VS.
@dragonmancer
Fafnir, adorning his plated armor, marched on the battleground with his right hand dragging the large lance behind him. His crimson eyes glanced over the crowd as he made his way on stage. The knight's lumbering tail of blue scales slithering on the floor like a serpent with each step. When the dragon got into his position as a challenger, he struck his lance into the earth in front of him with great force. With the lance digging into the ground, Fafnir awaited his challenger with a patient and still stature.
Margot came onstage second, her blades clipped to her waist. Her cape fluttered behind her as she strode to her starting marker. She'd already seen pictures and videos of her opponent, but seeing the ancient creature in person was entirely different. He could easily look down on almost any opponent in this tournament, including her. Between his wings, his tail, and his eyes, there was no mistaking that he was not entirely human. Still, he was her opponent, and as such deserved her courtesy. "My name is Margot Coudray, better known as Renard Bleu." Doffing her hat, she bowed to him. "It is an honor to have this chance to fight you."
The knight of scaled wings stared at his challenger for a short moment after her introduction. However he immediately sprang to life. He stood up straight in a firm posture, and placed his hand back on the hilt of his lance. "I am Fafnir Sigurd, and I am just honored to face such an opponent." His inhuman eyes then spotted the sword at her side. "Oho? Swordplay!" He seemed rather ecstatic by the tone of his voice. As he spoke, he lifted the lance off of the ground and spun it between his fingers. "That takes me back, this fight will truly be interesting." Having Finished that sentence, Fafnir stopped twirling his weapon, getting into a stance with his hand closer to the blade of his spear, the whole weapon on an angle facing downwards near his legs. "Come."
"Gladly, but we should wait for the match to actually start." The musketeer donned her hat again. She drew her blades, their highly polished metal gleaming in the sunlight as she adopted her stance. Focusing on the fight, the din of the crowd and the announcer became muted. Her mind raced as she glanced around the battlefield. Seemed like this was one of the less flashy rings. Apart from some pillars on the four corners of the arena, there was nothing breaking up the concrete tiles. She reminded herself that to win she needed to either knock him out of the ring, or just plain knock him out. Already she had a battle plan.
"Are you ready...?" Andre asked in a restrained tone, before he exploded with...
"... Go!"
She took off like a shot.Running forward, she closed the distance between the two with her dagger and sword held at the ready, watching for Sigurd's inevitable counter.
From what short time Fafnir had, he had studied both her stance and weapons. The light dual wielding and uniform had given away that this fighter was built to be swift and experienced in close quarters, the shorter dagger could have been used to catch weapons. The dragon, an experienced fighter, knew that he had to be less predictable to fight such an opponent, especially with his opening counter. Once she ran into a dangerously close range, Fafnir lifted his left hand, away from his lance which he now wielded solely with his right arm, and attempted to clash his armored elbow-pad with her dagger, while his tail thrust from between his grieves likes an unseen spear, going for her chest.
Margot ducked as her opponent tried to elbow her, a smart move since she'd managed to get within the range of his spear. However she had not taken into account Fafnir's extra limbs and barely able to register the tail swinging towards her. "Merde." The tail knocked the wind out of her and launched her a few feet back. She manged to recover in time to land on her feet, coughing as she got back into her stance. "Nice trick." She did the classic 'come at me' gesture with her dagger, slowly circling her opponent. "Got any more?"
Fafnir readied his lance as his opponent recovered from the blow. He admired his foes pride, it had delivered a sense of nostalgia. Without saying a word, he answered her challenge by leaping high into the air, his figure shrunk from the distance he attained, before his size slowly began to grew. In moments he'd come crashing down from above upon Margot, his lance ready to strike the earth as electricity ran off his armor and weapon like a bolt of lightning, having left a trail behind him.
The fencer saw the coming the moment he lept into the air. Such an attack would be devastating; having anyone stab you at terminal velocity would take out pretty much anyone. The electricity was just overkill. Still, even with the dragon's wings there was only so much air control he had. The timing was tight as she dashed underneath him, using her ki to speed her way over to the pillar behind him. Her neck hairs stood on end as he landed, a blast of air nearly knocking her over again. She used her agility to run up the pillar, catching a glimpse of the dragon already turning around.
Landing with a great crash, great force and electricity erupted from around the knight as his lance dug into the arena's ground. The fierce power erupted a crater beneath him. As the energy died down, Fafnir prepared to keep up with her pace. Trying to give her little time to comfortable dodge, the knight pulled his weapon out of the ground and began to extend his ki as a crimson blade. The lance's range extended with its blade as after the somewhat quick charged weapon now slashed towards both her and the pillar that she had ran up.
Margot hissed in surprise as she barely dodged out of the way of the slash, kicking off the pillar. A strip of blue cloth from her cape fluttered to the ground as the lance gouged out the concrete just below her. Margot flipped over Fafnir's head, landing behind him. She turned on the spot, spotting what she had been looking for, the soft spot in his plate armor under his shoulder. Shouting out, she drove her dagger home, hoping to weaken his control of that massive lance of his.
Not being able to keep up with her mobility, when the blade dug into his shoulder the knight had dropped his weapon. He ignored the pain however, and while for the moment he couldn't use his injured arm well his other arm launched forward as he turned, electricity violently surging through his gauntlet as he made a grab at the fencer's throat to unleash to the full voltage of electricity upon her.
The static charge of the air around them tipped her off that his swing was no mere counterattack. While she had already started to step back, the speed the knight recovered from the stab forced her to expend ki on a Saut du Chat, leaving behind an afterimage that took the swing. Now that he faced her, most of his weak points were out of reach, and even without his lance the crackling corona around his good fist suggested that he had more fight in him still. She glanced between his wounded arm and the gouged pillar as she bounced on her fear. "Sorry Sigurd. Perhaps we should tone it down a bit? It would be a pity to cripple each other so early in the tournament?"
Having grabbed nothing but air, The knight's crimson gaze locked onto the fencer as his reach retreated to a more comfortable stance. With his weakened arm, the torn part of the armor having dripped red liquid, The knight began to pick up his fallen weapon. "Don't take such pity on a soldier, you've given me a hell of a fight this far don't tell me you're going to stop now." He mused, He was barely able to pick up his weapon, though is arm wasn't entirely disabled, the wound made it difficult for him to effectively move it. As a result the knight had to wield the weapon with both hands. He knew that, especially with this injury, it would be difficult to keep up with her nimble and precise moves, but it was that challenge that thrilled him. Filled with nostalgia, the knight grinned beneath his helmet.
Through his 'burning armor', flames rapidly ignited and burst off of his flesh and plated armor. With his body cloaked in fire the heat that surrounded his very presence was a bit oppressive. It was like standing next to a large bonfire. Fafnir then proceeded to leap to her direction, slashing his spear as to strike her in his aerial charge
The heat nearly took her breath away. Margot's mask automatically dimmed her vision to compensate for the brilliance of the flames. When he made it clear that he wasn't going to stand down, she had backed away, but this was something different. Even as she dove to the side like a matador dodging a bull, sweat streamed down her face.If it weren't for the thickness of her costume, she was sure that she'd have some of her arm-hairs singed. She was close enough that she could see the near glowing edge of his lance. As long as he was engulfed in flames, she couldn't comfortably approach him. There was only one move in her arsenal that would let her strike him without suffering burns, but she had to wait for another opening.
With the intent of giving her little time to recover, Fafnir drove his blade in an overhead swing to Margot. Though his right arm was a bit stiff from the injury, the support of both hands had allowed him to wield the weapon effectively enough. His tail would slither into a position as to wait for her to fall into a trap he now devised. From his experience he had a good hunch on her next dodge, but there was the chance she could avoid what he had planned.
The overhead slash gave her an opening to get behind him again, but it would be risky to exploit. She channeled her ki and slid under his swing, swinging her sword up to try and knock the lance out of the way. Her soaked clothing dried up in moments, and she briefly considered just how bad of an idea this might have been, but followed through. She launched herself upward twirling in the air, as she slashed at the dragon's most exposed body parts, its wings.
Her blade clashed with the lance and sent it upwards enough for her to avoid it entirely.
He didn't expect the girl to be so nimble as to slash at his wings. Crimson had spread from the blade's path as Margot's weapon grazed the leathery membrane of the wing as she descended. How long has it been since he felt such pain, he wondered. Though he paused with a groan of pain, Fafnir did not falter from the intense sting. Immediately he reacted by spinning to face her, the flames whirled around him from the motion as he had raised his lance in an arcing motion, a move that helped concentrated his ki control. The ground below Margot grew red with heat, before flames shortly erupted out of the earth and directly underneath her figure. This was his rising fire.
Without any air control, Margot could not dodge the blast as she fell back to earth. All she could was cry out as the flames headed straight towards her. She brought her cape up to try and block some of the heat. The wall of flames blew her across the arena, sending her skidding and tumbling until she drove her dagger into the ground, arresting her skid a few feet from the edge. Clothes still smouldering, she pushed herself to her feet. "Doesn't your kind normally breathe fire?" She took a deep breath of the blessedly cooler air as she looked back towards the cooling rock, patting out some of the embers.
Altogether, the flames from the rock and his armor soon dispersed as she recovered from the intense heat. With his armor of fire gone, his wounds were more visible. Blood trickled down from his right arm to its elbow, as well as his left wing. His blood, like the rest of his body, didn't boil from his own flames, yet Fafnir was panting a bit. Was he getting old? It has been some time since he had ever fight so feverishly. Though the thrill was bliss his body had grown a bit soft from sleeping over the eons. The ancient knight had to drive his lance into the ground as to support his large body. He bellowed out a jovial chuckle, "It feels good to clash with such an opponent, my blood is boiling with excitement." He started to stand straight once more. "Normally, but I cannot breathe flames so easily in this binded vessel of a body." He explained as he readied his lance. In the moment of rest, the knight had time to think of his next moves, as well as trying to get a read on hers. She was fast, too fast for him to effectively make an assault with most of his arsenal. So far, his tendency to take her attacks so he can perform a counter attack has worked, but he wasn't sure how much more he could tank. Her moves were precise, it was vastly different then just simply being impaled or pulverized by great force, her accuracy to vitals and joints was a skill to be admired.
Fafnir raised his weapon, then chopped it down on a segment of the pillar he had sliced through earlier, cleaving a sizable chunk off. The large mass of marble was then lifted with his left arm, and crudely thrown at the fencer. Afterwards he quickly gripped his weapon and awaited her charge.
Margot jumped at the sight of him chopping through the rock like wood, and twirled out of the way of the chunk easily. Still, that blast took a lot out of her. The only saving grace was that he seemed to be suffering as well. Maybe she could finish him off soon, if she could just press her one advantage over him. By now she'd gained a respect for the dragon, and the bruise forming on her chest reminded her of what happened first time she came to him. However if he wouldn't come to her, she would have to come to him. "I must admit I did not expect to fight a dragon in this tournament. It's nice to see that a Musketeer's style still holds up to one such as you." She walked towards him, focusing all her energy as she picked up to a run, blades at the ready. "Now, Knight Sigurd, En Guarde for Tempête d'épées!" As she made it into the range of his spear, her blades were up and ready to stab, but at the last moment she disappeared into a blue blur.
The knight was prepared for her strike, but did not expect her to vanish in such speed. If she was going to bring out such a fierce attack, so too would Fafnir. Flames once again erupted from the knight as he drove his lance back into the earth. This time however it was not for mere armor, unleashing his raging dragon, The flames that had surrounded Fafnir towered and snaked into the sky, taking the shape of an oriental dragon's head as the flaming apparition of crackling fire mimicking a fierce roar. The Serpentine flame rushed down and rapidly began to circle around him, then coiling beyond its borders. Each circle the dragon made let its body of fire cover more ground, which now had started to encroach the arena's parameter as the apparition's vacant eyes tried to locate the fencer.
Margot dashed around the arena, only briefly visible when she had to sharply change directions to avoid running off the ends of the arena, and by the drafts produced by her speed as she edged past the fiery serpent. The heat was immense, but ultimately bearable so long as she stayed away from the head. She had to act quickly to capitalize on what she could feel was going to be her last big play of the fight. She skidded to a stop behind the knight, cape smouldering, and drove her sword into the back of his knee. Not allowing him any time to retaliate, she then drove her dagger into the tip of his tail, hoping to pin him further before disappearing again.
Though the tail was more resilient then human flesh, being composed of tough scales, the dagger had pinned it to the ground. The rush of pain and the exertion of ki took its toll as the apparition soon faded after Margot dashed off again. The flames had left behind rows of steam from the earth and the knight's armor. His body, the way it was now, couldn't draw as much ki from his original reserve. This and the fact that his term of laziness had made him a bit soft had caused the knight to grow a bit weary. One thing that hadn't change, however, was his will over pain. Despite the blood that now pooled at his feet Fafnir stood and had leaned most of his weight on the lance that dug deep into the ground. His eyes were closed.
Figuring that his vision could not keep up with such speed, Fafnir relied on trying to calm himself, steady his breathe, and try to sense her energy. Even with this method, however, he couldn't track her. He knew she would deliver another attack soon, perhaps more then once, so the knight stood there. He didn't move, didn't attempt to guard himself either. His weapon was still in the ground, he was entirely vulnerable. However, because his weapon was in the ground it made it difficult to see that the ki he was recovering was being drawn into the lance's blade. Another one of his strong moves, tactical strike, was now in preparation. All he had to do now, was to wait, and hope to endure her following move.
Without her dagger, Margot's options were halved. She saw the dragon reeling back his flame dragon, and saw another opening, one she needed to decisively exploit if she had any chance of winning the fight. Bouncing off the damaged pillar, she lunged at the knight, digging deep for one more flurry of blows. The world became a blur as she focused on the six points she would attack. Slash one, back of the still good knee. "Unus.". Strikes two and three, a slash at the strap holding his left bracer on followed by a flick and stab to the inside of the now exposed elbow. "Pro omnibus." Before his bracer even reached the ground, she had twirled around to his right side. She cut the straps off his right bracer. "Omnes," Her body ached from the stress that she was putting it through as she pulled off one final series of strikes. The first one drove the tip of her sword clean through his exposed forearm, before driving her sword home again into the previously opened wound in his armpit. "Pro uno."
Once the last blow landed, the rest of the world sped up again. Part of her hoped she didn't go too far and actually kill her opponent. The other part of her was crying out at her for going too far in pushing herself. Lungs burning, she tugged on her sword but it held fast in Fafnir's shoulder. Letting go, stumbled a few steps backwards. She couldn't even bring herself to stand up straight, supporting herself on shaky knees as she looked at her opponent, hoping beyond hope that he'd taken enough.
Fafnir went nearly numb as the barrage of blows nearly incapacitated his muscles. However upon her last strike, Fafnir held his limp arm in the way of the blade with a motion nearly as fast as the jab itself, angled more toward the muscle then her previous attempt to impale another joint. At first it seemed like a futile attempt, but with whatever unnatural strength he could muster, he flexed his muscles to increase tension within the flesh. This action made it impossible for the fencer to draw her blade from his wound, effectively trapping her weapon in place.
Though he could no longer hold his lance with his arms, his other injured arm removed his helmet to expose the warrior's face. His primordial eyes focused on his opponent as he willed through unimaginable pain. The knight gripped his massive lance with merely his teeth and jaws. With a poorly finesse strike, slashed the ki-charged Lance at his opponent with his tactical strike to land a blow to her chest, though avoiding to make a killing blow just as he tried to spare him. He had sacrificed everything to ensure he could land his final attack on his nimble foe, whatever the results came from his attack, a hit or miss, this match was over.
"Oh bordel!" She couldn't believe it. Even with two blades stuck in him, Fafnir still came. His movements were clumsy to be sure, but as unarmed and tired as she was, she had no means to retaliate, let alone block the attack. He came directly at her, and with almost none of her usual finesse, she dodged. Rather than dive into a roll, or twirl out of the way, her dodge was more of a controlled and intentional fall. She heard ripping from her cape as the dragon's attack caught it, jerking her until the snap broke off. She groaned as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows, expecting to be staring down another attack.
As much as Fafnir wanted to continue, his teeth could not properly wield the lance for a second attack, the weapon merely flew from his jaws as head came to a stop from its turn. With his muscles loosened, Fafnir ripped the rapier from his injury. As if his wounds were not enough, having to manually rip out the blade was like pressing the stringer of an insect against one's skin. He could barely move, so numb he had gotten that his legs were reluctant to move. By now a large puddle of crimson was beneath his armor. He was panting, hard. Instead of focusing on his unarmed opponent, he turned and reached for his tail. He removed the dagger that had pinned it to the floor. Though free from that inconvenience, he couldn't get far with his injuries anyhow. It took a good amount of effort just to not fall over and drown in his own blood. Fafnir was out of ki, out of vitality, and soon, out of blood. He turned to his opponent one last time. Yet of all things, he smiled. This was perhaps the only fight he could remember where he lost. Yet, it was thrilling. He never entered this tournament anyway. It was merely his announcement to the world of his returned, as well as a way to refresh his fighting talents. Without any regrets, having fought as long as he wanted too. He allowed himself to fall, but not before he had weakly bowed to his opponent to honor her and her victory. With a loud thud the mythical titan fell.
Margot scrambled out of the way, the scent of blood filling her nostrils as she watched him fall. Filled with relief as she realized the fight was over, she didn't register as Andre announced her as the winner, nor as paramedics streamed onstage to surround her opponent. All she did, was collapse from exhaustion, and pass out.
