07.03: Shadow of the Mountain

[Wyvern]

Alys looks at the Redcap and raises an eyebrow. "So, do you want to make that a challenge, or would you rather slink back to your corner and hope nobody can hear you?"

[Joshua]

The redcap will look at the troll, then Grind, then the balcony. "This clearly isn't the place. Afterward, if mi'lady wishes to indulge." He will look back at the troll, "Why couldn't you be beautiful?" He will sigh and slink off, for now.

That will clear the circle in the orcs for the battle / marriage rite* with Grind.
______________
*: It seemed like a good idea at the time, I swear!

[Wyvern]

Alys watches the redcap go, and shakes her head. "A public challenge would have gone better for him than what he seems to be planning. So be it." Her voice is quiet - a few of those nearest the balcony can hear, but the redcap himself will only get the message second-hand... and perhaps not even that.

[ShadowOfPreservation]

Lyra hops down off the balcony and strides confidently into the center of the circle. Her gaze measures the anticipation and expectations of the onlookers as she walks up to stand squarely in front of the Ogre. The massive figure cracks his knuckles and loosens his shoulders in preparation for the battle. An untrained eye would cause one to laugh at the disparity between combatants as the Ogre towers over the half-elf female.

“I’ll want my weapon,” Lyra announces, and Morgana quickly signals someone to fetch the item from her room. An awkward silence builds and Lyra’s attention turns fully to regard Grind. His hasty words had implied an impulsiveness and overconfidence that she was sure she could exploit. But winning here was only part of the point of the fight. If she was going to have authority here in Ht’Gon, she needed to earn the respect of these people. That meant a fair fight and a gracious win.

The runner returns to the room quite quickly, jogging to a halt in front of the Half-elf and holding the weapon out to her. Lyra takes hold of her flail with a word of thanks as the runner retreats quickly from the circle. The steel clinks as she let the chain fall. Lyra had always thought it an odd weapon choice of her goddess but she’d learned its use well and made it her own. Still, the intimidating weapon does look out of place in the half-elf’s hands. Every other link in its length is more like a 4-pointed steel star. The pattern of link then star repeats for entire length of the short chain, ending with a series of 4 slightly larger 4-pointed stars joined together so that the points of the stars were at 45 degree angles from each other. Lyra gives the chain a quick whirl, the steel blurring in a circle, before slowing it to hang at the ready once more.

The Ogre, who had seemed skeptical when the weapon was first brought out, can see something in her handling of the chain that almost but not quite erases the smirk on his face. Lyra knew he’d try and use his strength against her, which was why she’d decided to start with her flail. Lyra was sure she could beat the Ogre but it wouldn’t do to underestimate her first opponent since coming here and cause her to have to reveal more of her abilities than she’d prefer.

There is an unspoken agreement of readiness between the opponents and Lyra gives a nod to her adversary.. As they begin to circle, Lyra sets the chain into a slow spin, ready to unleash its power at the right time. Grind makes the first move, closing with her and swiping at her midsection with massive arms that ended in deadly claws. Lyra dodges these swipes, using her elven agility and roguish training to remain square to her opponent yet just outside of his range. The Ogre then feints and swipes again and Lyra dances back, noticing his clear desire to eliminate her weapon from the equation and turn this into a contest of strength. Well fine then. If that’s what he wanted…

She attacks, her chain whirring to a deadly blur in an instant. She lunges towards the creature, getting inside of his guard and swinging the spiked steel at him with all her might. The Ogre simply catches it. The spiked head comes to an abrupt halt as the Ogre’s hand flies across in a blur of motion, grasping the head of the weapon. Lyra’s blow had been delivered at such speed that the points of the star now protrude from the back of the Ogre’s hand in several places. The Ogre shows no signs of the pain though as he whips that same arm upwards, taking the impaled chain with it and yanking it from the elf’s grasp. The momentum jars the points loose at the apex of the move and her flail soars off in a spinning arc into the crowd.

[Joshua]

(OOC: As a note: This was discussed over IM, and Lyra's player is writing it up. I did assume no one was going to interfere.)

[ShadowOfPreservation]

Grind smiles. His clawed hand had not just been impaled but broken and it now hung limp and useless at the end of his arm. The loss seems acceptable to the Ogre as he pays the serious injury no attention. "Lady-like… cleric?”, the Ogre taunts. “Do you have a god to save you?"

It’s Lyra’s turn to smile. She’d thought he’d try something like this and had let go of her flail as soon as he’d caught it. She didn’t need steel to defend herself. "My Goddess Eilistraee is always with me but I do not need Her to save me from you." The half-elf’s reptilian eyes narrow with a hint of amusement as her fingers extend into deadly black claws of her own. Returning the taunt, Lyra smiles. “Shall we continue?”

The Ogre strides forward, one handed, intent on catching the elusive half-elf and using his still quite considerable strength to his advantage in a grapple. Lyra remains wary of his strikes, ducking and dodging to avoid his grabs. She knew that she had gained the advantage in the fight but that one wrong move could still turn the tide against her.

Thankfully, since she only has to worry about avoiding one clawed hand now, it proves to be much easier to put her acrobatics to good use and exhibit some of her agility. More at ease, she surreptitiously scans the crowd, gauging their expressions and finding some of the Orcs none too pleased with her antics. It’s about time to end this and make her point.

Grind comes for her but she could tell immediately that he was planning something. His weight is all wrong, the lunge overextended. With the way he had ignored the pain from blocking her attack, maybe he would try and use that hand, injured as it was. She keeps her focus wide, waiting for the real attack to reveal itself. Lyra makes as if to block his lunge but catches the moment his weight shifts, his injured hand shooting out to grab her.

It was a good move. Grind had troll blood in his veins and the debilitating injury was now little more than faint marks on his leathery skin. His clawed hand makes to close on her but the half-elf is already moving. Lyra steps to her left and inside the Ogre’s guard before leaping upwards. She grabs his shoulder and swings around behind the Ogre, her left arm coming around and under his chin, locking against the bicep of her right arm in a choke hold.

Grind makes a surprised grunt and tries reaching back and tugging at her arms to dislodge the half-elf but Lyra knows she has him. She can feel his claws graze her skin faintly as her natural shapeshifting causes hard purple scales to form wherever he strikes. It’s a futile gesture though and they both know it. After a few more tugs at her arm, the Ogre signals his surrender and Lyra lets him go, backing away.

[Joshua]

Grind will shrug, his shoulder popping back into place. "Daq was right about tactics..." Which gets a number of grumbles from the orcs. Grind cuts them off. "She only used enough to stop my claws! There is no dishonor in that!" He will reluctantly nod his head to Lyra. "The servants of pattern have many gifts."

[Draylen]

Aibne nods, his lips pursed, his eyes drinking in each and every detail of the combat as it happens. "It was a good fight," he says to himself, the fingers on his left hand twitching slightly, as if plucking strings. "The lady Lyra is certainly a gifted warrior," he says, a little louder, and bows to her. "I think that none in Ht'Gon shall contest your role as Guide, milady." He looks at the ogre warrior, and chuckles a little. "Of course, if Lady Morgana was pleased with the display sir Grind offered in her name, perhaps she will gift him with a favor," he prompts quietly, glancing at Morgana. He's hiding it decently well, but he's incredibly nervous - it sounds like something he might have said time and again for Rogbar, and he's concerned about overstepping his authority.

[Joshua]

"I doubt Grind would accept such for a lost battle. He would need an effective warrior to best before he accept such a gift." Morgana sighs. "I fear he may try walking the pattern if this keeps up."

[The Raven]

The Raven glides down from his perch in the rafters. (He had said he wouldn't interfere) "If Grind actually did manage to walk the pattern I think things would be a lot more interesting, but I think now is the time to congratulate Lady Lyra on her fine victory."