2937/WMAT B1 Geralt of Rivia vs MORDRED
From Multiverse Crisis MUSH
Revision as of 01:06, 1 September 2015 by Emprah James (Talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/08/31 |Location=WMAT Arena - Diablo Desert |Synopsis=Geralt of Rivia fights MORDRED in their first post-qualifiers match of the World Martial ...")
WMAT B1 Geralt of Rivia vs MORDRED | |
---|---|
Date of Scene: | 31 August 2015 |
Location: | WMAT Arena - Diablo Desert |
Synopsis: | Geralt of Rivia fights MORDRED in their first post-qualifiers match of the World Martial Arts Tournament. Geralt moves on to the next round, while MORDRED is eliminated. |
Cast of Characters: | 804, 828 |
Tinyplot: | TP WMAT 2015 |
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
MORDRED is already present, having been in their designated arena long before the fight started. He's just sitting on top of his Armour, relaxing in the sun, wearing some beachwear made for him by Tomoyo on top of his combat suit. Casually sipping a glass of orange juice as he waits for it to get close to time. Exactly five minutes before the scheduled start time, down to a fraction of a second, he both finishes his orange juice and removes his beachwear, down to just the tight-fitting wetsuit-like outfit covered in clasps and gets into his Armour.
It's around one minute before starting that he's done with that, and he bows to the audience first, and then to his opponent. "Hail! May the best warrior win today." He greets before Glare-NT's thrusters fire to keep floating just a little above the ground, dust kicking up as a result.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
The desert sun relentlessly beats down upon Geralt which, on some level, the Witcher hopes doesn't reflect the fight that's about to happen. Still, when his golden eyes alight on the heavily armored form of his opponent, Geralt sets his lips in a grim line. Hmm, that's one tough looking suit of armor. While he's fought enemies larger than him, he's never fought one like that.
So, this fight will probably be a lesson in improvising.
With two swords on his back and armor of leather and chain, an observer could easily think that the Witcher is outmatched - but Geralt's cunning senses might win the day.
He nods to Mordred - why doesn't he bow? - and draws one of the swords from his back - his steel blade. "May the best fighter win," Geralt says.
And with that, the Witcher leaps at Mordred, spinning so he can lash out with his blade. It's a probing strike, more than anything else.
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
The blade is blocked, somewhat, digging deep into the Armour's right arm instead of the body. Some coolant leaks for a bit until the self-repair systems close the leak, but the damage has been done. It's then, initial surprise past, that MORDRED really gets into motion, thrusters backing off from Geralt at high speed, but not before Glare-NT's left foot lashes out for Geralt's face. Despite its size, the Armour is fast and mobile.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Geralt is already moving. It's that fact that probably prevents the foot from caving in the front of his head. It clips him and, with a quiet snap, it manages to break his nose. Blood seeps down and Geralt grunts. "Nice shot."
Wiping the blood away with the back of his glove, Geralt's other hand makes a strange, dancing pattern with his fingers. He raises his hand and a great burst of telekinetic force rips through the air, straight towards the giant suit of armor. Who knows, maybe it'll lift it from its feet!
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
Lifted from its feet, no, but that's mainly because it was already flying to begin with. MORDRED is slammed into one of the massive mushrooms, and this gets all kinds of mushroom goop into his servos, causing a short-term hindrance and some mid-term damage. Long term it should not be a problem. "Not bad." MORDRED says, and he reaches for his XTE Lancepack. He holds the weapon under his arm like a lance, the front glowing briefly before firing a blast of superheated plasma, hot enough to melt just about anything.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Now, Geralt might not be too sure about what the armor is, but he can recognise a lance when he sees one. The fact that it begins to glow is a bit of a surprise, as Geralt obviously understands a lance as something you charge with. The moment the blast goes off, Geralt makes a sign with his free hand.
The sign of Quen. A magical forcefield.
Just before the blast hits, a golden hemisphere surrounds Geralt. It vanishes when the blast of plasma hits it and, while Geralt rises, singed and smoking, he's not dead or dying. That's the kind of battle it is for the Witcher - just taking it one step at a time.
Gripping his blade in both hands, Geralt charges MORDRED. He rolls, closing the gap, and, as he rises, Geralt takes his blade and swings for the hills!
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
By the time Geralt rises, MORDRED isn't where he was anymore. He's moved to the side, far enough away for that blade to be out of reach of anything but thin air. The XTE Lancepack is dropped, automatically reattaching to its proper location on Glare-NT's back, and the robotic hands have drawn a six foot long ultrathin, ultramassive broadsword, which is swung straight for Geralt. It's wielded like it's a light, easy to use weapon, but that's the Armour's power talking, not the lack of mass.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
"Son of a-" Geralt growls as MORDRED slips away from him - how can something so big, move so fast?!
And that, Geralt realises, is a very big sword. He's not fast enough to get out of the way, just fast enough to prevent himself being cut in two. The blade still bites deep through his shoulder and Geralt falls back, red running down his leather armor. The Witcher falls back, getting enough space so he can uncork a potion and drink it down. That only seems to make it more painful, the Witcher's veins sticking out and turning black as night. Geralt grits his teeth and bears it - the potion will prevent him from bleeding out. At least for a little while. His sword hits the desert sand with a heavy 'thud' - but it's a feint.
Geralt makes the sign of Aard again as he plays at being horribly wounded, holding the power in his hand until it seems like it'll shatter every bone in that arm, and then unleashes it, ripping a great furrow in the sand as the magical power courses towards MORDRED!
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
MORDRED realizes what is coming his way at the last second, too late to properly mitigate it, but early enough he can cross his arms defensively and prepare to crash into the ground. It's not a lot, but it helps. The response afterwards is also fast, giving Geralt a good sense of just how fast that massive machine is, by the time it's back upright, Glare-NT is already halfway towards melee range with Geralt, and that blade is already swinging downwards for another heavy stroke.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Taking up his sword again, Geralt's face says it all: ah, hell.
For whatever reason, he still tries to parry the giant sword, which works about as well as can be expected. His blade goes flying from his hands and Mordred's larger weapon sinks deep into his shoulder, sending one arm numb and much of his armor falling to the ground. It's a good thing that he had just downed that potion.
Still, there's a trick Geralt had once used on a knight in full plate. Although, given that it's a magical sign, trick isn't the right word. Geralt raises his good hand and makes a sign, a new one - the sign of Igni.
A terrific gout of flame roars from Geralt's hand, and the Witcher doesn't let up. That knight had been roasted inside of his plate mail - maybe this would be a similar effect.
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
Unfortunately not. The flame burns away at some kind of easily molten exterior layer, which reveals a more solid layer underneath. That too, takes significant damage from the flames, and it's hardly something that seems to lack impact, but it doesn't seem to have roasted MORDRED. The ablative heat shielding has done what it is designed to. The blade is put back on Glare-NT's hip as MODRED takes to the sky, floating out of easy melee combat heights, though a good jump may reach him, and charging up his Lancepack again. It takes a little longer this time, but then a series of blast is sent aimed at Geralt, each consisting of that unreasonably hot hydrogen plasma.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Geralt's already moving. Some of the blasts hit home (or definitely close enough to count), burning him, but others go wide due to the Witcher's cat-like agility. Oh, this is going to hurt tomorrow and he's going to have a host of new scars, but that's the life of a Witcher.
Geralt unclips an item from his belt, a spheroid object. He hurls it towards MORDRED. Which, given that he's up in the air, isn't the best of ideas but Geralt's not going to risk a jump and slash with only one arm. The sphere detonates, revealing its nature as a shrapnel bomb, and peppers MORDRED with shards of metal. Who knows, maybe they'll find something exposed or jam up some kind of system!
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
MORDRED knows that a spherical object thrown in his rough direction is probably some kind of grenade, and so by the time it explodes he's far away enough that only a few shards hit. Certainly dealing damage, but it could've been so much worse. The Space Knight keeps moving in one direction until suddenly his path changes, an extra thruster firing to make him fly towards Geralt at extremely high velocity, shooting for what is effectively a shoulder tackle.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Geralt's dealt with charging beasts before, ones that could easily trample him under their hooves and claws, so, the charging suit of armor isn't too unfamiliar - but the speed of it is. Somehow, with only one working arm and do-or-die determination, Geralt manages to only get the air forced out of his lungs. He's sent tumbling, and he spits sand from his mouth, but he's still okay. Well, relatively okay.
Making the Aard sign again with his fingers, Geralt blasts away at MORDRED once more. Wounded as he is, he can't afford to get close, where his opponent has the size, speed and, really, most of the advantages that make it a bad idea. "That the best you've got?" Geralt taunts, voice grim.
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
His momentum makes it hard for MORDRED to prepare for that attack, and so he fails, and is sent into another mushroom, dealing more damage to his Armour. He pushes himself out of it, and then fires those same thrusters for another charge, suggesting that it very well might be the best he's got. Of course, at the very last second he halts his movement, drawing the Lancepack that has been charging up behind his back and firing a strong blast from point blank range. "No."
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Geralt has one more trick up his sleeve. He draws himself up to his full height and makes a sign with his hands - retaining enough feeling to manage to just cross his wrists as the plasma blast comes in. Too close to dodge, too fast to protect himself with Quen.
The sign of Heliotrop is a buffer against attacks. It distributes the energy evenly and around Geralt. The blast still is hot - very hot - and launches him from his feet, piercing his skin with pinpricks of white hot pain, but it doesn't kill him. Luckily, Geralt's hair is already quite grey, otherwise it's likely it'd be noticably scorched. The air bursts from Geralt's lungs in a choking groan. That smarts.
"Come," growls Geralt, taking his silver blade from his back, "Let's finish this. May the best fighter win!"
And Geralt charges, silver sword singing as he swings it against MORDRED! Evidently, honor has won out over practicality.
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
MORDRED takes the blade against his Armour's right arm, digging deep into the already damaged machine. The response is immediate, with the other arm immediately moving to swing in with the Monofilament broadsword. "If you wish the remainder of our duel to be a battle of blades. I will gladly do so." He sounds cheerful at the thought, even though his Armour is showing heavy damage from the fight so far.
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
The heavier blade gives MORDRED a big advantage. He can simply swing hard enough to break through Geralt's parries and blocks. That's what happens then, and the monofilament broadsword bites deep, hacking through chain and flesh with equal ease.
But Geralt is fast. The mix of honed skills, Witcher-made reflexes and a heady amount of adrenaline keeps him moving. He ducks, weaves, dodges, spins and lashes out with his silver blade. Even with only one arm, he's putting up a fierce fight. He's not trying to meet MORDRED strength for strength - no, he's smart enough to realise he's lose that contest - but to try and outmaneuver him, to wear him down. Geralt darts in to thrust the point of his silver sword against the middle of MORDRED's armor, and then slips away - or hopes to!
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
And thus the already low supply of coolant evaporates through further leaks, the blade forcing an emergency shutdown of many of Glare-NT's combat systems, and though frustrated, MORDRED has no other choice. "I yield victory to the better swordsman." He sounds disappointed in himself, very disappointed, but clearly he's too sportsmanlike to do more than let this disappointment shine through. "Well fought. I look forward to you taking the trophy."
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Geralt offers MORDRED his right hand, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. He nods, and maybe picks up on that disappointment. "No shame in bein' beaten by a Witcher," he says, voice somewhat amiable. "You did well. Glad to have crossed blades with you. Helluva set of armor."
- Project MORDRED (804) has posed:
MORDRED makes sure to get out of his Armour before accepting that hand, giving it a firm shake. He's a strong man even outside it, though it looks as though the battle has seriously strained him. "Thank you. Glare-NT is one of only two suits like it. The other, Calibur-N, belongs to my father. High King Arthur." He says with a grin, "One day, I hope to defeat him. Clearly I'm not ready."
- Geralt of Rivia (828) has posed:
Geralt is strained, too - while always pale, it's clear that his pallor is a shade lighter than it should be. "I'm sure he'd be proud of you," he says, probably referring to the fight. Regicide isn't a topic that he dwells on. Bad history, there.