• Closed • Turn the other cheek

Noth

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Re: Turn the other cheek

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Gangui stared at Noth with the white of his eyes. He understood everything that the bird was conveying, but being that he aimed at obliterating and taking revenge for killing Niv, the Turkey’s ears fell dead to the Crow’s accusations and claims. He didn’t care what anyone thought, more than all a miscreant like Noth. A fatal flaw perhaps? Regardless this was at the very nature of Gangui's insistence in quenching the flame of rebellion that was Noth. And he had made up his mind long ago for better or worse...

He was angry and fed up at the entire situation. It was never about the money! It was never about the work involved! It was always about principles; the Avriel’s claims was absolutely ridiculous and untrue. There would be no convincing him over anything though.

Somehow the underclass was cheering the underdog Noth despite not understanding the premise of the duel. All the whole, the half-blood aukari was feeling indomitable urges to forgo all the formalities and start right away with no rules. However, this was impossible now, especially with the speech Noth delivered. It had to be answered!

Taking a couple seconds in pause, Gangui allowed for the sting of the words to pass. He really couldn’t provide an answer to Noth that would satisfy the crowd. They were all ignorant of Noths crime. Still he would briefly touch on it.

A gauntleted finger pointed at the Avriel despite a booming voice addressing the crowd gathered around, “This bird is a liar. He kills children. My proof?” He swiveled on his hips and pointed at the Turkey soldiers, “Every single one of these mercenaries!” He turned back to the Yari, “Like you Yari, these men have signed contracts with me for fair pay to fight for my cause. Noth has admitted mere seconds ago to openly to killing Niv. All of these reputable men will attest to the fact Niv was a sweet baby!”

Gangui paced a little bit, his hair and beard shifting strangely as it floated on his face. The Turkey leader was one to use a lot of gestures and non verbal communications. He sarcastically waved his hand, almost as if he was dismissing Noth.

“He lies on all things! Noth is attempting to bring about a new government throughout Idalos, a one world government that is entirely based on a personal psychopathic need to control everything! In the process, he has slain many innocent people. Part of his process is putting honorable people out of work and stealing their profit, only to redistribute it to the under classes His strategy is to garner the support of the weak undertow of society. A classic one indeed. Eventually he’d bring together every scumbag into one coalition aimed at ruining society to create a new order based totally on his stupid opinions. Those who don’t assimilate would be killed, even the women and children, and he wouldn’t stop until the entirety of Idalos was under his boot.

Both the crow and turkey had noble goals of improving mortal society through change, however Gan’s believed that Noth’s method was an absolute plan for failure. Gangui dramatically continued his speech with gestures and faces towards the Yari, “I started this duel! I would never stop a work day for any reason other than justice!”

The bearded half-blood scoffed and spat. There was nothing else he could really say to the Yari. At least it was clear now that the beady eyed Avriel and the robust warrior couldn’t agree. Both being men of government playing the powergame meant that this duel would be the eventual outcome of their lives regardless of when and where.

Speaking his final words to the Yari, he began to reach for his sword, “If I fail, I ask you to remember one thing: woe to any peoples who help this tyrant!”

The fully armored Turkey warrior slid his bastard sword from it’s sheath. It was time to get started, even if Noth had an arsenal hanging from his own plate-suit compared to Gan’s one weapon.

Ooc
Full suit of colbalt plate amor
“Liberty” bastard sword


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Good Fight Music. Very relevant.
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It seemed rather evident that Gangui found it necessary to have the last word when it came to their verbal sparring. While the hybrid certainly didn’t object to having shown his superiority in verbiage and the indignation he felt over such unjust accusations, he was also well-aware that within ten or so bits, at least one of them would lie dead upon the floor, and all of the words being cast hither and thither would have amounted to only a short detour in the grand scheme of events.

In particular, the mustachioed man seemed intent on declaring the murderous tendencies of the tyrannical bird, especially in relation to children. What Gangui saw as honorable, as the shedding of one’s weapons and equipment in order to face a foe on far more equal terms, Noth perceived as the utmost foolishness, the degeneracy of a man who had grown up being told mere fairy tales, who expected that his chivalrous platitudes would somehow afford him victory in their coming confrontation. The hybrid saw no honor in the discarding of tools or equipment, nor did he believe that the concept of honor and glory and righteousness could be embodied solely into physical implements. Honor, as much as anything, was a psychological awareness and affirmation to behave in a certain manner, nothing more, and nothing less.

Instead of answering the accusations of the fiend any further, the hybrid merely glared directly ahead, the contradictory and logical fallacies of Gangui’s argument fluttering around within his skull. He had plenty of retorts, but they would amount to nothing, and thus there was no purpose in uttering them. Surely, if any of the men around possessed intelligence of any sort, they would see them as plainly as he, especially with the subtle urgings of the Beast to perceive events in a less fiery manner than the redheaded warrior.

At the reference of his goals of world-domination, the Avriel simply scoffed. It was not as if though Gangui was entirely far from the mark, though the intentions of the hybrid were his own. All of the power of the world was only a means to an end, and each of the scum and villains that he had attached to his banner would serve their purpose or find themselves in early graves. He was not merely a proponent of evil, some unnatural force of darkness seeking to corrupt and annihilate all that he encountered, after all. “I’m afraid I do not wear boots.” The hybrid uttered with evident condescension, gently raking one of his talons across the ground in emphasis. For all of the righteous indignation that Gangui felt, the entire situation was very nearly a long-winded jest to the murderous bird.

At the drawing of a blade, the Avriel’s crimson eyes narrowed once more upon his foe in concentration, his own feathered hand retracting to his side to receive his adamantite mace.

“Where do you wish to be buried, Gangui?” He uttered, his voice having lost its condescension and taken on a far more severe tone. His body preparing itself for the coming slaughter.



word count: 545
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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The mere fact that the monstrous tyrant had failed to openly deny the profound accusations being uttered was yet another solid fact proving of his guilt. No amount of mental maneuvering and logical hoop jumping could justify the avriel’s failure to at least respond in simple rejection to the claims. Such a character assassination was no simple school yard gossip or intra-institutional office politicking where ignoring such a claim was an acceptable response. Nay. The game they played was on the high stage of kings, the court of justice, a stage where such a tragic failure to respond translated expressly into an admission of guilt to all the eyes beholden.

The fact of cuckoo’s pure evil and sardonic nature was something that could not be argued against anymore in the realm of truth. Twisting around abstract philosophies and crafting well laid arguments to justify the monster’s actions had no purpose on the stage of kings in which they played on.

Any attempt at painting the tyrant in a positive light was merely a strategy aimed to convince the ignorant to take up arms on the side of failure; it was a contrived web of lies constructed to confuse the poor-of-spirit, those who did not have the strength to combat the forces of evil. Cuckoo’s evil tactics compounded themselves into a confusing curtain, the epitome of the definition of ‘veil of deceit’. A comforting wool held over the eyes of the innocent, leading them seductively with false promises and false hope. Seducing these sweet souls into believing they would be saved by his tender words. Hiding the truth from them only until the last moment before removing the blinders and casting his victims into the maw of hell itself. Forcing them to fall down the rabbit hole of death, humiliation, and pain that was always at the end of all evil roads.

Noth was correct about one thing though: it was time for them to start their death duel.

Assuming his fighting stance, Gangui raised the bastard sword “Liberty” well up and above his own head. A provocative power stance aimed at bringing down the full force of his strength upon the avriel.

There was a lull now, the sweet void before the deadly dance that would begin. It was marked by a flash of lightning that illuminated the entire scene. Perhaps the crow would notice the real anger in the turkey’s eyes now; the real righteousness of good, an emotion that the avriel had never felt, for evil did not feel these true emotions, nay, they smoldered in contrived bitterness and weak, superfluous mental-gymnastics.

Thunder rumbled shortly thereafter and rain began to gently fall upon them. The Immortals where watching…

Despite being embroiled in fear, Gangui made the first move aiming his cut at the Avriel's single weak spot in his armor: his wing. He would do this by bounding forward, pivoting twice in a spin move to position himself at the correct angle to slice it off.

word count: 515
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And thus, even as the conversational battle which had been waged between the two came to its rather anti-climactic end, a far more grueling and physically taxing conflict began in its place. Crimson eyes narrowed as his warrior opposite began to place himself into a fighting stance, one that was not altogether unfamiliar to the hybrid. They had, after all, fought before in the past, and it was only reasonable to conclude that many of the different attacks that would be committed by the mustachioed man would be similar to those he had faced in the past.

It was only fitting that at the crux of their preparations, a flash of lighting rippled across the sky, dispelling what the hybrid had thought would be a relatively calm and peaceable trial. Nevertheless, his sense of dramatic tension could at least appreciate the notion to an extent, though, it would make it somewhat more difficult to fight should the weather prove entirely despicable. Mud clogged at shoes and talons alike, after all, and it was disgustingly irritating to get off of one’s garments when it had been mixed in blood.

The thunderous roar which vibrated across the sky was as good a marker as any for the commencement of their battle, and the hybrid twirled his mace within his hand, preparing to annihilate his foe. The distance between them was closed in nearly an instant, and the circling maneuvers that would mark their battle began, neither so foolhardy as to charge instantly to the cut, though, Gangui seemed rather intent on his offensive maneuver.

The swish of the blade as it divided apart the breeze of the wind, the clink and the clank of the hybrid’s metallic carapace as he spun upon his taloned heel, knowing that the blade would strike uselessly at the metal hi-

Pain. Searing and wet emanated through his body, more intense than he had expected from a mere deflection off of his armor. The hybrid danced backwards, his feet clenching at the dirt beneath him in order to maintain balance, hissing angrily through clenched teeth, and yet refusing to cast his eyes back at the wound for fear that he would give his opponent an opportunity to strike. He did not need to look back to know what had happened, for there, before his very feet lay the sole black wing which had for so long served him.

The pain did not dissipate, but a new emotion arose within the Avriel, something far more fiery and agitated than mere anguish. Anger, hatred flowed through his avian veins, and he shot forward, recovering far faster than might have been expected from the vicious wound. His mace would sail through the air with commitment, aiming to strike at the bridge of the man’s nose, to punish him for his transgressions.


word count: 490
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Re: Turn the other cheek

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Released from the tyrant’s iron gavel, thunder smashed into the man’s face. Caused by the only emotion that was real, fury. Anticipated by all, though none were prepared.

The vibration intensified. The blackness encased. Things fell apart. There was no more control. Fingertips grasped. Death.

The Spirit of Man appeared now in the form a brilliant light.

“Good is so much stronger than evil. Evil always seems stronger at first, but that’s because they must garner all their forces for countless centuries in order to actually stand a chance. Good does not seek power and thus always arrives late to the scene.”

The humming intensified with the Spirit’s incredibly strange final message, the mind prepared for shattering.

“Not today Gangui! You are one of the chosen few who have decided to have no breaking point!”

—-

A huge deep breath returned Gangui back into full cognition. He was backpedaling, then falling on the floor. The mighty strike had knocked the warrior’s sensory system out for a couple ticks, but he was still able to instinctually flee.

What happened? His face burned. Still swimming in hapless confusion, Gangui was not aware of his sustained injury. His nose was smashed, already swollen, leaking blood, and split. The mace had also kicked his four front teeth inside his mouth, removing some the upper lip flesh at the same time.

The anti-immortal blow hard wouldn’t be giving anymore speeches any time soon, nor would he be donning his famous moustache.

Raising his sword up in desperate guard, he continued to flee the avriel’s onslaught, all the while preparing a solution. He needed to change the beat of the dance, desperately needing a lull to collect himself.

Using the counter momentum of a successful parry, the warrior spun his sword around aiming at the avriel’s legs with the intention of dropping him or forcing him to disengage.




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The time for fanciful schemes and intricate plans had long since passed. The hybrid had seemingly always been able to keep at least a degree of his calm, and that was still the case, but the loss of such an important bodily part of him had sent him into something of a hateful spree. Each blow that sallied forth was filled with indignation, every parry with wretched anger. Even as blood seeped down his back, falling into the interlocking chains which made up his chest-piece, the hybrid sought to spill every drop of the warrior’s blood.

There had been a satisfying crack when the blow had fallen against Gangui, and it had managed to disfigure him rather handily as well as grant him the respite that he had hoped for from the assaults of the warrior. Now, he pressed his advantage, striking with fluid movements, the mace lashing out at every perceived weakness like a predator going for the neck of its prey.

The blows were deflected entirely, or else parried to an extent that whenever they fell, they were unable to cause any significant damage, but that did not stop the onslaught that he wrought forward. Where previously he had failed to see the inbound motion of the warrior’s blade, he now saw the subtle movements that indicated that Gangui would soon strike, and he prepared accordingly.

When the blade fell to lash at his legs, and the armor there, his mace swept downwards in a broad arc, like a scythe drawing across grains of wheat, making contact with the blade and sending a rattle up his own arm in the process. The blade deflected, the hybrid then out-stretched his other arm, almost for force of emphasis, allowing the otherworldly power which shared his form to lash out with its corrupting tendrils. The Beast awoke from its rest, raining terrible images and maledictions of the mind against the man as the hybrid sought to break his resolve.

”Submit and die!”


word count: 349
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Re: Turn the other cheek

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“Nooo!!!”

At least that is what he thought he said, but what really came out was an inaudible carnal grunt from deep within. The wound that he had sustained would prevent him from uttering any discernible words.

The froop-gloup black-goop seeped once again from the Avriel. Sparked by bloodlust and fueled by the prime emotion, fury, it began to embroil Gangui. It engulfed him from the inside out. Attacking him from the inseams; the very cross-stitching of the fabric of his soul began to unravel. Ripping and tearing itself into a festering cesspool of fear.

Gangui began to breath hard now and the pupils of his eyes vibrated as he began to erupt in paranoid anger. He was freaking out from Noth’s proffered words for some reason, but he didn’t know why. Despite this demoralization, the Turkey has gotten the lull he needed to recompose himself. Little good it did him, because he was now plagued with doubt and fear from the Raskalorani diri that possessed the tyrant.

There was no time to wait though. Nay! He needed to take one more step forward towards victory, no counting he costs! Mustering up the courage to act required him to swallow a mouthful of blood and accept that his own death was right around the corner.

The battle lull came to its natural conclusion when both tyrant and patriot squared up once again and prepared for another exchange.

Gangui was going to play on Noth’s level though, bringing his mentality down into the uncreative crushing fight style that the bird used. Flipping his sword around into a half sword grip, ready to slam his pointed hilt edge into the crow’s brain. Who needed a war pick when there was half-speeding!?

Bounding forward he tried to predict Noth’s movements so that he would be successful.

“Hiyaaaaah!!” A guttural noise sprayed blood and bone all in front of him in noisy cacophony.

word count: 335
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There was a brief interlude between the exchange of blows, a singular moment where each side, no matter their ideological differences could catch their breath and prepare for the onslaught. It was a logical concession to their own mortality, the fact that the same air which was tainted by their breaths was also required to facilitate the battle in the first place. In the end, right or wrong, wicked and good, just and injust, their differences boiled down to a pair of mortals fighting for what they believed was correct.

The interlude came to a cacophonous close as Gangui once more took to the offensive, twisting his sword so that he could grip it in what appeared to be a style more indicative of heavy and crushing blows than the elegant dueling often emphasized by swordplay. Indeed, the hybrid had encountered the style only a few times, and only by those mercenaries who had trained against armored opponents, those who recognized that their blades would not pierce metal hide.

He was, as it were, prepared for the assault. The hilt edge whistled through the air with violent incentive, and at its crux, the hybrid feinted with his leg, the slightest movement which managed to cause the warrior to pause in his swing. The pause was enough, and the heavy pick of the hilt whizzed by the Avriel’s head harmlessly, exposing the fellow to a true counter-attack. This time, the hybrid struck with his mace, aiming to thrash at the left arm of his foe before he could recover his stance from the whiffed swing.


word count: 266
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Vibrations echoed through the very sniews if his -ones. His lungs deflated with a cancerous wheeze. The muscles twisted at the point of blunt impact, knotted up like a thick rope, locking his gauntleted fist onto the blade of his bastard sword. He was stuck and could do nothing, but clench his sword to this chest and cover his heart.

’Huuuuu~~~~~’ He took a noisy breath, raspy and flem filled from the previously sustained donkey-hit.

Clumsily he pounded his feet away from cuckoo, all the while twisting the orientation his frame to diminish the area space available for the the adamantite boulder from slamming down upon him again.He couldn’t move his arm. He cursed from deep within. He needed to act.

The crow’s hammer whizzed horizontally and vertically.

Slow, slow, slow, fast.

Quick strikes were always followed by slow ones. Why should cuckoo use all his energy? In that regard, why would anyone not flow with the natural pace of the mace itself?

Gangui weaved and -owed. His left arm was still locked.

Using his right arm, he positioned himself for another strike against. He needed to hit him now and quick. He drought down the hilt, aiming to pick at him.

“TURKEY PECK!” He yelled, naming his own attack, ego making its appearance. Obviously only a gurgling hoarse scream emanated from his toothless growl.

A bastardized sword, in a bastardized stance, in a bastardized grip, for a bastard blooded fucking fool.

Human spirit, hear my prayer now, damn my opponents to hell ~~

word count: 264
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The hybrid could feel his heart slamming harshly against the confines of his ribcage, the echoing vibration of his body as it strained to its fullest, his unconscious mind alerting it to the danger of their situation, the nerves of his wing still aching with a stinging pain. Though it was true that the two were fighting for the sake of their ideologies, for the sake of conscious actions which had occurred, to say that all of their forms had not been committed to the battle would be an assertion of ineptitude. Even the flesh, even the skin shook and numbed with the fervor of slaughter, with the flushed heat of warfare.

He hammered away at the human male, striking blow after blow against him, feeling the vibration as it traveled up his own arm, satisfied at the subtle features of pain that could be seen with each successful strike. Of course, he was far from beaten, and to over-extend himself would mean allowing an additional blow to latch at his own flesh, and yet… the blood-lust, the urge to slay was far too great to resist.

It was the failure of the hybrid to disengage, however briefly, that allowed for Gangui to raise his blade in his own offensive stance, sending it whirling through the air like a deadly missile. The hybrid jerked suddenly, his vision turned aside from his target as the blow lay into his head, the metal pinching and biting at his flesh, jutting into it slightly above his eyelid. Wet blood spilled from the wound, leaking very nearly into his eye before sidling off to his cheek where it dripped out upon the ground.

The Avriel took a step away, regaining his composure, his hand raising upwards to detach the last hook of the helmet, allowing the crumpled piece of metal to fall to the ground with a shrill clanking noise. The armor had saved his life, no doubt, but it was now completely ruined, having lost its usefulness to him. The hybrid was not coherent in his thoughts, not tactical in his movements, instead, he merely shot forward like a tiger, his mace swinging and swaying through the air like the claw of a predatory beast.


word count: 389
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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