Completed [Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Kreig's latest foe is a longsword user, he'd rather not get stabbed.

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[Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Postby Kreig Messer on June 16th, 2018, 5:28 pm

Summer 20th 518 AV, 8th bell, 3rd chime.

It wasn’t quite often Kreig would feel a fight would become so personal, mind, he found all fights personal to a degree even if some were more for fun than anything else. Its difficult to say ‘nothing personal’ if one looked like a bruised tomato at the end of it after.

For Kreig, this particular bout in the Caged Pit at Tall Johnny’s was personal in a stranger sense. He was up against an armed foe once more, yet he eschewed the use of a breastplate this time though he retained the use of the vambraces and grieves. What was also against habit was the retaining of his ratty furred coat that he’d had since forever. He flexed his gauntlet covered fists, the feeling still a bit stiff from that day with the isur.

Where the Isur seemed to inspire a bit of terror, this opponent invited somber nostalgia. Oh he didn’t know his opponent, but the weapon of choice and the manner of posture bought memories of someone else he’d not seen in years.

Another face, another regret…another wonder’ He thought. Taking in a breath, he slammed the fist of his right to the palm of his left and looked at his opponent. A glint of determination sparked in his eyes that was not dissimilar, but yet not the same as his usual sort of bloodthirst.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all races and ages. Its been eleven days since you last seen this fighter, too soon for some’s tastes, too late for others. He calls himself the Son of Sunberth and wether he does that name proud is anyone’s guess; KREEEEEIG MESSEEEEEER

He felt a vein twitch in his head, what would it take them to say something positive about him?! Kreig just let out a frustrated sigh as he just set his eyes on his opponent. Not taking a particular stance, just staring.

To his opposite, an outsider who looks prissy enough you’d wonder if she’d fall in despair if she’d chip a nail. But time and time again she’s proven herself with that longsword of hers, enough so that its wise not to say so to her face, LOUIIISE FAIRCROFT!!

Hah! Kreig’s own irritation was assuaged as it was his opponents turn to get mocked. Still his description was somewhat apt, the outsider looked cleaner than most here in the ‘Berth. Blond hair cut to a practical bowl cut, her breastplate and the armor protecting her limbs all held this gleam of craftsmanship that would fetch a pretty miz. The clothing beneath them perhaps twice so even for their apparent practicality.

Yet it was the longsword itself that seemed to contain a masterful craftsmanship; it was made of steel like any other, yet there was a beauty to it that even Kreig appreciated. The fact it reminded him so of Syliras and Sera Natasha didn’t help matters.

Will Louise put down Kreig with that fanciful pigsticker of hers? Or will Kreig once more pummel his opponents with those fists of his and add her as another notch to his conquests? Only one way to find out…. FIGHTERS… BEGIN
Last edited by Kreig Messer on June 19th, 2018, 1:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Postby Kreig Messer on June 17th, 2018, 2:42 am

I like to think I can write something creative here but instead I am subjecting you to reading this for my own personal amusement you silly little people.Kreig took the initiative as he dashed forwards to close the distance between them, aiming for a straight punch from the onset. With a scrap of steel against steel however, Kreig’s fist was redirected and the edge of his opponent’s sword threatened to slice into his skin as it was brought in a quick swing with that same motion.

Kreig grinned at that, having to rotate his body and lean back lest the edge cut into his chest. He took a quick jump back and another, his fists raised in a boxer’s stance. ‘ To turn a defense into an offense. Seems she really knows what to do with that longsword'

And if he needed any more proof, it was her stance the cinched. Right after her quick attempted slice upon him, her stance shifted with the pommel and hilt of her sword just over her head. The long blade pointed as if aimed towards his throat or neck. His eyes memorized it, though familiarity and nostalgia helped cement the form to his memory.

Kreig made no attempt to strike this time, lest he got impaled by the blade in a powerful thrust or even struck down by a downward strike. He recalled the impression it gave him the first timewhen he saw his mentor do it, akin to the tusks of a boar ready to gore itself on unprepared fools. Seeing that Kreig would not approach, she shifted her stance as to lower her blade… though not completely, and in no way that she was any less dangerous.

Pointed downwards, she looked as if she was wide open to any attack. Kreig had fell to that before in battles with his Sera, he smirked in fond memory of it. As if to embrace the nostalgia, Kreig made a quick step forward, only step back as she raised her blade upwards in a small quick cut. He stepped back again when the tip of the longsword was then thrusted forward lightly, then stepped back again and to the side as she thrusted again.

He leaped back again, but a second too late this time as the tip of the blade grazed agains his abdomen, leaving a sharp cut that drew blood. The pain drew a sharp breath from Kreig, who dared not look down to his wound and away from his opponent. The wound had to be of flesh only, were it any deeper he’d be feeling a lot worse than the feeling he had of the air upon his wound.

She thrusted her blade again, and this time Kreig reacted by knocking it away with his arm, the steel of the vambrace hidden between the sleeve of his coat blunting the blow and redirecting it away. Kreig had hoped this would have force her off balance, but instead she moved with the motion, spinning and landing her elbow right in his abdomen… right were she cut him.

Kreig let out another sharp gasp, a tear rolling down his eyes as he thought ‘ Ayup, just like old times
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[Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Postby Kreig Messer on June 18th, 2018, 7:59 am

Kreig staggared back, then gathering what balance he could he jumped back before there was a follow up. Wincing lightly, he ran his hand against his wound. Raising his hand up into a fist, he noted the amount of blood and tsked. It wasn’t a profuse wound… but if it was aggravated further, well he was no medical professional but he’d best not allow her to.

When she regained her own posture, she quickly assumed a high stance with her blade held over head and pointing straight up. From there she could easily return to that ox like stance from the earlier or go for a powerful slash. Examining it, she could easily go back to the basic one he knew, the one where the blade was constantly pointed towards with the hilt held in front.

Combined with the one where she held it low and she knew all basic stances unlike himself with only the one. More troublesome was that her finesse and ability to counter made her the most troublesome of his opponents.

He hummed lightly, the tip of his boot tapping at the ground. He knew from the beginning it was going to the pain, wether he liked a fight or not he usually went to the big fights with the thought of ‘troublesome’ at the corner of his mind somewhere.

He suppose he should go about it that way then. Taking the initiative once more, he took a large step step forward with his left shoulder pulled back for a wide punch. In reaction, the lass immediately went for a straight down over head slash. That worked just fine for Kreig, his feint worked..

Instead of the throwing the punch he lossened his fist and went for a step back as his body pivoted to the side. The blade passing harmlessly by while he raised his right elbow and went for a leaping step forward.

Even with such a heavy attack thrown it seemed the woman had enough wits about her to jump back. She couldn’t avoid the attack completely but even as a trickle of blood dripped down her forehead she was nowhere near a daze a full strike would have inflicted on her. Kreig wasn’t done yet thought as he stepped forward immediately after, left fist pulled back as he rotatated his hip clockwise and unleashed his left in a rotating straight that struck her dead center in her breastplate with a loud crash of steel upon steel. The studs of his gauntlets leaving indents as she was launched backwards, the combination of unregained balance and force forcing her back to meet ground.

Kreig ran forward with a boot raised and ready to stomp and stomp he did. It was only the interception of the flat of her blade at the base, supported by one hand on the grip and the other against the flat. Kreig tsked as he tried to force his foot down but was only met by the surprising strength and determination exhibited by his foe.

The contest of strength and wills was lost as Kreig found it hard to maintain a balance. Ultimately he had to cut the contest short as he lept back, and again to avoid the swipe of her blade. Kreig smirked at his opponent in feigned condescension. He supposed he should change things up then.
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[Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Postby Kreig Messer on June 18th, 2018, 8:36 am

He turned his back around, giving that same infuriating smile as he turned his head and pointed with both thumbs at his back. It was a childish dare, arrogant to the point of stupidity. “Come on lil’ lassy, I got yer number now. If ya think can get me back then I oughtta be proved wrong, if ya think ya can play with the males than you oughta stick it like you got one down there, eh?” That seemed to do the trick, irritation flashing upon his opponents face.

Depending on the strike he would react accordingly, but he ultimately hoped for a certain kind of strike. And boy oh boy was she about to deliver as she went for that ox-stance and moved forward to deliver that thrust. Lowering his coat partway, Kreig spun and removed it the rest of the way as he tossed the piece of apparel over his opponents head.

With her now blinded to his antics, he stepped in close and crouched lightly as brought his fists close. With a rotation of his hips, he struck her side with a right hook, then shooting his left upwards he caught her protected gut in an uppercut, then shifting to her side he brought his right into a downward punch to her back which was more of shove, pushing her down to the ground.

Even with that breastplate, his studded guantlets would at least be like miniature maces with the impact they’d leave behind. Perhaps they were not as devastating, but enough blows stack up and that’s what he counted on now to win this. He gathered his breath a bit before he pulled back his foot, ready to follow up with a few kicks to make sure the job was done. Then he felt a tugging sensation on the back of his foo, automatically looking he saw something that made his expression go annoyingly flat and let out a tsk. As the hilt of his opponents sword was pulled, fell onto his back as his eyes met the roof of the Tall Johnny’s.

Shoulda aimed for the back of her head’ He thought not unkindly, although he had his reasons for not wanting to inflict what could be quite a lethal wound. He’d already given enough foes enough injuries that could be categorized as permanent and he actively tried not to break their limbs despite them not returning the favor.

Tilting his head, he saw that his foe was back on her feet and tossed aside his coat which lay harmlessly on the ground. Her hand gripping the blade by the flat and quickly joined by the other as she launched forward, Kreig would have expressed his confusion if he didn’t feel the urgency to roll aside, where his body once was now lay the indent of a crossgaurd in the center.

Going to his Knee, Kreig launched the bottom of his right into a kick which was promptly blocked and redirected by the flat of her blade. His opponent still gripping the blade by the flate she angled the tip into a thrusting motion intend to slice rather than stab.

The edge cut into Kreig’s cheek and it was only by the grace of falling backwards he did not see a flesh of it dangling from his face. The blade suddenly shifted to its flat as it rested against his neck. Out of re-flex, Kreig’s fingers gripped the edges, the leather covering them from under the gauntlet the only separator from them being cut as he pushed back against the blade while his opponent climbed onto his chest, pressing with fervor as she tried to bring her blade to his neck.

“Yield, and you may yet live” She announced crossly. Kreig could only grin, as he looked up at her.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard yet”
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[Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Postby Kreig Messer on June 19th, 2018, 1:40 pm

It was a struggle, not helped by Kreig feeling a particular pain on his abdomen from her weight that made it difficult for him to push her off. Not that it wouldn’t have been difficult regardless due to the armor she wore adding further weight. Honestly, he met the ground far too often for his liking.
Her eyes smoldered into his and Kreig felt a bit of nastiness springing up as he suckedon the inside of his mouth to gather spit. Like plenty of his fights, he needed to fight dirty…here was no different. She was close enough that he felt fairly good in his odds, enough so that two words gathered in his mind to form this question ‘ Why not?

With that that spat into one of her eyes, the spittle surprised and stung her eyes and by reflex she slackened her grip. Kreig helped her with that as he pushed back and knocked his forehead into her face, unfortunately he miscalculated as his brow met hers and instead of only her getting a broken nose they’d both ended up with aching foreheads as scalp met scalp.

“Owwww…” he quietly hissed as he pulled back, then remembering where he was pushed his daze opponent off and stood up. Only to slap his own forehead again, then wincing at the sore spot, as he realized he could have overturned her literally with her own blade against her own neck. ‘No point cryin’ over spilt ale’ he tsked, even as his opponent quickly regained her own wits and was now on her knees pointing her blade at him, preventing him from simply rushing her while she stood back up.

“Are you only good for dirty tricks, bastard?” She sneered, and only sneered further as Kreig shrugged. What could he say? He was a native of Sunberth, if a native wasn’t fighting dirty then there was something very very wrong with them.

And irritation only helped him; angry opponents who can’t keep a firm lid on it are likely to pull some unwise shyke and Kreig would capitalize that when he could. Lowering his fists, Kreig looked to his coat which was on the ground and not far from her “Could I get that back?” Kreig blatantly asked.

Further irritation colored her face as she glance quickly at the coat in question then back to Kreig “Are you serious” Once more, to her irritation, Kreig shrugged again.

“Was worth a try, they seem to be a weakness of yours”

Her eyes narrowed as she stepped closed to the coat, not facing nor pointing away her blade from Kreig for a moment. Kreig observed as she stood near it, watching the motion of her body. The moment she shifted her leg and kicked the coat further behind her, Kreig darted forward quickly and sudennly.

In her surprise she raised her blade to guard as Kreig raised the sole of his foot and launched it forward, pushing her back. Switching to a low stance, she attempted to stab Kreigs thigh only for it to be kicked with a grieve covered leg. Unwillingly she stepped back again, narrowly avoiding Kreig’s left jab and the other that follow it.

That’s right darlin’, jus’ keep moving back ’ Kreig thought, aiming a low kick at the tip of her sword to knock it aside. Pulling back his right to his waist as if about to throw a hook punch, Kreig watched her step back and mentally grinned. Suddenly ducking down, he grabbed at the edge of his coat with both hands and pulled!

His foe eyes widened in surprised as she landed on her back, only now realizing she was being led to stand atop his coat. As she crashed on her back she tried to angle the tip of her blade at him, but a sharp kick to the pommel of her sword saw forcibly freed from her grip and launch it sliding behind. Then the weight of Kreig’s boot landed on her chest and looking down on her was one Kreig Messer, grinning like a petcher.

“Now, since ya were so kind as to offer me a chance to be givin’ up. How ‘bouts I gives ya the same” Kreig said, smiling a bit cheerfully. Unfortnately, his down foe looked to be stubborn.

“Go shyke in a river, whoreson” Kreig gave an empty little frown as he tsked, tsked tsked. Sliding his boot closer to her neck.

“Now now, this ain’t like when ya got me down. Ain’t got your sword in hand, an’ I’m planted right firm enough that you ain’t gonna shake this leg of mine enough” His boot touched bear skin, pushing her head back as it rested on her throat “See.. there’s two ways this could go, I could keep pressin’ on ya till ya pass out… an’ ya see; that’s the good outcome” Kreig began, beginning to press into it lightly “The other one? Woof, I mean I could jus’ keep pressin’, even if yer on the point of passin’. Blockin’ yer air only for a bit at least means ya can breath again once I move my foot away.

He then pressed deeper, her hands on his ankles as she tried to pull it away “But havin’ it right crushed? Dust Bed might be needin’ to prep a new box for ya if they don’ just burn ya as kindlin’ in the Slag Heap” Of course Kreig was bluffing on the latter, he had much more honor than that. Either she passed out or voiced her surrender… death needn’t be on the table and Kreig wouldn’t resort to that unless he’d no other choice.

There was a bit of fear in her eyes, young as she was she must’ve felt she was invincible… and with that came of fear of seeing it all crashing down and realizing she was mortal; too afraid to die in the moment now that realization hit her. He loosened lightly to allow her breath and to ask “So, you want this all pleasant like? Or should I entertain myself” He smiled “Jus’ holler ma’am, let ‘em hear it”

“I…I YEILD!” she shouted

“Gonna have to be louder” Kreig said, a short moment passing with no word from that annoying fellow.

“I YEILD, KREIG IS THE VICTOR”

WELL WELL, LADIES AND GENTS. WORD HAS REACHED THESE EARS AND IT IS MY DUTY TO LET YOU HEAR IT; LOUISE HAS DECLARED DEFEAT, GIVING VICTORY TO KREIG AND KEEPING HIS SPREE GOING!” Kreig stepped back and sighed, his face collapsing into relief. Picking up his coat, he walked away but not before looking back at Louise who was gathering her breath and glaring at Kreig.

Kreig turned away and sighed, at least he didn’t put someone on a stretcher this time. Now… to see someone about the cut on his face and body….
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Feeel thy wrath!!!!

"You gents best be careful, I'm feelin' mighty rabid right now... and your the only ones around to bite"
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Kreig Messer
The guy in crazy town.
 
Posts: 1094
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[Tall Johnny's] A Dance of Fists and Blades

Postby Kreig Messer on July 8th, 2018, 5:04 pm

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Grade :
Kreig Messer



Experience

Skill XP Earned
Unarmed 2 XP
Boxing 4 X
Intimidation 2 XP
Acrobatics 2 XP
Tactics 2 xp



Lore

Louise Faircroft: Nostalgic Swordswoman
Longsword: High Stance
Longsword: Ox Stance
Longsword: Low stance
Intimidation: Threatening injury or death can do wonders
Brawling: Coats make good blinds


Notes :
Feel free to PM me with any questions concerning your grade.



Credit goes to Trickster for this lovely Template

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Image
Feeel thy wrath!!!!

"You gents best be careful, I'm feelin' mighty rabid right now... and your the only ones around to bite"
User avatar
Kreig Messer
The guy in crazy town.
 
Posts: 1094
Words: 883597
Joined roleplay: January 22nd, 2012, 7:55 am
Location: Syliras
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Featured Contributor (1)
Featured Thread (1) Mizahar Grader (1)
Trailblazer (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)


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