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01-02-2015, 03:09 PM
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Thranduil
Silver armored body swayed in anticipation as his roar sent its last echoes. If that scum did not answer the gold would light the world a blaze till he could drag out that pathetic excuse for a spy and show him the meaning of hellfire. Wait. The gold seizes to alert at a figure which rises into view, but it is not the little one he sought. Harks pin back onto the hot metal beneath them, and teeth bare. What trickery was this?! Did that little shit think he could gang up on the gold? The fires of his anger seeped from every pore at the thought, till all the gold needed to replica his inner burning was scales and smoke. The words the dark giant speaks slip through a hazy smoke screen and confusion acts as wood for the flame. Those earth eyes though can see as sharp as day that this brute was not afraid. This was Thor, of the Edge. He was not blind to see Thor was taller, much taller, and armored with experience of several more years. This his eyes could see, but the fire which filled their gaze did already see the future of him burning with pain upon the ground. The gold would know no other reality, and heed no rational thought, for the fire consumed all, including himself. Moments ticked by as the bay at last stopped and with his smile and sly words, clothes usually covering the gold, spoke of his purpose. His own insides licked with the heat, and outrage sizzled his thoughts. His prey was stolen from him, protected by those who were better fit for war. Those cheats and thieves! Crimes compounded and it only set his fury ablaze brighter. “Then you will be my messenger, Thor.” Cetan, that pathetic vermin would see what fires awaited to sear his flesh. He would find stumbling home his teacher, broken and burned. Scorned by the wrath of the golden as but a warning of the inferno he awoke. “And I shall teach him of hellfire.” If Thor wanted to bear the marks of the gold for his charge, so be it. He will burn with the flames of the golden son and feel the very sting of the inferno’s rage. Enough threats and smoke, says he, let the world burn. The molten gold, armored and wet already with sweat, explodes on a rampage of fire and fury straight for the head of this earthen brute. It is hard to pity such a mad man, yet knowing as we do what infernos and hellfire that bay carries about his neck, the sight carries a bitter distaste. Irony is the death of many men, and the swords of pride and anger have betrayed their bearers time and time again. So is it now, so will it always be. The gold will once more be brought back to the dirt and blood of this earth, even if he cannot see it in the flames that future surely hides in the black shadows of the smoke. The gold will stumble from this with scars and burns all his own. And certainly there will be days he cannot rise from such wounds, but it will not be this day. This day would not set to see the gold lying broken upon the ground. He did not intend to yield this day to the hands of these pathetic cowards who hide behind one another at the fear of crossing him. He –would- not fall this day. So say all mortals who later find the sweet earth a ready eternal bed. Tearing across the sands in a storm of heat and wrath, the gold kicks, like flames licking his heels, thousands of grains of sand into the air. His armor, heavy though it was, clanged like a battalion. It slowed his pace perhaps, and strained that which bore its weight, but he could feel none of it now for the flames which lite his very legs afire did seep into his blood adrenaline and might. Head, crowned with the tips of five spears did lower, ready like torches to set the skin of the enemy ablaze with pain and blood. Just steps away the armored gold drifted in his charge to the right, but only slightly. Horns now aimed at air but his left shoulder should still be aimed to slam into the bay. The flames were consuming, and did so ignite the gold that certainty could not be known. If his shoulder hit though, the force should pivot his frame and slam his horns into that bay’s hide. The world took one last breath before the explosion of the infernos were let loose and all laid to waste by flame and fury. "talk talk talk" OOC:: Thranduil accepts Thor as Cetan's defender, with the same conditions should the spar default. Please note as well that as this is a challenge the time limit is shortened to 72 hrs after the roll. Also, for my sanity (XD) please be very detailed about what exactly the amulet unleashes, should you choose to use it. Good luck Linds. =] TAG:: @[Thor] WORD:: 796 ATK:: 1/4 DEF:: 0/1 Injuries:: None Summary:: Enraged Cetan would hide behind another the gold charges straight at the bay. He stays straight but drifts slightly to the right when he closes in, hoping to hit the bay with his left shoulder and pivot his horns into him. CONDITIONS:: In order to fully seek his revenge the battle has the following additional conditions. Though default is allowed, it will be an acceptance of a task set by Thranduil. Thor will have until the last sun of autumn to make, steal, or find a metal sword or spear, and give to Thranduil. This can also be obtained OOCly through items, this equaling a medium item. If these conditions are not satisfied by the last sun of autumn, Thranduil has full right to Thor's head (another spar without the option to default). These conditions have been agreed to by both parties. |
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Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
