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Post by Amelia Royce on Oct 26, 2012 20:51:58 GMT -5
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The next morning Benjen sees Crowl off, staring at the island from the top of the walls.
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Karyl Crowl
Prince
Proud Proprietor of Crowl's Crossbone Construction Company
Posts: 1,022
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Post by Karyl Crowl on Oct 26, 2012 21:08:45 GMT -5
Crowl sets off for the island, he is wearing his usual plate and a bear fur over them, he has on his fists two gleaming gauntlets with the inch thick spikes on them freshly sharpened.
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Post by Ser Titus Grafton on Oct 26, 2012 21:09:03 GMT -5
Titus was there as well, the anger of the previous night dissipating with the rising son. "The people of the Vale will long sing of the great deeds of the Crowl," he said, in encouragement to the big man.
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Karyl Crowl
Prince
Proud Proprietor of Crowl's Crossbone Construction Company
Posts: 1,022
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Post by Karyl Crowl on Oct 26, 2012 21:11:06 GMT -5
"I wish for no songs to be made in my honor, only for the honor of the north. Those that wish to honor this moment should only remember this day for what it was." Crowl says in response before disembarking to the isle.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:15:13 GMT -5
The island is twenty yards long and a bit over half that wide, rising two or three feet above the surrounding river. On the far side of it, drying himself off from his trek through the cold river, is the champion. He is six feet tall and enormously wide, looking like he'd have to turn sideways to fit through doors. In each hand is a long sword, curved, with a single edge razor-sharp. He wears no armor save boiled leather. When he sees the Crowl come up onto the island, he looks confused. "Is this a joke?"
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Karyl Crowl
Prince
Proud Proprietor of Crowl's Crossbone Construction Company
Posts: 1,022
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Post by Karyl Crowl on Oct 26, 2012 21:17:12 GMT -5
"I don't think so, I am sure you are the person I am supposed to be fighting." He says flexing his gauntleted hands.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:19:21 GMT -5
The man looks suspicious. "Where are your weapons? you...know this is a duel, right?" The man couldn't possibly be fighting unarmed.
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Karyl Crowl
Prince
Proud Proprietor of Crowl's Crossbone Construction Company
Posts: 1,022
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Post by Karyl Crowl on Oct 26, 2012 21:20:55 GMT -5
The Crowl's only response to this is to hold up his hand and wave them slightly, he does so with a giant smile and almost sticks his tongue out at his opponent.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:27:56 GMT -5
The man smiles savagely and the fight is on.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:33:12 GMT -5
Karyl Crowl VS the champion:
Crowl: 86, Plate Champion, NPC
Round 1:
Crowl: 177 Champion: 192
The fight starts with the champion on a rampage that would kill nearly any man, his twin swords waving in a clever pattern. Kary Crowl is apparently not most men. He seems to read the man's mind, not falling for his feints and straining to close the distance, to where his strength and gauntleted hands can do their work. The champion didn't become champion by letting men do that, however, and the odd clanking of arakh and gauntlet rings through the cold morning air and fog.
From the ramparts the northmen watch, Elyse Redfort hiding behind her fellow Valeman nad only occasionally poking her head around his shoulder. No one can believe the psychotic, bestial northman is still alive.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:36:31 GMT -5
Round 2:
Crowl: 154 Champion: 109 (-20)
Unbelievably, the Crowl closes without suffering any damage to anything but his armor, and a few seconds later, the satisfying crunch of a spiked gauntlet hitting a vulnerable spot in the man's torso is heard. Karyl grins ferally as the champion staggers back in shock, not used to being hit, much less by a man using his fists. He does another cunning combo, but Crowl steps out of the way, dipping, ducking, dodging and driving him backwards.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:39:34 GMT -5
Round 3:
Crowl: 89 (-15) Champion (-20): 139
Crowl gets overconfident, and after another drive to force the man to close with him, the champion sidesteps, throws one arakh over the Skaag's head, swings a powerful two handed blows into his shoulder with his remaining, slides around, and catches the arakh, all in under a second and a half. Seldom is such precision seen. Karyl grunts and thinks of the time he punched a rock five thousand times because it wouldn't move out of his way while he was drinking. Water.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:41:31 GMT -5
Round 4:
Crowl (-15): 96 Champion (-20): 104
Crowl fights him off and keeps chasing him around, and the match vaguely resembles a maiden being chased around a table by a drunken and aroused gentleman, only in this case the maiden has swords, and the aroused man has fists.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:44:35 GMT -5
Round 5:
Crowl (-15): 150 Champion (-20): 134 (-30 now)
Crowl catches the fair maiden and gives her a big hug, only this isn't a romantic tryst gone bad, this is a two hundred fifty pound man crushing a similarly sized man to death with a bear hug that would make god beg for mercy. The champion feels a rib pop, but hits Karyl so hard in the head even he sees birdies. The northman clearly got the better of the exchange, but wastes precious time trying to catch one of the yellow and black finches floating about his head.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 26, 2012 21:46:36 GMT -5
Round 6:
Crowl (-15): 120 Champion (-30); 100 (-40)
Crowl realizes that the birds are not his friends and goes back on the attack, his opponent weakening now, having to toss one arakh to the side to have the strength to deal damage. The style doesn't suit him well, and he takes more gauntlet holes to the same rib as earlier.
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