[finished] Duggor vs. Turnob (Groddil vs. TammLeo)

[Captain Tammo]

OOC: Well that's what I get for writing late at night XD. I'll go ahead and make the edits accordingly, my bad!

Also, I sort of took that liberty on myself with the sling stone. I know you had not thrown it in your last post - just thought this would make things interesting for the both of us: Turnob's now injured pretty bad and Duggor now has to react to a new attack. If you would rather keep things so that we have absolutely no say on anything the other character does, that's fine. I can just rewrite my post and we can move from there. I had been playing with a relatively relaxed play style where we can do smaller things with the other characters as long as nobody plays god.

[Groddil]

OOC: All good. I just realised that if Turnover was right in front of Diggor, the sling itself would have hit him. Serves ME right for typing at night.

BIC:

Duggor went to raise his sling, in an attempt to use it to catch and stop the broken bow, but to no avail. He was. no warrior. He knew it, the ferret knew it, and the crowd of onlookers knew as well. The bow instead slammed into his paw with a sinister crack. The mole dropped the sling and fell in a heap. Whimpering, he reached for the rusty blade he had sicarded at the beginning of the fight.

[Captain Tammo]

Heavy breathing could be seen in Turnob's chest, even from afar. He was not one to normally lose his cool like this in battle, and he had pillaged and killed before. But this occasion was different - he was hurt now and it was doubtful that his jaw would ever heal back fully. Now the ferret turned toward his blind hatred for strength. He raised the bow again and brought it down hard, looking to strike a solid hit on the mole's head.

[Groddil]

Duggor's already damaged paw took the brunt of Turnob's second hit. Bones had to have been shattered, thought the mole. He whimpered as his free paw closed around the handle of the rusty blade. He shuffled away from Turnob, staggering to his feet with the sword raised defensively.

[Captain Tammo]

Turnob's high was already beginning to wear off and he found his mind returning to himself once again now that he was not able to pummel the mole into submission. The ferret tried to think the situation through but his lack of willpower, and now the pain of his injury, were two key factors that had already been put to work clouding his mind. There were still a couple of factors that, even without thinking straight, Turnob could recognize: his opponent was now armed for close combat, and he could have sworn that he heard a cracking noise come from his weapon in his last strike - which would spell bad news for Turnob if he was not able to end the battle within the next few swipes.

[Groddil]

Duggor also had a revelation. He had to use the blade. Had to kill the ferret. For the Dibbuns. He couldn't hold Turnob off forever. Bracing himself for what was to come, the mole swiped the sword at Turnob. It was a weak swing, not likely to do much damage even if it did hit.

[Captain Tammo]

Turnob's bow hit its mark on the mole, but there also came spark of pain across Turnob's stomach. His opponent had cut him from one side all the way to the other. While it was a shallow wound, the shock was enough to make Turnob take a step back to recollect himself. As if the wound inflicted by Duggor was opening a pocket of steam in Turnob's body, the injury of being caught off guard a second time was enough to make Turnob both panic and start thinking with his head again. Brute force against the mole will only get myself killed. He thought to himself, never taking his eyes off target. I need a plan...

Looking down at his weapon for only a quick glance, Turnob noticed a fair-sized crack cutting the center in half. Darting his eyes back up at the mole again, he began to think up a plan.

[Groddil]

While Turnob was distracted again, the mole once more swung his blade, this time in a heavy swing over his head. But alas, Duggor's aim was not true, and the sword smashed into the ground. Unable to take any more punishment, the blade snapped right off the hilt. The mole cried out in pain as the shocks reverberated up his arms, causing him to drop the sword hilt and fall to the ground, clutching his paws. Tears milled up in his eyes. Why was this happening? Why had the wildcat had to attack his home?
"P-Please, zurr. Give oi mercy."

[Captain Tammo]

Had Turnob been able to speak (something he could not do with his broken jaw), he felt that he would have said something along the lines of: "I don't think I would have killed you normally, but it's better you than me. Heh, look at yer life, you scum. See what trouble I go through to do you a favor?"

Gloating at his imminent victory, Turnob did not hesitate. Using his knee, he broke his bow in half and held one piece in each paw. It ain't nothing personal he thought as heavy breaths escaped his gaping mouth, anythin's better than Malumgula's fire pit. It was either gonna be you or me, an' it wasn't gonna be me! Turnob unleashed his anger on the helpless mole and began trying to club him at least into an unconscious state so that he could claim his victory with as little effort as possible. What kind of world was he going back to once he won this fight? Another arena battle tomorrow? It was almost certain that Malumgula would not wait for his injuries to heal before Turnob would be thrown back in the arena. He'd have to try an escape. Grubslug had been talking about a possible exit plan. If Turnob could get to him, maybe they could put enough distance between themselves and this hell hole that they might live normal lives?

He brought his two clubs down hard on the mole. Harder than ever now that he had a will to live again.

[Groddil]

Duggor whimpered under the first few blows, but he soon felt himself blacking out. Unfortunately for the Dibbuns, the only creature to keep them safe would not come back to them. Aside from the small amount of young survivors, the horde once headed by Malumgula had managed to do what no other vermin could do. Wipe out Redwall Abbey. And, thanks to Grubslug's takeover, the death of the Abbey creatures was a completely pointless waste of lives. In the coming seasons, Mossflower would devolve even further into chaos, with Redwall being occupied by vermin lord after vermin lord. Woodlanders would either flee to the Fire Mountain, or die.

OOC: Once I get to this part in the story, I'm gonna use this in We Happy Few.

[Captain Tammo]

OOC: This is so sad D:

It was a pleasure dueling with you, sir Groddil. I hope that I did you character justice!