The Brawl to Rule them All(SE Tournament)

The battle was back under Andrea’s control… somewhat. She was healed, as fully as an Elixer could manage to heal a puncture wound to the shoulder; she had a more favorable weapon drawn and she had succeeded in parting the distance between herself and the Lancer. On the other hand, her Haste spell would once again wane from its effectiveness. Meanwhile, the lancer had also taken the liberty of healing his wounded leg. Now he was on the offensive again, and moving all the faster… enough at least to match to Andrea’s own pace.

Taking the defensive, Andrea responded by moving backwards; though she wouldn’t be able to widen the gap much, she could at least assist herself in keeping the gap at a constant. Against his indirect, zigzagging directional shifts he employed throughout his approach, this much would be an easier feat than if he were striking out in a straight line. As she maintained her back stepping, she emptied the two Stun Shells from the Gunblade’s chamber; they fell to the ground, discarded for their lack of usefulness against the lancer and his armored plating.

She dove into her ammunition. Through quick glances, she spotted and pulled her desired rounds: Four were armor piercing rounds; they had worked out before, after all. The other two were a pair of Gravity-Based shells. After traveling a distance, these shells would generate a gravitational pull, to draw in nearby objects… including people, if they were vulnerable to them. She loaded the six rounds in an alternating order: a single gravity shell would be followed by two armor piercing shells. Naturally, her plan would run the risk of her being pulled in by the same gravitational force as her opponent; but that could be put to her advantage.

She set her aim as the lancer made a cut to his left. Her shot aligned to deliver the bullet further to left, in a direction he would continue if he didn’t change direction again. She fired, estimating that the spell would initiate after reaching roughly seventy-five feet out, an approximation of the distance between herself and the lancer. On the release of the spell, she too would be pulled up, forward, and to her right; the effect would be minimal, compared to the anticipated effect against the lancer.

The following two shots, the armor piercing shells, would be fired in a Haste-imbued succession. The first of these would aimed more towards the lancer’s right, a compensation for the likelihood of him resisting the pull of the gravity spell. The second would be aimed towards the a lancer for the event that he could not resist the gravitational pull, while also accounting for the possibility of the bullet itself being pulled. If Andrea’s calculations proved accurate, the force would be enough to at least pull away his shield arm.

 

Bang! Bang!

Andrea’s two armor piercing rounds flung out of the Gunblade’s barrel flying along their intended paths. Yet, they would both miss their intended target. The lancer, to the dismay of the gunner, had responded to the initial gravity shell in a most unexpected manner: evading upward; likely interpreting the shot as another armor piercing round.

As per Andrea’s rough estimate, the gravity well produced by the shell hadn’t been quite strong enough to pull her completely in at that distance. Though her feet lost contact with the ground, and she was pulled forward, it amounted to as little as her drifting a few feet in towards the arena’s center… even so, that slight movement held the potential for fatal consequences. She maintained her attention upon the lancer’s movement, watching him within his dive into the gravity’s pull. Though her line of sight was initially obscured by the effects of the shell, the true intent of his movement was evident when he finally came full circle.

As it stood, the energy requisite within the shell to maintain the gravity well could only last for so long. As the lancer completed his circle, that very energy diminished drastically. Not in time to nullify his maneuver, yet with at least a hair of time to allow Andrea to ground herself prior to the incoming strike. His bold move had necessitated a brief widening of the gap; it accounted for relatively little… but a little could still make for a significant distance.

Not willing to risk everything on a counter offensive, Andrea cast Protect upon herself as she dropped to the ground. All that was left was to test how well her opponent could adjust at such speeds. There was no room for a lateral evasion; that seemed the most open to interception. Moving upward was an impossibility; Andrea knew she would never make that sort of jump. Down then. Continuing the motion she was already caught in, Andrea proceeded to drop into a backwards fall to place herself below the lancer’s trajectory.

As she neared the ground, she would turn over, both orienting herself stomach first and inching her way out of line with the lancer’s shield; if she was right, that would be the more likely tool for sweeping low-lying victims. She would then aim her Gunmblade out for a more proper shot, and fire the second gravity shell ahead of herself, and, by extension, ahead of the lancer’s charge. All going according to the plan, his prior momentum would only be amplified by a second gravity well, pulling him further forward, and into crash-course towards the wall enclosing the arena… or possibly risk self-injury by reorienting himself against the force of his own movement.

 

Try as she might have, there was little Andrea could do to resist the vicious gravitational pull of her own shell this time. Unable to properly pull herself up, she slid forward upon her stomach, her layers of padded clothing the only grace sparing her the scars from skidding across the arena’s stonework floor. On the more fortunate note, her maneuver had, though barely, served its purpose. The lancer skimmed past her overhead. A narrow distance separated her from him his charge and he was carried towards the second gravity well, knocking against the wall with a clatter of metal against stone.

Soon after the second gravity well faded. Andrea, now freed from the pull of her own bullet, righted herself up properly. At the edge of the arena, the lancer was doing the same, and seeming worse for the wear than Andrea. With a spare moment, she reached down with a quick glance into her ammunitions. She filled out the empty chambers of her weapon, loading in four additional armour piercing rounds. The battle had reached a point of direct confrontation; trickery would serve little purpose.

In a moment, the lancer was back on the move. Expected. Her opponent took to the sky again. Andrea raised her weapon, handling it with both hands, and traced the lancer’s ascent. As he began his descending rush, she took her aim: a slight adjustment to her left, intent upon the lancer’s spear-arm. She pulled back the trigger; the shot rang out. After giving herself a brief second of steadying pause, she cut away towards her left side, attempting to circle her opponent.
​

 

Useless. As she veered off to her left, Andrea put her back to her airborn foe. As she sprinted, changing course as though turning tail, she looked back and caught an over-the-shoulder glimpse of the lancer. In spite of the slope of his diving strike, he had managed to sharply enough to realign himself to properly impale her. First his turnabout from the last gravity well, and then this; how much force could the man’s body withstand before pulling apart?

The gunner couldn’t waste the time finding out now. As it seemed, whatever direction she would move in, the lancer would be able to adjust to follow her. She had no choice but to stand and face him head on now… Running didn’t win anyone any battles anyways.

She tore a glance back again. He was closer now, and only drawing in nearer on his frictionless skim through the skies. It was on this glance back that she came to a thought: a man, coated in metal armor… metal was an amicable conductor... and she had access to two forces that could be conducted… still retreating she clasped her gunblade, setting her finger over the trigger. The trace flow of static, the byproduct of the Thunder spell, gathered within the weapon, and imbued itself into her next round. In a sharp, u-turn maneuver, she faced the lancer’s charge.

Then came the dangerous, and outright tricky part. The only way her shot would work properly would be if it were placed as out of reach of his shield as possible. This meant keeping to his right, and dealing with the glowing spear… she continued her own, short charge towards the approaching lancer, steadily lowering at the knees, while setting her movement on a minute diagonal to her left. A few quick steps, and she would spring off of her bent knees to dive from the path of the incoming spear.

Reaching the vertical apex of this dive, she aligned her barrel: hitting the right side of the lancer’s torso would do just fine. She fired, theorizing, in her own contemplation, that even without hitting skin, the infused spell would carry through the metalwork of the armor, which, by way of contact, would carry over some manner of effect its occupant.

 

This is really getting on my nerves.

What hope Andrea held in her effort faded rapidly. Her bullet, well-aimed as it might have been, was halted by her foe’s equally well-maneuvered block. Worse so, the shield that she had worked to circumvent, seemed to be taking the damage without issue. The final knife in this myriad of stabs to her morale came in the glowing edge of the lancer’s spear. The bladed fixture cut through her layers of padding, breaking skin.

It was by the chance of circumstance that she would be spared the worst of this assault. She had, at least, acted somewhat more radically than the lancer might have expected; she anticipated that her charging straight towards his thrust certainly would have yielded a ‘premature’ contact. Thus, her dive had already put her below the lancer’s charge. The falling motion as she took her shot helped, to an extent. What would have been a large, gash in her right oblique, was relegated to something more of cut from a good knife at its worst.

She landed on the ground as the lancer passed overhead, falling, bearably onto her left arm. Off of her landing, she barrel-rolled across the the ground a short distance before springing up to her feet. She rose as the lancer dropped. As her resilient adversary established his defenses, Andrea was furiously combing her thoughts for ideas. She observed his spell, a veiling aura surrounding the warrior. It seemed tangible enough though; such spellwork often related to the repelling of incoming spells. Guess I’m doing this dry then.

She dove back into her ammunitions, and loaded in two additional rounds into her gunblade. Both were, in fact, blank shells. Neither would release a bullet, but the shock resulting from their use would vibrate the blade violently. Amplifying the damage she could deal to the lancer was paramount.

She took a fighting stance, suddenly feeling slightly more damaged after the lancer’s recent attack than she felt she should have been. Whatever the sense of weakness was, she would have to fight through it. She held her position though. She had to read her opponent’s next move. Whatever the cost, short of her own viability, at least one thing had to be parted from the Lancer’s arsenal. If she couldn’t get around his defenses and counter-offenses, she would just have to break through them.

 

Stoic, Andrea remained as a stone sentinel in both movement and expression. With as little as a wince, her eyes preserved a steady watch of the arena in front of her. Centering attention on the lancer, she cast her gaze around his vicinity as he crept forward. Up, down, left, right, and all directions in between were given careful consideration. Straying to her right would be the preferable course, though not for an attack; that had to happen head on. A quick getaway would require not having the spear in a perfect position to take another pass at her.

Then there was the matter of how to back her next move. Speed was of typical importance, and another Haste would be something worth her effort. Then, she couldn’t be certain how the increased speed would factor into the burst of movement; for all she knew, that sort of force could tear her apart at the limbs. Reinforcing her next strike would prove the more preferable course. The issue of speed would work itself out. With a discreet tone, she cast Sabre. The effects came to her in the exhilarating sensation that came from having gotten a good round of strength training.

Finally, there was the matter of the lancer’s approach: It simply wouldn’t do to have him tiptoeing about; if she could get him to charge her… that could at least keep him on a predictable course. She had only one idea for resolving that issue. Another wild gambit, and certainly one with less calculated assuredness as any she had previously endeavored. A lancer, a visage not so far removed from a knight? He definitely dressed to such an effect. Could he be prodded in the same manner? Could his feathers be ruffled by slander? Would a pass at a sense of pride carry enough force to spur him to reckless behavior?

Though unsure of where her adversary’s honor and pride had their lines drawn, Andrea resolved to exploit them, if they were there. At best, she could throw him off with insult; anyone who could be provoked through such means could become clouded over the course of a battle. At the worst, he simply wouldn’t take the bait, and Andrea would retain a still-tame opponent. She was confident that she could handle anything in between.

Holding onto her poker face as much as the act would allow, she let out a scuffing, snort of a breath, before earnestly, and bluntly remarking: “Coward.” ​

 

Movement. The Lancer's pace quickened following Andrea's comment. Still, the gunner found herself displeased with the result. While the warrior's charge was indeed expedited, it was far from the mad, bullrush of a man who had taken a stab to his honor. Perhaps this was merely this one's way of displaying his anger; that it was his standard to stay outwardly collected, even in the face of insult. Or, maybe, Andrea's chiding hadn't achieved its intended goal.

Whichever was the case, it left Andrea standing down the charge of spear-wielding, armor-clad combatant that remained calculated and cautious down to each footfall.

At least he was still charging forward. This much gave Andrea a chance she needed: an opponent following a more determinable path. She eyed the lancer's quickened movement, estimating a point ahead of his charge. She moved her blade, holding to her left side in a backhanded grip. Her right hand drew back, chambered for a countering punch or block. The hope of conveying the visage of somewhat waiting to take the brunt of the charge was strong in her mind.

It was then, within the instant her stance was reached, that she warped forward, the faded, bluish lining of an afterimage marking the spot she had just left. In the near instant of her leaving her initial position, she set down into her marked spot. With success, the lancer would be within her arm's reach and moving closer, and she would have bypassed the lethal range of the lancer's spear. Upon arrival post-warp, her right arm thrust forward aimed towards the face of the lancer's shield. In the tightening of her fist, the effect of the gauntlet upon her right hand initiated.

The force of her then augmented strike, and the kinetic released from Bebenfaust set to take on the shield. Her weapon in her left hand was at the ready to intercept a sweep of the spear. Should the situation deteriorate, she had reserved her stamina for a second warp for a quick getaway.​

 

A clanging chime rang in a pleasing echo in Andrea's ears. The distinct sound of metal-on-metal contact indicated that Babenfaust had landed against its desired mark. The lancer stumbled back. Andrea's eyes took a brighter expression. Her mouth curled into a satisfied grin upon the visible confirmation: a dent, bored fist-deep into the shield at its center, distinguished where the gauntlet had struck the shield. It hadn't been quite the extent of damage as she had wished to come of a landed hit; a shattered shield would have done her much better. However, a dented shield on her opponent's end remained an accomplishment. If her punch had left a physical impression, there was reason to consider that the integrity of the shield within that region had been compromised, the metal face weakened, and possibly a layer of wood behind it splintered from the transfer of force.

Therein was Andrea's seeming opportunity. With the Lancer pull back from her strike, she could quickly follow up with a second attack. Another punch from Babenfaust. Perhaps even a puncturing impact from her blade could finish the work she had begun on the shield. Andrea prepared to move in for her next offensive.

Her decision came a hair too late; she had relished in the success of her previous hit for too long. Within that window, the Lancer's reeling had been made into a more veiled, and surprising tactic than the gunner would have expected from him. Before she could take a single step, another sharp puncture pushed through her layers, breaking skin, and piercing nearly halfway through her upper back; the previous wound dealt to her left side would only exacerbate the new one. But this was the sort of agony that Andrea had come to expect from battle. As a spite to the pain, she would continue the battle as best she could.

Working in a practically automatic response, her opening retaliation was to use her empty right hand to take hold of the spear's shaft. Between the efforts of a hard pull against the weapon and a stride forward with her right foot, she commenced the short, searing task of removing her back from the spear's prong. With only the most brief of pauses, she pivoted her feet, shifting her stance to face her back to the Lancer. Giving a second pull against the Lancer's spear, she took a backward stride. Her head would turn, looking over her shoulder, her eyes catching the dented space on the shield. Her striking force amplified by the effects of Sabre, and her Gunblade having remained held in a backhand grip, she trusted the end of the blade backward, towards the impression in the shield. ​

 

((OOC: I have some small qualms with the above post. But it seems that DW hasn't been around to address them; so I'll let any misgivings I have go, as they're likely trivial in the long run)).
​

Caught.

She saw it as her head cocked to her left side, clear enough through the edge of her eye. The face of shield turned away, facing out from lancer's body. The changed angle of her target resulted in her weapon meeting the metal face indirectly. The blow that she anticipated would have had enough force to pierce through the shield's defense ground and scraped against it along the blade in a screech. As the blade of her weapon released from its contact, so too was the shield being thrust forward. The impending pain would be all too real; clear path to a clean shot to the fresh wound left by the prong of the spear that would, if nothing else, lead to a harsh, stinging pain as it pressed into the inner flesh beneath Andrea's skin.

Through the effort of her previous attempt, and the response of the lancer, both Andrea and the lancer had maintained a remarkable hold on the spear in his right hand. Though she had pulled against it in twice within a timeframe seconds long, leaving, presumably, little room for recovery or adjustment, her opponent had budged little, if at all. Her own grip against the shaft of the spear, considered alongside the thrust of the shield, left Andrea in a limited range of motion if she hoped to keep him from sweeping with the polearm.

She couldn't compromise much from her right hand's holdings; not right away. A relatively blunt, spread out impact from the thin side of a shield would be preferable to taking any hit from any part of the spear. When the thrust of her blade missed its mark and cut along the face of the shield, Andrea made a small adjustment: she turned her body in another pivot to her left. Her arms would provide the crucial element to her desired effect. With her left arm she would push against the face of the shield as it punched forward. With her right hand, she would exert a pull against the lance in the hopes of pulling it and some length of the lancer's right arm to his left.

Executed properly, this movement would minimize the strike from the shield to a glance pass across Andrea's back. The path of the shield thrust redirected, catching more of the spear or the lancer's right arm in the process.

Andrea wouldn't plan on being at that point of convergence either. Risking it on the faith that her move would work, she would release her hold on the spear as her back came perpendicular to the face of the shield. Clenching the empty hand into a fist, she would attempt to complete her rotation, adding in a quick phase to place herself to the lancer's exposed left side. Reorienting her left hand to block what she could of the shield if he opted to pull it back she'd round her right fist into a Bebenfaust-enhanced punch into the side of the lancer's helmet. ​