A Duel Of Honor

[Kardel 1054]

 

The old pale dwarf stepped onto the square, the crowd amassed around him cheering, yelling out illegible things in both dwarven and common. Some fly blue and silver flags, others fly banners of green and white. Kardel had prepared himself. He had openly defied Vorstag, challenging him to Krazdran'anart, a battle of honor. He called the Thane corrupt, and mocked his old kingship, yelling in outrage about how the elections were sham, and that he had risen to kingship through vile means.

 

 

Now he stood in the middle of the Kal'Agnar square, wearing a large, thick leather belt studded with iron and a kilt of silver and blue. His left side he covered in silver runes, while his right in blue runes. His face was painted; on the left silver, and on the right blue. His hair, braided and colored the same colors, with braids of lapis hanging from them. He stood ready for duel.

 

Kardel had been training for days, honing his arm muscles and exercising. He had readied himself for this duel of honor, and now, his opponent stood before him. The other dwarf was much younger, about half of the old dwarf's age. He donned a blue kilt and wore an olive branch wreath. His arms were tattooed with green swirls, and half of his face was painted green. His red beard swayed in the wind, as he flexed for the Ireheart supporters.

 

 

No taunting took place. This was a duel of honor, not a savage fight. No weapons were to be used, this was purely a duel of physical strength; strength granted by the Brathmordakin. Kardel had called Vorstag a Thrumm'dor, a corrupt lord, and had challenged him in the face of the Brathmordakin to prove whether he was corrupt or was pure.

 

The two dwarves neared each other, lowering their heads like bulls about to rear at one another. As they readied to fight, seven priests emerged from the crowd, dressed in golden masks and robes, one bearing the a standard depicting the moon and a sword. From the opposite side, another 7 priests emerged, cloaked in green and silver, holding large books, their beards long and braided complexly. These were priests of Ogradhad and Dungrimn, the chosen Gods to watch over the duel.

 

 

From the middle, another figure stepped forth. This figure wore a very intricate mask, wearing a crown of precious jewels and a golden chainmail hauberk, with golden plate. Bearing a staff made of pure ivory, topped with a carbarum blade in the shape of a sun disk, the Prophet Militant spoke, his voice ringing solemn through the square.

 

"En dis daeh, Kardel o' Clan Irongut as challenged Vorstag o' Clan Oire'eart ta un duel o' 'onor under da bruthmurdakin, un pain' o' provin' da Vorstag be corrupt! Unleh Ogradhad knous da outcome o' dis battle, an' tr'ough da devices o' Dungrimn s'all dis revelation be made ta us, fer Dungrimn 'as given da strengt' ta da dorf w'o 'as eht roight ta settle dis quarell unce an' for oll!" 

 

The whole crowd cheered, yelling 'Dungrimn' or 'Ogradhad', as the Prohpet Militant slammed his staff onto the ground, the whole cloud ceasing their roar instantly as the sound of ivory against stone rang off the mountains of the Kazadrin valley, seemingly ubiquitous. The two groups of priests then raised their palms forth, holding them as if saying halt.

 

And the priests of Dungrimn spoke, in unison: "May Dungrimn from da muun ehtself deliver da strengf ta da most rig'teous dwed!"

 

And the priests of Ograhdad chanted, in harmony: "May Ogradhad bless os wif da knouledge ta acknowledge da most rig'teous dwed!

 

The two dwarves slammed their fists onto their chests, roaring at each other loudly like animals about to lunge at their rivals, as a gong sounded, announcing the beggining of the duel.

 

 

Kardel was the first to attack. As the two dwarves circled eachother, their fists up, the older, slightly taller dwarf lunged forth, savagely thrusting a punch full of rage at Vorstag. As this was unexpected, the younger dwarf was his square in the stomach, but he did not yield. The younger and more muscular dwarf grabbed the pale one's wrist, and tried to stagger him off his feet.

 

Kardel would have none of this, and grabbed Vorstag's own fist, interlocking them in a struggle to get free. Vorstag used his brute force to try and unlock the hold, and it succeeded, as Kardel's own hold gave away, but the old dwarf was not so slow. Whilst Vorstag was pushing and pulling to dismantle the lock, Kardel let go, staggering Vorstag off balance, and grabbed the younger dwarf, delivering a series of punches whrever he could land them.

 

It seemed over for Vorstag as the Irongut supporters yelled and cheered! The old dwarf was seemingly coming on top, but simple strength was not going to subdue the Grand Marshal of the Dwarven Legion. With incredible skill, Vortstag timed his blocks perfectly, blocking two of Kardel's hits and grabbing his fists, opening his arms wide to reveal the pale dwarf's chest.

 

Vorstag had him. He headbutted Kardel straight in the center-mass, as the old dwarf staggered backwards, the Irehearts picking up their cheer now, as Vorstag delivered two well placed punches on the Irongut's chest. Everytime Kardel was about to deliver a punch, Vorstag would neutralize it by hitting the center mass and stopping Kardel from turning his torso to deliver the hooks he often tried to land. It was clear Vorstag was not fighting to win; he was fighting not to hurt the old Dwarf.

 

Eventually, stamina took its toll as Kardel started getting tired. A couple of punches were exchanged, but the majority was simply pushed away by Vorstag. Crystalline beads of sweat dripped down the old dwarf's cheeks and onto his beard, as he raised his arms over his head, opening his palms; Vorstag had won.

 

Both, Irehearts and Ironguts cheered, as Kardel beat his chest, and bowed to Vorstag, which nodded back to him. In his deep, ominous voice, the Alchemist spoke loud and clear.

 

"The Bruthmurdakehn 'ave spoken! Vorstag. . .ah accept yer!"

 

The crowd cheered and roared, as the taller dwarf embraced the Thane, taking his hand and clasping it, raising them both into the air in victory.

 

Today, Vorstag Ireheart had proved his worth through tradition. The Brathmordakin have spoken; Vorstag was pure!

[JVQ 1719]

 

Vorstag crowed not in his triumph, no gaiety. He wiped the sweat

from his brow, looking slowly up to Kardel he placed his fist to his chest.

 

Spitting out blood to the floor

 

"Khronammoruk Velukrumm"

 

He orated, reaching his free arm to shake that of Kardel's.

[Demotheus 651]

Scylla giggles as she watches the midgets fight.

 

Something just seems so hilarious about this situation.

[James 425]

Was a gud foight, 'onor tu da victor 'n long live da Dwarves!

 

((Kardel you bring dishonor to da famiry))

[Glyc 234]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.