5th Ritual of Detestation: False Gods

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

[ What's this, Prospero? A huge, 8 foot tall being stalking the streets openly, during the dark hour. Heavily armored, and very well armed, it hunts for all the enemies of humanity it can find. Including, perhaps, itself. The being growls, and the armor it bears buzzes in concert with it, searching for someone. Searching for something. Searching for you. ]

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[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

[ It doesn't matter much. Garviel draws as he launches himself forward, sweeping the chainsword across at waist height, intending to gut Lancer entirely. ]

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

[Garviel's target reads the swing and ducks down impossibly low, launching himself backwards, and forward one more time, retrieving his weapon and facing the giant once more.]

...Quite a blade you've got there.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

[ Garviel just steps in, swinging the heavy blade down in a slash to cleave Choochootrain from hip to shoulder, should it strike home. ]

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

[Fortunately, the cleaving attack missed.]

[Unfortunately (or perhaps unluckily) the swing was close enough in proximity to graze Lancer, even knocked back by his own weapon. Even a glancing blow in this case was impressive. His guts weren't in any danger of slipping out, there there was an impressive diagonal cut across his chest.]

[The spear, meanwhile, had seen better days. And just from one strike. He let out a low whistle of approval.]

Hell of a weapon indeed.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

Be silent and die! [ He tries to shoulder barge Cu Chulainn to the ground for a killing follow up with the chainsword. ]

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

[The problem with charging attacks is they're usually easy to read and react to accordingly. Lancer even managed to account for Garviel's inhuman reach and size, if barely.]

What, just because we're fighting means we can't discuss things at length? You sure are a boring guy.

[He lowered into a stance, preparing to lunge forward once more, calculating mentally a plethora of attacks, possible counterattacks, and choosing between them for the one least likely to eviscerate him.]

...Don't think I'll be visiting the afterlife again any time soon, either.

[And the blue rocket was loosed once more, closing the gap in an instant, spear flashing for the hand which held the sword.]