gss 004 • duty calls

Malik's gauntlets and vambraces rested in his horses saddles somewhere, and on his arms were gardbraces, much more protective than his other weapons, if the way he was able to wrench a cleaver from the grip of a bokoblin after being able to block the strike with his elbow said anything. Discarding it to the side, Malik gripped the much smaller monster's face in one of his massive hands, picking it up and easily flinging the monster into one of it's friend before turning to crush another one's face with a powerful strike.

His stance was measured and easy, he was agile and powerful as he needed. Weaving between attacks one second and laying down a barrage of knee strikes, elbow strikes, throws, kicks, sweeps and round houses the next. He moved on his feet as if gravity didn't exist for him and struck the enemy as if gravity had intensified to bring him down upon them.

And when it came to the much larger King Bulblin coming into the room, he was the same way, but as the fight edged on and he had to lose his measured fighting style, he became more animalistic. Striking and lashing out like a dragon defending it's young, a tiger on the hunt, a hawk in aerial battle, fighting like a wolf defending it's territory, he threw his weight around, threw cheapshots and rather than going for bones, he went for soft spots.

His agility and raw power behind his form obviously a way of life for him. His form of income for his family. His one way of defending himself. His one other talent beyond just a good cook.

deltra of gangnam style

A gentle soul, but one that knew how to defend itself. He stood on the battlefield, scythe gracefully twirling around him to snatch the Bokoblin behind the neck and pull forward, a swift decapitation. He... he didn't like doing this, but sometimes, you had to fight and sometimes things died. Taven, as agile and graceful as he was with that Scythe often had to take a breath and sometimes look at it as how good the blood spilt would be for the soil.

Soil was great for fertilization, and done right could allow grass to grow in seemingly barren lands, but that wasn't what he was thinking about right now. The gentle soul gave another swift twirl of the scythe before swiping it in front of him and using the other end to push a Bokoblin back, pulling the weapon back in to half haft and twirling it powerfully, hands grabbing the scythe as he allowed it to reach back out and slam into the bokoblin in front of him. Another swift death.

He'd prefer to keep it that way as he twirled the sharp weapons, years of handling a sickle having taught him exactly how to be wary of the deadly blade at the end.

deltra of gangnam style