Jump to content

The Arena: Bellosh vs. Firefoxx[closed]


Recommended Posts

(Edit: Just updating this slightly as I forgot to add a couple details...)

The day had come and gone, gray and cold as stone. That was not uncommon in the lands of Whitescar. The lands tended to rear creatures as tough as the very earth Whitescar was founded upon. Hard creatures, fit for battle and willing to pit their lives against death for gold and glory. None of the provinces inside this country yielded anything like those from Saarvergerg. The Saar welcomed combat, blood lust, and bitter battles. Mystics, rouges, pirates, all manner of scrapings of the earth were welcome to unsheathe weapons and bare fangs at each other in the open arenas of the Saar.

"Pretty evenin' for a battle eh?" The griffon patted the re-curve bow at this side fondly. "I reckon you'll get a test as good as any today partner." He squinted and looked west towards the faltering sun. it was fast slipping into the grey misty void, heralding another frozen night. "Against dragon hide this time!" He sucked in a short breath and settled his feathers. This made the chain mail covering the front half of his body jingle slightly.

Deadeye considered himself fortunate to have lined up this particular pairing. He would have a chance to test his crafted weaponry against a dragon! The beast's name was Craven. Both had been on the list of candidates for fights in the open arena and so the griffon had signed himself up against the only dragon enlisted. Why not? If he was going to test himself and his weapons, he might as well give it a go on the toughest hide around. There was also the small matter of a wager, should the dragon be interested. He would pose the question when they met face to face.

He walked through the wide archway leading into the arena grounds. There were many fighting pits inside the place. All suited for particular styles of fighting. There were some fights going on. He smirked as he strode by a pair of stallions having it out with sword and spear. One had landed a decent blow to the others head. It would be a knock out. If the stallion was lucky, he'd live.

The griffon moved on, the sounds of battle ringing in his ears causing his heart to beat a little faster. Soon he would be fighting tooth and claw as it were against a dragon! He hiked the round shield up further onto his shoulder. Perhaps it would withstand a blast of dragon fire? Having never tested it, one could only guess. He also kept a short sword thrust through the broad belt about his middle though he hoped he wouldn't end up close enough to Craven to have to resort to sword blows. He wouldn't start with these weapons at claw as his bow and arrows would take both claws to operate. It wasn't a sure thing that he would even be able to reach these armaments once the fight began.

"Now, where's the rascal at eh? Don't want to keep the beast waiting." Deadeye peered around, wondering where his opponent might be.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Sinkhole: that’s what the locals called the special arena made out of a massive stadium-sized sinkhole in the ground. Usually, it was resolved for only the most wildly anticipated matches where stupendous turnout was expected. The Sinkhole however was also the venue of choice for fights featuring winged combatants, as spectators wouldn’t have to crane their heads upwards so much. And unlike fragile building construction work, the hard rock the Sinkhole was made out of could withstand damage caused by any beast... including dragons

Once such dragon, a nasty brute named Craven, waited impatiently on the Sinkhole’s rough floor below. Depending on one’s point of view, he was either a miniature adult or an oversized adolescent, for Craven was twice the size of the typical fire dark of his age. With his body a perfect combination of bulkiness and leanness, Craven would be both strong and fast above the battlefield.

Craven’s plan to defeat his griffon opponent was brutishly simple; breath lots of fire and never keep still. Few things could counter the scolding flames of a dragon, and even armor that prevented instantaneous incineration would not prevent users from slowly roasting away thanks to sheer temperatures alone. A dragon’s hide on the other hand was not as pathetically vulnerable; its ability to render serpents nearly impregnable is so infamous that the most renowned caribou warriors don’t think of using anything else for armor other than dragon scales.

Aerial maneuverability was all the griffon warrior had going for him, Craven deemed, which was why the beast planned to relentlessly go on the attack with his flames of death. Nobody ever praised the coward forced to helplessly flee. If somehow the winged hybrid freak escaped Craven’s fire-breath and got too close for comfort, a swift tail whip would teach that bird a lesson or two he’d never forget!

“WHERE ARE YOU, LITTLE BIRD?” the cocky dragon loudly taunted so every caribou in attendance to hear; “TIME TO COME OUT, AND PLAY!The crowd must always view Craven as the dominant fighter, no matter the cost. Otherwise, he wouldn't be that worthy of a dragon. And Craven had no other purpose for being here other than proving himself the heir to the fear-inspiring legacy of dragonkind.

Link to comment
Share on other sites


Words such as these were just what was needed to begin to work up the crowd. Though the sink hole was not full to the brim with spectators, it was by no means a sparse attendance. Caribou, ponies, and an odd assortment of other creatures cheered the mighty dragon as he bellowed out his challenge. The words were also heard by the griffon.

"Sounds like that's our cue, eh beauty?" Deadeye took his bow from its resting position on his back and stopped to sight down the stave. "I put a lot of hard won time into makin' you just right. I hope you serve me well today my darlin'!" He shifted the leather strap across his middle onto which his quiver full of red and black flighted arrows was slung. They were tipped with various types of metal as Deadeye did not know if perhaps the dragon he was facing had a hide that could be penetrated by one of them.

Deadeye carried on towards the sinkhole, never speeding up his pace. His mind however raced. He had chosen to fight a dragon in open combat. True, the griffon had always been something of a thrill seeker, welcoming a challenge that could end up with himself injured or worse. But this was different, it really could end in something worse. The stakes were high as this fight came affixed with a prize for the winner. How else could those who oversaw the arena get fighters willing to pit themselves against dragons? A sack of gems and gold to the winner. Fee paid by those who had come as spectators covered the cost of matches with stakes attached. A trip to the hospital, or perhaps local cemetery for the looser.

"Well, time to get this wagon rollin'! Yee haw!" His vast wings opened and pumped swiftly upwards, carrying him over the short grandstand surrounding the sunken pit.

"An' here I was, thinkin' this a was a fight to the death! If all yer interested in is playin' I could 'ave brought some mice for you to chase, snake!" The brazen sound of challenge dripped from the griffon's shout as it carried over the crowd towards Craven. He dropped the sword and shield as he made his way over the sinkhole on slow beating wings. He eyed the beast he would fight.

"He looks fit enough to char me to bits I reckon..." Deadeye muttered to himself as he hovered over the arena. Speed and accuracy of flight and shaft were the only things that would see him as victor of this battle. The dragon had size, strength, and stamina on his side. But Deadeye was a son of the open plains and desert lands. He wouldn't go down easy!

The sun was fast sinking below the horizon as caribou who worked the sinkhole moved about, setting fire to the torches that served to light the area. Along with this a sizable fire was set to blaze in the center of the sinkhole to add light for the spectators to view the combat by. A chill breeze ran from the nearby sea to gutter the flaming torches. The griffon fitted a shaft to the string of his bow and waited, soon everything would also be lit up with dragon fire. His muscles tensed as he waited for the dragon to meet him in combat!

"Well, let's git this over with ya rascally varmit!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, it was about time the little cat-bird Deadeye showed up. Craven found the sight of his opponent very amusing; a griffon equipped with cheap chainmail and a cowardly bow. Thus did the dragon surmise that despite Deadeye’s melee weapons, he would have spent the most time learning the bow, for that weapon was little more than a useless dead weight unless one spent time mastering it. And someone who wasted time with archery would not be predisposed to get in close to the target. Or so Craven assumed anyway.

In the meantime, the proud fire drake brushed off Deadeye’s rodent-infested taunt. “HA HA HA HA HAH…” Craven’s cruel, deep-throated laugh echoed throughout the Sinkhole; “I’LL GLADLY SHOW YOU A TASTE OF DEATH, IF THAT IS YOUR DESIRE.” To intimidate the griffon further and rile up the crowd, the dragon spread out his wings far and wide, providing the illusion of an even larger monster. “THEN YOU WILL ALL SEE THE MENACE... OF A TRUE DRAGON!!!!!

Craven’s boasting may or may not have been empty words, but they certainly produced the proper effect. Jeers and boos filled the arena, the caribou spectators worked up into a frenzy. It was not everyday a dragon, a being that has long plagued Whitescar, showed up to do battle in the viking arenas. Especially one so bold and brazen as to carry himself as a villain. For what it was worth, the crowd were sold on the reptilian heel’s story, although many would watch with a sort of twisted fascination wondering how some unknown griffon hotshot could carry the day.

Feeling energized by the desire to put both his foe and the hostile crowd in their pathetic place, the dragon gladly accepted the offer to get the duel over with. Taking advantage of Deadeye’s unwillingness to take the first shot, Craven used his already stretched-out wings to quickly take off from the ground. The massive blaze at the battlefield’s center cast smoke that partially obscured the line of sight between Craven and Deadeye, resolving the winged serpent to provide his own brand of “destructive lighting.” With a mighty roar, the winged serpent breathed his first jet of lethal flames straight at the griffon archer!!!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Stars had begun to glitter brightly in the clear icy skies. The beauty of the constellations in all their splendor clashed harshly with the duel that had begun below them in the Sinkhole.


The words boomed around the sunken arena, making the feathers at the back of Deadeye's neck stand on end. He swallowed hard, nerving himself for what was to come. Truly he had picked a deadly beast to bandy shots with. The massive wings of the beast carried him swiftly upwards to meet the griffon in combat. Smoke swirled about, mixed with bits of ash and dust. The griffon knew what was to come, his wings coming into swift action to carry him upwards and to the side. Though he could not fully see the fire-breather, he knew where Craven was. It was as if the air itself was electric with the evil pulse of the hulking beast.

For now, the griffon kept his mouth shut. No need to give away his location by throwing useless words to the winds. The crowd was jeering and cheering to an extent that his words would not carry to them or to his foe.


Deadeye knew it would be coming soon, the fire drake's deadly breath. The unmistakable belching roar came to his ear a split second before the flames issued forth. They cut through the smoke in the general direction of the griffon. It would have been the exact direction had he not maneuvered upwards and to the side just before the fiery blast was issued. As it were, Deadeye winced as hot flame seared the tuft of fur at the end of his tail.

"Any closer and I'm a goner..." He muttered to himself as he quickly took up a return fire position. His re-curve stretched taught for a split second before he loosed the first of his arrows. Deadeye was unsure of the weakness in this beast. He had heard tales of dragon soft spots, chinks in their armor plating, possibly their eyes, but it would be a shot in the dark to get the right spot on this beast. For now he would fire shots, draw the beast's full attention and then put his plan into action! He could get himself into a ready position to use the bow very quickly. This was not his first rodeo.

"YEE HAW!" The cry was flushed with adrenaline as he loosed the shot, aiming for what he hoped would be the head region on the dragon. The shaft was composed of a hollow metal tube, tipped with iron infused with silver. It was not the hardest metal in the quiver but he had to start somewhere. For now it would be sting and fly as best he could manage. He swung down hard to the right, aiming quickly and loosing another two shots towards the neck and head region of the beast. Since he did not know of any weaknesses in the dragon it wouldn't do any good to aim for longer. Best to pepper him for now, if possible.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

One unpleasant fact about being a dragon was how relatively speaking, they were far easier targets to hit than griffons or ponies. Craven rediscovered this as one arrow, out of Deadeye’s three, hit its mark. The projectile struck the bottom of the beast’s neck, lodging itself in a thinly scaled area compared to the rest of his body. But although Craven registered a brief moment of pain, and grunted as the arrow hit, there was little that a puny shaft could do against such a large beast. Deadeye would have needed a large ballista to penetrate Craven’s neck enough to do significant bodily damage.

Undeterred by what amounted to an oversized splinter, Craven kept to his plan of breathing flames everywhere. The winged serpent did not dare fly straight at the griffon yet, instead flying in an evasive circular pattern while spitting out fire blasts in Deadeye’s general direction. Craven however did not bother aiming straight at his foe, since he already proved himself capable of dodging the flaming jets. Rather, the fire drake burned the arena floor beneath, leaving behind plumes of roaring fire and smoke. As dragonfire did not extinguish easily, it would keep on burning until no more oxygen was left to keep it fueled.

The flames engulfing the Sinkhole floor swiftly transformed the entire area into a raging furnace, with temperatures already skyrocketing way past 100°C. With all that fire came ember-laden smoke too, obscuring more and more of the battlefield. Here was the twisted genius of Craven’s strategy. Having lived in the volcanic confines of the Dragon Peaks for much of his life, the dragon was adapted to flying in of the most inhospitable conditions known to all. His draconic eyes and lungs were accustomed to the ravages of ash, and he found it pitifully easy to smell the lone griffon through all the smoke. That was what made dragons stronger than the rest of those pathetic creatures with their fancy “civilizations.”

Deadeye on the other hand... griffons like him possessed no such biological adaptations. The sheer heat produced by the fires below may not be outright incinerating him, but he was slowly being roasted alive, as if the half-bird himself was being prepared in an oven as the main course. Additionally, the smoke would be doing a number on Deadeye’s respiratory system, causing him to constantly cough out snoot and feel fainter from oxygen deprivation. Adding final insult to injury, the archer’s eyes would be stung by the embers in the air, torturing them to the point that he’d no longer be able to see clearly.

It was a testament to their hardy nature that the caribou onlookers stayed in this hellish arena, booing Craven for his cheap tactics. A brave dragon would accept risk and honorably attack his foe head-on, they all taunted, instead of playing things safe and staying out of range. But Craven was not here to prove the quality of his honor; he fought only to demonstrate that anyone who dared oppose the fire serpent would undoubtedly be signing their death wish. And once the dragon was absolutely sure that Deadeye couldn’t effectively fight back, Craven planned on delivering the final blow to end this short-lived match.

Link to comment
Share on other sites


"This rattler ain't goin' down easy!" The griffon managed to cough out the words to himself as he pumped his wings as furiously as he could. He had to get out of the range of all this soot and fire. Being half bird meant extra susceptibility to high temperatures. Sweat poured from his hide and he coughed again, trying to keep a vigilance towards the dragon's location and next move. It seemed Craven had taken to turning the Sinkhole into something that reflected his hellish home in Dragon Peaks. If Deadeye had room to think of something aside from self preservation he might have wondered how the crowd remained at all. Even though the stands were well above the floor of the place, the rising heat would quickly become intolerable. Unless...

"Ha!" Deadeye had his idea. If he had a chance at all in this fight it would not be to stick more arrows between the dragon's thickly laid scale armor. For the moment, he had to get Craven to focus his flame upwards.


Another hot blast shot upwards. Deadeye again managed to avoid the majority of the blast though his extremities had taken a few burns and some of his feathers had been charred. He put all of his efforts into flying higher. The air was less hot and more clear the further from the floor of the Sinkhole he got. All he had to do was stay within the boundary lines. Now he was up high enough that he could see the tall poles that marked the height limits for the Sinkhole. Soon he would reach the top of the poles and unless he wanted to bow out of the match he would not go any higher than the tops of those poles.

"I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE LITTLE CAT-BIRD!" The roar of the dragon caused Deadeye's stomach to drop. There was a good chance he would not be leaving this fight alive. "IT'S TIME TO END THIS!!!" Deadeye heard the rush of wind under the drake's wings as he moved himself upwards. The griffon watched the hulking form materialize from the smoke cloud, measuring when to make his move.

"Belly up to the bar ya rattler!" The griffon mocked his foe, shooting another few arrows in his direction. One found its mark, under a plate scale on the beast's snout. As before, Deadeye could see the arrows did not injure as much as irritate the red monster. The air was much more clear at this height from the Sinkhole floor, giving the griffon enough breathing room to fly hard and fast. His eyes too had cleared somewhat, though they still burned and teared.

"Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with those shots could ya snake?" Deadeye taunted the beast, trying to work him into venting his fury thoroughly. He began to dodge fiery blasts, always keeping out of range of claws and fangs. Only his smaller size made him maneuverable enough to avoid the onslaught of fire the ensued at that point. Once he was sure the dragon was locked onto his target enough to follow him, Deadeye decided to risk his move.

"Here goes nothin' darlin'! I sure hope those flames have died down." He pitched into a steep drop, the dragon hot on his heels...literally. Another hot blast came, searing Deadeye's feet. If it had been any closer the blast would have killed him. He dropped faster, his body pulled into the most aerodynamic form he could manage.


"Yep, sure enough is!" The flames near the bottom had indeed damped down, allowing Deadeye to come extremely close to the sandy bottom. He opened his wings and pulled up hard and fast, narrowly escaping a nose dive at break neck speed. It was too fast for the dragon. Craven was so bent on stamping out the griffon that he had for the moment lost track of all else. The beast crashed into the floor of the arena just as he realized how close to the ground he was. The tremor shook the Sinkhole and caused a gasp to escape the crowd. The blow did not kill the drake, but ended the fight for the day.

Deadeye flew to the rim of the Sinkhole, landing awkwardly near the remnants of the crowd. Many had gone their way, not wishing to stay so near an area lit by dragon fire. His burned feet, along with the other heat related injuries he sustained allowed his to stay conscious just long enough to be pronounced the winner of the match!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

At last, the crucial moment was at hand. Deadeye, no longer able to stand the heat, began an upward retreat towards more hospitable airspace. If only he had done this earlier; foolishly, the griffon wasted too much time earlier fruitlessly shooting arrows at Craven while the dragon had his way with the Sinkhole floor. Now that Craven got his chance to create a hellish inferno, the massive amount of smoke had by this point sealed Deadeye’s fate, even if he wasn’t aware of it yet.


The archer may have been a mobile creature, but hovering in place while firing, quickly dodging, then halting to aim and fire again before the next fireblast came meant that he did not maintain any momentum. Without built-up speed on his side, the only way Deadeye could fly upwards now was by furiously flapping his wings. Of course, it proved difficult for the eagle-lion to exhert the necessary strength for this feat because of ceaseless wheezing. Having inhaled too much smoke, Deadeye only grew weaker and weaker. His only saving grace was the strong thermals generated by the fires, allowing the griffon to slowly float upwards.


However, the thermals also worked to Craven’s advantage. The dragon furthermore had speed on his side, having never stopped once throughout his rampage to hover in place. Therefore he was able to build up more and more velocity, and as any flying being knows, high speed allows for swift conversion into high altitude. Craven remembered this cardinal rule of flight, which he planned on exploiting to the fullest.


The smoke prevented Craven from seeing he opponent, but he could definitely smell Deadeye trying to go higher. From this point forward, the fire serpent entered predator mode. A proper hunter caught its quarry not by attacking head-on, or by proclaiming its arrival for all to hear, but by the use of stealth. Craven understood more than anything else that if he ever wanted to lay waste to warriors, he could never provide a fair and proper fight to any foe. Indeed, a dragon’s true secret, just like any other predator, was to catch a victim unawares before they ever got the opportunity to defend themselves, or run away. Dishonorable, but ruthlessly effective.


Craven therefore leveled out his enormous wings and tilted himself upwards. To maintain perfect stealth, the dragon silently glided, letting the powerful fire-fueled updrafts lift him higher. Not a sound did the reptilian hunter utter as he let his keen nose guide him through the ash towards Deadeye. Thanks to the griffon’s utterly weakened condition, Craven found it trivial to close the distance and avoid detection while doing so.


It was here where Craven launched his final strike. Deadeye didn’t spot the dragon until with seemingly no warning, a set of sharp jaws enveloped him. The dragon managed to catch the griffon in his mouth! To the credit of Deadeye’s armor, it prevented Craven’s fangs from piercing into his soft flesh. Nonetheless, the archer screamed out of the sheer pain inflicted by the draconic teeth, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Nearly instantly after getting caught, Deadeye’s feathers boiled, as the dragon warmed up the last fireblast that would put an end to this fight... and maybe even the little bird too. Only one realistic option for Deadeye remained:




A plea for surrender! Ultimate success!!! Craven was a smart enough dragon not to taint his victory with a unnecessary killing blow, so he did the kind deed and spat Deadeye out of his mouth towards the Sinkhole walls. The scaled monster cared not for his opponent’s injuries, assuming that he’d survive this ordeal. All that mattered was that the world finally learned that Craven, soon to be the greatest of all dragons, was not to be trifled with!


“KNOW THIS, CARIBOU!” Craven flew up to the top of the Sinkhole to loudly celebrate his vanquishing of Deadeye; “ANY WHO DARE STAND AGAINST ME WILL MEET THE SAME HUMILIATING FATE AS THIS LITTLE BIRD! NOTHING SHALL STOP ME FROM PILLAGING AND BURNING AS I PLEASE! FOR I AM A TRUE DRAGON; DESTINED TO LEAD MY KIND BACK... TO GREATNESS!!! A plume of flame erupted from Craven’s mouth as he finished his “speech”. Today was a good day for him beyond all doubt... and a horrid occasion for everyone else who objected to Craven’s fiery vision of the future.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The fight was very well done by both sides, but after a discussion, the judges have chosen...CRAVEN THE DRAGON as the winner! However, FF is such a good poster and the character is so good that we can't wait to see him get into more fights! Congratulations Craven!

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...