CAP: Breaking the Ice - Matthew Dunham vs Tyren Orca

As my arrow meets a mark that I am pleased with, I am met with excruciating pain in my neck. His spear has been shot right at me and I find myself bleeding. I feel the blood stream down into my shirt which is beginning to stain crimson. The cut is deep, but the spear scraped and left my body as intact as it could be from such an assault. This changes the game, now I find myself shaking...

---

I look at the now unarmed beast in front of me. He looks to me like a loose dog ready to bite, or a tiger ready to pounce. I smell my own fear as I draw yet another arrow from my knuckles. A loose dog that I need to put down. I think, a smirk would be apparent if it weren't for the pain. My face shows it, I don't hide it. The arrow flies and again I feel like life is flowing through me. The arrow sores through the air and whilst it does I make my feet work. The floor is dirt or sand, I can't tell which right now. There are very small rocks and pebbles littered somewhere, but that slips my mind too. I bite my lip, looking to where to arrow hits...

I missed. After all this success, this opponent is stopping me in my tracks. I can stand it, I can be strong. When he takes his crown, I will be humble. But he hasn't got his paws on it yet. The dog must still bite the bone.


[Attacks Matthew]
FoEBnJB|200+4000
4036 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
(Bow)

Tyren Total Damage: 17200+4000

Pain. Pain causes stiffness, and I feel it across my shoulders, back and upper arms. My neck feels numb and by back can't decide what to feel - whatever it is hurts. My vision begins to slur as my opponent moves, and I realize why I missed. I am practically nearly fainting.

---

There is no support for me in the crowd, as my family didn't want to see a second son get beaten up. My brother might be here, but I don't have the consciousness to look for him - never mind the time. He sprints and I hear his weapon rattle to a picking up. The sound makes my senses jolt, survival kicking in. The pain becomes irrelevant and I become reckless. Firing an arrow seems pointless, but I may as well try since there's no other kind of weapon available. In this time I search for the best point to shoot him at, which doesn't make a difference to my aim as my hands are shaking. I have dropped the arrows in my knuckles, so taking one from the quiver is necessary. I do so, and I let it loose at him with chance making the mark, not me.

I smile as faintly as possible, seeing that I have hit him in the thigh. But I fear that his next move will strike me down, perhaps fatally.

eFPQmgo9200+4000
4078 -- Arrow Deep in Thigh -- 8.5 damage
(Bow)

Tyren's Damage: 25.5200+4000

Fumbling around, I catch a glimpse of his eyes. I can see his desire to win fueling the fires within them. Mine would look in pain, as I can tell I look like I know where this is going. I have to keep trying, though. If he wants his crown, he has to fight for it. I've come this far, I can't just drop out now. Especially when winning is still a possibility.

All of a sudden, an assault on my right forearm is made, and just like that I feel completely different about the fight. That is my firing arm - the only thing keeping me from losing this fight. I yell, almost like a roar, and suddenly I am in pursuit of him.

---

I drop the bow, and the quiver slips from me. I grip the neck of my shirt and pull on it until it rips, blood dripping from it as it falls to the floor. There I am, just like him I have nothing to hide. I am smaller, so my muscles are thicker and more large looking. I glare at him, as though I was waiting for him to attack. Perhaps it is the arrows in either hand that are making him uneasy - or maybe he isn't uneasy at all. I can't tell, I'm running from the fear of defeat at the moment.

I run at him, ready to swipe that spear from being in my way, and ready to use these arrows as final securing items of a far away victory.

I stand there in disbelief. My attack was far too successful, so successful that I wonder whether I'm dead already, dreaming this reality. His fingers are not removed, that I am thankful for. I have a mercy about people, the likes of which I will likely fall to later on. I feel as though giving up would have been the worst decision, but the pain I'm encountering now is overwhelming.

[Attacks Matthew with arrow (melee - using Knife as a roll)]
IDP5xFQC200+2000
2192 -- Two Severed Fingers on Left Hand -- 9.0 damage
(Knife)

Tyren's Damage: 29
200+2000

The battle is about as intense as ever. To watch my guy duke it out with weapons against someone else, I've never felt more tense. I tried to find a seat somewhere near the bottom of the stands, but I don't understand why because every time his opponent I instinctively want to flinch and turn my head only to catch what happens a moment later. Each time, I see Matthew dig his spear into the other guy though, I feel myself grinning from ear to ear. He was doing well. Doing amazingly well. The feirceness and power that he puts behind his attacks is just simply amazing. I sure know how to pick em. Matthew... you are truely amazing!
The moment I hear him scream out in pain I jerk up from my seat, to get a better look at the arrow that has penetrated his thigh. The pain he lets everyone know he's in absolutely puts this horrible feeling deep within my gut. "Don't tap out.. keep it going. Keep it up, Matthew. Stay strong. Don't give in!" My words come out a little above a whisper allowing my neighbors to hear me, but they don't say anying.

Just like that, the next attack really has me worried. He barely makes a scratch on the other guy, and his opponent shows it, by coming in with the arrow and landing it deep within his fingers. Everyone can see it. The blood that forms around his fingers. I put a hand up to my face to keep myself from screaming out to him, but he finishes the battle. He lets the other guy feels his pain through his wrath and rage. The spear takes the man down quickly and Matthew throws himself on the guy again until someone's pulling him off. I'm out of my chair like lighting racing through the crowd of people. I want nothing more than to get down to Matthew the moment they declair the winner.

As realization dawns on me that I've just won the worst battle of my life I give up my struggle against the people pulling me away from Tyren, who has collapsed on the ground.
They let go of me so I pull my injured left arm away from their hands and clutch it to my chest with the arrow still stuck in it.

My eyes never leave my opponent because I'm worried he might spring up and lash out once more no matter whether the fight is over or not.
He doesn't though. His eyes are barely open while blood is pouring onto the dirt beneath him.
For a few seconds I don't dare to breath because I'm afraid I might have killed him. I don't even dare to blink.

The crowd screams and yells, but I cannot tell whether their screams are cheerful or angry and truth be told I don't care.

I can feel my own legs starting to shake, most likely from exhaustion and maybe fear. I really don't want to have killed him.
So I let myself drop to my knees ignoring the searing pain in my injured leg and shake the guy. "Don't you die. C'mon, open your eyes."
With my bare hands I try to keep his blood inside his neck by pressing down on the cuts I've inflicted.
I guess the guards thought I'm trying to finish him off so they pull me away again, this time throwing me to the ground, face down in the dirt and hold my hands behind my back. "Stay down, stay down!" They command while I cry out in pain.
"But he's bleeding out." I push up against them but don't get anywhere.
In my peripheral vision I can see heavy boots move in and finally the paramedics are taken care of him.
I'm sure it wasn't very long but it seemed like an eternity to me until they carry him out on a stretcher holding up some IV bag.
"Is he okay?" I press out when they finally let go off me.
"He's alive...no more bullshit, Hunnam, you hear me?" One of them pushes me slightly with his boot and I nod in confirmation.

I bring my hand forward to get a look at it. In horror I see the bleeding stumps that are left of my fingers. Both are barely attached anymore making the severed bones visible.
Instantly I feel my stomach turn and start dry heaving.
I'm in too much pain by now to refuse the paramedics help who are now filling in to take care of me.
"How are you? Can you hear me?"
With a face pale as a wall I press out. "Yeah. My fingers. He cut them off."
One palm is placed on my shoulder while they try to calm me down and get their supplies to me.
I'm starting to feel nauseous again and ready to pass out when my eyes briefly find the crowd, well that part that hasn't left yet to go home and go about their daily business. I search for my father, Kyanite, Gala, a friend but my vision blacks out so I close my eyes and scrunch up my face in pain when they wrap my hand and pack bundles of gauze around the arrows stuck in my leg and arm to keep them half steady for transportation.

The sound in my ears has become that of a waterfall, that's occasionally interrupted by words. Somewhere in there I hear them say that the need to pack my fingers in ice.
Right now I don't care what they do, I just want them to do it fast.

I race down the stairs, my feet taking me as quick as I can, but careful of my injuries that threaten to pull with every step and movement that I make. I move fast though, letting my casted hand be the leverage to the metal bars down to the arena. I try to ignore the crowds surprise to what's going on in the arena, how it has gotten out of control. The crowd is yelling out different things to Matthew and Tyren; some vulgar words as well as cheers. Though, I find myself getting more worried because the moment I get a full visual of the situation, I literally feel my heart and stomach drop. Immediately, I look to Matthew's opponent because the redness attracts my view first; to see that amount of blood around him, he looks dead. Even more so when I see Matthew try to attack him again and put his hands to his neck. I feel like he has finally lost it or maybe he was just trying to help? Two attendants move in front of me just as I try to reach the stairwell to the arena below.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you through. The medics need to tend the those guys first. PLease. TAke a seat and I'm sure they'll allow visitors later on." One of them gruffly tells me.

"Move.. I have to get down to him." I tell them as one with the gruff voice puts his hands out to try to get me to move back. I shake my head furiously when he tells me to move back again. "I need to get down there to him. He's my b... friend. I train with him." Still they keep their hands up. That's when I try to shove my way through putting my injured arm up in front of me cause that's the only one that would bend, but they push hard on my injury. Instantly, I'm hissing out in pain, and feel the stitches pull on the skin. They realize at the last moment what they've done. They release the hold on me and the one that had his hands on my arm pipes up.

"Wait. You fought the other day, didn't you? Mark was your opponent?" He finally figures out who I am, nodding. He turns to the other guy then back at me. I feel nothing but pure anger because they won't let me through but insists upon bringing up my fight instead of what's going on out there right now. "Tough fight. You doing alright, Miss Ruze?"

"I don't have time for this, please, just let me through. I need to get to Matthew." I tell them. They sense the urgency in my voice, the desperation and the death glare on my face even though I'm not staring directly at them. I watch from behind them as the healers begin filing all round Matthew and shouting orders. The other guy gets toted off on a stretched and I"m sure Matthew will be next. Finally, they release me and allow me passage to go down to see him. My arm throbs painfully the moment I reach the bottom of the stairs and run over to where they are tending to him. I catch some words about packing his fingers in ice and I can only assume that isn't good. Is that what happened? THey guy actually severed his fingers? What other injuries are they treating that's bad?

"Matthew? MAtthew, can you hear me?" I cry out at one moment while one of the men standing near takes me by the shoulders. I feel hysterical and terrified especially when he doesn't hear me yelling to him. My face grows stern, not allowing tears to come to the surface. I'm totally in shock watching them as the man trys to get my attention by saying my name and waving a hand in front of me. I can't concentrate on him though. I only watch, wide eyed, as they begin getting him onto a stretcher and begin to take him off. There's so much blood. Too much... and the arrows... I take a step after them when they get him up and my gaze suddenly turns to see Gala standing near to me. Her tiny frame among the cluster of giants. To see her standing there makes me wonder what's going on through her mind as well. If she is just as scared as I am to see what that guy had done to him. What happened in my fight seemed different to his. At least I was able to particially walk out before succumbing to the darkness. He can't even stand up. My gaze draws over to Gala.

"Gala... He'll be alright." I try to tell her, giving her a look of desperation before I turn to follow the men with Matthew in tow. I know what I said to Gala was for both of our comfort. He's too stuborn to be anything less than alright.