Colosseum - Quarterfinal - Okor vs the Bandit

[Okor]

Chuckling as he rose to his feet, the Plague Marine ran his red eye over the foe, analyzing the minute details of her posture, her musculature, and most importantly, the oversized mallet rumbling in her ebony hands. Their stance was lax, indicative of a distinct lack of discipline. While normally this would be a boon, the fact that his horn had been broken off was a testament to their power. "No, seriously. What in Diablo's Fiery Fuck-pits is wrong with you?" Prompted the woman, hefting their hammer for another crushing blow. "Want a... List?" Joked the pestilential giant, swinging his oxidized weapon at her unarmoured thigh. They sprang up at the final moment, ungainly falling to the side as their hammer clattered to the cobblestones. Snarling, Okor stood, his blade lodged in the leg of a market stall. A string of expletives streamed from the bandit's painted mouth as she scrabbled across the cobblestones, dragging her hammer into one of the back alleys that suffused the arena. Tearing his trusted weapon from its prison of wood, he shambled after his elusive foe, the sound of her footsteps long gone. He snapped the spear shafts protruding from his torso as he mulled over recent events. Why would they run? This was the culmination of dozens of battles, a slaughter that had drawn hundreds, if not thousands to watch. Would they throw away all the glory, all the power they had garnered up to this point? Were all the people of this round cowards, despite their infinite power? How pa-

His silent haranguing of the entire Omniverse was interrupted as a door splintered to his left, a steel boot blowing it apart. The woman leveled an unfamiliar weapon at him, a manic grin plastering itself across her painted face matching the skull hanging on Okor's armoured hip. She screamed out a warcry, the meaning of which was unknown to Nurgle's Chosen: "Garbage Day, bitch!" An arc of crimson energy burnt through his corroded breastplate, incinerated the pallid flesh beneath, and scorched the stone wall behind him. He looked down at the charred crater in his chest, putrid black smoke rising from the hole where his heart once was.

There was a brief pause as the two stared at the vast anatomical damage that had been done. While Okor was curious to see how long it would take for his gifts to heal him, a reminder of Nurgle's pervasive touch, the Bandit was merely waiting for her opponent to collapse after her killing blow. To her surprise, the gangrenous giant propelled his malformed skull forward, cracking it against her comparatively fragile face, a spray of blood and bone rewarding him for his efforts as her nose broke under his assault. Thinking far quicker than the lethargic legionnaire could react, the raider rolled to the side, narrowly dodging a heavy fist that pulverized the door frame.

The warrior glared at him from a crude pair of iron sights, crackling coronas of energy arcing from their weapon. "Shot you through the damn heart. The underverse does it take to put you down?" They spat, blood streaming from the ruins of their nose, crimson staining the stark white warpaint. "Speaking from... experience, two high-explosive rockets at short range, amputation and... the removal of my jaw." Laughed Okor, lifting his bolter to the slowly regenerating chasm in his chest. "Shi-"

The howl of the bolter cut off the rest of her sentence, a shell borne aloft on flame screaming past her ear. "Fu-" She twisted past another death-dealing missile. "Omni dam-" A spray of dust and fragments pelted her from behind as another round detonated against the masonry. "Motherf-" She ducked underneath the wild swing of the marine, the stock of his bolter flying over the tangled hair atop her skull. "Assbu-" She clumsily leaped over a leg swipe, a hunk of rusted metal barely missing her cloth-clad calf.

The two paused for a moment, staring at the environmental devastation wrought by Okor's misguided attacks. "One eye's a bitch for depth perception, huh?" Joked the painted warrior, dried blood adorning her pale facade. His corroded gauntlet went to the blade on his hip. "It can be a... challenge at times." He admitted, beginning to draw his pestilent weapon free, murmuring dark benedictions under his toxic breath. Foul effluence ran along its length, as he swung it in a diagonal slash towards the foe's face.

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