Lyulf v Roland

16:50] Roland Hartz exclaims, "Aha!"
[16:50] Roland Hartz says, "New I'd catch one."
[16:50] Lyulf Yayle asks, "Eh?"
[16:56] Roland was simply leaning on the poll, yawning, enjoying the evening. Until to his surprise.. An Achyonite comes out! How, unlucky of them. Very much so. Leaning upright, he and his glistening abs tapped the teenagers shoulder.

"Hey, Kid... Or should I consider you, a proud soldier of Achyon.. Either way, pay up a toll of five-hundred crowns."

Such was asked of him by the lightbringer. To toll any and all beings garbed in the military suits of Barsburg. Such was the job of being a disposable merc.

"I don't gotta say what happens if ya don't now, do I?"
(Roland Hartz)
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[17:04] Lyulf's cerulean gaze simply looked Roland up and down for a minute. Who the hell was this? A straw-hat, half of a shirt, some leggings? Was this some sort of Bandit? Well, he supposed it didn't matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. They'd decided to try and toll him! Ironic honestly, considering the years of tolls collected by his own City in this region.

His lips pulled backwards into a smirk. This was going to be a lot more of an exciting outing than he'd expected! "I don't pay tolls to vagabonds or sell-swords. However, I do offer something for filth-like you." As he spoke the young man's hands flashed to his hip! The sound of the Justicar sliding forth from it's holster echoed through the quiet clearing. As it came up to level with Roland they could clearly see the soft glow of plasmic-charges within the weapon.

The sound of the weapon firing was hard to miss! What was harder was the barking shout of the young soldier of Achyon. "I'm gonna teach you to fuckin' pick your employers better!" Seems the young man wasn't easily cowed by the threat of violence! In fact they seemed all to eager to BEGIN the battle!
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[17:10] Roland blinked once, before his smile turned into a smirk. Lyulf, was definitely the kind of kid he could damn sure hang out with. Under different conditions, of course. But, this was simply about money and slaying demons. That was his goal, and cause to fight.

"Keheh… Tsk, tsk... Dumbass kid, attackin' me. But I like ya. I'll try not to hurt ya too bad."

As the gun was fired, and the bullet began travelling its path towards the straw hat manhe reached for the hilt of Durendel, and within the next half of a second, the bullet was split in two. And a slash of yellow starlight was sent flying towards the teen.

Nauseating toxins befell his golden blade, making it thrum with deadly poisonous power The cosmos fell around his form, being wrapped in his venomous aura. And, he charged into the fight.
(Roland Hartz)
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[17:16] {Lost Aggressive RPB against Roland Hartz}
[17:16] ** Roland Hartz has inflicted an injury upon Lyulf Yayle. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "") **
[17:28] The part about not hurting him too bad? Was an obvious, and blatant lie. Roland, was a man who hurt people because he was either paid, he wanted to, or he had too. Sometimes, he even likes it. And that was quite clear in this battle the duo were indulged in.

The slash of starlight in the beginning of the battle, could be easily avoided. Though after he followed up. Extreme, blitzing speed. There was probably a point where they couldn't keep up with him. Roland sped across the ground, cutting away at the teenager before him.

Yet they did put up a good fight. Blasting the straw hatted man away with a spear of pure plasma, though he would simply grab at it and throw it away. As if it were nothing. Hunkering down low, the energies of the cosmos harnessed within him. The ground, the earth, gave him strength.

And in the next instance, he was in Lyulf's personal space. Then they could notice the foot that was implanted to there stomach.

Then they were sent flying.

Through multiple trees, in fact. At the end of their ordeal they would definitely have more than a few broken ribs. Among all the destruction and debris, that would be their chance to escape. "Tsk... Like ya guts, kid. Oh, and when ya go to look your wounds, say hi to Niffty and Leon for me. Actually, tell Leon... I'm coming for his arm."
(Roland Hartz)
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[17:34] He cut the plasma in two? Lyulf tilted his head as he watched the Mercenary's magics come to life. It wasn't quite like looking at Alexander but he knew that they'd be a threat. He could feel the heat of the cosmos from where he stood and the stench of waste hinted towards the man's toxic nature.

"Feelin' not mutual; I'm about to put you in the fuckin' dirt!"

The shout was the signs for things to burst into battle fully. His own Industrial magic coming to bear as a sheen of raw plasma began to radiate off his frame. The Justicar glowed a bright purple as his magic pushed itself into the weapon. Over-charging the plasma-caster!

His fingers came to his chest and gripped three throwing knives. One for each finger between his Knuckles. He didn't know the man but just based on his magics? His age? This wouldn't be some simple skirmish. He'd have to put his best foot-forwards!

However, it started to go wrong almost immediately as the Merc's skill came to light. Dodging about the field quickly to avoid his foe's sword-cuts! Where his plasma-launched at the man those thick chains of cold-iron acted in defense. Lashing outwards whenever they got close.

For a time it worked; for a time it even looked as if he could take the momentum into his favor. That is until in a flash the mercenary had gotten right in his face. The kick that followed knocked the air out of him and sent him crashing through the underbrush. The sound of him breaking through trees no doubt echoed through out the forest!

When he finally bounced off a stout stone and rolled back ot his feet he could feel his ribs. A few were cracked; not good! The last thing he needed was to puncture a lung fighting some mercenary. When they delivered a message for him to give?

The youth spat on the ground blood covering the dirt. "Ain't no one's fuckin' messenger-boy. In fact I've got one for YOU!" His arm shot up; index finger extended. "Next time we meet I'm going to break you over my fuckin' knee!" His hand then shifted to his chest; pulling free a handful of smoke-grenades and flashbangs. Tossing them straight at Roland as a distraction!

Then the youth turned and threw his chains to the branches! Slinging away from the fighting zone with rapid speed! They'd live to fight another day this time around.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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