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Meliadol broke the stalemate first, slipping in from the right, falcata leading with a vicious stab to the portly gut of the blacksmith's. Surprisingly Grimsaw accepted the blow, stepping into it and countering with a back handed slap that stunned Meliadol long enough for the hammer to follow, clipping his shoulder and forcing the Thief to scramble back.
The two flashing HP bars in his HUD revealed the grim truth of the matter. Meliadol had lost more HP in the exchange than Grimsaw by a fairly large margin. He couldn't keep taking trades like that. Meliadol tried a few more tentative passes, short, measured exchanges of hammer and falcata, and as he did so, he began to see purpose in the blacksmith's style.
Just normal attacks, deliberately trading HP because the large upfront damage of the slower war hammer outclassed the quick falcata in skirmishing. It wasn't as if Meliadol was experienced enough fighting players to know how to counter such a strategy. But he did know enough to see that no skills were being used. The blacksmith was ignoring his one major advantage from level-syncing to fight him on equal terms…
Grimsaw was deliberately handicapping himself.
Meliadol's hand tightened on the handle of his falcata. He didn't mind losing as long as it was done with respect, but in his eyes there was nothing respectful about challenging someone to a fight and then toying with them.
The blacksmith wasn't taking him seriously.
He'd make Grimsaw regret doing that. Or at least that was the plan, which was easier said than done. Early Thief levels lacked a lot of combat oriented skills, instead focusing on things like stealing, picking locks, and sneaking.
In fact, the only skills he had was Electric Needle Trap, Stab, and Hamstring. Stab was a thief normal attack with a moderate cooldown that would become modified into Backstab when attacking from behind, which resulted in a major damage boost, and Hamstring was just a slow that activated when attacking an opponent's legs. That left the trap, which Bast had shown to only be effective when either disguising their placement or using them as a mix-up in a string of other skills — which he didn't have yet.
Well shit.
Still, he had to do something. The opportunity to win or at least make it even was slipping further and further. One had to take a risk to find opportunity. Sometimes a need could create magic from nothing.
He had an idea.
Meliadol broke into a run, keeping Grimsaw parallel, circling the blacksmith. The man followed his movements, both hands firmly on his war hammer, ready to attack or defend as needed. The circle tightened.
Momentum and motion, this was key to what Meliadol had in mind.
Suddenly he change direction, cutting in at a sharp angle, and Grimsaw met him squarely, not fooled in the slightest. Meliadol changed direction again, falling to his stomach as the hammer went whizzing overhead.
As he had before, Grimsaw barreled down on him, attempting to use his superior mass in close quarters, but Meliadol was already moving, rolling back and finally playing his final card. He unequipped his scarf, throwing it at the blacksmith's face in a sweeping motion.
Grimsaw reacted impossibly fast, batting aside the scarf, his hammer already raised, but Meliadol was just a step faster, using the brief opportunity to dive in the blind-spot between the forge master's legs. His falcata flashed twice, but it was Meliadol's turn to be surprised as somehow the forgemaster twisted his body, dropping to one knee, barely avoiding the strike. Overbalanced, Meliadol could do little as Grimsaw let gravity pull the hammer handle down in his grip before thrusting the head of the hammer out like a knife to slam into the thief's chest.
Wham!
Once again he was sent flying, and Grimsaw would give him no reprieve, pushing himself to his feet and lifting his hammer up into a mighty overhand smash. The forgemaster took another step, the hammer screaming as it came down and…
Click.
Flat on his back, Meliadol was rewarded with being able to clearly see the shocked look of realization on the weathered blacksmith's face as they both processed what had happened.
Electricity shot through the blacksmith's body, every muscle locking up, freezing him in place, hammer still raised. Meliadol didn't have time to gloat though. Against players Electric Needle Trap would only last for one-third the normal time, so he had five seconds to do whatever he wanted.
Springing to his feet, he launched his offensive. Backstab! His falcata glowed red and Grimsaw's health bar dropped significantly when the wicked weapon thrust into him. But with it now on cooldown, Meliadol could only unleash a flurry of normal attacks on the paralyzed blacksmith.
It wouldn't be enough.
Right before the paralysis wore off, Meliadol placed another trap before the blacksmith, shoving the armored man onto it to continue his relentless combo. Again electricity coursed through Grimsaw's body…
This time the crowd control effect of paralysis would be cut in half.
Two and a half seconds.
If he tried a third time Grimsaw would be immune to paralysis effects for a full minute before resetting. It was a diminishing crowd control system put into place to stop people from cheesing encounters in PvP and PvE with long duration CCs.
Meliadol was all-in now. Everything rode on how much damage he could do in the precious seconds he earned. He unleashed everything he had, but time ticked inexorably forward, and in the end desire did not match result.
Grimsaw still had twenty percent left. More than enough to punish Meliadol and return the favor.
In an instant everything changed, a flash of light erupted from the blacksmith's war hammer and Meliadol's world spun as the hammer whipped around and knocked him high into the air. His HP bar screamed, warning him, yet Meliadol didn't have time to orient himself before the hammer completed it's rotation, coming in from above like a crescent, slamming him back down.
Meliadol prepared himself to quick-tech, a universal ability acquired at level ten, allowing one to quickly recover from knockdowns by instantly activating it the moment you touch the ground, but Grimsaw would not be denied. The blacksmith canceled the animation of his attack by completely letting go of his weapon, stepping forward and unleashing a vicious mid-air three-punch combo that culminated in a one-handed grab around Meliadol's torso. Without further ceremony, Meliadol was hip-tossed back to the ground.
He was so surprised by the turn of events that he missed his quick-tech, laying stunned on the ground for a moment longer than he should have. The hammer finished the fight, crashing down directly on his chest, the entire weapon crackling with energy, cratering the ground with the sheer force of its impact. Dust and debris flew everywhere.
The last of his HP ticked down.
You lose the duel.
With the message flashing across his vision, Meliadol could only laugh, covering his face with a hand.
"What doth thee findeth humeth'r in?" Grimsaw finally asked, his hulking form blocking Meliadol's vision as the blacksmith leaned over to offer him a hand up.
"I win." Meliadol said simply, smiling.
"Thy duel system disagrees with thee."
"You used your skills."
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