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Ice?

Deitric peered downwards at the arena from the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His proud features remained calm as he surveyed the fighting area, noting the giant blocks of ice that had been placed within, along with the center pool of water. Another gimmick?

The red-skinned fighter turned to the crowd and raised his hands. He'd won his last round, and the round before it-- could he do it again?

He turned about, slipping his arms back over his chest as he simply stepped off the edge. The warrior plummeted through the air, landing feet first in a flurry of snow, the white powder thrown up from his hard landing. He moved forward casually towards the nearest (South) block, dragging his gloved fingers along it.

This would be interesting.

Deitric idly cracked his knuckles as he watched the other fighter make his way into the arena. His form moved out of the cool shadow of the ice block. He wasn't quite the hulking manbeast he'd looked to be from far away - closer up, he was fairly lithe, belying his true weight and strength. The hunter idly quirked a brow-- a suit?

This was going to be interesting.

He continued onward until coming to about fifteen feet away from the center ring, opposite Katsu. There was no need for introductions; their names were o n the jumbo-screens, and by this point they would have realized the name of their opponents.

"Let's get started."

Deitric nodded, noting the glimmer of metal on the man's knuckles. He looked down at his own hands - gloved with some protective padding, but not much else. He shrugged, his hands moving almost as if to grab for the twin tomahawks at his waist.. But he didn't.

Instead, he only rolled his shoulders, letting out a slow, controlled breath - warm steam rolled from his lips like smoke, curling into the air infront of his face as he began marching forward. His walking gait lengthened into a loping run. He had an advantage over his opponent, in that his boots were rough on the bottom - metal and leather. He had traction, even on ice.

The warrior closed the distance quickly, moving smoothly. He looked as if he were going to try and shoulder check or tackle the other fighter - but it was impossible to know for certain until he got closer.

Deitric's oncoming charge had continued, and his lead (right) shoulder had turned and lowered, as if he was going to barge the man over and continue right on to the far wall. His momentum abruptly stopped, however, when he dug his heel into the ground and forced himself to stop on a dime only five feet away from the man or so.

His upper body twisted suddenly so that he was squared with the man again, his left hand moving in a flicker from where it had been before. A glint of metal flew through the air between them like a flash-- a knife. It was aimed for his opponent's right thigh, spinning through the air like a boomerang, only that it wouldn't be coming back by its own accord.

With the quick toss of his knife, Deitric's change in stance continued, flowing like water from the "tackling" shoulder forward, to the throwing position, then into his fighting position, his left side forward, both hands up and balled into fists, his feet a little more than shoulder width apart. A faint grin split the red-skinned features of his face, the contrast of white teeth and darker skin making it all the more noticeable. If anything, the knife throw had been nothing more than a taunt; something to get his opponent drawn into the fight.

CRACK--

Katsu's kick landed like he wanted, but it'd caught something other than ankle - the greave Deitric wore. He wore one on each leg, metal and leather to offer plenty of protection to the lower portion of his leg, which included part of the ankle. Katsu's ankle had slammed right into the greave, probably causing him a fair bit of pain, but unless he were outright unlucky, no lasting damage. At most, it might've disrupted a bit of Deitric's balance, but his guard had taken the brunt of the assault.

The looming warrior's back leg pushed off again, his hands up and ready as if he were going to smash himself right into the rising Muay Thai fighter. However, his motion became too forward, too fast - he was aiming to slam his right knee into the man's face. His movement into the attack had been swift and abrupt - in nearly the same second he was getting kicked in the leg, he was rushing forward to try and deliver a counter blow to his opponent's face. His hands were aiming to grab at Katsu, if it were possible, either for the head, neck, or shoulders. Anything to help keep him in place while the blow was being struck.

With any luck, he'd strike the martial artist while the man was in motion himself - trying to bring his retracted foot under him into a ready stance.


[Sorry about the shitty post. Getting rushed around a lot today to do s**t.]

Deitric felt his knee smash into the man's face with a crunch-- too bad he didn't wear knee-pads like some sort of crazed Road Warrior fan. He knew his movement had put him at a disadvantage, and now he was going to realize why.

His opponent's hands managed to get a good hold on him, and he felt the man's leg sweep his ankle forward and force him to topple backwards. In all truth, he probably didn't even need to use his hands to bring the warrior down, his balance at the time wasn't that great in the first place, but it sure helped in making Deitric's fall a hard one.

Thud

Deitric hit the ground with a wheeze as the air was slammed out of his lungs. He knew this position well - he hadn't been in it in any recent fight, but he had put at least one opponent in a similar position, or the one that this one would inevitably lead to-- the mount. Even though he wasn't a grappler in any technical nature, and didn't know the name of such a thing, he knew what it meant. When someone got the mount, it was almost always game over.

With his leg still cocked up and knee presumabely in the man's face (or somewhere even remotely near the man's body, if he were atop Deitric or near his legs), Deitric would manage to pull his knee close to his body-- and then lash out hard with the steel-capped heel in a flash of combat adrenaline and fighting instinct. The move barely took any effort or time at all - he was already essentially in the position with his knee up and bent, it just took a little pull and then a hard push to get the leg kicking; no pun intended.

He was aiming to catch Katsu in the chest or gut - or even the face, if the man was trying to keep Deitric on the ground. If he was already somehow atop Deitric, then the tribesman's hands on the opponent's head might keep him in place long enough for Deitric to deliver the lifting kick to the man's body and force him off and away.

[The post is just assuming that Katsu is going to be on/around Deitric's lower body, or at least moving forward, given that he had just taken Deitric down via the legs and a push on the stomach. If I got Katsu's position wrong, just toss me a PM and I'll correct it.]

Deitric grunted as his kick was knocked aside, moving to sit up when his opponent slammed his knuckle-duster home into Deitric's stomach--

A dull clank answered as the fist struck home on Deitric's lower body, but it hadn't hit flesh. Beneath the leather jacket he wore, there was something else - some sort of light armor, but covered up as it was, it was hard to tell exactly what it was made up of, though there was clearly some metal in there as his opponent's fist had managed to hit it.

The warrior had kept his arms up instinctively, and when his opponent's fist came down, his own hands lashed out - he knew he was wearing the armor, his opponent didn't. A pained grunt escaped his lips when the blow struck; just because he had some protection didn't mean it hadn't hurt. But he'd been through worse, and he wasn't about to let it stop him from doing what he intended.

Playing on the (hopeful) surprise of his opponent at finding that the punch had met resistance other than flesh, Deitric's left hand snapped out like a snake just as the dull clang of metal on metal would have been heard, aiming to grasp Katsu's left arm by the wrist. At the same time, he aimed to slam his right hand home into the back of Katsu's elbow in the form of an open palm.

The tribal fighter was strong; but even more worrisome, he was stronger than he looked. He looked to weigh in around two-twenty, but in all reality he weighed in at two fifty-two; an entire thirty-two pounds more of muscle. If the blow struck and didn't immediately do damage to the arm (or even if it did), his body would continue with the motion of the blow, hopefully twisting to sling Katsu off of him to keep Deitric from doing more damage to the arm, giving him the upper-hand: control of Katsu's arm.

If he managed to get Katsu off of him, he'd promptly right himself and press his knee into the man's tri-cep to keep him on the ground while keeping the man's arm locked and steadily on the way to breaking. If it had been broke, then Deitric would just be a b*****d and torque the broken arm in order to make Katsu tap or pass out from the pain.

---------
[What-if portion below assuming the above doesn't work.]

If all else failed and Deitric hadn't been able to do anything to the arm what-so-ever, then he'd pull his trump card--

Electricity. His Defensive Trigger would come to life, blue arcs swirling around him - and Katsu - like a maelstrom, sending bolts of static power into his opponent - hopefully enough for Deitric to use afore-mentioned grip on Katsu's arm to force the man off of him with his greater size and strength.