How we think the fight will go

Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings, leader beloved, and long he ruled. One day most frigid, winter storms, rolled the rough waves, and the ship of the king struck land anew. Walked he, with blade in hand, haughty helm of gold upon his head.

“What manner of man be you stranger? Are you in league with demons foul?” A voice clear but black, choked with hatred and strength. A man, tall and marked with strange runes, upon his flesh did appear. Glinting spear, held at right, awaiting flesh. Arlen of Tibbet’s Brook, the Warded Man of legend. A slayer of demons, a slayer of men.

“Stay your arms, marked man, of this strange land. A traveler am I, made lost by storms at sea.” But fast, like a polecat’s strike, did Arlen leap to attack the king, yet parried, and no spear availed. Few words he spake, but instead let the glinting blade sing songs of battle. Ring and clatter echo’d, a fight most skilled and well-matched.

‘Til blade met marked flesh, Arlen falling to knee. Wards unlit, spear broken and rent asunder. “Demons tremble and quake, at the mention of my name. Yet, slain by man, I am but dust.” And lo, death’s fell wave washed, o’er the man tattooed. The king, paused to reflect on the fallen soul, turned on heel, hungry for Grendel’s blood.

Predicted Winner: Beowulf (Wards are great against demons, but don’t offer any benefit in a fight with a warrior-king)