The young man enters the sandy ground. His opponent doesn't seem to be here right now. He takes off the earthbreaker from his back and places it next to him. loosing that weight makes it easier to stand, if the full plate wasn't so heavy as well. He just hopes the fight starts soon.
Cimorene enters the arena shortly afterwards tying her hair up as she comes in. She looks over at his earthbreaker (that is a larger hammer right?) and then down at her thin leather armor. More for avoiding sharp cuts from the blows she figures it will be useless in this fight. Guess she will have to see what kind of shape the kid is in. She summons up two swords of light in her hand.
"Don't worry they aren't any sharper then a real sword. How do you want to do this, seems they let us pick the rules."
Well, with Rogar going down and Thel going to the side, it looks like both of them missed each other.
Okay down on the ground, not the best position, but workable. After all, Thel's can't come from the back, so now it comes to how well Rogar staffwork can keep Thel's blade away. Therefore, he starts moving his staff in defense pattern, to try to block any strike from the foil until Rogar can get the case off his back.
Arena Thel v. Rogar
Thel backs off. He's a fencer and sportsman. There's an etiquette about this sort of thing. Rules are made to be bent but Etiquette should never be broken. "No one likes a flailer, Rogar," he snarks as Rogar twirls his staff.
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It's kinda weird talking to a knife. Do you have a person form?
"Yes. But I don't usually use it. And why is it so awkward? It's not as though I'm speaking through you so it sounds like you're conversing with yourself, after all..."
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I support the godly magazine idea, and hope that Eld can serve as mix of town crier and incredibly deadpan game show host in some sections. Also, for some odd reason, he will also make appearance when it comes to godly fashion tips, for even if he is grim reaper he will be the most bishounen god there is. Just you wait
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Damn you and your comprehensive understanding of synergistic tactics. :|
Cue arrival of the last contestant. Late only in the most fashionable of senses, of course. He's a burly man, and tall, like, with a mean aggressive stooped over posture that is not helped by his shaggy mane of black hair and unkempt mustache over an unshaven face. He's dressed in an eclectic combination of scale mail and plate bits tied with leather cords to heavily wine-stained furs, and a series of belts serve as anchor to a wide array of hanging hatchets, daggers, throwing knives, throwing axes and razors woven into the edges of his furs. Across his back are a large crossbow and a huge, bloodstained maw. A quiver of home-made bolts hangs from one hip, and he smells rather strongly of liquor, sweat and stale tobacco. "Righ', sho where'sh th' fightin' at?" Says the man in slightly-more-than-tipsy tones, his voice bearing the grating character of a wood-rasp scraping across asphalt. "I'mma ready for any takersh. Come a' me if ye think yer man enough!"
He grins with crooked, yellow and black teeth.
Timmons, the young receptionist, will ask for the man's name before waving him through. The entire time, he looks slightly afraid; not of the man's weaponry, but of his abysmal hygiene. If he wanted to do this drunk, that was his right.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Shadowcaller
[Arcadia]
"I'm curious!" She exclaims, "Considering I'm sitting naked on top of you and all..." She says in a strangely suggestive voice as they are reaching the tree.
The tree is actually a cypress tree with it's roots plunged deep into the murky swamp waters so there isn't any dry land anywhere near. It's an ancient-looking tree, far larger than any ordinary cypress tree with bark as black as coal and branches reaching out like freakish fingers in every direction.
It might also be at this point the half-dragon might realize he and the dryad are suddenly surrounded by a thick milky mist which somehow just have appeared out of nowhere.
Well, that's not good. Harnel deftly avoids the question by saying, "Wait, something's going on," and dropping the dryad off his shoulders.
He looks into the mists around him with narrowed eyes. It doesn't feel right here.
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Now he got the dryad all pouty, stupid fog distracting her teasing. Disappointingly enough however nothing really seem to happen until Harnel might notice a dim light shining through the fog near the ancient black tree. The dryad however don't seem to notice this. "So...?"
Harnel raises a finger to his mouth, indicating silence. Then he'll start moving off towards the light, moving slowly so he doesn't make too much noise.
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"Hmph." Is audible from the dryad as Harnel slowly approaches the light. The question is however how well he can sneak moving in water, but as he get's closer it doesn't seem like he needs to be sneaking anyway. The light appears to be coming from a sword sticking up from a dirt pile right in front of the tree, marking what appears to be a grave or a memorial of some kind.
Uh oh. Treasure is never unprotected, even in dreams.
The first thing Harnel reaches for isn't the sword, but the dirt in front of the sword. A quick strike should be fast enough to dig into the mud, and if he hits something solid, he'll grab it and haul it up to the surface.
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As Harnel reaches inside the cold wet mud he does indeed feel something as he starts to dig through the pile and as he pulls it out the ghostly whiteness of it clearly indicates what's he's holding, even through the mud. A human skull.
"Uh, fulgy? I think there is something happening!" The dryad calls out, trying to make him pay attention to the sound of mud and water moving all around them and the soft shambling of feet.
Harnel definitely knows that sound; zombies. possibly skeletons as well. to be expected, of course, "Come over here. Quickly."He lowers his body in a fighting stance; the trick to fighting with claws and teeth when you've got no other weapons is being like an animal, and the dryad might get that sense from Harnel as he stands ready.
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She dryad do dash towards Harnel through the muddy water but instead of standing behind him she starts to quickly climb up the ancient black tree. "Follow me you numbskull, it's safer up here!" She exclaims.
Meanwhile the half-dragon starts seeing silhouettes of things which slowly have started to shamble towards them. Giving Harnel a chance to only see glimpses of their decayed forms, their wet skin bloated with various parasites nesting within their long-dead bodies. Despite long being dead however Harnel can still see the remains of armor covering their bodies and rusty swords still held within their lifeless hands.
Harnel looks at the different undead with a sweeping glare. Lots of zombies here.
He takes a deep breath before letting out a blast of fire. He wants to test how durable these things are, and the wetness of the general area should keep them from catching alight, despite the fire.
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"All right. I guess we go till submission. Ready?"
She points one of her swords forward at the weapon sitting on the ground. She figures he might want to pick it up.
Arena Cimorene Vs. Eon
Only the head of the weapon is on the ground. currently he holds the handle with one hand so it doesn't felt over. he grabs the handle with his other hand, but doesn't move more.
He just nods, taking a defence stand.
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Yes, them raising from their muddy, wet graves gives them some resistance to the half-dragons breath weapon. Nonetheless, the flame jet literally seem to melt the silhouette which collapses into the swamp who quickly swallows it up as quick as it seemed to have spat it out. The other wanderers don't let this fact stop them however and continue their walk through the mud towards Harnel.
Meanwhile however something is digging through the mud which the half-dragon disturbed, the sounds coming from the inside.
"Yes. But I don't usually use it. And why is it so awkward? It's not as though I'm speaking through you so it sounds like you're conversing with yourself, after all..."
Well, that's exactly why it's weird. I don't have imaginary friends. Blank turns Passion over, trying to get a feel for the knife.
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This is the thief who likes to hoard,
That loves the bard with the puppet Lord
That admires the fighter with the green-hilted sword,
That employs the Wizard, whose bird is ignored,
That has the gender unexplored
That intrigues the Halfling, usually bored,
That slew a mountain of the goblin horde,
That follows the cleric,
That serves the lich,
That seeks the gate,
That guards the snarl,
That lives in the prison the gods built.
Only the head of the weapon is on the ground. currently he holds the handle with one hand so it doesn't felt over. he grabs the handle with his other hand, but doesn't move more.
He just nods, taking a defence stand.
She starts to circle around him staying well out of reach of the large hammer, figuring he must be able to wield it pretty quickly if he is confident enough to let it sit on the ground instead of in his hands. She watches to see how he turns and how comfortable he seems to move in that heavy armor. Hoping he will tire long before her she figures she can drag this fight on.
Harnel shifts away from the place he was standing, in fact charging towards the shambling undead. He'll move towards the corpses he just roasted to pick up their swords
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Since the circle she has to draw around him must be very wide she might rethink her action. Eon moves slowly. he only has to turn around which doesn't seem to exhaust him, well not until she walks around him for hours. Due to that it's hard to make out how good he walks in it. it's just obviouse that the armor is blocking him in some actions. He won't move his weapon, since this would be a waste of energy. Instead the hammer digs himself into the sand. Eon himself tries to watch her as well. He needs to know when she makes her move.
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That'd be hard to do considering the corpse quickly have been swallowed by the murky waters, but if he's quick enough he might be able to pick a rusty sword from one of the undead who falls into the water. The problem however is that there is a great deal of them and they are surrounding him from all sides.
"Watch out! Behind you!" He can hear the dryad suddenly exclaim as something seems to have sneaked up on him from behind as he was charging.
Harnel's tail makes a spinning motion, moving at a very fast speed. it's long and powerfully muscled, so getting hit by it would be like getting hit with a club if Harnel was using his hands.
Despite this, he will have actually managed to get his hands on one of the rusty swords. It should work well for all this, and if any zombie gets too close it will find its head severed from its body in short order.
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Despite his reflexes, the slender creature jumps out of the way of his tail as he swings around, hissing loudly. Unlike the other decaying undead, this one seems surprisingly agile and is dressed in a much more fancier armor but doesn't seem to carry weapons of any kind.
"FILTHY WORM!" The creature howls in a deep yet feminine voice. "YOU WILL BE SWALLOWED BY YOUR OWN GREED!"
While she has hours, she probably isn't going to use them. But she is in no rush. She will dart forward after a circling around him a couple of times. She has no real intention of attacking, instead she is ready to jump back to avoid the hammer, assuming he takes a swing or jab or some sort of attack at her. She is quick on her feet and could cover the 10 feet or so that lays between him and her in very little time, but she wants to see how quick he is with his attacks.
Rogar stands up and presses a button on the staff while twisting it, causing the staff to split into three parts connected by a chain.
"This is flailing."
Rogar starts the san jie gun spinning, trying to use it catch Thel's left arm.
Arena- Thel v. Rogar
"Now that's just ridiculous." Thel deflects the staff with his foil and counter's, closing distance and sending a flick of his foil to Rogar's cheek. So it's changed from a fight with a staff to some sort of whip-flail. This would be a hassle.
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The revenant glare hatefully at the half-dragon, it's hollow eyes filled with nothing but ancient rage lifting it's skeletal hand in the air the sword previously impaled in the mud flies up in the air and into the creatures hand. "RAAAAHH!!! DICKIMIUS, DESTROY HIM! LET HIS GREED CONSUME HIM!" It howls as the sword starts to glow ominously.
The next moment the whole scene is changed as Harnel suddenly find himself standing on a beach with a large mountain peak in the background which probably reminds Harnel of Sanctum Corus. The undead are gone and so is the fog, all that remains is the sword and the dryad who falls down into the sand. "Whu-Ow!"
The sword on the other hand is hovering in the air, still glowing in that bright light which now surrounds it.
Unlike Sanctum Corus however there isn't any vegetation at all on this island, instead the burned remains of knights which litters the beach and the inland. "...what the void just happened?!"
As the fog lifted Harnel can now see a great mountain in the background
A roar echos over the island, coming from the top of the mountain. A shape lifts off from the top and slowly begins to circle down the mountain... another roar comes, louder. The shape suddenly swoops down over the beach, giving the pair a good look at it... a red dragon. It arcs past, over the ocean, and releases a deafening roar and a jet of flame into the surf.
Finally, it gives a hard bank and lands on the beach, sending corpses and sand flying.
"Well, well, WELL."
The dragon has a malicious smirk on his face... he's going to enjoy this.
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