=Elemental Championships 2009= Grand Finals


	Home \| Login \| Register \| Help \| Play

=Elemental Championships 2009= Grand Finals

Logged in as: Guest

Printable Version

All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> The Championships >> =Elemental Championships 2009= Grand Finals

Page 1 of 3

Forum Login

Message

<< Older Topic Newer Topic >>

8/3/2009 14:45:11

Ronin Of Dreams
Still Watching...

The arena is large, with rows upon rows of seats for spectators above a perfect octagon field of red sand. The crowd slowly gathers to watch the incredible displays of sorcery and swordsmanship. The wealthier viewers sit in front-row seats, surrounded by armed bodyguards and personal mages, whilst the commoners are forced to watch the bloodshed from a more considerable distance.

The air is filled with anticipation, excitement, and the buzz from the invisible protection fields the guardian mages produce to keep wayward projectiles - be they metal or magic - away from the crowd.

It's not such petty protective magics that are most prominent sight of the arena, but rather the eight pillars, incredible manifestations of the Elemental Lords' power, and the gates behind each that put such things to shame.

The gates themselves unimportant, only what's behind them being of any relevance - for behind them were the eight champions, now healed and restored after the battles that granted them such a title, who came here to fight for their own glory and the glory of their elements. Few sounds came from behind the gates - unlike before, there was but one man or creature behind each, and there was no one they could express whatever emotions they had to there... Everyone knew that a Lord only chooses a single follower to battle on - the one who he sees as most worthy of the privilege, and thusly everyone knew that this would be a battle to remember.

And, as a reminder of that fact, the eight grand pillars stand - if not to communicate to all those who gathered of the Lords' might and grace, then at least to provide some distraction for the blood-thirsty crowd.

An ancient oak stands in the sandy arena, or at least, a trunk of one, for the only visible branches grow straight into in the stone platform above. Indeed a monument to itself, the Pillar of Earth seems to be eternal and vivid at the same time. Beside it, a silver statue of defender with a spear stands, ready and vigilant... Stories, some true, some false, but all wondrous, tell of how that man had fell in years past, and how his death was honoured by the Lord itself as the defender of the otherwise harmless Pillar.

Surrounded by a shimmering veil of superheated air, a stream of flickering lava - who could have guessed melted stone could burn? - flows constantly from an invisible spot from the platform above, and disappears just as mysteriously into the sand bellow. The Fire Pillar's heat is indeed making all the nearby cool drink vendors happy, and the rest of the crowd suffer, drenched in their own sweat.

Small translucent fish play in the Pillar of Water - a lazy waterfall, which, while providing an aura of coolness and relaxation for all of those around, does not spill one drop of it on the red arena sand.

The Darkness Piller can not be seen - either because it simply sucks all nearby light it in, making its surroundings signficantly dimmer than the rest of arena, or due to the fact no one really wants to look at it, seeing how doing only rewards one with piercing pains in the head and the taste of bile in the mouth...

The Pillar of Wind can not be seen either, but it most certainly can be felt and heard... A whirlwind (though more of a miniature tornado) spins happilly around, messing up the elaborate hairdos of the ladies in the stands above.

A white patch of snow in the red red field with a humongous slab of ice in the center - even a penguin would probably lose a limb if it were to touch the Pillar of Ice.

A silent hum and standing hair are the only warnings one gets of the pillar of pristine steel standing in the sand - the Pillar of Energy, of course.

The Pillar of Light seems to be ethereal - a light as bright as no one has ever seen, and still one that doesn't hurt your eyes - rather on the contrary, as its soothing effect is possibly even greater than that of the Water Pillar's.

The Arena is spotlessly clean, with not a drop of blood or gore anywhere... Either the scarlet liquids were washed away during the course of the year... or they simply became one with that red sand below your feet and in your shoe.

As the crowd mingled in anxious anticipation of the announcement and arrival of the Champions, a lone tournament official strode out into the sands. In a deep voice, amplified several magnitudes to cut through the din by a helpful staff mage, he pulled out a scroll. "Ladies and Gentlemen, even now the Champions are being notified of their advancement and are making their way to the arena! However, rather than force each and every one of you to wait, I have here the list of those advancing!" The din reached a new uproar that would not settle for all the 'polite coughs' in the world to get their attention.

"For Earth...the master of unusual blades, Angelo Valorian!"

"For Fire...we have Roman the Firewolf!"

"For Water...the practitioner of perilous prestidigitations, the drakel mage Tel'rion!"

"For Darkness...the duplicitous and dark, Jonathan "Grey" Karshte!"

"For Wind...the stalwart Defender, Elian "Eli" Gonzales!"

"For Ice...that frozen fiend from last year's surprise, Cryoface!"

"For Energy...a rare treat! I give you one of the Chiat, Galvian!"

"And at last, but far from least...For Light...the Sun's Fury himself, Blaze Drakestorm!"

Upon reading off the last of the champions, the mildly portly announcer started to scamper down to hop out through the small, mostly hidden official's gate before the Finalists would arrive...but found his exit blocked by a harried young official going prematurely bald from stress. This younger official handed the announcer a short length of scroll and the two conversed for a short while. As the crowd's buzz reached a new uproar out of concern, the announcer stepped back out onto the sands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear...that something unusual has occurred. There will be a substitution this year, as for various reasons that I am not at liberty to disclose, Angelo Valorian has declined the honor of participating as the Champion of Earth. Unfortunate, most unfortunate, I know... Instead, Earth shall be honored by the presence of Zenz Nightwalker!" The bumbling official scurried swiftly before any catcalls could arise, slipping out into the slim alcove for official business.

The gates begin to open, with loud cheers from the crowd.

You will either become victorious, or become sand.

< Message edited by Kellehendros -- 6/20/2010 20:53:53 >

Post #: 1

8/3/2009 16:42:51

Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer

The Defender was getting used to being ignored. Honor was apparently a distant concept for most of those gathered here, and while Elian could respect that each competitor was allowed their own opinion of what was and was not the right way to go about the tournament, he couldn't help but be a little disappointed that none of the other competitors in the Fountain Arena were willing to stand face to face in honorable combat. His sword lowered slightly, and he was about to do something, but was interrupted as a pair of metal bolts slammed into the back of his neck. Eli let out a choked cry of surprise, and stumbled forward, dropping his sword as he did so.

Elian went down to one knee, his hand reaching up behind him for the darts, when there was a sudden, brilliant flash of light, and everything went black.

His eyes snapped open a moment later, and Eli jerked reflexively, sitting up with a gasp. The first thing he noticed, was the clear blue sky above him, the occasional white fluffy mass of cloud scudding across it. The Defender stood, perplexed, as he realized his armor was gone, but then, so were his weapons. The young man cast around for his gear for a moment, noting the clumps of tall grass nearby swaying gently in the soft southerly breeze that ruffled his hair, bringing the scent of sun-baked grass to his nostrils.

The jolt of realization that shuddered through him moments later was almost enough to send him back to his knees. These were the plains outside of Iasura. He whirled wildly, and there she was. His mother was small, older than he remember, a semi-shriveled shrew of a woman, who's eyes still held the fire of her fury at the world within them. Her voice was high, harpy-like, and sharper than any weapon. "Well now, what did I tell you when you left? You left me to die in that town, and all it bought you was an ignoble end of your own!"
The young Defender flinched backwards as though physically struck. "What are you talking about? I'm not dead..."
She laughed, shrill and grating. "Ha, then why are you here? In this place you abandoned so long ago, with the woman you scorned?"
Eli shook his head in denial. "Those darts couldn't have killed me, not during the Ritual."
Again, the laughter. "The Ritual? Have you ever considered that your precious Ritual failed? That it's worth as little as your word to your own mother?"
Elian's fists clenched, his voice rising in anger. "The Ritual doesn't fail. And what about your word mother? You broke our agreement."
"Don't turn this on me, boy! You abandoned me, just like he did!"
"Leave him out of this, father was a good man, and he died as he lived, to help others."
"What about us? Had he no duty to help his family?"
"Enough! He did more for you than you will ever realize. He loved you, somehow, and I'll not hear you slander him!"

She was gone. Again the young man glanced around in confusion, he had blinked, and then she was gone. The Defender glanced around, looking for her, or anyone else for that matter, and when he turned around his eyes met his father's, and his heart nearly stopped. The wave of longing and disappointment that washed through him was nigh indescribable, for the man's green eyes peering back into Eli's were not his father's, the orbs held too much, the wisdom and sadness of untold ages peering out through the eyes of the father-who-wasn't into the son's. Elian licked his lips nervously as the silence stretched between them until he could stand it no longer. "I-I, I'm not, not r-really dead, am I?"
Eli's not-father didn't reply for a moment, and simply gazed at the young man, riveting him in place with his gaze until at least he shook his head slowly.
Elian swallowed nervously. "Why am I here?"
A slight frown from his not-father. "You did enter the tournament, didn't you?"
"Y-yes."
A smile. "Well, that's it then."
He blinked in confusion. "But, this place, my, my mother."
"A test."
"I don't understand."
"Perhaps you aren't supposed to." The not-father smiled at the look of confusion that crossed Elian's face at that pronouncement. He shifted ever so slightly, and addressed the Defender again. "Tell me something. If you could have one thing, anything in the world, what would it be?"
Eli blinked, surprised by the sudden topic change, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Well, um, I'd like my gear back."
His not-father smiled again. "Something besides that which you already have."
The young man frowned. "What? But I don't-" He cut off in mid sentence, realizing he was suddenly clothed in his armor again, shield and sword slung on his back. "Oh, well, um... I guess I'd kind of like some neck protection then, you know, to stop darts and all."
The man gazed at Elian levelly, voice even. "Let me get this straight. I offer to give you anything you want, anything in the world, and you ask me not for money, not for power, not for fame, but for a gorget?"
The Defender considers this for a moment, a slight frown crossing his face. "Oh, um, is that bad? Was I supposed to ask for one of those other things?" His not-father made no immediate response, and then burst out laughing, doubling over and holding his stomach. Eli frowned. "What? What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing at all." The man stood, and nodded gravely. "Very well, you shall have your scale gorget, and this one other thing besides." He waved his hand, and the young man stiffened, a scale gorget matching his mail appearing about his neck, and power flooding through his body. "For years the Defenders have passed down the techniques I taught, but always their use has drained them. This boon then I grant you. Though the Circle will drain you still, you shall be able to fight on, for the exhaustion will be less than that you have experienced before. Now, go, the Arena awaits."

"Wait! No, won't-!" Elian started forward towards the man, and everything went black again. Surprised, the Defender blundered into a stone wall where moments later there had been none. Blinking in shock, the young man glanced around to find himself in a small stone cell near a gate. The gate cracked open with a stately majesty, and the roar of the crowd hit Eli like a physical blow, reverberating through his chest and the very stone around him.

It was time, the Defender pushed the odd occurrences that had transpired behind him, grinning as he strode out form his gate and on to the red Arena sands. He moved forward confidently, striding towards the miniature tornado, unfazed by the winds that whipped about him, tugging at his helm, mail and shield. Coming to a halt near the Pillar of Wind, the Defender drew his sword with a flourish, shaking his kite shield down into position on his arm. Eli waved the blade enthusiastically, grinning as the crowd roared in response to the sight of the first Champion emerging onto the field. Whatever questions he had could wait, now was the time for action.

Post #: 2

8/3/2009 17:15:49

ringulreith
Member

Blaze was enveloped by light the likes of which he had never seen. All around him, tendrils of every single color moved about, weaving in and out of each other, twisting, turning, intertwining; it was as if something had taken the entire world apart, bending the threads of existence to their will, so that shapes unimaginable danced freely about in the void of creation. The light was soft, soothing to the vision, and calming to the mind. All of his aches gone; his worries dismissed; his weariness faded. He felt as if he was part of this ever moving web of color, like his entire being was a single thread, swaying in the winds of fate. He tried to move—but he had no body. He was only but a conscience, floating upon the eternal waves of time. He had no emotion, no feeling; as if he had ascended to a state of euphoria.

Am I… dead?

This thought passed through his mind, if he still had such a thing, akin to another of the threads of creation wrapping around his existence. But did he exist? And if this was death, it was truly a wonderful thing—more wonderful than describable. For one to emortally exist in an eternal dance so peaceful, as if it were born from innocence was truly magnificent. To forget all pain, be devoid of all emotion, what more could someone wish for? For one to be able to look back on their life, to enjoy the memories with no regret, no sadness…

Memmories flashed by inside Blaze’s brain, each being replaced as fast as it appeard; his life as a child; growing up with his first family, in a society where crime was encouraged and honor non-existent; running away from his home; finding refuge with the Drakestorms, a kind, honorable family; training to become a warrior; training with the paladins; protecting all that he loved and cherished; coming to the Elemental Championships to honor his lord, the lord of light; and finally, his last moments in Spike Arena—his katana swinging down at a young man’s shoulder, body aching, energy depleted, his blood being drained as it hit the cold blue metal floor. But as these memories winded through the bowels of his mind, he felt a sadness overcome him. As his life flashed by even now, he could not help thinking it had all gone to waste; most of it was spent training, training for a future that would not be there, and promicing to protect a world that he would not live to witness grow and thrive. If only he was still alive, he could have done so much more…

And you can…

Wha—but I am dead… Cursed to forever exist in this haven, knowing that I did little for my people, my world, my lord. I have failed him, dishonored him… A new sadness came over Blaze, one of not being able to honor his lord; quite the contrary, one of having dishonored him completely.

My child, you have done no such thing.

Hmm? Blaze was somewhat taken aback—was he not the only one here? And yet, here was this… voice, was it? No matter, it was talking to him… But how?

You have done well, my child.

Well? Well in what… I have died, failed to protect the world I vowed to do so, and have dishonored my lord.

No, Blaze Drakestorm, you have not. Quite the contrary, you have pleased me greatly…

M-My lord… Blaze tried to bow, to show some sign of respect, but alas, he could not. How could he bow when he had no body to do so?

Yes, Blaze. You have done much to uphold my honor throughout your life, and you have pleased me greatly. You shall be proceeding to represent me in the Elemental Championships.

So I have succeeded?

Yes you have, my child.

Thank you, my lord.

Now, rise, the sun’s fury!

As these last words echoed in Blaze’s mind, he saw the light surrounding him start to slow down dim. Slowly, the light disappeared, and was replaced with darkness.

Blinking and stretching his limbs, Blaze slowly opened his eyes. He was in a dark stone room, with the only source of light coming from ahead. He was sitting on the cold stone floor of the alcove, nude except for a soft linen loincloth. As he looked around him, he noticed that all of his equipment had been placed along the alcove’s left wall. His armor was there, set on a stand. As he examined it closely, he marveled at its newfound sheen. It had not looked this good ever since he had bought it. Every blemish, dent, even the finest particles of dust had been removed from it, leaving it gleaming brilliantly. Beside them hung his sword and shield, both shining like his armor, and beside them was a small platform where his clothing lay. But even more surprising than the new shine of his equipment was the lack of any scars on his body—lack of any pain, now that he thought of it. For this, more than anything else, he was happy.

He wasted no time in getting up and striding to where his possessions were. First came on a pair of new underclothes and a pair of socks; then his tunic and pants; then his greaves, covering his thighs; then his boots, soft and warm; then his vambraces, covering his lower arm; then his custom vest, with the front top half of it replaced by a light steel plate; finally, his scaled gauntlets were slipped on his hand, both adorned with a sun painting on the backside. Next came his sword and shield, falling into their places with practiced ease. Fully garbed, Blaze turned to the front of the room, and started walking forward. As he did so, a large, magnificent gate was lifted, as if acting on his whim.

The gate, however, did nothing but obscure the truly jaw-dropping seen behind it. In all of his life, Blaze had never witnessed such a magnificent display of the light lord’s power. A pillar of light, much taller than he was, stood just outside his room, shimmering and eluminating everything around it. It was truly magnificent. It was, indeed, so beautiful that Blaze had to stop his walking to admire it. It was only a fraction of the light lord’s power though, and Blaze knew this. Its light shined over his flowing platinum hair as he continued, his footsteps turning from loud echoing thuds to soft crunching as he emerged onto the arena sands. All around him, he could hear the loud din of the croud, like the annoying buzzing of a fly; but he knew it would not go away, knew he would have to endure it. So it was filed away in his mind, where it could not pester him.

As Blaze drew level with the pillar of light, he took a moment to examine the arena he was in. An octagonal field of red sand, with a pillar representing each element standing sentinel at each side, with another room much like his behind each. At one end, near a miniature tornado that he presumed to be the pillar of wind, he saw a young man dressed in armor much like his, wielding a longsword and a shield the same shape as his own. Blaze smiled at him. There was nowhere to hide, and this Blaze took on with a smile. As his observation finished, he knelt down in front of the light pillar, silently preying to the light lord. His prayer was silent, and nobody heard it but himself and the light lord.

He had been chosen, and he would show the world the power of light.

< Message edited by ont -- 8/3/2009 17:42:03 >

Post #: 3

8/3/2009 19:06:51

Clyde
Legendary Artist!

Confidence filled his heart and warmed his blood. He knew he had the Fire Contender, there was no escape. The Fire Contender had been careless; his first mistake happened when he attacked Galvian behind his back. One day, he would have to get over the one on one honor fights, but he enjoyed them too much. The struggle of two warriors, the clashing of spirits, and the desire to fight for what you believe in. Such a thing cannot be replicated in four-on-one fights or two-on-two, but in the Elemental Championships it might as well be one against seven.

After he had taken care of the Fire Contender he would move on towards the Ice or the Light Contender, which ever one had survived the battle. Galvian was unsure how it would go after that since his energy was basically spent. He had to concentrate on one thing at a time, take each challenge one by one as it came.

Just as his fist had moved in towards Roman, bright flashes of light had engulfed him. The wounds from earlier started fading away, his injuries healed, and his power restored and fully charged. Even within it's grasp he felt uneasy and even slightly nervous as the light had carried him. Maybe he had died? Did one of the other Contenders sneak in an attack while he was busy attacking the Firewolf? Hundreds of possibilities to his demise has had crosses his mind until he awoken in front of some gate.

Was this heaven? Or perhaps a warrior's hell of constant fighting? If anything Galvian would've considered the latter a perfect Heaven. He smiled as he approached the gate, his being was practically drawn towards the Energy Pillar. It's power resonated with an almost faint hum that attracted Galvian. The shiny steel, the powerful energy, it was beautiful.

Finally it had hit him, he was a Finalist. While there were no others Energy people in the Sky Arena, he must've bested them somehow. Plus he had survived what that horrid arena had to offer and the Contenders within it. As he looked around he saw some unfamiliar faces, probably from different arenas. Deep down a feeling ached him, he expected some Sky Contenders to arrive soon. Things were different now. He wasn't dancing around unstable rocks. This time he was on ground, a solid freedom he had loved.

It was like the calm before the storm. This felt natural to Galvian, the roar of the audience above and around had shook his mutated bones. He was chosen by the Energy Elemental Lord himself as a representative of the element that sparks life. The element that was true and powerful. Like everything else it had it's flaws and it's strengths, but today Galvian would show that Energy was a force to be reckoned with.

"For Energy...a rare treat! I give you one of the Chiat, Galvian!"

The announcer screamed his named. It had brought a smile to Galvian's face. He repeated "A rare treat" in his mind a few times and it was a sweet as bite of candy. Some would think of him as a monster, others would think of him as just another corpse walking, and others would acknowledge him as a Champion.

He would give the audience something to talk about. Just like when he entered the Sky Arena, he pounded his chest with his fists, loose energy came and left. The icing to the cake; he roared loudly. This was only a test to his new opponents and a reminder to his past foes.

Post #: 4

8/3/2009 20:32:58

TormentedDragon
Member

Disaster. The creature was more agile than he could hope to be, as it twisted away from the strike and took the hit upon its arm. Its fist came around in a power charged strike, and this one would do far more than stun. But disaster was the end. As the beast's paw approached, Roman erupted in flame, his power unleashed and allowed free rein. And, as fire does, it immediately began to consume him.

This was not new to him. This, too, he had practiced, training with it until he knew, beyond even the shadow of a doubt, that once unleashed, his flame could be reined in once again. But this time, it would not obey. It was his will that shaped it, that fed it, that gave it life, but now his will had no say. His flame, his power, had been pre-empted, and now there was nothing in the world that was not fire or food for the fire.

Save for the pain. His flesh was burning, locked in the midst of his change, and so what was supposed to be quick became prolonged... became torture.

Burn.

The word was barely even that, a whisper within a roar. But it had been said. Of that, he had no doubt.
The flames vanished, and the pain ceased, and he collapsed to the floor, panting with relief. It was a moment before he opened his eyes, and confirmed what his nose had already told him: this was not the Sky arena. Before him was a magnificent gate, beyond that, the red sands of the greater arena, in which the Champions of each Lord faced each other to determine who reigned supreme... for that year.

To him, however, the smells were more telling the sight. The scent of blood, old blood, was strongest, bleeding through even the sulfurous stench of the Fire pillar, which was enough to make him sneeze. But only once. More scents came through, as he trotted forward; a hint of ozone, the barest scent of old, old oak, and, as he passed through the gate, the smell of water. Sound and sight confirmed it; there was a waterfall to his left, coming from nothing and feeding a pool, a curious parallel to the flow of lava that symbolized his own Lord.

His paws spread as they touched sand, and licked his lips, and nose too. He was not the first to come through his gate, but neither was he last. A roar caught his attention, and he looked across the arena to spy a familiar form. So the beast was here as well, and roaring in challenge. He sat on his haunches, raised snout to sky, and howled, filling the arena with the pure, mournful sound.

I am the Firewolf. In the name of Fire, I shall Burn.

Post #: 5

8/3/2009 21:15:44

Apocalypse
Member

The sensation tingled all the way down his spine as he realized that something strange was occurring. It did not feel like any other magic that he had been in contact with before, and felt more...pure than magic could ever hope to be. His Shredders had also disappeared in the process, but neither of these were the surprising part...

It was the ground beneath his feet. The stone, rock, dirt...it was filled with minerals of every kind and variety. Angelo fell to one knee and scooped his hand through the wonderful earth. He brought a handful to his nose and sniffed it, savoring the slight aroma that breathed of life and beauty. This...this is the true face of earth, he thought as stayed knelt down in respect of the perfection achieved here.

'Tis a utopia, is it not?

The voice was not really a voice at all, but a message that passed through Angelo's entire being, full of power yet as gentle as the trickle of falling sand.

"It is, my lord," responded Angelo in a state of unmatched calm. There was never any doubt as to who he was addressing, it was the Lord of the Earth.

The Kastran have long since been a part of such a world. Your people have refused to scar the earth, instead becoming one with it. Working with the earth, not against it. The Kastran have earned a high place in my realm.

Angelo was silent as he allowed the Earth Lord's presence fill him, allowing him to briefly glimpse some of the miracles of nature.

You have been chosen as my Champion. That is, if you accept. However, you have been gone far too long from your home. In your years of absence, a chain reaction is bringing devastation closer and closer to your people.

Angelo's pulse quickened, or at least it would have, had he been in the realm of mortals. Here, he could not tell whether he was still human or made of the very stone that he once controlled.

You have a choice. Either stay as my Champion, or save the Kastran.

"Milord, I beg not to offend..."

There is nothing to offend. Only had you not chosen to save your people, then you would have brought offense to my doorstep. You will go, and I will choose another to take your place. But I have two gifts for you. The first is not the giving, but the return of powers the Kastran have lost over time. Upon going back to your world, these powers will make themselves present, though not at first glance. The second I give you is a wish.

"A wish?"

A wish. One desire of yours brought forth into reality. What shall it be.

A moment's pause...or was it a millennia? It was hard to distinguish time when one was surrounded by unmoving stone.

"My wish...there was a warrior back in my arena. He was a fellow contender of earth. I have struck him a killing blow and he lies dying. Restore him. And return to him the sword that I have taken from him so that he may continue his legend."

Once again I am pleased. It shall be done. Now return to your world, and save those who matter most to you.

Angelo found himself on a deserted plain. There was no one around for miles, and he had nothing on him except the clothes and weapons he had brought to the tournament. The presence was gone as well, though the soothing calm that had accompanied it remained.

A snap of his fingers and two mounds of dirt rose beneath his feet. "Let's ride," he commanded and he set of in the direction of the mountains, a truer man than he ever was before.

Post #: 6

8/3/2009 22:29:49

qbsuperstar03
Member

As Lisa's blade swooped inward towards Cryoface's neck, a strange thing occurs...it is as if all the stage is being covered in ice. The Lords are forbidden to interfere in this tournament, and yet Cryoface knew that he did no such thing to the battlefield. Moreover, he knows he does not have the magical might to undertake this task...unless...

"Rejoice, for you are my Champion."

That voice...that voice...he knows that voice. That was the voice he had heard upon being created.

"My Lord!" Cryoface immediately prostrated himself.

"I am pleased that you are my Champion on the mortal realm, and yet you still know your place as my servant." Cryoface can't help but get the feeling that somewhere, someone was smiling down on him.

"Now, with this knowledge, what will you do for me?" Again the omniscient voice rumbles in the eternal blizzard.

"I will fight to the death for your glory, my Lord!"

"Good. Now go forth and conquer in my name...Cryoface."

"For Ice...that frozen fiend from last year's surprise, Cryoface!"

Here he is again, at the Grand Finals. Only this time, instead of being spat out unceremoniously onto the red sands from the Pillar of Ice, scarred and marked as inadequate but would have to do in a pinch, Cryoface is standing behind the gate reserved for the Champion of Ice to pass through. As the gates open and the roar of the crowd finally reaches him (or perhaps they were clamoring for his head, for he hardly has any blood to spill for their amusement), Cryoface squirms onto the familiar arena sands. The custom-made Ice Plate for his unusually large, bulky, and serpentine form makes his already large presence even more imposing both to onlooker and opponent alike...or so the Snow Warrior hopes.

As Cryoface slithers into the arena, he intends to make full use of his privilege as being the rightful Champion this time around to study his opposition. Immediately he recognizes Roman and Galvian from the Sky Arena. The two representing very active elements, Cryoface has little doubt that the two would renew their feud begun in the preliminary rounds, and thus pays them only as much attention as one would a sleeping guard: Worthy of notice, but not worthy of attacking, lest they gang up against him and turn him into a puddle of water. Of the two, however, Galvian would take priority, seeing as how the Ice and Energy pillars are next to each other.

Beyond Galvian to Cryoface's left, the one the announcer referred to as Blaze Drakestorm has emerged as well. Great, Cryoface thinks to himself. Just like last year, everyone's ready to pounce on me. He draws his Frostbow this time, cognizant of the benefit it would provide in an arena this large. As Lisa had demonstrated in the Sky Arena, spell energy was exhaustible. Arrows, on the other hand, were not, at least when launched from this bow.

Over to Cryoface's right, a man he had never seen before has emerged from the area behind the Wind Pillar. Cryoface hated the idea of turning his back on two potential foes in the Fire and Energy Champions, but comforted in the thought that the two would turn upon each other, he studied the Champion of Wind. Aside from having a neck guard to go with his scale armor, kite shield and sword, he looked like an ordinary flesh-form warrior. This would be a more likely candidate for his first target, but he probably boasted formidable defenses, being "the stalwart Defender." Still, it is to be expected that every win, especially on this stage, will be hard-fought and most likely end in the death of the loser.

But that is the price one often pays for one's convictions in a battle against an equally convinced foe of a rival philosophy. Armed with the knowledge that his role now was to do or die, Cryoface resumes the traditional hard stare of someone with nothing to lose as he holds his bow in the left hand, ready to fire at a moment's notice, and gets ready to size up those that have yet to introduce themselves.

< Message edited by qbsuperstar03 -- 8/3/2009 22:30:27 >

Post #: 7

8/4/2009 0:02:22

Krey
Member

Tentacles were poised to strike. The shadows they cast gave them away—wiry things, ready to strike him down, and Grey wasn't going to have that. This tournament... It was becoming more than he'd imagined it would. And he was not willing to lose. In response to the threat, the shadow-tendrils which still swirled around his form shifted, ready to catch them and retaliate against the sea-shifter. The opportunity never came.

Lights filled him; strange, multi-colored lights, entering and engulfing his form. Of this, though, he was hardly aware, as brief moments later he swam in darkness. It was an odd feeling. He couldn't move, felt as if he had no body, yet the consciousness remained. In his consciousness, he felt Shade; still here and, strangely... closer than ever. Or, perhaps, it wasn't as strange as he thought.

”Indeed. We are becoming... Hm, how to say it. Joined.”

“How?”

”Over the past months, have you not noticed a growing aggression?”

“I have... barely. Why?”

”Because you needed it. You would not have come this far without. You knew it then, and you know it now. In your increasing aggression, you have begun to think more and more like me. And I, more and more like you. If we are not careful, Jonathan, we will become one entity.”

Grey considered this for a moment. It made sense. Months ago, he'd not have considered entering such a tournament. Yet, at the time, to free himself from Shade, he was willing to do anything. Now... Now that wish was just beyond his grasp, getting closer, and he wondered if that was really what he wanted. Shade granted him... power, freedom. It was unlike anything he'd ever known.

And the darkness... The all-encompassing darkness. So cold, and yet... Perfect. Suddenly, he believed that the world should know of this darkness. It struck him, then. That was the reason he was here. He had been chosen. Chosen to share this darkness with the world.

”We will show them the true power of the darkness.“

“We will drown them in the shadows..”

Energy restored, Grey's eyes opened as he found himself lying upon the floor behind the gate. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, eyes taking in the stony cell, and then locking on the gate as it began to rise. He smiled, eyes narrowing as he stepped through the gate, and chancing upon the pillar of darkness. A piercing pain stung his mind, one as much welcomed as it was not, and he turned his eyes away. Such absorbing darkness was glorious... But a lesser being could look upon it only for so long.

A brief moment to recover, and he surveyed the rest of the arena in as much detail as he could without leaving himself unaware. Water and wind were nearest—he could hear the spiraling winds, and the pillar of water was quite self-evident. While he'd not spotted the water contestant, yet, wind had emerged. Grey was less than surprised to find the man whom, before, had served as a useful ally. He'd been considerably skilled. Now, realizing that he'd tossed him away and turned on him in an instant... He could find no remorse. Strange.

Shrugging, he lowered himself, grinning. “Let's show them what we've got,” he muttered under his breath, and his shadow flickered to life. It spiraled up his form, replaced as quickly as it had vanished—for such is the nature of shadows. That which had broken off reached out along his right arm and, slowly, engulfed it from the elbow down. The shadows stretched forth. Like writhing tendrils, they reached a couple feet beyond his arm and took the form of a blade, razor-sharp at its edge. Solidifying, it became as if the shadowed weapon was a part of Jonathan's body, his forearm engulfed entirely in its blackness.

His eyes took in the arena, and the crowd beyond. “Soon...”

< Message edited by Krey -- 8/4/2009 0:03:55 >

Post #: 8

8/4/2009 8:10:37

Geddesmck
Member

Zenz’s final attack had failed.

He fell heavily into the freezing waters of the Fountain Arena, blood flowing freely from the wound that the blindfolded man had inflicted. He heard his killer speak a few words as he took possession of both Zenz’s sword and sheath.

The cold, the exhaustion and the pain prevented Zenz forming any true thoughts as his death neared. He saw the events of his life that defined him, including his previous failure in the Fountain Arena. As he felt his mind begin to leave him, one more image came into his mind, although this was not a memory. He saw a man wearing old, dirty armour sitting on a broken throne.

Zenz had thought he was dead, but the cold stone behind his naked back made him reconsider his assumption. As his mind slowly climbed back into full consciousness, he became aware of more evidence that proved he hadn’t escaped life just yet. His left side, where his opponent's weapons had injured him, ached dully, as did his chest and head. Opening his eyes, Zenz found himself lying against a wall, wearing only his cloth trousers. He tested his body by sitting up straighter and found that, despite some minor discomfort, he seemed to be in acceptable condition.

The memories of his wounds flashed into Zenz’s mind and he immediately looked at his torso. A small bruise was present on the right side of his chest, but it seemed nearly healed. Hesitantly, Zenz checked his left side, half expected to see a horrible wound. He sighed in relief when he saw that instead of an open wound he had a large, fresh scar. It wasn’t very pretty and it still occasionally gave Zenz an echo of pain from the original wound, but it no longer incapacitated him.

Getting to his feet, Zenz scanned the area he was in. The first thing that caught his eye was a large gate, with a magnificent, eternal tree behind it. For a couple of moments, he simply stared in wonder at the unexpected sight. He knew what this meant; he was in the finals of the Elemental Championship.

His delight lasted only a few moments before doubt set in. He heard an announcement from the arena, but the name given for the Earth Champion was not his, he gave the name Angelo Valorian instead. Desperately, Zenz searched the room he was in again, looking for any sign of what was going on. Lying in a pile in one corner were a few items which had somehow escaped Zenz’s notice as he awoke. It took him a moment to recognise them; both of his swords, sheaths and a new shirt.

As he prepared himself he listened to the rest of the list of competitors as read by the announcer. He noted, with some disappointment, that when the Ice Champion was named, it was not Chel; the woman he had fought briefly in Fountain Arena. He drew his long sword from its sheath, noting that it was in good condition, although that was to be expected from an unbreakable weapon. As he replaced the long sword and went to draw his second weapon, he heard the announcer speak again, confirming Zenz’s status as Earth Champion.

He was disappointed to learn that he had only reached the final through luck, he had hoped his performance had been enough alone to earn him a place in the finals. He pulled out his short sword, quickly checking it for damage. It looked to be in perfect condition, even the damage it picked up in Fountain arena seemed to be removed. However, there was one thing different about it. A small inscription marked the base of the blade. It said only two words:

A gift.

“A gift,” Zenz whispered as he once more sheathed his sword, “Okay my Lord, I’ll accept your gifts; this sword, my body and my chance at truly honouring you.”

The gate opened before Zenz, and despite a few jeers from the crowd, he held his head high and approached the Earth Pillar; the eternal tree and its silver guardian. Taking a place in front of the tree, where he could see most of his opponents, Zenz widened his stance and waited. He was not the first finalist to leave his gate, and neither was he the last. He had not quite earned his place in the finals, but he would both earn his place and prove that he was worthy of even becoming the Elemental Champion.

But for now, he watched and waited.

< Message edited by Geddesmck -- 8/5/2009 14:21:39 >

Post #: 9

8/5/2009 8:48:31

Guardian of Nekops
Member

Tel’rion ran, ran frantic through the flickering torchlight of Cellar. The hard-packed dirt seemed to waver beneath his feet as his opponent’s darkness infested his mind, beginning to take his balance in addition to affecting his speech and vision. His enemy was behind him, immune to pain and brimming with dark power, ready to snuff out his life with a single thought. A sand castle might as well try to flee the tide, and yet the outcast Drakel ran.

Shortly die shortly die shortly die! Don't crave dead, pardon don't die!

Death loomed before the Salt Mage in the guise of a growing shadow form which quickly took on the shape of his insane, screaming foe. Twin katanas of purest darkness scythed in towards his neck even as they formed, leaving Tel’rion with no time to dodge them.

It was then, just as all hope seemed lost, that a point of light which screamed of every color at once lanced through the shadowy blades, sundering and dispelling them as if they had never been. The Drakel had no time to process this before barreling into his opponent, whose body surprisingly gave about as much resistance as a rag doll might have.

The Salt Mage’s triumph was short lived, however, for mere steps beyond this confrontation his dulled and muddled vision took its toll. Unable to differentiate a reflection from the rest of the arena, he slammed into one of the mirrored walls of Cellar. The impact jarred the diseased and healthy portions of his brain, pulling their different consistencies apart, and Tel’rion began to bleed into his brain as he collapsed backwards, his body still as the death that was so fast approaching.

Tel’rion lay upon his back, still and lifeless, upon a sandbar in the middle of an endless sea. The Drakel’s body and head were partially submerged in the salt water, as was all his spent equipment which lay strewn about him. The sun beamed down on this static scene, and the waves lapped against the fallen mage’s cheeks, as if trying impotently to wake him.

Then Water moved.

A massive wave crashed down upon the lifeless Champion, disturbing nothing but rocking him to his core. The Salt Mage shot up, gasping for air as his wounds were washed away, his scaled flesh made whole but still tainted black where the darkness had touched it. He grinned, the smell of the salt air strong in his nostrils.

Tel’rion rose to his feet, only to bow down awkwardly on the sea-covered sand. Opening his mouth, he began to praise his Lord, saying, “Sleet, bountiful Load of Salt. Congratulations for kelding I from the very mouths of Die…”

Another wave broke upon Tel’rion, and the splotches of darkness left his skin, replaced by the burning of salt’s purification and a faint scarring in the scale pattern that spoke of wounds long healed and forgotten. When the spray cleared, the outcast was able to see everything clearly, his vision bright and crisp. Smiling, he bowed his head low and declared, “And praise you, Salt, for restoring my vision to me. And my mind as well, it seems. Truly, your works are wonderful.”

A third wave slammed into the penitent Drakel, filling his open mouth with brine. Spitting this out happily and noticing no effect, though sure that there was one, he continued unperturbed, “Thank you as well, my Lord, for this new blessing you have bestowed upon me. Thank you most of all for the honor which I presume, from your other generosity, is to be mine; the honor of being your Champion, oh great Lord of Salt.”

Yet again did a wave crash down upon the outcast, this time with an angry force that drove him from his sandbar and out into the open ocean. As the endless waters closed over him, Tel’rion heard a bemused voice in his mind, a voice as deep and timeless as the sea.

Know no fear, Champion, and fight in whatever name you will. You are mine, regardless of what your addled mind may wish.

Tel’rion coughed out salt water upon the red sand the wave washed him onto, leaving him curled up in the fetal position as he gasped for air. Rising unsteadily to his knees, he found himself leaning on his restored staff, the gentle sloshing of its weight assuring him that its crystalline walls were not only restored but also replenished, containing once more its solution of water saturated with the deadly Dragonsalt. Pleased, he raised himself up onto his feet and turned, surveying the small chamber in which he found himself. It was a plain place, with a rather common door on one end that, presumably, led out of the complex.

The gate on the other end of the room, however, was far from common. As large as the chamber itself, the great metal doors opened up to a huge waterfall, pleasing and almost calming despite its purpose. Any Champion for Water would have been filled with pride at the sight, but the Salt Mage simply sniffed disapprovingly as he strode out through the gates towards it; he knew the scent of honest sea water, and this Pillar was… fresh. Pure water, abomination though that was.

Tel’rion strode out onto the sun warmed red sands of the arena, the grains pleasantly hot against his clawed feet. All his equipment was made whole once more, his dazzling white robes and his blue belt and trim as sharp and new as they had been when he entered Cellar that day… with but one exception. The blue bag on his back, that which contained his life’s work, still bore the hole and the black stain from his enemy’s treacherous attack, as did the tome within it. Luckily, the outcast was unable to see, and was blissfully unaware of the condition of his beloved dissertation.

Instead of gazing out over the rest of the arena, the Drakel’s entire focus was on his own Pillar, giving it a disgusted look. “No representation at all, my Lord,” he muttered angrily as he made his way round, looking in disdain at the dainty, freshwater fish that frolicked in the Pillar’s cascade. “A great Tournament of the Elements, and not one speck of that which makes Water special… which is responsible for Water’s existence in the first place.” Louder, with growing resolve, he added, “No Champion, not ever, save me.”

The Champion of Salt squared his shoulders to the Great Arena, his staff planted firmly in the sand as he turned his defiant gaze to the other competitors. “With your aid, Lord, I will change that. Soon, all the world shall know your name.”

AQ	Post #: 10

8/5/2009 12:40:48

TormentedDragon
Member

His howl ended, his challenge made clear, and he returned his attention the arena, golden eyes watching as each of the Champions emerged to take their place. To his left, water was the last to show, a strange creature this, and smelling of brine, in sharp contrast to the scent of his pillar. A crimson ear turned towards him, registering disapproval in his voice. His mouth snapped shut, his head turned on its side in the classic wolfen expression of puzzlement. Did this champion not like his position?

The words were not entirely clear at this distance, even for ears such as his, but he made out enough, enough to pique his curiosity. A Champion of Water thought his Lord unrepresented, when a massive example of water in its purest form thundered beside him. Was the lizard blind? Or did he have a rational explanation? Warrior though he was, the Firewolf could not resist the question. He rose off his haunches, gave himself a good shake, and leapt into a run.

It was not, perhaps, the best way to approach someone you wanted to have a discussion with, for the sight of a crimson wolf the size of a small bear charging across red sands in your direction is, at the least, unsettling. It is even more unsettling when four bounds into the run the wolf's paws and tail light on fire. But then, who said you couldn't have a friendly discussion over a clash of arms (or, in this case, elements)?

His voice went ahead of him, speaking rather literally in what passed for an ear on the body of the Lizard. "Tell me, oh Champion of Water, what it is that displeases you so? Is not your position one of honor?"

Post #: 11

8/5/2009 19:16:23

Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer

The other Champions had emerged. Elian took a moment to glances from one to the next curiously, his sword and shield lowering as he inspected his competition. He noted nearby man, standing near the Pillar of Shadows, and grimaced slightly as he recognized the man whom he had aided in the Fountain Arena. The shadowmage had turned on him in the end, and the Defender was less than pleased by that. Eli's sense of honor was affronted by the betrayal, and he would be certain to watch the shadowmage more carefully this time, the man would not get a second chance to to stab Elian in the back.

He paused in his perusal of the competition, struck by the sight of the creature before the Fire Pillar, a great red wolf. The Defender watched for a moment, almost mesmerized as the great beast bounded easily across the sands towards the Pillar of Waters. The young man grinned at the sight, admiring the smooth gait of the creature, before moving himself. While the fiery canine moved towards a nearby Pillar, Elian took a different tactic entirely. Spinning his sword easily, he started forward at a slow saunter straight towards the center of the Arena. While doing so would put him right in the middle of an action, making him the target for the other competitors, in the end that was really where he would rather be, in the thick of the fighting than on the sidelines watching.

Perhaps he was getting himself in over his, but then, he was young, Chosen, and invincible, besides, there was something appealing about getting in over your head, and for a Defender, the more opponents, the better.

Post #: 12

8/5/2009 20:51:15

Krey
Member

Grey's eyes remained on the crowd for only a brief moment, before he returned them to the arena around him. All the combatants had arrived, and it was time to start the show. A quick look over the combatants, and it wasn't long before they locked upon the man across the sands from him. The Light Champion, and beside him, the Pillar of Light. He had nothing to fear from this foe; for where there was light, there was shadow. Regardless of what he was capable of, what power he held, he could not drown out the shadows.

They would swallow him up, and the rest would follow.

Smiling, Grey stepped forward... and about the same time, so did Elian. He frowned. After stabbing him in the back in the Fountain arena, he really didn't want to be sidetracked by the Wind Champion when he had something else in mind. He'd have to keep a close eye on him, make sure to keep a good distance. That way, if he did throw anything Jon's way, he'd be able to react and counter it.

In the meantime, he had other goals. If the Wind Champion decided to attack him, he'd react in kind, and the young warrior would find himself overwhelmed by the shadows. Otherwise, he'd continue with his initial plan. Jon let him go, and once he was well out of the way, started on a path towards the Light Champion. He would first pass between the Wind Pillar and its Champion, keeping a fair distance from each while his senses remained wary. Then would come Ice, and if he was allowed to pass without incident, he would continue on to pass by the Pillar of Energy before arriving at the Light Pillar. And then, the fun would begin.

< Message edited by Krey -- 8/5/2009 20:54:26 >

AQ	Post #: 13

8/5/2009 21:34:27

qbsuperstar03
Member

Truly, this Grand Finals is one of monstrosities, Cryoface notes as yet another one of the many races that made Lore such an exciting place to live in decided to introduce itself. From the looks of it (though it is hard to tell from the distortion of light through the Pillar of Water), the last Champion appears to be one of the race known to flesh-forms as the "Drakel." A noble and powerful race, indeed, capable of great feats by combining magic with a force known as "science" to create an entirely new source of power. Cryoface doesn't know the word, but whatever it is, it's responsible for such novel inventions as their signature Power Armor.

There was no point in an honorless victory, but in an arena battle, declarations of enmity could be dispensed with. Everyone on the sands knows that everyone else is there for one reason: To claim victory at the expense of the hopes and dreams, and often the lives, of the others. Seeing the Wind Champion move towards the center of the arena, Cryoface decides on an unorthodox tactic: The sneak attack. Instead of trying to overcome the target with power and technique, this approach instead attempts to maximize damage per hit while minimizing the risk of injury from sustained combat by going straight for the vitals with the first shot.

Leaving a trail reminiscent of a giant constrictor snake, Cryoface makes his move, trying to get behind the Defender. However, the Snow Warrior estimates he can only risk moving a third of the way to the Pillar of Wind before being seen as a threat by anyone. This move has two beneficial aspects: He gets a better sight of the back of his target, while simultaneously moving away from the Energy and Light Champions. And should this Champion of Wind somehow deflect or otherwise survive the attack, Cryoface would enjoy a distinct advantage in the fight that would undoubtedly ensue, being inherently resistant to wind-based attacks, so long as he switches weapons in time to enjoy an intense melee against one armed with a sword and shield.

One shot, then switch to the sword to finish the fight, Cryoface tells himself as he prepares to fire at Elias's left kidney. As he recalls the lessons taught to him by the Moglins who built the bow, the chosen soldier of the Ice Lord releases his arrow.

Post #: 14

8/5/2009 23:14:02

Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer

He walked forward fearlessly, eyes straying for a moment to the monumental oak that was the Pillar of Earth. Elian had heard a great number of stories concerning the old battle-scarred tree, and of its quicksilver guardian. He didn't believe all of them, but there were enough consistencies in them that he decided to stay well away from the tree and it's immortal guard.

There was a roar from the crowd, not that the Arena wasn't raucous as it was with people screaming for blood and death from the Champions. Eli hadn't thought it possible, and yet, from behind him the roar of the crowd increased, getting yet louder. The young Defender began to turn towards the noise, his eyes passing quickly from competitor to competitor as he did so. The wolf, paws aflame, as it loped towards the Drakel, then the shadowmage, who was moving past the Pillar of Winds, and-.

A flash, and he reacted more on instinct than on any real sight or cue of what was coming. His left arm snapped up in front of him, and Elian dropped to one knee. There was a harsh metallic pinging followed by a crystalline tinkling. The Defender frowned slightly, and lifted his shield slightly, angling it forward and pushing it's tip into the sand before drawing it back towards him. He darted a quick glance downwards to observe the remains of what looked to be a projectile formed of ice. His gaze flicked upwards, towards the Ice Pillar, and to the strange creature there.

It was, well, it was a snowman... Eli stood, a bit taken aback by this, but accepting it quickly, after all, who was he to judge who was and wasn't worthy to participate in a tourney where the Lords themselves choose their representatives. He stood, grinning at the strange bow-wielding creature, and hammered the flat of his blade against his shield in salute. "Champion of Ice, I am Elian Gonzales, Defender of Winds! I accept your challenge!" The blade swung, leveling at the icy creature as the young man shouted. "Ventas Servitas!" The ball of wind rocketed down his blade and soared across the sands towards the Champion of Ice, kicking up a trail of red sand in its wake.

Post #: 15

8/6/2009 17:15:50

Geddesmck
Member

Judging by the appearance of some of his fellow finalists, Zenz came to the conclusion that the Elemental Lords cared not how their champions looked. Aside from himself only three of the other champions were human, or at least looked human. He recognised two of them from Fountain Arena; the heavily armoured Wind Champion Elian and the duster wearing Darkness Champion Jonathan. The other human stood to Zenz’s right, next to the Light pillar; the platinum haired Light Champion Blaze.

The other champions were more unusual, an extremely large wolf took the position of Fire Champion, a Drakel was the Water Champion (although, he didn’t seemed overly impressed by the Water pillar), a massive snow creature took its place as Ice Champion and, perhaps strangest of all, a gigantic moglin-like creature appeared to be the Energy Champion. As Zenz watched, the Energy Champion, which the announcer had called Galvian, pounded its chest and roared. It might have born some resemblance to a moglin, but the feral strength it radiated told Zenz that it was a predator.

Zenz frowned. Without his armour he felt entirely too vulnerable and was not keen to attack any of the other champions. On the other hand, he couldn’t exactly sit back and do nothing; that was a sure way to end up getting hit by a surprise attack.

He sent threads of magic into the ground around him, searching for something to give himself an advantage. He felt a jolt of power run through his body as one of the threads came in contact with the Earth pillar’s roots. It rapidly dawned on Zenz that the eternal tree was essentially an unlimited source of energy for him. He was extremely tempted to tap into that energy, but, glancing at the silver guardian, he decided that he wouldn’t do so unless it was necessary.

At his mental command, a cluster of small, sharp rocks rose into the air in front of Zenz. He’d decided on a target, but instead of going to them, he’d attempt to bring them to him. Why should Zenz move when he was in such an advantageous position?

Turning slightly to the right, Zenz threw his arms forward. The swarm of small rocks flew as fast as arrows towards their target; the chiat Energy Champion. It wasn’t likely that the rocks would cause much damage to the bestial finalist, but hopefully it would attract its attention and bring it charging at Zenz.

The Earth Champion’s right hand found its way to his long sword as he waited for his chosen enemies counter-attack. Around him the other champions were making their own opening moves. The finals had truly begun.

Post #: 16

8/6/2009 21:28:27

ringulreith
Member

Blaze smiled. All the champions had arrived. Now the fight could begin. He knew that he could die this day, that his blood could become one with the sand, that he would probably never return from this crimson battlefield; but he also knew that if he were to survive, to make it through alive, he would gain his lord’s greatest honor; and for this, he fought. He fought for his lord, and his lord only. Not for glory, not for fame; no, those things were below him. He fought for the greatest honor that he could ever attain; the favor of his lord. So he faced the arena, in its entirety, with a steady heart and a stern determination.

His eyes flitted from pillar to pillar, from champion to champion, examining everything. He noted that there seemed to be as much non-humans as there were humans; something he did not expect. He also noted that ice, wind, fire, and, most importantly, darkness all had moved. The latter seemed to be focusing on him, and him alone. It was expected, however, for light and darkness had been enemies since time immemorial. The wind champion was situated at the center of the arena, dueling the snowman in some sort of ranged combat. Finally, the fire wolf was bounding towards water, a lizard-like drakel. As he took in all of this, he was setting about in preparation.

He opened his mind to the magic twisting about around him, following curving paths of arcane energy through the air, down his katana, and into the sun insignia carved in the center of it. As his mind entered the sun insignia, he felt energy rush through his body. Light spun about around his mental presence, soothing yet dangerous, ready to move at any command. Assured that his pool of magic was still complete, Blaze slowly drew his mind out of the magical storage device. Just before he left it, his mind grabbed on to a small amount of light, dragging the light with it as it exited. His mind once more traveled through the air, this time heading for the base of his katana, wrapping the light it had taken around the shiny metal. Then Blaze closed off his mind, returning to his surroundings.

His work done, he began to walk forward, katana poised for a strike, shield held forward. Sunlight glanced off his breastplate and sward as he proceeded towards the center of the arena, boots crunching on the sand with every step he took. He had come here to fight for his lord, so why remain hiding near his pillar, when he could be in the heat of the fray?

< Message edited by ont -- 8/10/2009 19:43:29 >

Post #: 17

8/6/2009 21:50:37

Clyde
Legendary Artist!

Everyone was going at it now. Each Champion had their own enemy in this battle. The Snow-warrior and the Defender. The Light and the Darkness Champion. Maybe the Firewolf and the Drakel. He cared little for the race of his opponents. What counted most was their fighting spirit and will to live. Everything else was just a formality.

Galvian did not want to fight any of the Sky Contenders again, not so early on in the competition. His first plan was to attack the first who let their guard down with a quick bolt to let their opponent finish them off. He had hoped everyone would get caught up in their own little fight to not even notice his attacks.

It was wasted. The Earth Champion initiated the fight, having sent a few sharp rocks to possibly catch Galvian's attention.

"Humph," He thought as he dodged them with a roll to the left. "Typical Earth fighters. Always keeping a distance from their opponents, trying to play the defense. Well I'm not a fish and the bait isn't good enough." His attention was now towards the attacker.

Energy sparked between his fingers, he pointed at the Earth Champion before waving. It was a taunt; a test of his composure. Galvian had to draw him away from his pillar of Earth by any means necessary. While waving he began to back up to show his opponent that he was going to move on soon. Hoping he would follow Galvian would try to even the fight out a bit because they would both be away from their respected pillars.

Though as he was backing away strands of his fur were beginning to fall to the ground. While the heat from the sun and the sand was aiding this, it was a trap one Galvian used to use with rope or even wire. If the enemy had stepped in the floor trap he made he would send electricity through it. He knew there was a chance it would not work, but he wanted to give it a shot. This one was a prototype, he had never used his fur to connect the electricity.

"It's time to uproot you, Earth Champion." He smiled as a flood of ideas filled his head.

Post #: 18

8/7/2009 13:00:06

qbsuperstar03
Member

Among the many good things about Cryoface's anatomy, mobility and agility are not on the list. Still, an inherent resistance to wind-based attacks is what he is counting on to survive this battle with minimal damage. And yet Cryoface has to give the Defender credit for being surprisingly fast and agile, hallmarks of his religion, despite being more heavily armored than your stereotypical Wind Champion.

Cryoface instead lets the wind attack hit his chest plate, to try to intimidate this upstart who dares to question the supremacy of the Ice Lord. As he puts away his Frostbow in favor of his Ice Katana, he moves forward towards the Defender. Getting past that shield and scale armor is going to be difficult, but nobody ever says that winning a tournament like this is easy.

"I am glad that you are one that believes in declarations of enmity," Cryoface says in a voice that sounds like thin ice breaking. "It proves that some flesh-forms still believe in the rules of honor. I apologize for the surprise attack, but since we both know what we have been brought here for, let us dispense with the normal rules and get on with this fight."

As Cryoface speaks, he considers his options. His Snowball is most effective against lightly armored or unarmored foes, and this target does not qualify. An Iceball would take too long to charge, and there is no place to hide while doing so. Ice Dragon Spirit is foolish as he isn't being double-teamed...at least, not at the current time. As planned, the only escape is in winning in melee combat.

Gripping his Ice Katana in a kendo stance as he advances, Cryoface wonders what the Champion of Wind will do. Will he run away, take advantage of his speed and try to wear down the Snow Warrior? Or will he stand and fight like one should, at least in the Snow Warrior's mindset, when both fighters have melee weapons drawn?

Post #: 19

8/7/2009 17:09:00

Geddesmck
Member

Galvian dodged Zenz’s opening attack with unexpected ease. More surprising was that the creature didn’t make a sudden counter-attack, instead waving towards Zenz. Was he taunting the Earth Champion?

Zenz quickly realised he had severely misjudged his opponent. He had seen what appeared to be some kind of monster and, wrongly it seemed, assumed that it would be an instinct driven being. Its actions suggested that rather than being an unintelligent, feral beast, it was actually cunning and thoughtful, an opponent Zenz would have to be wary of.

It was obvious that the Chiat wanted to draw Zenz away from the Earth pillar, something the substitute champion was loath to do. He didn’t want to take his eye of his adversary, but risked a quick glance towards the silver guardian. From the stories he had read and the tales he had been told, Zenz knew that the guardian did not let anyone but the Earth champion approach the great tree. He reasoned that the other finalist would be aware of this fact, which meant the chances of anyone getting close to him were slim.

A particularly vulgar curse (learnt from the dwarves) escaped Zenz’s lips. It seemed that if he wanted a fight he would have to sacrifice his position of strength. He pulled his threads of magic from the surrounding area, feeling a strong sense of loss the moment he lost his connection to the Earth pillar, before beginning a cautious advance towards the Energy pillar.

Some of Zenz’s attention was diverted by the Light Champion, who was advancing towards the centre of the arena, but he quickly crossed Zenz’s path without incident. Zenz was painfully aware of his lack of armour and, although he was taller and more powerfully built than his opponent, he wasn’t confident enough to get into a fair fight.

Spreading a web of magic threads into the sand before him, Zenz prepared his second attack. With a flick upwards of his wrists, the Earth Champion brought a cloud of crimson sand up before him, before sending this cloud towards Galvian. As it approached the Energy Champion, the cloud picked up more sand in its path.

The primary intention of Zenz’s attack was to simply distract the Chiat, but it had another effect, one Zenz was not even aware of. Along with the thin upper layer of sand Galvian had walked upon, his shed fur was pulled into the cloud, negating the Energy Champion’s clever trap.

The distance between Zenz and Galvian had about halved, but rather than charge forward, the Earth Champion pulled a fist size rock from below the arena’s surface and prepared to fire it into the cloud of sand towards his foe.

Post #: 20

8/7/2009 21:02:52

Krey
Member

The Darkness Champion cursed. The Champions that he was passing by were ignoring him, as he'd hoped. His target, however, was doing the same, and heading for the center of the arena rather than moving to meet him. Perhaps not a surprise... But a setback nonetheless. Or was it?

Halfway between the energy and light pillars, a grin crossed Grey's features as an idea crept into his mind. His foe had his back turned, as he was heading towards the center of the arena. It was a perfect position for the corrupted warrior to take advantage of, and he had every intention of doing so. The demon within him supplemented his own concentration as he put his plan into action.

Blaze's shadow began to stir. It shifted, such that it was in front of him, and then rose up before him to take on the shape of an unarmed man. The dark figure held fast to Blaze's own shadow, and its right arm reared back before throwing a fist at the Light Champion's face. It wouldn't harm him any, as the shadow was insubstantial. Still, it would likely serve as adequate distraction, since there was know way to know without physically testing. Meanwhile, Grey moved from behind, breaking into a headlong dash at his intended victim. As he moved, he held his right arm—and with it, the entire right side of his body—back, blade at the ready for a strike.

Even as the shadowy figure threw its fist at Blaze, Jon came from behind and shifted his weight to the opposite side so that the right would move forward. He dropped to his left knee, so that it and both his feet slid through the sands, bringing him to a stop within a foot of the Light Champion. As his weight shifted, he swung his right arm around inward, so that the shadowy blade which stretched forth swept at Blaze's knees.

AQ	Post #: 21

8/8/2009 0:15:11

Clyde
Legendary Artist!

Galvian grinned as the Earth Champion was beginning to approach him. Only half of his plan had worked, but he was happy with the smaller victories. Zenz had retaliated with a wave of sand which unfortunately had messed up his little trap. The sand wave was growing larger as it moved in towards Galvian, but he already had an idea in store.

He was getting slightly irritated with all the weak attacks. They were either devious tricks or something to slow Galvian down. Well, if it was a fight the Earth Champion wanted then that was what he was going to get. As the sand wave was approaching options of escaping were beginning to dwindle. He would have to get creative, and fast if he wanted to escape this alive. The energy charged in his hands were going to be the key to this.

When sand becomes heated quickly it becomes glass. With that in mind Galvian rushed his left arm forward aiming the blast at the center base of the sand wave and would drive it up. It had worked, the center changed to glass dividing the sand wave in half, two directions away from Galvian.

Glass is an insulator. Meaning he would have no affect on his creation and with his opponent being an Earth user he could possibly break the glass pillar. Using it at as a defense as one thing, but Galvian intended on using it as a chance to by time.

No. He was done playing the defensive, instead he would force the offense. First he clapped his hands together, keeping the energy at a balance back and forth for both arms. His eyes shut, his breathing steadied until he counted to ten. Afterwards he turned his body over to the right or on Zenz' left, going on nothing more then a guess he shot a weak bolt on energy from his right hand. Muttering, "One."

He turned back, his body leaning against the glass pillar before turning to the left and shooting another weak bolt. "Two;" this was now like a Western-style shootout, but Galvian didn't have six shots in his revolver.

The first two shots were merely guess shots a shot in the dark, but the main purpose was to find his opponent's location. The next shot would be dead on if Galvian was lucky. He performed the same move before, but this shot was powered hopefully the last shot he would need to take.

"Three," He leaped right from the glass pillar and hopefully away enough to not be hit in the aftermath if the Earth Champion did shatter it. Acknowledging that standing in one place for too long is a bad idea, Galvian readied himself to rush in and finish the job if need be. If Zenz were to get more offensive then the idea of retreating lingered in his mind. This opponent was new to him and he didn't know what to expect. Keeping to close may be dangerous.

Post #: 22

8/8/2009 10:18:50

Guardian of Nekops
Member

Tel’rion was no fighter… far from it, in fact. His instincts, apparently, were not lacking in that regard, but he had no experience, no training; he was not willing to trust his life to these new, untested skills.

What the Salt Mage did possess was a good, scholarly mind, and he put that to work now. It told him that surveying the arena was all well and good, but that it was a game for spectators… as entertaining as the big picture might be, it was the dagger in one’s back that was important. With his back against the wall, that first blow was likely to come either from his immediate right or from his immediate left; his distance from the other competitors provided him a second level of protection, by no means absolute, but enough to let him ignore them for now.

The outcast’s eyes were pulled naturally to the scarier of those two possibilities, a vast monument of that same dark power that had so recently infested his body and mind. The black pit that was the Pillar of Darkness clouded his mind even as it stung, and his mouth filled with a sickly sweet taste that filled him with nausea.

Staggering away from this disturbing sight and relying on his staff’s hold on the arena sand to keep him tethered, Tel’rion squeezed his eyes shut and looked down to his clawed feet, retching dryly as the symptoms refused to immediately go away. Gathering up his courage, he cracked one eye open and looked back up towards the Pillar, seeking the fell Champion of such power. Though this was a delicate, slow affair because he did not wish to run afoul of the Pillar again, but eventually he did manage to spy the Champion for Darkness. This man hardly looked better off than the madman in Cellar… shadow consumed his arm, grafted to the flesh in an unnatural union.

I will never understand these crazed humans, he thought, revolted by the idea. Who would willingly serve such a master, wield such a corrupting power…

It was then that Tel’rion heard a voice in his ear, calling him the Champion of Water and asking if he was not proud to serve that pretender. Snarling both at this and at the fact that someone was behind him, he swung around to face the voice, using the butt of his imbedded staff as a pivot. To his surprise, he saw a huge wolf, as red as the sand beneath his feet, barreling towards him in great running leaps. If the fiery Pillar that burned its way into the Salt Mage’s retinas was not sufficient to betray this creature’s alignment, then the flames which engulfed its paws and tail left no doubt.

“They let beasts compete in this tournament?” he scoffed, unbelieving as the hellhound approached, growing closer and closer with each bound. Thrusting his staff forward towards the charging animal, he willed about half of his dissolved Dragonsalt forth. The water that contained the deadly compound swirled up within the staff to stream out from the metal Drakel mouth. The mass of liquid flew through the air slowly, lumbering, and with many corrections in its course, threatening to fall apart at every turn but never actually spilling a drop. If the attack met its target, if would be because the charging animal struck it rather than the other way round.

Sensing that the staff was less than full, the Drakel-made device that was the head clanked noisily to life, steam rising from its ears and nostrils as it began to pull new water in from the air. In such a humid area as here, around the Pillar of Water, the crystalline container would be completely refilled in a few minutes.

Tel’rion spat at his feet as, with effort, he controlled the stream of brine with his thoughts. “Know your place, cur,” he cried out across the sands to the beast of Fire, “and know your enemy. I am Salt, I am De'me'thar, and I will put you down!”

AQ	Post #: 23

8/8/2009 11:27:34

Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer

The Defender made known no sign of displeasure at the fact that his ranged assault had clearly done nothing. Afterall, his spell wasn't really intended to cause injury anyways, but rather to provide a defense against projectiles, or to knock an opponent off balance. Elian watched as the Champion of Ice wormed it's way forward towards him, and Elian made no move to approach the creature, allowing it to waste the energy required to come to him, not that it would be that great of an expenditure really. It was more psychological than anything, making him appear passive to the Ice Champion so that his attack would come as a surprise.

From the corner of his eye, he noted the approach of another, but that was a concern for a later time, his focus was devoted mostly on the icy creature before him, a katana held before it. The Champion of Ice spoke to him, and Eli couldn't help but grin at its words, sensing something of a kindred spirit in the creature. "This may not be the venue for an honorable duel, man-to-man. Yet, I think you are a creature that understands honor, and honor dictates thus. I have given you my name, it is only fitting that I have yours in return."

He waited only a split second for a response from the Ice Champion before he burst into sudden motion, the kite shield that he had held before him flashing up in a wild arc, a distraction for what followed next. He sword snapped up, emerging from beneath the covering feint of the shield for a lock-arm thrust at the ice creature's midsection. At the last moment the blade shifted, the thrust attack changing to a slash as Eli turned with his shield, sword rising in a diagonal slash across his opponent's body, the razored tip of his kite shield whistling around to strike towards the Champion of Ice's neck.

Post #: 24

8/8/2009 13:56:26

qbsuperstar03
Member

"My name? You already heard it from the announcer, but..."

Cryoface's taunting response is cut short by the Wind Champion's sudden attack. Just like the element he represents, Elian's attacks and mood changes are apparently equally swift. However, Cryoface has experience in combat such as this, and though his hands are still gripping the hilt of his katana, he still has one trick up his sleeve. The Snow Warrior moves his sword to the side to slap down the chop at his armored midsection (the fact that Cryoface is holding his sword in two hands makes this an easy task against a one-handed swing), but Cryoface is not prepared for what comes next. Startled once he figures it out, Cryoface breaks off crossing the swords and leans back, letting the shield breeze past its target by the narrowest of margins.

Enraged by the seeming fact that this shield is usable as a weapon, Cryoface counters with a throaty exhalation after thrusting his upper body forward like a striking cobra to tip the scales of fate more towards his favor for this next maneuver: His Freezing Breath attack, a short-range breath weapon derived from the same technique of the mightiest ice elementals such as Avalurches, taking the form of a blast of air that can frost over almost anything. Though it is only guaranteed to be useful in very close quarters, it might give Elian something to think about should he try to move in close like that again.

Finally, now is a good time to give a little speech, and maybe do some trash-talking. "I am Cryoface the Snow Warrior, a carefully sculpted soldier given life by the Ice Lord himself. By his divine providence I have been awakened from an inanimate state, and through his guidance I shall prevail through all hardships."

Returning to a neutral guard, Cryoface finishes the prayer with a shot from the hip at his enemy. "And what are you to me but another hardship?"

Post #: 25

Page: [1] 2 3 next > >>

All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> The Championships >> =Elemental Championships 2009= Grand Finals

Page 1 of 3

Jump to:

Icon Legend

New Messages	No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages	Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages	Locked w/o New Messages

Post New Thread

Reply to Message

Post New Poll

Submit Vote

Delete My Own Post

Delete My Own Thread

Rate Posts

Forum Content Copyright © 2018 Artix Entertainment, LLC.

"AdventureQuest", "DragonFable", "MechQuest", "EpicDuel", "BattleOn.com", "AdventureQuest Worlds", "Artix Entertainment"
and all game character names are either trademarks or registered trademarks of Artix Entertainment, LLC. All rights are reserved.
PRIVACY POLICY