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RE: =EC 2017= Forge Arena

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8/9/2017 22:25:04   
deathlord45
Member

That was quicker than it should have been, Four Arms is either very good or the Armored One is just utterly terrible. Blade to the side of the head, that is something I'll have to look out for, don't plan on ending up a corpse on the floor.

“I was hoping one of you would have finished the other. What I wasn’t expecting was it being over that fast.”

Pulling the knife from his left boot Edward settled into a wider stance with his left arm facing his current opponent, the knife in a reverse grip and sword raised up to face level. This was a fight Edward wasn’t prepared for, four arms were something new, something very inhuman, a twisted facsimile of a smile appeared on his face at the prospect of fighting and maybe killing something so very different.

One of us is going to die today, my monies on you Four Arms. Disable the arms lower then upper followed by its legs if I can. As well as avoid the Armored One's corpse, alive or dead something just lying on the ground is hazard.

“I wouldn’t say it was just us now. There is still one other fight still going on.”
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 26
8/9/2017 23:00:41   
Dragonknight315
Member

“Well Archer, I suppose it’s you and me now.”

Those were the words Alastasia were waiting for. She broke her performance, peeking at Teras to see if the coast was clear. He was a few steps to her side, the bug facing her former opponent with a calm assurance. It worked! Her body relaxed as to give a mental sigh. With those two distracted, she could finally have a moment to rest, albeit a brief one. If the bug’s handywork was anything to go by, the fight wouldn’t last long, and it was only a matter of time before they engaged. She knew that she had to recompose herself if she were to stand a chance. She felt lightheaded having lost half of her fluids on just surviving; she couldn’t afford any other mistakes.


“What is it like?”

She glanced over to the elven huntress, her hood down. Alastasia was sitting atop her bed in her tunic and leggings, the two having returned from another day of hunting. She had grown quite fond of the activity, something new to keep her mind sharp and body fit. Furthermore, it was food on the table, and even if Alastasia could survive on nothing but water, her friends couldn’t. Besides, a warm meal just felt right.

Lunara was standing across the room in her usual garb, a solid black cloak over leather armor. She was seldom found in anything else, preferring to even sleep in it as to always be ready. Old habits die hard, Alastasia figured. What else could she expect of a former assassin?

“What is what like, Lunara?” The elf held a vast amount of knowledge for her age, though she was only a couple years older than Alastasia. It was strange; She couldn’t remember the last time Lunara asked a question.

“You. What is it like being. . . you? Your body?”

Alastasia thought for a moment before extending her hand, beckoning Lunara over. When Lunara drew close, Alastasia stood up. “Don’t move.” She reached for the elf’s short and pointy ear, giving it a swift tug. Lunara winced and stepped back, swatting Alastasia’s hand. “What was that for?!”

“ A demonstration.” She reached for her own earlobe and pulled, the skin stretching with pink slime filling the gap. “Imagine if it just kept going.” Lunara watched as she tugged a little further, and the slime kept growing until it was a foot long. “There is no pain, no tightness, just a warmth that keeps on and on until it’s so far away you can’t feel it anymore.” As Alastasia let go, the slime receded, twisting as her ear returned to normal.

“Put your arm out as far as you can.” Lunara gave a shy nod and complied. Her arm forward, Alastasia reached out and turned over her hand, touching her wrist and bicep.

“Feel the tension along bones, how it all locks up? What if. . . it disappeared?” At that moment, the hand on her wrist transformed. From the fingertips to the middle of her forearm, the flesh melted, rippling until it gave way to a solid pink slime. It looked[i/] like a hand, imitating the shape and structure, but it stirred and throbbed like waves in a puddle. Lunara quivered from the sensation as the warm slime slid against her skin. Alastasia let go of Lunara and held up her transformed hand.

“At first, it feels small. Tiny, insignificant, the basic part that makes me. . . me. Whatever that is, I notice it, and I can change it. From there, the feeling grows, from one bit to another and another, until I can feel every inch of my body moving, changing, listening.”

“Listening?” Lunara glared at her with a puzzled look.

“There is only so much that a solid body can do. Rigid, fixed. . . But this, there’s so much more. It’s like I can do anything.[i/]”

As she spoke, she balled her fist, her fingers combining into a single mass. The slime worked its way down until her entire limb was one large tentacle, twisting as she spun it in place.

“But it’s not so much what I feel–” Alastasia raised her normal hand and and placed her fingertips against the viscous slime. “– but what I don’t.” As she pushed her fingertips in, the slime seemed to bend around them, conforming to the insertion. “I can’t feel my fingers here, only a void where they should be.”

Lunara looked on with awe as the process unfolded before her. Alastasia smirked, satisfied with her performance. “It’s powerful, almost addictive, having that control. . . but really, it all happens so fast.” Without a word, the slime snapped back into its original shape, her digits reforming as patches of skin started to resurface. “I barely notice it anymore. It’s just part of me if that makes sense.”

“I think so. . .” Lunara nodded. “Thank you.” For the first time in months, Alastasia could make out a smile on the elf’s face. Years ago, she would have felt sickened by her ‘abnormality,’ a blight on her family. But she was grown now. Her friends didn’t see her that way, and to Alastasia, that was all that mattered.


Alastasia focused on the slime oozing from her shoulder and temple. She could feel part of her will slipping away with every second, the heat of the Forge slowly evaporating it. She tugged on what was left, willing it back under her control. Its flow stopped and reversed, slowly crawling to her wounds. It would take a moment to fully recover, but she felt her strength return, and with it, her will to fight.
AQ DF AQW  Post #: 27
8/10/2017 0:32:37   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Teras eyed Archer speculatively. There were a number of weapons hanging from the tall human’s form, including the eponymous bow and quiver, along with a hand axe. The sword in Archer’s hand was cruciform, with an elongated hilt the Basilli judged allowed for one- or two-handed use. For some reason his opponent paired the weapon with a dagger drawn from a boot. The axe would have been a better choice against the bounty hunter’s natural armor. Then again, Archer had probably never come across anything like Teras before.

Not that the Iron Mantis was inclined to give his foe any enlightenment in that regard. Archer would just have to figure things out for himself, though Teras’ lips twitched at the man’s words. On the subject of enlightenment… “Neither were they. That’s why they’re on the ground and I’m not.” The Basilli Phas rolled his neck slowly, eliciting a series of satisfactory pops as the vertebrae realigned. “And I suppose that is true enough, though I’m disinclined to interrupt such a… lovely duet.”

He stumbled over the last phrase, expression transforming from the half-smile to a frown. His unease had returned: a nagging insistence at the back of his mind that something was not right here. The feeling was subtle, elusive, and Teras could not quite touch on the source of that dissonance. Forcing it away again, the mercenary manufactured a grin. “Never fear. I promise you have my undivided attention.”

With that, the Iron Mantis lifted his blades and charged. If Archer had been paying attention, he would have seen two such charges now. Previously Teras had rushed at his foes and then turned, angling his momentum into almost a pirouette as the sellsword slashed at his target. It would not have been out of the question to expect a similar maneuver at this point, or a more straightforward bullrush designed to knock his opponent off-balance and push him into the Forge pillar.

Instead the Basilli dropped; pivoting as he went down, the bounty hunter planted his right arms and swung his left leg out in a sweeping kick aimed at Archer’s leading leg. The spiked greaves would be unforgiving on his opponent’s apparently unarmored shin and knee. Depriving Archer of mobility and balance would make for a swift conclusion to this fight as well.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 28
8/10/2017 21:10:24   
draketh99
Purple Armadillo


 ”SMACK”

An uncomfortable reality. Swinging around on ropes, wire, and the like always seemed to go better in one’s head. Anki wasn’t sure if the metallic taste filling their mouth was their own blood or the hunk of iron that they’d run face first into.

Their wire landed true, anchoring onto the shoulder of the contraption just before it turned, swinging them out onto its back, just barely managing to dodge a spiked foot, to boot.

“To boot.” Anki smirked, they had never been much of a fan of puns, except when it meant bothering Nicales with them.

Landing on the contraption’s back was fortuitous, visibility inside of it had appeared to be less than magnificent. Anki dug the spiked fingertips of their gauntlets into the metal, attempting to find purchase and grip. Their feet caught against some sort of metal grates or vents along the back. They gripped and clawed, attempting to make their way up. Confidence built in their chest until something clicked. Something whirred. Anki felt something start to grip at their feet.

“By the architects.” Anki gritted their teeth, swearing.

The strong gusts coming from the vents caught at their feet, pulling at their cloak and before long, at them. They were lifted, feet flying out and twisting out from under them as they began being lifted away from the mech.

Anki locked the spool of wire attached to the shoulder of the contraption. The wire acting as an anchor point, they were flung out and off the back, swinging out and over the shoulder, landing up against the front hatch, smacking hard against metal bars.



“What do you remember of your post, Anki?” Anki looked up from his perch, taken back by the sudden question from Nicales.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said. What do you remember of your post in the prison?”

“Memories are… strange things. From one perspective, I remember my goals, my initiatives. I remember each and every diagram, every map, every cell, and every block. I remember every face of each man, woman and child to pass through those gates. I remember the numbers branded on the backs of their necks. I remember #762 warranting execution. I remember all the things I was supposed to, and yet…”

“And yet….what?”

“And yet, I… Or this body, moreover, remembers other things. It doesn’t remember the faces. The diagrams are blurred, static images and scenes taking precedent over it. It remembers how I felt performing my first execution, or how it felt.

I said it doesn’t remember the faces, but that wasn’t true. It remembers a few. It remembers the face of a small girl, and it remembers the sound she made when she was left alone in that dark cell.

It remembers sounds, tastes, feelings, smells. The musty, rotting smell of the prison, the putrid water we drank. The feeling of overbearing darkness and loneliness. It… It remembers…” Anki’s voice trailed off, they seemed caught between an expression of confusion and discomfort.

“It’s ok, Anki. Let it out. What does it remember?”

“It remembers the taste of the bile rising in its throat. The bile that rose the day we found the face down corpse of that small girl. It remembers the burn in its chest when I had to report that corpse to recycling. It remembers the tendrils that tied to its chest, attempting to prevent sleep for nights to come afterwards.”

“It seems like it fought you during those times, like that duality bore a sharp contrast.”

“It… It most certainly did. There were so many times where it felt like we were two very different beings inhabiting the same space.”

“That’s quite the interesting feeling, almost like being two different people?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Of those two, which one is you?”

“I don’t know. But I know I’m going to find out.”



”SMACK”

An uncomfortable reality. Swinging around on ropes, wire, and the like always seemed to go better in one’s head. Anki’s eyes fluttered, memories surging through their mind. Their purpose for participating in this tournament solidifying in their mind once again.

They peered into the metal bars before them. Whatever was in there was being protected by this shell, and anything being protected by a shell was a protected by a shell was an excellent target.

“It’s my turn, now.

Anki reached out with magnesis at their finer, thin wire. They placed their hand over it and gripped it, causing it to spark and crackle with an arcing blue light. They forced the thin wire in between the bars into the space within the contraption, whipping and thrashing about, hoping to catch, electrocute, and disrupt anything that they could.

“I will speak with the architects, Nicales, I swear of it. I shall return, and I shall be able to tell you who I am.”

DF  Post #: 29
8/11/2017 12:30:17   
deathlord45
Member

More leg shots, can someone be original with their opening attack against me? Is that too much to ask?

With a sigh Edward raises his leg over the oncoming attack from Four Arms. Once Four Arm’s leg had passed he set his foot back down. Edward follows up with a slash from his sword at the back of Four Arm’s ankle while stepping to his left, keeping an eye on his opponent’s upper body as he does so.

"I am truly flattered that I have your undivided attention. I however believe you should stay aware of your surroundings. I wouldn't want to win simply because you weren't paying attention to our surroundings. "
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 30
8/12/2017 12:41:18   
TormentedDragon
Member

A clang on the back, and Ee-nuk grinned. He’d never met anything that was too much a fan of the rear vents. He angled his feet and started pumping, putting the thrust to good use and moving the suit into another run. This one-on-one had been unwieldy, and if the humie were still in action, it’d be better to have distractions - the giant bug and his ongoing scrap seemed like a great thing to go and kick over.

For a brief, brief moment, the music silenced, and all that could be heard were the clangs of feet on stone, the roar of the vents, and the warning chime of the Balance panel flicking from yellow to orange. The fiddle kicked in just as the humie swung back into view and slammed into the hatch. Drums joined as Ee-nuk blinked in surprise and the humie recovered from its stunt, its eyes flicking back open. Pink, he noted - you got that with gobs, sometimes, all pale skin and white-haired and pink-eyed. They never lasted long.

Ee-nuk’s claws wrapped around his personal Boomer’s grip and brought it to bear as the humie pulled at a wire, blue arcing along its length. He pulled the sidecocker back, and the Boomer whirred. “I don’t eat I just devour,” he sang, as the lyrics kicked in, and pulled the trigger just as the wire started whipping about.

Boomer boomed.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 31
8/12/2017 22:25:00   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Archer’s dodge was rather unconventional. Rather than simply hopping backwards out of range of the incoming kick, he instead shifted weight to his back leg and lifted his front limb over the strike. Given that Teras was aiming for his opponent’s knee, the unorthodox maneuver resulted in a rather silly looking lift-and-kick, as though Archer was a one-man chorus line.

Well, the Basilli consoled himself, at least you wounded his pride. He continued turning with the kick’s momentum, feeling a scraping steel kiss across the back of his leg. Point to Archer. The bounty hunter dropped his foot as he turned, putting his weight on his right knee to pivot. Sliding slightly before friction became traction, the Iron Mantis rocked up to his feet.

Teras grunted, leaning on his left leg and letting it bear his weight to test the extent of the injury while he kept an eye on his foe. There was a hint of pain, but it was nothing the Basilli Phas had not dealt with before. The leg would serve, for now.

Dark eyes narrowed as he stared at the passive Archer. The man had not followed up on his counter-attack. As important as positioning was in any given duel, momentum was equally imperative. Archer’s propensity to stand in place and snark, as admirable as it was from a psychological warfare standpoint, was not ideal for actually winning the fight.

Before the Iron Mantis could decide just what to do about his opponent’s seeming indifference to the combat, external factors made that choice irrelevant. A full-body pins-and-needles sensation rippled over the sellsword’s frame. Gritting his teeth, Teras pivoted to get a look at the source of the foreboding omen, though he kept one eye on Archer as he glanced toward the remaining pair of combatants.

Loudmouth, as was his want, was raising a ferocious clangor. The great metal suit was lurching forward in its ungainly run on a path directly towards Teras and Archer. It must have been rather difficult for the little miscreant to see where the thing was headed though. Loudmouth’s current opponent, another diminutive - Why are there so many children here? - entrant, was clinging to the suit’s front grating. No doubt the Kid was trying to silence Loudmouth’s racket.

That was a goal the Basilli Phas could support. Given Archer’s desire to stand about looking pretty, Teras did not think he was going to get a better opportunity to take a shot at Loudmouth than now, while he was distracted with whatever Kid was doing up there.

Sidling left, the Iron Mantis charged, his onslaught taking him away from Archer and out of Loudmouth's own path. Teras winced as he closed with the embattled pair, tightening his grasp on his weapons. Whatever was happening between the two felt like a hot needle being driven into the Basilli’s temple. That’s new…

But there was no time to think about what the sensation might betoken. Loudmouth’s stomping armor lumbered forward, showing no signs of slowing. Going down to one knee, Teras slashed his right-hand blade through a descending arc at the metallic weave encasing the suit’s left leg. Ultimately, the theory behind this strike was the same as his last against Archer: Go for the joints, impede his foe’s movement, and then move in for the kill.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 32
8/12/2017 22:53:41   
deathlord45
Member

That’s odd, should have done a lot more, natural armor perhaps? Either way this should be over soon.

The raucous noise of the goblin and it’s mechanical monstrosity were getting closer at this point. Edward watched as Four Arms disengaged and rushed into a position that would put him to the side of the Machine’s path. The electrical one from earlier was clinging to the front of the Machine in a way that likely blocked out the goblin’s view.

His smile turning into a devious smirk as Edward threw his dagger at Four Arms before charging in low after him. Sword grasped in both hands and slightly in front of himself, blade aimed at where Four Arm's skull and neck meet.

Let’s see how good you really are Four Arms.
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 33
8/13/2017 21:25:29   
  Starflame13
Moderator


 A deep hum reverberated throughout Forge Arena, cutting through the clash of blades and clamor of music, and suddenly the central pillar was awash in golden flames, burning away the smoke and revealing the dazzling sky above them.

It was time.

With a great rush of air, a myriad of multi-colored sprites erupted forth from the gleaming fire, twirling and dancing and spiraling about in the sudden brightness. Then, they scattered, streaking towards a number of the combatants in the arena, marking the Chosen for all to see.

Bodies glowed, brighter and brighter as the lights poured into them. The Chosen rose ever so slightly into the air, casting dancing colors all about them, before exploding into a cascade of flashes and sparks, blinding all others watching. When the eyes of those remaining finally cleared, they had vanished.

The Elemental Lords has made their decisions. Now, the eight Paragons would have their skills and courage tested in the Grand Arena, dueling for the blessing of the Boon. It was time for the Finals to begin!
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 34
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