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8/13/2023 18:13:11   
nield
Creative!


Here we go! Mothly charges at me with a feral screech and I just can’t help as a grin suffuses my face. Ah, this is more like it~

As it gets close, the creature detaches its lantern and grabs it with a foot. Well, that makes life a little more interesting doesn’t it?

I toss aside the rope, if the blade got stuck in Old Man Stinky, who’s to say it won’t in Mothly too?

The creature goes for a savage kick with its free leg. Pfeh, too easy. I duck down and roll away, flicking a coin as I go, which sticks to the lantern. Hah, now I’ve got you.

Ah, there he is. Old Man Stinky is charging in, chisel in his hand and murderous intent writ across his face. Now you’re making a girl feel special~

Mothly seems flustered and I can see more heat building up in the lantern. Well, let’s see what happens if I help that process along a little, eh?

From a battery in my outstretched hand a bolt of electrical energy surges forth to that handy dandy coin I affixed to the lantern.

And that is the point at which I, uh, don’t really know what’s happening anymore. On account of the lantern unleashing an incredibly bright light and now I can’t see. I can only hope Old Man Stinky isn’t faring any better…
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 26
8/13/2023 20:33:09   
DaiTigris
How We Roll Winner
June14


Mooth squared up to her foe. Quickly placing the lantern by her feet and then transitioned into aiming a swift kick to her chest. However the attack didn’t collide with anything. Just sailing through the air as the flame lady dropped down and out of the way. There was a small metallic noise but she thought it was the sound of her claws on the metal of her lantern.

Then she hears a thudding behind her and remembers the rock man is still there too. The rage is replaced with panic. This was way too close, and she would rather not be surprised by him. She quickly feeds a large infusion of magic to her lantern, much faster than she knows she should as the heat radiates off it and the spark swells in brightness. Yet before she can manually release the energy….
*ZAP!*
An electrical current runs through her body, she lets out a pained cry in confusion as she involuntarily lets go of her tool. The magic from the spark releases blinding the whole area in white.

Yet as that happens Mooth is reminded of the brightness of the moon. She imagines that if she stepped foot on it this is what it would look like. A pure white world full of power.
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 27
8/13/2023 20:53:08   
roseleaf320
Creative!


The Traitor’s axe failed to find its mark. Eruth’s opponent knocked it aside, and shadows clanged against metal armor instead of slicing flesh. Friction pierced Eruth’s burned hand like needles.

burning,

No. Eruth pursed her lips, pushing the poem away from her thoughts once more. She would face that one on her own terms.
Perhaps what it takes

In the same breath as his block, her opponent leaped for another attack, slashing towards her tome arm once again. Same rhythm as before. Eruth swung her axe around to stop it, and the enemy blade clashed against her hilt. Eruth spared no further thought for the blade; she would be ready, this time, for its twin.It was upon her in a breath, her opponent thrusting its deadly point towards her chest. Eruth stepped aside quickly, and the blade was swept up in her cloths as they crested beside her. Eruth smiled as she watched their elaborate, swirling waves.
to win

Eruth swung the axe in a sideways arc, echoing the Traitor’s ferocity. But her victim caught on quickly and, in one fluid motion, thrust his weapon in between the axe’s blade and handle. Moon-aligned arm curved around to yank the axe away, and Eruth stifled a laugh. You can’t pull what was never there. Her fingers sprang outward, letting axe’s handle release. The weapon disintegrated between them, last whispers of shadow swirling to echo her opponent’s movement as he yanked on empty air. For a moment, their eyes met. Eruth’s vibrant gold shown through the dim reflection of her opponent’s sun and moon.
is not staff, axe, or tome,

Eruth needed more than just a blade to trade blows. She had no qualms with this man; she knew nothing about him, frankly. But he was blocking her path to the Darkness Lord. And he was trying to kill her.

Eruth took a deep breath and conjured a death.
Three stars above to light their way;
Three mighty gods to which they pray.
A flash--
A breath--
And death is bound,
As three gods crash into their ground.

Her opponent backed away, eyes flicking towards the tome as another page crumpled into ash. Eruth’s dark lips curled into a slight smile. Got you. Shadow amassed behind her opponent, forming a void-filled sun. The light from above gleamed through it as it solidified and shot into her opponent’s back.
not wound nor death,

It no longer mattered to Eruth what her opponent saw within the shadows. She ripped a yellowed page from her tome; she had to strike now, while he was distracted. Perhaps a sword, now, there were plenty of those—

“WHY!”

Her opponent’s jarring yell cut through Eruth’s search. His voice was harsh; she’d heard little of it during their fight. But what was he… no, it hardly mattered. Eruth closed her eyes to keep her focused as she intoned a weapon.

Blinded—

Eruth howled as a burning snake snapped around her injured arm. Panicked eyes flicked open to see an iridescent cord stretching through the air as if tethered to an invisible pole. Agony seared through Eruth’s arm as she tried and failed to yank herself free. The cord held firm as her grip on her tome loosened.

Twine once, twice, thrice, unraveled like a fleeing serpent.

Keeper!

Tears stung Eruth’s eyes as she desperately tried to keep fingers tense behind the tome of the lost.
Keeper, our stories--

Leather-inlaid patterns, carved by Eruth’s own hand as a child, slid down her grasp. She knew each curve by heart: a sweeping scythe of moon and stars. Symbols for the Darkness that held the lost so dearly; the Darkness that gave her family their names.
Keeper, please,

The lost screamed, begged her to hold on, for without the tome she could not share their stories. Without the tome, their stories ended with her.

We want--


I don’t care what you want. Eruth released her grip, and leather-bound pages collapsed to the ground.
but a simple,

She did not need to tell their stories. Eruth wanted to start telling her own.

Eruth did not spare the fallen tome a glance as she slipped her hand beneath her cloth and gripped the handle of her only dagger. Cloths flaring behind her, Eruth charged forwards, spinning to her opponent’s side and cutting off his path with the very cord he’d bound her with. She slammed her heel hard into the ground and pivoted towards him. Her arm snaked out of her cloth to reveal the shining silver blade. Death after bloody death tried to grip her focus, but Eruth would not break under their cries. I will be your Keeper no longer! I will win Darkness’s favor and finally live!
stirring truth,


As her opponent charged towards her, Eruth drove the silver dagger towards her opponent’s neck and let out a piercing yell that drowned out the lost and the crowds alike.

“I am Eruth!”
”I am Eruth!’

Post #: 28
8/13/2023 22:39:31   
markthematey
Member

One last time, Hetritch broke into a run.

Constantly running, come to me yellow-bellied fools. Let me fix you. He tried to remain calm but his frustration kept raking at his mind. Time and time again they ran, attacked him from behind, and ran once again. Hitrtich knew he wasn’t the fighting kind but it was clear to him what they were doing was underhanded.

They didn’t respect their elder so he wouldn’t respect them either. The flame-dressed woman would be the target of his next attack.

She was distracted as the moth-being sent a kick at her. An opportunity Hetritch wouldn’t let slip. He continued forward at an unwavering pace, each step echoed against the ground despite his efforts to make them quiet. He prepared his chisel, he raised it in a threatening but practiced way.

A chisel needed a careful hand. You could always chip away more of a sculpture’s form but never add it back. Hetritch knew exactly how much force he was going to apply.

He would take their rough form and change it into something new. Something perfect… as perfect as he could make such a flawed being. For they blind-sided him multiple times now, he would blind her.

The chisel leveled at her eye but before he could strike his vision was covered in a bright white light. Raising a hand didn’t stop the all-consumed brightness.
Post #: 29
8/14/2023 0:01:12   
  Starflame13
Moderator


Amidst the roaring crowds and crunching rock, earth hummed. Warmth emanated from the sun-soaked stone, heat rising in shimmering waves. The scattered fragments of the shattered Martyrs blazed gold, shining out from a multitude of crevices and casting a shower of glimmering light over the final moments of the melee.

Lightning streaked earthward once more, slamming into the tower with a tumultuous crash. Glittering torrents of energy snapped from spike to spike until they coated the walls in a maze of sparking channels. Long-forgotten screams echoed forth from the metal, a cacophony of carnage and bloodshed forever entombed in the surrounding stone. The aura of the Martyrs swelled - a great tension that grew and burst into an earth-shaking roar, drowning out all else until naught could be heard, could be felt, could be known but the all-consuming scream of malice.

The maelstrom ceased, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. Bars of thick shadows criss-crossed the blood-stained ground, the tall and gleaming forms of the Martyrs resurrected to form a cage of eight spikes curling over the pit below. Rust flaked and fell away, leaving gleaming steel in its wake. The surrounding stakes, though glinting and sharpened, sang for blood no longer - merely pointed towards the now-pristine gates out. But such an escape was not for everyone, as some of the competitors had vanished from Spike’s prison.

The Paragons were chosen; the fight for Champion was at hand.

Calm fell upon the Trial of the Savage.
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 30
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