=Elemental Championships 2009= Sky Arena


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7/14/2009 22:09:30

Ronin Of Dreams
Still Watching...

It has been a long year since the last Elemental Championship, but the Championship Arena Complex did not show signs of age, but rather on the contrary - it grew, and along with it, just a hill and a spring with a weary wooden bridge over it away, grew the township...now more of a city...of Bren. The vicinity of the Arena has done it much good - apart from the great crowds -- and thusly business -- it brought it during the Championship itself, just the presence of such a building carried the township's name far over the lands. There came adventurers of many sorts, and the burgeoning four inns of Bren were never short of business, there came priests of the Elemental Lords, building shrines and churches and granting it divine protection not from one, but from all the Lords, and there came many, many artisans to maintain the three offshoot Arenas around the old one, and craft yet a fourth offshoot that hung high in the sky above the lot.

The would-be combatants, either just arriving, or having taken a night's rest either at an inn or at the small camp of tents at the base of the Arena hill, would get to see the artisans' handiwork soon enough, right after the priests and mages within them finish their last checks on the protective barriers and image transportation enchantments for the gathered crowds.

~~~

High above the main arena floated the conglomeration of levitating, interlocking stones that creates the newly coined Sky Arena. No enchanters, magi, or artisans stood in the way of the contestants assigned to this arena. No, far from it, but rather eight magi stood waiting to offer their assistance in raising competitors to equidistant starting points that served in lieu of any gates allowing general access.

The rough hewn stones were not precisely inviting, however, and the whole arena seemed to spin slowly. Almost, just almost, as if trying to lull competitors into the large central hole within the Arena's form, where the stones spun at their swiftest. Or perhaps to make it more easy to trip due to the slight gaps and uneven surfaces. Traps, perhaps, or tricks to be exploited. Regardless, Sky was an unkind mistress from the first sight to the last. It was time for blood to be spilled, and the first to fall.

Sky, at last, was open.

Post #: 1

7/15/2009 14:05:07

Rayzer
Member

Misty sat, fully-rested and ready to fight, in a small tavern. The town had been bustling ever since the first announcement that the Elemental Championships were being brought back.
Being her first competition, she was antsy and nervous of her upcoming battle. Not a good combination when your about to put your life on the line.

She wasn't your ordinary Lorian, in fact, she was far from it. Of course, most who competed here weren't your normal group of Lorians. She was of a mysterious breed, half eagle and half human. Her pearl white wings were similar to bird wings, but on a much larger scale. At the tips were brown feathers, making her look very eagle like. Her Ice-blue eyes, combined with her white hair gave her a more than natural look, but she was proud of her heritage and looks.

Finding out she was in the Sky arena only slightly worsened her mood. The arena was not what she was planning for, but who knows? She might have a liking for heights.

=#=

Arriving at the Arena, Misty let the magi assist her by raising her into her starting position. The feeling is similar to flying, you feel weightless. A slight buzzing emanated from the spell, but it was well worth the annoyance to participate in such a scene. The tingling of the natural magic caused her skin to itch, and her hair to stand on end. Knowing this was her moment to use everything she had ever mastered, she was as shaky as one of those Ice elementals. When she arrived on top of her platform, she took a view of the competitors. Seeing as her competition was very varied, with many people from different cultures and elements, this would be interesting.

The rocks floating would be no problem, as she had experienced enough of these kinds of obstacles in her village. Her flying skills were impressive, and this should be cake.

Flapping her wings once, she simply glided over the arena, using her water abilities to splash the rocks with water, simple enough right?

The properties of this water were similar to drinking water, except that the goal of this water was for slipping up the enemy, making this water more of a slime than a water.

Returning to her starting position Misty simply stayed just above the floor, which glistened with water, preventing herself from slipping. She then continued to flap, ready to dodge any upcoming attacks.

< Message edited by Rayzer -- 7/15/2009 15:15:18 >

Post #: 2

7/15/2009 17:23:30

TormentedDragon
Member

Lord of Fire. He who shares the sun with the Lord of Light, lending his life-giving flame to the world. Whose flame cleanses and replenishes forest, plain, and even towns. Who, in times of war, shares his fury with all alike and cares not one whit for the motives of mortals... save that they do something extraordinary to gain his favor.

He was an interesting figure, dressed as he was in the best of his fighting clothes: a vest of fine deerskin, elaborately dyed and embroidered, and a matching pair of trousers with slight flare at the very bottom, and deerskin belt around his waist. From the belt hung a small, deadly sharp axe, and a pair of long knives, their hilts ornamented with the same kind of leatherwork that adorned his clothing. Around his neck hung the only bit of precious metal he had on his person, a golden pendant, exquisitely formed, of a soaring eagle in flight. It was his hair, though, that caught the eye. Feathers with striking patterns and colorful beads had been braided into his hair, and set against the backdrop of such healthy black hair, the effect was breathtaking.

Certainly he turned an eye or two, but not as many here in Bren as he had on the journey here. Here, after all, they were accustomed to the outlandish, the frightening, and even the downright disturbing. He, himself, had seen a few of those who could only be here for the championships, and had been forced to wonder at his chances. Still, he was here. He had not come all these miles, through peril upon peril, to turn back at the very gates.

Roman approached the waiting magi, and nodded his thanks as the man lifted him up, and up, and up, affording him a good view of the arena as he rose. An amazing feat, this, and so far outside his scope of understanding that he could not help but be awestruck. He knew that earth could be lifted, held suspended in air, yes. He had seen this, seen a boulder ripped from the ground and tossed into the path of his brothers as if it weighed no more than a pebble. But this, to suspend enough rock that one could walk upon it, fight upon it, to enchant it so that it hung there year round without falling, to then set it spinning...

And to think that all this was for a mere tournament. But then, the Lords themselves watched this tournament. And that changed everything.

His transporter set him down with a feather-light touch, and he took the time to look about him. This arena would prove treacherous merely to stand upon, moving as it was. Already he could see that the rocks were not flush with each other... there were changes in elevation, small gaps forming and closing as the whole thing spun. To run would be to invite disaster. But that could work in his favor.

"After all," he said softly, the tip of his finger flickering with flame, "I am the Firewolf. Distance is no great thing to me."

< Message edited by TormentedDragon -- 7/15/2009 17:36:43 >

Post #: 3

7/15/2009 19:11:12

Clyde
Legendary Artist!

The Morning, outside of Bren.

Nightmares. Or were they subconscious memories from a long time ago? Galvian awoke not from the nightmares or the bugs crawling from outside of his skin, but from the sunlight piercing his eyes open. He scratched, he yawned, and rubbed whatever was in his eyes out. It was his usual morning routine since he always slept outside and within a tree large enough to support himself. Galvian never enjoyed sleeping inside for many reasons. Freedom was one because he never liked being confined to closed spaces, it made him feel trapped and like a caged animal. Another one was because he felt he would be weak like his domesticated brethren.

After leaping down the tree he ventured through the local town checking out what it had to offer. He would always get the occasional glances, people whispering and gossiping about him. Some people who cheer and root for the element of Energy. This made Galvian smirk a little. Sure there many different kinds of people in town, but he would always feel distant from them. He believed that fighting in good spirit would always be something that brings most people together.

He decided to skip eating, he was already to pumped as is. If he won or lost and if he survived he would eat a large feast then...

The entrance of the Sky Arena

As he entered the Sky Arena he was not quite sure what to say as he looked around. Floating rocks, some rotating around the center within a timed motion. He grumbled at not being able to leap himself up to the closest rock since they were so high above the ground. The magi stood out to him so he approached the closest one and asked for some assistance to reach one of the stationary rocks.

Heights never bothered Galvian though the thought of battling high above any solid ground and fighting other opponents made him slightly nervous. On rocks none the less... The rock below him while it seemed stable he stomped on it a few times to test it is sturdiness.

Quick glances were passed at his opponents. The girl was some sort of bird-like creature and the guy seems average, but as he should know appearances aren't everything. His ears perked as he heard the man pronounce that he was the Firewolf and he smirked. Galvian clapped his hands together producing a slight thunderous roar and a spark of electricity raising from his arms and fading away to his body.

Galvian was pretty tall with a slouchy posture. He usually stands up straight when he's ready for battle which was what he did. His fur, while thick is a fine blue, but when touched by sunlight is a dark green. Galvian's bright blue eyes reflects light to give it an slight aura at night. While his crooked legs may have looked irregular to the human frame it didn't to the more feral four-legged beasts. His arms were long and ended on some half paw half hand creation which concealed his sharp claws.

He wears cotton cloth shorts that go three inches past the knees. And they were more than some decoration, but also a conductor for his electricity. On his wrists and ankles are steel, this signifies that he use to be a prisoner of some sorts.

"I chose you Energy because you were alive, fierce, and bright. I hope you chose me for the same reason Energy Lord. Those other elements will be envious of your power. There is no past, just a here and now!"

He produced a loud roar for all to hear, it was his way of saying he was eager and ready. His balled up fists zapping wildly between each strand of fur. This was to let his opponents know he was ready.

< Message edited by Clyde -- 7/15/2009 21:46:01 >

Post #: 4

7/15/2009 20:35:24

omf
Member

Inn Room

It was a desolate room, all furniture moved to the sides of the room, leaving a massive space in its center. Red wood covered the floors, a thin veil of carpet separating the human body sitting on it and the rotted wood which threatened to drop the man clean through it. Clearly it was morning, the windows that were left open causing streams of light to come in and dance around the sitting body, creating a sort of uniform sun ray that seemed to make the being seem more angelic then anything else. It was perhaps his appearance and his actions that made him seem all to more fit the part.

From his pinkish, puckered lips, slight sounds of breathing could be heard, almost as if he were chanting something. Glossy black hair fell about his face, the sun’s rays making it seem that it had highlights of light brown in it, and his garments, well; they seemed to blind any that could look at them. Pure white, baggy, and almost robe like, sitting down it was almost impossible to tell what he was wearing. The chanting continued under his breath, a silent prayer to the Lord of Earth for strength, power, determination and-

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

The being known as Ko almost shot up through the roof, his body jumping up in surprise at the sound, a slight yelp coming from his voice. Finally one could see his young face, his body appearing no more then 20. Calming himself with a deep breath, he muttered “Come in.” only for a petite, though attractive women to slide in.

“Aw, Katina!” Ko seemed to yell, his voice cracking slightly as he jumped to hug her. Pulling back, he looked her into the dark blue eyes, her face smiling.

“I came to give you something before the fight handsome~” Withdrawing from his embrace, she drew a diamond pendent and dropped it in her hand, Ko’s face smiling as he grabbed it.

“It’ll bring me good luck before our marriage, after I win of course!” They both giggled at this before looking back at each other, Ko putting the pendant into his baggy, robe like over shirt. Letting his hands move down to hers, he gave her a slight kiss on the cheek before muttering “Don’t worry, I’ll be back…” to her tear stricken face. It was no secret that in the Elemental Championship, people died, lots of people died, and there was a possibility he could too. Moving past her form, he bid her one last good bye before entering into the hell that waited…

The Sky Arena

Standing under the massive arena, Ko put a hand up to his eyes, looking up as to shield himself from the sun. A whistle came from his mouth; it was a very, very, very high up arena. Sucking his teeth slightly, he knew that if he fell, he could use his kinetic manipulation to jump back up, but darn, that was a really high up battlefield. Even in the mountain temples where he had trained And then he noticed it, a slight disturbance in the suspended rocks, almost as if they were…

“Hey uh, Magi sir, are those rocks spinning?” Ko had turned and asked the Magi beside him, the man wearing a giant blue robe and a point hat. Typical.

“Yes sir, there are big rocks on the outside, small ones on the inside, and they spin the faster you get towards the center.” He replied with a high, young voice.

Ko, naturally, sighed deeply, putting his hands on his waist which was wrapped by a black sash, the knot tied to his left side. Baggy white hakama hung tied to them, covering his legs, with black sandals and white socks on his feet. A large, sleeveless shirt was around his torso, and under it a even larger, sleeved shirt with massive sleeves hung out, white cloves covering the hands. Naturally the sun reflected off of the outfit and made it hard to look at directly, an advantage for Ko. Now looking back up at the arena, he could easily just jump up there several times on the air, but he didn’t want to show his good tricks just yet, he wanted to stay alive after all.

Turning to the Magi, he gave the thumbs up and let his body be blasted through the air. A tingling sensation rushed through his body as he yelped slightly, his body being lifted like an elevator, and contrary to popular belief, that wasn’t really normal for him.

Finally have reached the top, he looked around to see the people who had arrived yet. Some women with wings, some dude with oddly colored leather, and some…blue wolf guy. Scratching his head, Ko didn’t know what to think. This surely was going to be an…interesting tournament to say the least.

Post #: 5

7/15/2009 21:27:27

demonhunter
Member

She had returned.

A few heads turned as she made her way down the street. Some recognised her. Some of those who did flashed her lewd grins that made her grimace. The last time she'd been here, she'd teleported out of her clothes by accident.

But that was in the past. Two years had come and gone since she last participated in this tournament. This time would be different. She had promised as such, to her teacher, her friend, and to the Lord of Light. This time, she would retain her Lord's favour... Or die trying.

Lisa checked the notice in her hand. The Sky arena. Damn. She'd been hoping for Cellar. At least in Cellar, she would have something of a home turf advantage. Oh well. No matter.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to shift the weight of the staff strapped to her back, as she approached one of the magi below the Sky arena, the one positioned to the southeast.

"Lisa Hunter, competing for the Lord of Light. I've been assigned to this Arena."

The magi nodded, and began casting his spell, lifting her up until she was standing on one of the rocks that made up the battlefield. Once she felt she had a safe foothold, she looked around. Some of the other competitors had already arrived.

She raised her right hand to grip the top end of her staff, and brought her left hand down, behind her back, where none could see the light she was gathering in her palm. She would not be caught off guard. Not here.

Post #: 6

7/15/2009 22:28:38

qbsuperstar03
Member

Here he is again. Again, the mages greeting him as they make the preparations to raise such a large and heavy combatant, who probably outweighs most humans even with all of their battle gear. Again with the warnings, the good-luck wishes, and most importantly, the notification from his Lord that this time there is no going back. There is either splendid victory or shameful defeat, and nothing will come between the two.

The winds pick up as the magic elevator did its job to raise this particularly curious-looking pugilist to the height of the Sky Arena. His lower body was not legged as most of the others, but rather took on more of the characteristics of a snake, ideal for navigating the treacherous terrain that was this place's hallmark. But he already had learned that, having been placed by Fate in this same arena the tournament previous for the first round. With the addition of actual armor, a Frostbow for distance combat, and most importantly, a wider range of options for unleashing magical mayhem, however, this warrior felt he was more than ready.

No; not just a warrior. Rather, a Snow Warrior. The principles behind his creation are secrets known only to the Ice Lord himself, and he isn't about to tell the other Lords how to make their own servants. Heck, the only reason Fire Golems walk the earth is because an earth sorceress was captured and forced into servitude...the name, however, is lost to him at this particular time.

Finally, the elevator reaches the designated altitude, and he slithers onto the starting platform. Around him are other hopeful champions: A lady with a quarterstaff, possibly the simplest yet deceptively effective weapon ever devised. Some sort of fairy-like creature flapping its wings madly to remain just above the surface of the arena. Some guy decked out mostly in white, with a diamond pendant. Another feral-looking creature with weights on the wrists and ankles...possibly one of the feared Werewolves? But most disturbing of all is the one who radiates heat and fire magic, the antithesis of all he holds dear.

But none of that matters anymore. He is here to fight, and he is here to win. He is the one known as Cryoface, and having had a taste of the glory that is being a Lord's Champion (albeit a substitute) last year, he will not be satisfied with anything less than total victory this time. Drawing his Frostbow to pick off anyone who would dare attempt a surprise attack, he smiles with a look of fatalism and grim determination. The culmination of everything he had been training for since his defeat last year is finally here.

Post #: 7

7/16/2009 0:27:39

TormentedDragon
Member

The others were here, and a strange gathering it was. To his right, a winged woman, suspended above the floor of the arena with impossibly slow beats of her wings. To his left, a peculiar creature indeed, bestial in form, yet clothed and with what appeared to manacles upon all four of its limbs... and judging by the slight spark he saw as it clapped its paws, a servant of energy. He could not help but smile at its roar, so very like a howl in the message it sent. Should he respond with one of his own? No. No, it was not yet time for that.

On other stones across the arena, he saw a man all in white, a woman with a staff, and largest of all present, a great creature formed of ice and snow, armored and with a bow in hand, its lower quarters formed into something resembling a snake. A wise configuration, for such terrain, but how, he wondered, would it surmount the step from the stone on which it sat to the moving rings? It was as he pondered this, studying the gap himself, that he noticed the peculiar shine upon the rocks. That was not natural. That was a clinging substance, and that was likely to cause a bad slip and worse fall. He smiled. Someone was being sneaky.

He pointed ahead of him, and the flicker of flame at his finger became a stream, searing the rocks with ferocious heat. He was gratified to see the steam rise in small puffs, to hear the sizzle as what was evidently water evaporated into nothing. Now who could have been responsible for this? he thought, stepping carefully onto the slowly moving outer ring. It is a large area that has been covered, and in a short time as well, over uneven ground. And the only one who looks to be able to move that fast... is the one with wings.

His head snapped up and over, and his easy smile vanished. This, then, was how it would start. Up here, he need have no fear of his fire raging out of control, for there was no grass for it to set aflame. There was only rock, and air. Up here, he could fight with abandon, if he so chose, something he had never done... something that only those who sought to exterminate his people had seemed capable of, until now. The flames came to his call as they always did, obediently confined into a simple sphere. He raised it, and pushed, and the sphere flew as if shot from a bow, straight for the hovering woman.

Up here, he could be the inferno. But the largest blazes could come from the smallest spark.

Post #: 8

7/16/2009 1:12:56

The Extinguisher
Member

The lone figure walked through the town of Bren, silently and solemnly. He had been here before, in a different time and appearance. This was not an unusual sight, the upcoming tournament brought with it all sorts of people from all over, but despite that, the townspeople watched him. This person was unlike any they had ever seen before. Equal parts beauty and confidence, a hint of angelicity wrapped in a devilish charm. This was just the way Michael liked it. They would all be watching him as he slaughtered the competition.

Stepping into the arena complex, he sensed it. It was much stronger than last year. Bloodshed. The feel of live slipping away flowed through him. More blood had been spilled here. The blood of champions. His own blood. And even sooner, more blood will splatter the ground. More lives will be lost. The thought excited him. His skin shuddered, as he watched would-be heroes crowd into arenas, wondering who would die first, and how. He felt the audience flood the stadiums. Their hearts pumping with anticipation. This was going to be fun.

Michael made his way to his arena. Sky. A whirlpool of rocks floating high above the crowd. Not as eloquent as last year's fountains, but deadly just the same. Small gaps between the rocks. Loose footing. Don't trip up. One misstep, could lead you to a plummeting death on the ground below. "I guess I'm going to need to show some tricks sooner than I thought." Some inconsequential wizard lifted him to the arena, and deposited him onto a stone. He surveyed the surroundings. No one of particular interest. Laughable woman and forgettable men, each with their own little quirks to make them 'special'. They all bled the same in the end. One, however caught his attention. A warrior of ice, it appeared. Thoughts flashed back to the dwarf of last year, so close to victory only for it to be whisked away. Today would not end that way. Never breaking eye contact with the warrior he quickly hops to a sturdier looking stone, and prepares for the upcoming bloodbath.

Post #: 9

7/16/2009 7:51:50

Nightly
Member

He woke up slowly, ghost pains from his hand bothering him slightly as he sat up and stared off into the street. It had been a long time since he had come here, a year if he was correct. So much had happened since that year. If any of last year's combatants were here they would hardly recognize him. He stepped into the main hall of the house he had rented the room in and grabbed his sword off of the table, and leaned heavily on it, like a crutch, the blade digging into the polished wood. The boy was already standing there, he could feel his presence, yet he made no comment. He leaned against the boy, and they made their slow way towards the wizard, towards... the arena.

The boy told the wizard who he was and why he was here. In the middle of the conversation, the man fell down, and convulsed in the dirt. The wizard backed up, his eyes wide in alarm while the boy just stood their patiently. A few minutes later, the man stopped, he stood back up panting with his body caked with dirt and mud. He was looking the part of a blind beggar, through and through. Even his shirt, pants, and pockets were filled to the brim with dirt and mud. "That was probably the worst seizure I've had yet," he thought to himself. He nodded to the wizard, assuring it that he was okay. The wizard grunted, and sent the man up. His clothes ruffled in the breeze, his only armor was a guantlet over his arm, the arm with which he lost his hand last year. The guantlet would be an effective shield he supposed, but it would only be there to make sure he didn't lose the rest of it. The ghost pains he already experienced were more than enough to bear.

He landed upon a rock in a crummpled heap. His sword by his side, his body slightly lagging. If any took the time to notice, his eyes had he curious look of the blind, clouded and milky. His hand went to his pocket, and pulled out a harmonica, brought it to his mouth and played a tune, neither sad, or happy. It's pitch rose and fell, the music drifting by everyone twirling through their ears.

Nightly was the last to arrive. He wouldn't be the first to leave. Not this time.

< Message edited by Nightly -- 7/16/2009 8:02:37 >

Post #: 10

7/16/2009 14:35:25

Rayzer
Member

Misty, observing her opponents once again noticed one peculiar....creature if you may. And by the looks of that Steam he made, One of fire's chosen.

Fire and water don't necessarily mix, obviously, but she was used to the environment. And with that knowledge, she had a feeling of what was about to happen. She looked towards him, noticing him searching the arena with a bewildering stare, stopping on Misty herself. The fireball was done quite out in the open, allowing for somewhat of a former action. What surprised her more was the quick and smart conclusion that this, creature, had created. Her tracks, she guessed, were not very well hidden, but this would not matter. Water + Fire = A Balance....of sorts.

Simply firing a blast of mist below her, combined with the flapping of her wings, propelled her way out of the fireball's reach.

"You really think a simple fireball would unnerve me? Although, I do respect your quick wits. It takes more than just a educated brain to make that kind of conclusion." Misty says.

I then return back into my starting position. This time, Misty decides that she would be more agile on these rocks, and would be saving her wings for later. The rush of battle was getting to her, and she loved it. Getting ready to defend herself from any other attacks, she moves into her battle stance. This would be an interesting match.

DF	Post #: 11

7/16/2009 17:25:14

qbsuperstar03
Member

Cryoface watches as one of the combatants shoots a fireball at the winged one, the latter of which easily dodges it. Already, people were getting to it? Then, he notices the watery sheen to the rocks. True, it would prove more treacherous than normal for most legged creatures, but he is more than used to such conditions. The hard part, however, would be getting over the gap between the starting platform and the actual arena for him.

Jumping is imaginably quite difficult for one such as himself, but nobody said he had to do that. If it was true that an early arrival was trying to bump off everyone else by slicking up the rocks, they would be sadly disappointed at Cryoface's preferred method of crossing short gaps such as these: Utilizing a motion much like an inchworm, he bridges the gap easily. Once he touches down, he freezes the water that's still present there, thereby locking himself in place momentarily while the rest of his tail crosses the gap. Then all it takes is a bit of effort to break the freeze, and Cryoface is fully mobile in the Sky Arena.

Immediately, he notices that icy conditions and slippery rocks are not the same, but due to the increased surface area between himself and the terrain, he nevertheless manages to maintain his balance. Noting that the Fire representative was engaged in a bit of a conflict with one of the others, he decides to seek out a fight of his own. He had had enough double-teams against him last year to know that nobody liked it when such a thing happened to them.

Then, the music of what the flesh-forms refer to as a "harmonica" reaches Cryoface's sound sensors. They aren't what a human would refer to as ears, per se, but they get the job done. Noticing that the man has great troubles even standing up in these conditions, Cryoface dismisses him as an unworthy opponent, and continues to search for one who would give him ample opportunity to demonstrate his skills to his Lord.

Continuing to search for someone to take on, Cryoface's gaze falls upon the Werewolf. Yes, he would do quite nicely. But no fight was complete unless the other guy knew exactly who was going to crush their hopes of winning. "Salutations, feral one," the statement of enmity began. "I, Cryoface, notice that a fighting spirit runs strong in you, and I am interested to see exactly how strong your spirit is when compared to that of one who is begotten by his Lord."

Again, Cryoface drops into a Kendo stance, holding his Ice Katana in two hands along his center line to defend against attacks from either side, his gaze fixated on his chosen opponent. Just the fact that this werewolf made it this far probably means that he is a formidable opponent, but so is Cryoface. The real question is, however, whether the Snow Warrior's skill with a blade could overcome a werewolf's strength and tenacity.

Post #: 12

7/16/2009 19:42:41

omf
Member

No words, no motions, only action, and this early in the tournament as well. Ko’s hazel eye’s, flecked with bits of gold and gray, watched as the man directly across from him, dressed in a tie-dye of leather, simply looked around before forming what would be simply noticed by Ko as a bit of fire. Most likely mana produced. Narrowing his eye’s ever so slightly, he watched as the fire hit the rocks, and a sizzle came up from it. Now that was interesting. Looking down at the ring closest to him, he had seen that it had been covered in something just a bit shiny, and something that could easily, most likely, trip him up and make him fall. Not that it mattered; he could easily use his own little tricks to jump back up to the high altitude arena. However, at the moment, he preferred not to slip, he had a marriage to get to after he won the tournament, and he simply waited for that portion of the ring to rotate over to him before he stepped on to it ever so slightly.

Looking up, the martial artist noticed that the fights were pairing off. The fire user had attacked the [quite attractive looking] winged women, who had simply flown out of the way, and the giant…and rather odd looking ice-snake-guy had drawn some weapons and started baiting the blue wolf thing. Honestly, Ko didn’t know what to think from those two, and slowly he turned his head to the musical melody coming to his ears. One man playing the harmonica, another having just stepped onto the rotating rocks. Raising his white gloved hands up and flexing his fingers, he wasn’t sure whether to fight the harmonica user, or the quiet man that had just appeared. The remaining women, however, was out of the question, he wouldn’t lay a finger on, went against his policy.

“Well then, only one way to do this then. Any-many-miny-moe…” His soft voice came out as he pointed to his right, directly at the quiet man. And then Ko was gone.

He seemed to blast at the man, his body appearing like a white blur as the sun’s rays reflected off of it, and his feet seemed to skid on the air. Wait, the air? Oddly enough, the man was not touching the rocks, which had began to spin faster and slower depending on his distance from the center, instead each push he made seemed to be on the air itself. Though it would be near impossible to tell with his feet so closed to the ground, the observant would notice this but only Ko would know the secret of it.

Kinetic Manipulation.

Though at the moment, the details didn’t matter. What did matter was that Ko was in the man’s face with a second, his right foot stomping onto the rocks as an invisible force seemed to push the sticky fluids away, and his left leg coming up directly towards the man’s face. If only that was the attack here, though. Unless the man had blocked with some sort of mana imbued attack or item, the force of the kick wouldn’t even be noticed. Instead, Ko had manipulated the kinetic energies in the kick to literally move from the arm where it hit, to smash the man directly in his face. A very effective attack indeed.

AQ	Post #: 13

7/16/2009 20:15:08

TormentedDragon
Member

Agile, which was to be expected, a water user, which confirmed that she had spread the water about, and very self-assured. But, judging by her words, unable to see past the surface of an action. How very like the soldiers, in that sense. Roman smiled, and wiggled his finger, ever so slightly. Behind her, the fireball stopped in mid-flight, and, with another wiggle, shot upwards, far above where anyone would normally look for it. In his other hand, he conjured a second sphere, his eyebrow rising at he looked at her.

"A conclusion, coalucca?" he said, saying the word with exaggerated care, as if it was unfamiliar. His accent was pronounced, sounding as if he was far more accustomed to a more fluid language than this. He flicked the second sphere in her direction, and took a step forward, keeping just the barest touch of flame around his fingertips. "I do not know this word. How is it drawn, and with what?"

Post #: 14

7/16/2009 20:47:39

Rayzer
Member

After seeing her other opponents take other enemies, Misty observed the fire user. That's when the unexpected happened. The fire user, sly as any other opponent here, sent the fireball straight up from behind her. That heat is unmistakeable, and as she was not used to the extreme heat, her skin was sensitive to it. She knew she better do something about it before something extreme happened. Using a simple mist spell, She soared above towards the upwards fireball, then quickly dousing it with a blast of mist, returned to the floor. Seeing the second ball, she merely misted it out, with a simple mist spell.

"A conclusion? Maybe you aren't as cunning as I thought." Misty says, As Faeron glows lighty,"I may be water-lord chosen, but that does not mean I want to sit here explaining everything to a insolent fire-user. Now tell me, how do you feel about water?"

Rearing up, I use some of my water in my pouch to create a Dark Fog. This dark fog covers most of the arena, and not only that, it dampens the air with heavy amounts of water. The fog prevents the contestants from seeing in a 5 foot radius.

"Good luck with your fire power now."

Flying above the fog, however, allowed me to see the contestants, and with that, allowed me to observe some of the other fights occurring. A man, who very well might just be a martial artist, was attacking a quiet man. The other battles were far less interesting, but this one was different, or at least the other competitors were.

Observing from above, could anything hurt her?

DF	Post #: 15

7/16/2009 21:54:33

Clyde
Legendary Artist!

He watched the Fire Contender evaporate something from off the rocks then attack the flying Water contender with a fireball. Galvian was some-what grateful for what he had done because he never actually saw the preconceived trap. He took another glance around the arena, more combatants had arrived. Just more people, a guy and what he thought was a girl? He wasn't sure, two-legged flesh beings all look alike. Sure, sure, it was never about looks, but the fighting spirit that lived within a being. Galvian never did quite understand why people dressed up all fancy for fighting...

Speaking of fighting, it seemed like everyone had a dance partner for this competition. Galvian turned to face his so called "opponent." It was some kind of construct, created by ice or snow. It called itself Cryoface then drew it's weapon. He stifled his laughter with a grin which revealed a weapon of his own, his teeth.

Wars upon wars were fought with tools, instruments of destruction, and man-made oddities. "The idiots," Galvian thought. "Does no one fight with what they were given? Must everyone fight with something else? Tools were not meant to destroy, but to create... Enough philosophy, focus on the FIGHT Galvian!" He snapped out of his thought pattern.

"Thank you, but I don't care about your Lord or the past behind it all. We're here and in the Now," it sounded rude to Galvian, but it was true. They were at the Elemental Championships. No looking back unless there was an opponent there.

"My name is Ga-lvian," A thick and dark fog had rolled in, interrupting his introduction to his opponent. The Water Contender was certainly prepared for battle. He took a deep breath, these were like clouds to him. No matter how high the trees he climbed were, he was never able to reach for the clouds.

"Best use this to my advantage," he said smiling. The energy he was gathering was released in quick bolts of lightning. He was shooting randomly. They weren't that strong, but he hoped they would be enough to create something diabolic. He was trying to create...

a thunderstorm.

< Message edited by Clyde -- 7/16/2009 22:06:18 >

Post #: 16

7/16/2009 22:27:32

demonhunter
Member

Around her, others were starting their battles. Fire and water were moving against each other, the ice creature had named his opponent, and of the other three, only the old man with the harmonica was not otherwise engaged.

Lisa grimaced. She didn't want to fight an old cripple. She was a healer by trade, dammit! So, rather than start fighting immediately, she chose to observe the others. If any looked like they may require assistance, she might be persuaded to help out.

Dark fog covered the Arena. Lisa frowned. Her visibility had dropped drastically. She couldn't risk moving blind. She had no desire to miss a step and fall to her death... Nor to trip and find someone standing over her with a weapon ready to strike. She would have to be careful.

She closed her eyes and focused on her hearing. She could hear the harmonica being played by the old man, but there was something else. Another sound below that one. A sort of crackling noise, kind of like...

Her eyes snapped open. Electricity. Somewhere her was an energy user, loosing lightning bolts into the fog... The implications struck her immediately. A fog this dense was comparable to a cloud. Clouds plus lightning equalled...

Thunderstorm.

She swore angrily. A thunderstorm on this battlefield, with most, if not all, of the competitors within the fog? They would all be struck down. She needed to stop it.

She gripped the lower end of her staff with her left hand, letting the light she had been gathering flow through the weapon as she pulled it free. She moved her hand back, using her right hand to guide and stabilise the weapon as she brought it round behind her, held horizontally as the light she fed into it gathered at the loose end.

She spun on her feel, turning in a full circle and bringing the staff around, fully outstretched, to release an expanding wave of light into the fog. It looked like a blade of light, travelling parallel to the ground at waist height, but it wouldn't cut. It was a blunt impact spell. The most it would do is knock a man over; the least would be to make them stumble. There was also a chance to cause damage to the internal organs if it struck an unprotected spot.

With no way of knowing where the energy candidate was, this was the only way she could think of to stop them.

Post #: 17

7/16/2009 22:50:58

Nightly
Member

He heard the battle rage around him, and he sensed the lightning gathering in the air above him. Yet still, he did not stir. he was content with his harmonica, the notes rang out pure and clear. If he chose to, he could play louder, with a higher, piercing tone, but why bother infuriating the other contenders? Best to stay were he was, lying down on the rock, an unlikely move that probably saved him from being hit by the shockwave that he felt over his body. He jerked upright, still trying to understand were the shockwave came from, and who managed to send it off. Not concious of what element that it was. He stood up, and took a breath in. Utilizing a trick that he learned from his younger days, he determined that the element was light. "Light," he thought, "Light means health, a healer, he could help!" The thought rushed from his mind as he managed to put his sword on his back and hobble over to were the shockwave had come from. "I doubt anyone would be as honorless to try and strike a cripple, especialy one with milky eyes," he reasoned. He stayed to the outsied of the ring, leaving the other contenders to vie for supremacy. "Hopefully, the light warrior will see I pose no harm before they attack me." He thought. "If this ruse holds up enough until I get over there, then I will manage to make myself in a very strong position." He continued hoblling over; careful to avoid the various cracks and crannys. Moving slow to avoid slidding on the water; all the while playing his harmonica. Soon to be his hallmark.

Post #: 18

7/16/2009 23:41:00

TormentedDragon
Member

He watched as she soared upwards, following his sphere, mist behind her to aid in her jump, mist ahead to douse the sphere. A name for her passed through his mind as he allowed the flame to dim, becoming almost nothing. Keristrana Coalucca, or in the tongue they spoke here, The Wingborne Skydancer. "We will soar on wings like eagles," he whispered, touching finger to pendant, and smiled again, and allowed the second sphere to dim to almost nothing as well, hiding it within the midst of her mist, where the heat it had once held had burned most of it away.

Not so cunning as the thought? No, more cunning than she could imagine. "What think I of water?" he replied, sending the first of his spheres higher and higher still, keeping it small, barely more than a candleflame, invisible against the greater flame of the sun. The other, he called back to his hand as she spread water out from her bag, condensing a mist into a heavy fog, and sending it down to obscure the field. "Water is of nature, life-giving, life-taking. Needed, yet deadly, if it comes all at once. It is much like fire in that way."

Within the palm of his hand, the sphere he had recalled flickered, then grew, its light hidden by cupped fingers, its heat keeping the fog from its body. She had erred in this tactic, for though he could not see her, neither could she see him, and no mere fog could douse his flame. To her second question, he gave no reply, but sent the sphere down to light his way, burning fog from his feet on the dark and treacherous path he trod. Away to his left, he could see flashes, and hear the crack after each. The creature of energy was at his work, perhaps charging the fog with his power? If that was the case, that spelled danger for all, even Keristrana.

But before he could think on that, there was light to the right, diffuse, but bright. He reacted without thought and dropped the ground, just in time for the wave of what seemed to be pure light to graze his back. For all it was light, it was solid enough; had it hit him, he was certain he would not have stayed standing. Yet it seemed he was not to remain like this, either, for he felt his legs falling behind the rest of him. Yes, the various parts of the ground moved at different speeds, and he was going to fall. So he turned it into a roll, and then stood, rolling his shoulder in response to the pain. These rocks were not all at even heights, either, and he had felt the edge keenly. But the pain would fade.

To recover, now. He reached out for the sphere in the sky, and felt it there, waiting and warm, then called his foot lamp back to its task, and kept moving, his moccasins lending silence to his step, and the fog cloaking him from all prying eyes.

Post #: 19

7/17/2009 0:35:53

The Extinguisher
Member

Apparently, the ice warrior wasn't interested. Choosing to ignore Michael and focus on a wolf of some sort. He would remember that later. But for now, it seemed he'd need another victim. Looking around, he saw various fighting occur between his competition. He briefly thought of interjecting on one of those, but the idea passed. Everyone deserves their own victims. Michael was a man of honour. A twisted sense of honour, yes, but honour none the less. But that meant he was without prey.

As luck would have it, someone decided to throw themselves at his mercy, running towards Michael as if running on the air. Seemingly impossible, but Michael knew more than enough to never assume impossible. Attack with a kick that was painfully obvious in trying to hide a harder strike. But unfortunately, the attacker's skills were unknown, and there was no choice but to see what he was up to. That didn't mean, that he'd not a few tricks of his own.

Standing perfectly stoic, except for one arm, his right, raising up towards the kick, Michael waited. As the attacker moved in, Michael braced his arm, ready to push. See, Michael had acquired a few tricks over the years, being a demon and a former archangel has it's perks. The ability to shapeshift. Not a pleasant experience to do, but familiarity is the key. The more and more a particular "shift" is done, the less draining it becomes. And of these, Michael has mastered one in particular. Using an unholy sword, grafted to his arm, which is now a part of his being. And because of that, he can turn his right arm into a variety of blades and weapons.

And that was the plan. Slice open the leg, shift as the kick connected, and drive the blade in. Unfortunately, good plans go awry. A deep fog covered the arena just seconds before the attack connected, catching Michael of guard. Michael saw the kick connect, through heavy mist, but he still saw it. However, he felt nothing. Nothing, that is, until a unknown force smacked him in the face. Unable to see, feeling blood and pain drip down his face, he made his attack. Nothing could stop him. He shifted, and pushed his arm blade into the enemy, unsure where he was, hoping to hit. He'd clean himself off later. He'd need a way to deal with this fog too. It was going to be hazardous.

< Message edited by Flame Master Axel -- 7/17/2009 0:48:13 >

Post #: 20

7/17/2009 9:36:57

omf
Member

Ko watched as his leg moved in fast, the man’s right arm snapping up to block it. Ko was unsure of any motives behind the block, certainly he thought the man might dodge, so he was on the wary side ever so slightly, just to avoid any crippling attacks. However, no longer then a split second before the kick landed, a dense fog rolled in literally out of nowhere, destroying eye sight and making nearly everything not inches away from your face a mystery. Naturally, that wasn’t so good for someone like Ko at a moment like this. Feeling his kick land, and a bit of his kinetic energy spread meaning the attack began to work, he didn’t wait for anything else to happen as he instantly pulled his foreleg back into a knee and used the momentum to spin around and land at a ball on the uneven rocks he stood on. Preparing himself for no longer then half a second, he jumped through the air, his body blasting from the mist as his jump reached his height. Then, with a paddle of his legs he jumped…again.

And again, and again, and again, and again. He seemed to be jumping on the air itself, each kick blasting down a hideous shockwave of Kinetic Energy that served as booster rocket for him. Having reached incredibly high now, though still not high enough to see the candle flame, he looked down at the mist and instantly whistled as he seen just how lucky he had gotten. Not only had the fog seemed to be changing as electricity rippled through its form, but a dim ring of light seemed to blast from the edges of the circle, most likely a light oriented attack.

“Well then, I have no idea what I should do.”

Ko mused the words to himself only for a second before he seen the flapping form of that attractive women earlier, observing the mist. So, naturally, Ko assumed that with her wings, and the fact he had seen some kind of mist produce from her body earlier, that she had created the fog, and if she had created the fog which was probably ripe with mana, he would have to –most likely- take her out in order to clear the mist up. He grimaced at the fact, and considering that his fiancé was most likely watching, he really didn’t want to have to fight her, but then again, he was sure his fiancé would prefer he not get ripped to shreds in the fog so, naturally, he had no other choice

Kicking down at her, his body now acting like a missile, he came at her with full speed, his strong kinetic kicks and the force of gravity itself aiding his attack. Once he got close enough he would flip and drop an axe kick at her, aimed at her head of course, with a nasty surprise. Even if she blocked or dodge, the kick would release a shockwave of the falling kinetic motion that Ko had just used, meaning that if she didn’t use any spells [which would instantly nullify the force being produced] the force of the kick would still reach anywhere within a five foot radius, ripe with the power to hopefully force her to drop the spell.

AQ	Post #: 21

7/17/2009 11:13:32

The Extinguisher
Member

Damn it.

Wiping the blood from his face, he noticed the attacker was gone. Disappeared into the fog. A hit and run, it would seem. Was he even hit by the counterattack, Michael didn't know. He didn't feel the blade cut through anything, but he didn't feel the kick either. Just perfect, he thought. Michael needed to get out of this fog. Something hit him in the back, knocking him to the stone floor. Looking up, he could see a small light move past him outwards. That must be what hit him. He'd need to find it's source and make him pay. So many victims, so little time.

This one always hurt. Michael's back ripped open, as two beautiful, majestic and bloody wings grew from it, and spread out from his body. Taking a second to adjust to a new center of gravity, he took to the air, and out of the fog. Looking for where the light attack originated from, he found nothing but fog. Fog, and two figures in the sky. One that appeared to be a winged girl or some sort, and, what's this, his attacker, trying to land a blow on the girl. It seems he lives only to provoke. This was his fight, and he wasn't about to let anyone take it away from him. He rose higher, and dove straight for the attacker, his lower arm, now a mighty sword, posed ready to strike. "Let's see you dodge this!"

Post #: 22

7/17/2009 14:48:31

Rayzer
Member

Observing the attackers, she noticed the energy-user conjure a thunderstorm of sorts, very interesting. Of course, this would not effect her. She was above the entire mess obviously.

However, from up under the fog rose the martial artist. This was unexpected. In fact, out of the ordinary for a human. At the rate he was traveling he would easily reach her if nothing was done to protect her. Again, to her surprise a similar looking being to herself arose from the fog. His wings were covered with blood, and his face was bloodied. He had something against this attacker, and she knew it.

Misty knew her only hope was to dive into the lightning storm, and that would surely be suicide, unless....no, it was impossible. The arm of this angelic-being turned into a solid sword, and it was aimed straight at her attacker. Maybe she could help in this attack, perhaps ally with this being. The only way to aid him however was to get out of the way, and perhaps strengthen him by healing his wounds.

Seeing the opponent come closer and closer, she waited for the time to make my move. Mist dove, with mist behind me, straight into the lightning mist. During this dive however, Misty's pouch absorbed most of the mist in her general area, making a hole in the middle of the arena, where no fog was located. When she saw that her enemy no longer had any hopes of reaching her with his current attack, she simply flew back up and returned to her flying position, near enough to her attacker so that she could observe and wait for the precise moment to attack, or aid her newfound protector.

Of course, that was after she spent sometime channeling her energy into this angelic being, and healing him with the power of water. How he would react, was up to him, but she owed him her life. And she planned to help him anyway she could.

DF	Post #: 23

7/17/2009 15:44:44

TormentedDragon
Member

He had moved far enough, and no one could be certain of exactly where he was now. Not even him. Now, he no longer needed to hide, but to see, and the fog was growing dangerous. He could feel his hairs stand on end, as they sometimes did before a storm on the plains, and did not care to be within the mist for very much longer. Still, confusion would serve him well, and with sight so obscured, he could cause much of it. He sent the sphere that lit his path rolling off into the fog, called another one to hand, and sent it rolling away in another direction, smiling as the fog swallowed its light, making it appear so very similar to the mischievous and deadly Will o' the Wisp.

As for the fog around his body, he wreathed himself in flame, low on the color, heavy on the heat, and watched as the fog roiled away from him, leaving him dry, warm, and altogether very comfortable. When the fog was sufficiently dispersed, he spread out his hands, called the flame about his body to his palms, and pushed upward.

At the same time as the fire boiled up from his hands, it shot from the flames he had sent rolling through the fog, three streams of flame cutting straight through the obscuring mist, twisting, turning, dancing. Now he could see, and with flames in three places, he remained concealed by virtue of distraction, for short while, at least.

What he saw brought a gleam to his eyes. The Keristrana was no longer alone in the skies above, and he no longer had only one target. The white-garbed man was somehow airborne without benefit of wings, and another Wingborne had taken to the air, though his wings looked far less natural than the woman's. In answer to his call, the hidden flame in the sky roared back to life, and stooped like a hawk at its prey, aimed for the Keristrana's back. From one hole in the fog shot his second sphere, bound and determined to sear the face of the white-garbed wingless, and from the other, his third sphere, spiraling upward in an erratic dance, seemingly aimless in its wild wandering.

Post #: 24

7/17/2009 19:37:04

Clyde
Legendary Artist!

It was beginning...

Almost every single strand of his fur began standing on end. Soon there wouldn't be just lightning, but a contained maelstrom. That fog would be the Water Contender's downfall as well as any other brave Contender. It was a shame there was no Wind Contender to stop this, but oh well. As time would pass the storm would grow stronger until it was out of anyone's control, he hoped. He would have to work quick if he wanted to win and not be destroyed by the storm.

The crackling of lighting was visually beautiful, yet you could feel it's power slice the air. The roar of the thunder was symphony to Galvian's ears and he was some sort of composer. There wasn't time to get caught up in the moment, he needed to focus on what was going on. It was going to be hard with the fog impairing his vision, he considered jumping up to see what was happening above, but landing...that would be a problem.

Galvian crouched closer to the rock and had put himself into a ball-like position. He leaned himself forward as his back claws dug into the rock. It seemed like the Light Contender did not plan on waiting any longer to watch the storm develop. To guard he placed his arms together to shield his face and upper body hoping this would suffice. To soften the blow he decided to charge his arms with some electricity. Light, lightning, they were practically kin or even cousins. One refined and destructive, the other shapeless and varied.

His teeth clenched as a response to the pain of the light attack, a few moments afterward it became a smile. After the attack had hit it caused the formed energy to shift back from his arms and dispersed through his legs. The attack also made him slide back, dangerously close to the edge. "It's too late Light," he whispered. "You're going to need a lot more than a simple wave to bring me down." He shook off the pain and he watched the lightning storm crackle and spark taking a few careful steps forward.

Now was the time to start using the storm to his advantage. Energy flowed to his right arm as it pointed towards the sky, his left arm and palm pointing forward. He made himself a lightning rod and waited patiently for a stray bolt to take the bait. The moment it would come in contact he would redirect the power of the lightning forward, hitting anyone in his way.

Post #: 25

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