=Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena

=Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (Full Version)

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Ronin Of Dreams -> =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/16/2008 22:25:15)
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 four offshoot Arenas around the First Arena now used exclusively for Finals, and craft the minor alterations that seemed necessary from year to year. 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. ~~~ It took the enchanters quite a bit of time to get out of the Cellar Arena, as it was quite a ways down into the ground. One could see the granite walls of the main part of the Arena Complex right above the now open heavy metal Cellar gate - the underground arena was placed right under the original, First Arena! One of the now leaving spellweavers conjured up an opened scroll above the entrance, which would levitate there until the end of the match. Those who would care to read it would have found out that the place they are about to enter had more than just regular protective shield enchantments - rather, the ordinary enough looking mirror walls the fighters would find inside were of magical nature, and not only act as a protective barrier for the spectators behind it, but also make any projectile flung at it - magic or not - simply bounce off, much like simple a ray of light would from a regular mirror. On a more disturbing note, the scroll also stated that no wound would ever heal whilst in the Cellar, not even by ways of magic. If the group of healers and doctors standing about just outside the entrance were to be of any consolation, the shovels lined up against the wall and the priests near them were most definitely not. As daunting as that may have been, most of those gathered here had never feared death - lest they would not be there at all - so they began descending the spiral stairway, leaving the shrieks and anxieties of a bloodthirsty crowd behind them - or rather, over them. The upper gate closed with a loud CLANG. The fight was about to begin, but first a quick glance would reveal the interior of the room - it was square in shape, with the mirror walls they knew to expect there... There were four humongous round pillars of plain grey stone, as wide as a man with his arms spread out, in the middle of the room forming a square shape as the room did. Each side of each pillar had a torch on it, and with the mirrors' reflection, the Cellar far from the dark, damp place one would imagine a room of such a name to be. It was actually very dry, uncomfortably dry, and there was something very unnatural to that dryness. Could that have been the enchantment of never-ceasing wounds they sensed? Perhaps. But for now, it was time to forget such thoughts, and cause some wounds instead.

demonhunter -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/17/2008 1:40:31)
=Some weeks ago= "You sure about this? I mean, if Lisa couldn't..." "Yes, I'm sure! I wouldn't send you if I didn't think you could do it!" "You'll do fine, Grace. I just got unlucky, that's all." "... I guess so. Thank you Master, Lisa." "Watch out for any golems." "I know." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =Morning of the EC= The words of her teacher and her classmate still echoed in her head, even though it had been several weeks since that conversation had taken place. Graceella was nervous. She couldn't help it. Lisa had failed in this same competition the previous year... Why did they think that she could do what her superior could not? For that was what Graceella viewed Lisa as: Her superior. She was a better student than Grace was, and, in her mind, a better fighter. She shook her head. This wasn't the time, nor the place. She could worry about trivial things like what her Master was thinking some other time. For now, she needed to focus. A final check of herself and her equipment: a chainmail shirt concealed beneath a flame-red tunic and trousers, her sword at her waist, her two pouches secured to her belt, her wristband in place, and the circlet Lisa has given to her for her eighteenth birthday... All present and accounted for. She was almost ready. She reached for the dark leather boots next to her bedroll, and donned them carefully. She would be moving around a lot, so she would need to be comfortable in her footwear. She didn't want to end the day unable to walk because of pain in her feet. Once the boots were on, she pushed aside the opening to the small tent she had spent the night in, and made her way to the Arena. According to the officials, she had been assigned to the Cellar... The same arena that Lisa had fought in the previous year. Graceella grimaced. She'd heard of the enchantments in this place, and wasn't looking forward to fighting in it. Still, she swallowed her misgivings, and made her way to the entrance. As she made her way in, she went over what Lisa had told her. The mirrors would serve to be useful to her... But the lack of healing could be a problem. She decided she would just have to be careful, and try to avoid any serious harm. Once inside, she made for the pillar farthest from the entrance, and positioned herself behind it, using the mirrors in front of her to observe the other competitors as they, too, made their way into the depths of this, the most unforgiving of the arenas.

Varin -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/17/2008 5:57:58)
<That Morning> Unperturbed by the crowd, Remus Uresti strode towards the Cellar Arena with his usual air of confidence about him. Some people, on noticing the six foot three inch man, shied back; either from his size, or the imposing tattoo upon his visage, or for the determined set of his jaw, or no particular reason at all. With the assignments being posted, his reason to tarry evaporated, and with such, he made his way to the Cellar entrance. Near the entrance of the Arena a tug on his chain mail turned him around. "Hey Mister, what's that on your face?" A small child asked. An absolute look of dread painted itself on the child's mother's face as she saw Remus' tattoo and armaments, for with that tattoo, he looked like a man ready to kill at an instant. Rather than the parent's expected outburst of violence from Remus, he instead crouched down and tousled the boy's hair, "It is a symbol of strength. Or a symbol of agility. I forget what the shaman had told me it was for. Me, I just think it looks interesting, how about you?" While the mother nearly fainted with relief, the child's joy increased only tenfold at Remus' open nature. He excitedly talked with Remus for a short while about it, even getting permission to see if it felt like real feathers, before Remus excused himself, claiming pressing demands. The mother gave a warm smile which Remus returned wholeheartedly before he again patting the boy's head and strode off once more towards the Cellar Arena. ********** The gates had just opened, the first competitor had already entered and left for a far off corner. Remus could glimpse nearly every part of the arena from any other section. He thought to himself, a boon and a bane to be sure. His mind racing, he formulated his plan, and when the officials let the next combatant into the arena, his was the next form through the portcullis; eager to prepare the ground from which his battle will be waged. Seeing that the farthest pillar was already being occupied, Remus contented him with the south west pillar, on the inside, near the "open" area of the arena. His reasoning may be sound, perhaps this part of the arena is the most obscured from sight, and it was closest, giving him time to prepare the field to his choosing before the next competitor arrived. Remus wastes no time before wrenching around to his back left pouch. Thanking every last coin he spent on the dimensional locker enchantment he had placed onto it, he quickly pulls out stack after stack of wet hay, and tosses them to the ground near him. Content with about five small stacks of hay, he also produces a small rectangular piece of matte black metal, an inch wide, an inch tall, and four inches long. With this Remus leans up and set it to the torch on the pillar behind him. The magnesium that was on one half of the block took to flame quickly, setting off a reaction inside of the prism, quickly heating the entire thing. Not one to waste time, or one to suffer a burned finger, Remus tosses the block underneath the hay, to let it catch and smolder. The metal block was designed so that it would keep quite hot for a long time, easily an hour or more, igniting anything easily flammable in contact with it. With the hay being wet, rather than burn, it will only pour off volumes of thick black smoke... eventually. One last precaution, Remus pulls out a dark green handkerchief, and hastily ties it over his nose and mouth. Small wisps of acrid black smoke are already coming from the depths of the pile of hay, but it would be long minutes before any kind of substantial cover was afforded. Best to play it safe though, he thought as he drew his sword and strapped his shield to his forearm.

Kellehendros -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/17/2008 9:38:02)
There was a ripple in the crowd as a man walked through the gate and to the top of the Arena stairs. A few spectators even cheered the man who they recognized as a contestant from last years Championship. Alex ignored the crowd though and simply dropped to one knee at the top of the stairs, depositing his load on the ground before him. There was a scattering of laughter through the crowd as they realized that the mage had just put down a cat that he had been holding in his arms. Slash was fairly well what one would expect from a cat, she was a lithe grey longhair, and only her liquid gold eyes would clue in others that she was more than she seemed. In the depths of those amber orbs swirled knowledge, power, and intelligence far beyond that possessed by most humans, let alone any other feline. Alex glanced up at the magically levitating scroll, and following his gaze Slash's eyes went up and read it. The mage ruffled his familiar's fur with a sad smile. "You don't have to do this you know." Slash glanced from the scroll back to her partner, replying telepathically. "Neither did you, last year." "True, but I learned about what could be lost." "Yes, but because of that, what was found?" Alex nodded, conceding the truth of the question. "I hope it is not the same for you." "Nothing happens the same way twice." He smiled and nodded again, then leaned down and kissed the top of her furry head. "Alright, go down there and give them the Nine Hells for me." "I'll do what I can." The mage stood and watched for a moment longer, and then turned and exited the Arena. Slash sat for a moment, then rose and turned, stalking down the spiral staircase after the first two competitors with feline grace. Arriving on the Arena floor, Slash glanced around, scenting the air. Her nose twitched, and she offered a feline sneeze at the smell of smoke beginning from near the southwest pillar. That was an interesting idea. The smoke would hurt both vision and lungs eventually, perhaps a strategy that would backfire on the tall man who set the blaze, afterall, he was taller than average, which could only mean that the rising smoke would affect him first when it thickened. Slash was hardly concerned either way. She wore a cat's form after all, and its small size would mean that unless the fire grew massive she wouldn't have to worry about the smoke even if it began to obscure the lines of vision. All she needed to see to hit someone was their ankles after all. Slash took a last look around, and then moved slightly off to the side. She sat not too far from the end of the spiral stair and began licking one paw to wash fastidiously behind one ear. The other competitors would surely be surprised to see a cat sitting there, washing unconcernedly, though it remained to be seen whether or not they would think her entrance in the Championship as much of a joke as the crowds surely did.

Silverswordmaster -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/17/2008 11:44:44)
A small, long, snaking trail of fire slid into the arena, the flames flickering brightly at the three competitors already inside the arena as the flames came togeather, and formed the shape of a man, who stepped out of the flames, his eyes darting around before he streched his back with a grin. "It worked... good thing." He said to himself with a chuckle, as he moved to the sides, inspecting the arena before he moved empty corner, close to the cat and the spiral stair. He nodded at the cat, no suprised to see a cat in the arena. "A good fight to you, warrior." He said to the cat with a bright smile on his face. "I must say, this should be a good fight. Once again, a good fight to you." He sat back inthe corner, where he realised that his hand was still on fire, and he quickly put it out. "Drat... I keep on forgetting about that. Put yourself out, THEN relax... Sheesh." He laughed again, checking over his shortswords and hidden blades, making sure they where clear in their sheaths. He extended the hidden blades behind the shortswords, checking everything while it was still hidden from the other contestences as he put the blades away and took a deep breath, hoping that even if this was to be his last battle, it would be a glorious one. He looked over all three of the other combatents, paying close attention to the man who started the fire, glad that he was a firesword himself, as smoke could not bother him, the fire inside of him allowing him to breath smoke as one breathed oxygen. He looked at the mirrors, chuckling as he figured out his plan for the long, gruleing battle ahead.

Varin -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/18/2008 6:06:54)
Remus kept a wary eye on the other three competitors currently in the arena before his eyes locked on the ever-so-familiar cast sitting there, cleaning itself. All color drained from Remus' face, and his mind wandered, drifted, escaped... 15 or more years ago A group of kids stands around, tormenting a lanky, young boy, one sitting on his head to keep him pinned to the dirt. One of their taunts carries on the wind to onlookers ears, most who snicker and walk about their own business if not stopping to stare and cheer the miniature mob on. "Remus, Remus, your name rhymes with a body part! Remus, Remus, enjoy Vincent's smelly fart! Remus, Remus, what a silly, stupid name, Remus, Remus, now we will put you in so much pain!" Between the kicks, the rocks, the sticks, and the jeers Remus took it all stoically, looking for his escape. None came. Hours later he stumbled his way home, bruised, battered, bloody and with broken spirits. He sat at the table in their small one room hovel, dreading what inevitably came next. His father stumbled into the room, drunk, and cuffed Remus upside the head. "Stupid boy, where's the money I asked you to get." The next line was delivered with another, more forceful swat. "Worthless, I wish we had a daughter, maybe then you could be of some* use to me."* His father lumbered over and grabbed their pet cat by the scruff and the rear, a one-year-old mouser named Mittens, and Remus joy in life. "This your cat, boy? Yeah, you love this cat, I've seen how you mess with this damn cat." In one hate filled snarl, Remus' father's arms flexed, snapping the back of the cat with an audible crack and an even louder whine of pain. The cat twitched and moaned as the father raised it again and again, clubbing it to death on his son's own skull. Amidst being beaten and emotionally assaulted, with the taste of his father's alcoholic breath on his tongue and his beloved pet's blood on him, something changed in Remus. Something visceral and animal snapped inside, a part of his good-natured soul that strained until breaking and then some. Likely, he doesn't recall what happened next, but his father sure does. Ask Remus' father about it, he'd deny it ever happened, but the fear in his eyes is proof that something changed about this child. Even though his father never laid a hand on him after that, it certainly wasn't for the better. Moments later in the arena. Remus opened his eyes and his body subconsciously dropped into an almost stalking like pose. If one was close enough, they could see that Remus' eyes were now filmed in a slightly red hue, his left one taking a more orange tint. His sword flicked out and pointed at the seemingly nervous man who just entered and was talking to the cat and fiddling with his weapons. Even Remus' voice took on a darker tone, losing its good natured qualities and picking up a hardened edge to it. "You, boy," Remus' voice dripping with venom, he called out to the whisper thin rail of a man he indicated, "get your scrawny ass over here and lets see what you are made of. Me, I give you maybe three swings before there are bloody pieces of your rotting carcass strewn around me. Who knows, maybe you will take four, you do seem to be a bit on the bony side, boy, and my blade's not as sharp as it could be. But, hmm, won't that just make it hurt all the more? Make sure you let me know, boy, as I carve into your flesh with it." Remus spat on the ground and set himself, content to wait. Perhaps that was foolish, but it is not the first blow that is most important in a fight, it is the last.

ShadowSlash -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/18/2008 8:28:53)
-One night before the EC- Soft sobs shook the little boy’s body as his fingers intertwined through the griffin’s thick golden fur, clinging onto the beast’s neck as it pulsed with each powerful beat of its wings. In one hand was a beautifully crafted staff with a short gleaming blade attached to the top, with a long glass vial extending down the middle of the shaft of the staff. Small bluish and silvery crystals floated in an orbit around the base of the blade. The chilling wind whipped through his hair and pierced his face with millions of tiny needles, drying up the streams of tears trailing across his cheeks. The ends of his dark robe flapped violently, and he buried his face deep into the warm fur. “Why did I ever want to compete in the Championships? I’m not good enough yet… what if I don’t come back alive?” Auron my boy, you’ll be just fine. Just try your best, and remember that your aura spirit will always be with you no matter what. Don’t forget the things we all taught you. “Will you be there to watch me?” Of course I will, but I won’t be in the stands. Just know that I’ll be in the air somewhere, circling around above the Arena. Auron sighed and a little white puff escaped from his lips. He wiped his tears away on the sleeves of his robe and set his face. Don’t worry. And don’t cry so much now, you’re wasting your water. Save it for the Championships. -The morning of the EC- All right, good luck my boy. I know you’ll do well. “Yes, I’ll do my best just like you said.” His face was bright and glowing with excitement, and his heart beat quickly. The unusual silver pupils framed in sapphire blue irises glinted in a lively fashion in the bright morning sun. Mmm…now go. You’re assigned for the Cellar Arena first. The griffin’s beak opened and closed into a resemblance of a smile. “Thanks, wish me luck!” Auron reached up and wrapped his arms tightly around the large beast’s neck, then took up his staff and sprinted off in the direction of the Arena. Ah…Good luck little one… The griffin gazed at the running boy for a moment, then took to the air with a powerful thrust. Entering down the eerie depths of the Cellar, he saw a floating scroll hanging in the air above the metal gate. Well…hmm…I see. Anything will bounce off those surrounding mirrors, should be useful. But…I can’t heal? Fear crept into him and settled in his chest heavily, causing his eyes to start squeezing out fat droplets of tears as he walked into the arena, and as he saw that all four pillars had contestants already next to them, walked quickly towards a cat sitting there, washing his face. What an odd contestant. I better be careful of it. Auron leaned against a mirror quietly a few paces away and behind the cat, the tears still steadily dripping from his silver eyes to the ground. Though the floor was rock and dirt, the tears mysteriously vanished as they hit the ground. The spectators above him sighed with disappointment as they saw a little boy crying in the corner of the arena. No doubt they were thinking, What is such a young one doing here in the fighting arena? Some were probably shaking with laughter at the thought of the puny little boy going against the tough warriors. Auron did not care about those people, but a thought flashed into his mind- the griffin could not see him down here! He clenched his staff, and turned his mind back to the arena and the fight that was probably to come. The people, including the cat, would probably be feeling the effects of the sapphire pendant around his neck soon enough. As a few drops of water dripped from seemingly nowhere into the glass vial encased within his staff, Auron’s mouth twitched with a slight smile. This was the moment he had been training for and waiting for all his life.

demonhunter -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/18/2008 9:38:38)
Others had begun to arrive, and at least one had already made a challenge. It seemed to Graceella that things were about to get ugly. She'd been warned by Lisa that some combatants gave no warning before attacking. Now that one had made a challenge, no doubt others would follow. She would need to be ready... With her right hand, she drew her sword in a swift, fluid motion, holding it comfortably in one hand at her side. With her left hand, hidden from direct view by the pillar at her back, she called fire, gathering, and compressing, it into an orb the size of a large orange. Once formed, she cast an eye at the mirrors, observing her competition. The cat, she wasn't too worried about. She liked cats, and had no real desire to hurt this one unless she had to. The others, however, were fair game... The crying boy... She frowned. Something seemed off. Why would a boy who cried so easily be a competitor? No, she was sure there was more to it than that. A trap, maybe. She would leave this one for now. Observe him for a while, and see what he was capable of, before moving against him. The man who had set haystacks ablaze... He could be a danger, given his tactics, and his current actions. But, he seemed intent on the other male competitor in the arena, which meant that, for now, both males were off limits for now. Graceella didn't like to butt into other people's battles without a damn good reason. So, no targets just yet. She would wait, holding the ball of fire in her left hand, until the time came when she would enter the fray.

Kellehendros -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/18/2008 12:46:51)
The cat paused in her fastidious washing as three more entered the Arena, glancing from the man who addressed her to the huge man who was challenging, and insulting, that smaller warrior who stood a little ways away from her. Slash looked away from the pair for the moment to glance behind her at the small boy who was leaning against one of the Arena's mirrors. Slash's head tilted to one side almost inquiringly as a small smile quirked itself at the corner of the boy's mouth. He was smiling, and yet, at the same time tears rolled down his face, a face that looked well used to such a thing, if the familiar was any judge. Even as the boy's tears fell, there was a dripping of water into the clear tube of the staff he held, and was it just her imagination, or did those tears that streaked their way down his face, gathering into fat droplets at his chin before falling vanish before hitting the ground? If a cat could be said to frown, Slash was certainly doing so now. Was it an affect of the strange spell of unceasing wounds in the Arena that vaporized the tears before they could land? Or was it some strange affect by this boy, who half-smiled even as his odd silver-pupiled eyes wept? The cat shook her gaze from the boy, keen eyes sweeping the Arena. She had tarried her overlong, and now it was time to leave, especially if these two men would soon engage in a combat she had little desire to be involved in, at least, not at this close range. So the cat rose gracefully and simply darted away skirting around behind the massive man, small feet pounding for the nearest pillar. "O messenger of lightning," Slash's telepathic cry rang in the ears of all the competitors, although whether or not they discerned the source was questionable, "hear the call of my voice." The pillar loomed close as the air around Slash began to crackle and hum with electrical energy. "Let Requnion's Wrath be felt by mine enemies!" The cat sprang the last four feet towards the pillar, twisting her body as she flew, hitting and rebounding off the pillar at a height of five feet, she flipped her body with feline grace and speed, orienting herself and completing the spell. "Thunder Arrow!" There was a crackling discharge of energy, and the sudden smell of burnt ozone as the spell released with a snarl of thunder. A blueish bolt of energy seared across the Arena, bounding off the mirror Slash had aimed at with a deafening crash to scream in at the side of the slim man who had been threatened by the larger competitor, who still held his sword out in challenge.

ShadowSlash -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/19/2008 10:51:52)
Auron jumped, startled, as the cat next to him leaped, chanted an incantation, and shot a bright blue lightning bolt at a mirror. It bounced off and sped at “lightning speed” towards the thin firey man who had been challanged by the tall imposing man in smoke. Wow…so that’s what the Elemental Championships are going to be like…I sure wouldn’t want to be in the place of that guy. Watching others make their first move, Auron thought it might be a good idea to start his. Drops of pure clear water still dripped steadily into the staff, and the water level slowly rose. Perfect. As the pendant drew more water from the people around him slowly, the spectators above him would be buying the assorted chilled drinks from the vendors, not knowing why they were so thirsty all of a sudden. As he dried his tears, he thought he heard an echo in his mind of the chants his wolven family and spirit had taught him, and the howls and words mixed to make strange ethereal sounding music somewhat like the crashing waves of the cold arctic sea. Yet in the midst of the jumble one voice stood out; the shivering howls and hums of the humidity spell. “Alright, I’ll trust you. Here comes,” Auron mumbled to the spirits who had probably guided him, and raised the staff a little higher above the ground with a soft crooning howl, so eerie yet so beautiful, escaping from his throat that no one would think it could possibly come from the little boy. It grew in power and the air in the arena itself seeming to vibrate with the clear sound, until suddenly, he threw his head back and let out a gasp, then drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Thick puffy clouds of mist rolled off of his tounge and into the air, where it seemed to stretch, coil around and wrap the whole arena in its humid white shroud. This spell done, Auron straightened up, and took a glance at the staff. The water that had once been in the vial was gone, but again a steady dripping came into the glass. It would eventually refill itself over and over again. But it was a matter of patience and strategy to get the whole vial to fill up, something he hoped he could accomplish. He gestured a little in the air with the point of his staff, and gathered a bit more of the mist in the area around him to mask his presence. The clouds slowly drifted on his command, and he felt comfortable surrounded by so much water. Now he could make his move on others when nessesary. Mother Wolf, I hope you can hear me right now. I wish you could see me. Look at this! It’s a new spell I learned from my aura spirit.[i/] His thoughts turned to darker things, and wondered, But what exactly is my aura spirit? You told me you weren’t my real mother, Mother Wolf, but then who is? Why am I the only one in the pack with an aura spirit? Why am I so different from everyone else? He thought back to the days when his brothers used to look at him curiously with wide eyes, pawing at him as if he were just another interesting rock or tree, an indifferent object. He was only a few days old, but he could remember everything clearly like it just had happened yesterday. But there are a lot of people that look like me and not you here. His meandering thoughts only lead him to grasping the staff harder and focusing on calling water on a short notice.

Silverswordmaster -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/19/2008 20:28:03)
Flare blinked in suprise as the bolt of lighting the cat launched off bounced off the mirror and came flying towards him. He took three steps back and up, running up the mirror walls slightly, using a burst of flame to give him more momentum as the bolt skimmed past his face, almost hitting him directly in the face as it bounced off the mirror below him and away. He flipped over, landing softly. "Well, if I knew we already had gotten started, then this would have been so EASY!" He yelled, flames leaping out of the air to his hand. Flare smiled to himself, savoring the feeling of the fire, the warmth of his closest ally, the flames that loved him like no one else could, his only armor, his savior, his protector... and the wrath that built up inside, the anger that he so carefully bottled so he could unleash it at a moments notice. He took the fireball and threw it at the large man who had challanged him with the sword, and dashed forwards after it, drawing his short swords as he ran.

Varin -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/20/2008 7:40:05)
A feral snarl transformed the face of Remus, which was much accustomed to smiles, into something more, something darker. Though a break in that tough visage occurred when the cat competitor darted in around near his legs; a smile of joy leaked through at that for an instant before his face settled back down into it's hardened façade. The cat's aerial maneuver and lightning bolt were noticed out of the corner of his eye, of which Remus took little note. If he had been in his right mind at the time, perhaps he would have been a little more cautious, lest the next one take him unawares. Remus watched, amused, at the aerobatic theatrics of what was in his mind, his soon-to-be victim, in his dodge of the bolt of lightning; especially when all it would have taken was a sidestep to be clear. As the light mist suffused the arena floor, Remus scoffed, mentally approving the tactic of the child in the arena; especially considering he was accomplishing in seconds what Remus would have taken many long minutes to do. Even half hidden, the fireball streaking in towards Remus was easily located, obvious without having to invoke his ensorcelled tattoo. His smiled and raised his arms, the left one bent at the elbow and parallel to the floor; the right one bent at the elbow, behind the left, and perpendicular to the floor. His sword was raised vertical and Remus' bracers clicked together. The fireball streaked in harmlessly, dissipating to nothingness as it encountered disruptive nature of his enchanted blade. Remus watched as the slim man ran towards himself, loosing a surprise of his own. While to all outward appearances he now looked ready to pick up attacks with either his shield or his sword, dozens of tiny needles of air were released and aimed at the general direction of Remus' opponent when his bracers collided. Small enough to be near invisible when seen from the point on, they made next to no noise, especially through the din of combat. Even the mist was pierced by them, making no more disturbance in that than a trout would to the surface of a calm lake, ten feet down at the bottom.

Kellehendros -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/21/2008 10:25:18)
Slash sailed through the air, noting with only a small pang of disapointment that her attack had missed. She twisted her body with feline quickness, getting her feet under her to land lightly, darting off to one side to avoid any counter attack that might have been aimed at her. The manuever proved unnecessary though, as the slim man was charging the giant, a fireball leading the way. What happened next was a bit confusing. The familiar looked over at the boy who was, well, he was making some sort of noise, what exactly it was Slash couldn't say, although it sounded like some kind of wolf howl. The boy inhaled, and then expelled a great quantity of thick white mist that spread quickly to engulf the Arena. The cat wasn't too concerned, after all, being only a foot or so high, she could pretty much see under the cloud. Still, she wasn't thrilled about the fact that now she was surrounded by water. Sure she was a familiar, and not a real cat in her true form, but in her years inhabiting this shape she had taken on more than a few habits and attitudes of her cat shape, and right now she was not particularily pleased about being surrounded by heavy, humid air. Slash bristled, electricity arcing across her fur and holding the watery cloud a bay, the heat generated by the electricity burned off the mist in an area around her, leaving her sitting in a one foot ball of normal air. It was a waste of effort to do that, but the cat familiar did not want to get wet. She turned, stalking forward by memory to where she had seen one of the other competitors before, boring a hole through the mist that filled in behind her. Her memory proved correct, for in a moment she emerged from the fog near to a woman who still held in her had a ball of fire. Slash sat, the air around her crackling as she addressed the woman. "I don't suppose you could burn this fog off, could you?"

Muse -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/22/2008 14:35:36)
-7 Days Prior To Elemental Championships- The Township Of Bren - Town Square "So- Wait. Tell me again why you're doing this?" Eriphael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because, Reniar, I don't have much choice. I told you. The darkness saved my life once in the northern forests, so now I must repay this favour." "And this favour has to be as plainly suicidal as fighting in the Elemental Championships? Come on, you know the mortality rate attached to this thing. If you come out of there at all, you'll probably lose a limb or two. Go live in a cave up in the northern wastes and devote your life to living in total darkness or something, just... don't go in there. Pull out whilst you still can." "No! Look, you don't understand. It's not just the debt I owe, it's also a chance for me to exercise... you know, him. I can't ever let him out again, but if I knock a few heads together it should keep him happy." Reniar shook his head and and stood up from the bench, stretching lazily. "Well, whatever. If you're really bent on this, I suppose I'd better get to fitting you with a better weapon. That old rusty sword won't last you more than five minutes in a serious fight; the one I've got back at the workshop, now that's a different matter. Three feet of tempered steel mixed with blood iron and colliomide ore, could cut right through a horse..." Together, the two men walked off down a sidestreet. Eriphael did his best to listen, but couldn't help his thoughts drifting off on a tangent. He hadn't really thought about it much before, but a part of him was actually looking forward to fighting. It'd been a long time since he'd ever needed to defend himself; he wondered if he still could... Only time would tell. -The Elemental Championship- Dropoffs - Cellar Arena So far, Eriphael had been watching the others fight. He'd got quite a good impression of their fighting styles and was sizing up who his first target was going to be when the howling boy started giving off some kind of thick, artificial fog; on the one hand, it gave him a fair indication of his element, and on the other it obscured most of the others from view. Ignoring the fog clinging to his body and dampening his lungs, he quickly ran through them and applied the old military tactic of giving each opponent nicknames, to easily identify them in his head. Having waited long enough, he carefully dropped the thin veil of darkness he'd hung over himself and let it pool back into the shadows in the corner. He unsheathed his sword and tested its weight carefully; Reniar had done an extremely good job of making it and now it was time to put it through its paces. He selected his first target - Red was certainly making a spectacle of himself. Eriphael never did like showoffs. He walked steadily through the mist to where he'd last seen his target and unfurled his wings, slipping them out through long slits in the back of his shirt. Bracing himself, he heaved as hard as he could and the fog in front of him was sent spinning away, buffeted by the force of the air. A burning hand appeared, then an arm and the rest of Red. Not wasting a second, he lifted his sword and charged towards the flames, hacking the blade down at the other man's head with a grunt of exertion.

Silverswordmaster -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/22/2008 23:02:52)
Flare blinked as he felt a small bump, slightly pressing on him as he charged forwards, and the pressure backed off. He desided to look later as he charged on, quickly scanning himself as he pressed forwards when suddenly a large man charged at him from the side. Reacting quickly, he stepped to the side, dodging the vertical strike and slashing both blades at the man with a light breath of air outwards, preparing to make a sheild of fire if nessisary. "This is not good." Was the first words that entered Flare's mind as he looked at the wings on the mans back. A cat that shot lighting, a man that could fly, and someone who was firing some kind of needles or something at him. Lucky he was wearing his armor and charging the way he was, or those things probobly would have done some damage. He continued to follow through with the swing, lashing out as accuretly as he could at the winged man's side.

demonhunter -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/22/2008 23:55:49)
The fight had begun between three of the other competitors. Thanks to the boy and his mist, however, Graceella was unable to see them. She could hear them just fine, but still... She liked to be able to see her enemy. The area around the fireball in her hand was free of mist for the moment, thanks to the high levels of heat that it generated. Grace brought her left hand up, and waved it in front of her face a few times, trying to clear the mist away with the flame's heat. To her annoyance, the mist just filled the area back up again. Great, she thought grumpily, First smoke, now mist. And the others are too pre-occupied trying to beat the snot out of each other. She rolled her eyes after this last thought. Men... A slight crackling noise on the ground caught her attention, and drew her eyes. The cat, of all things, was sitting there, the air around it crackling with electricity, keeping the mist at bay. It addressed her telepathically, and Grace frowned. "I don't know. If I use fire, we'll just end up with steam. And I'm not too certain if I can generate enough heat without fire..." she paused, thinking for a moment. "Then there's that burning haystack to deal with..." Her gaze had shifted while she'd been speaking, watching for the slightest change in the mist that might signal a possible attack. Now, she looked back at the cat. "I can try, though. Watch my back?"

Ralor -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/23/2008 1:03:22)
I’m late! Frost snarled mentally to himself as he pushed his way through the crowds that still seemed to populate the streets of Bren. The arena that Frost was assigned to was all the way across town and he knew that they’d close the gates soon after opening them. After all you weren’t supposed to escape the cellar with your life. At the rate that Frost was making his way through the crowds it was likely that the big lizard would miss the drop-offs completely. Thus he’d lose by default and for Frost at least losing was synonymous with death. Such drastic situations can only be handled with drastic measures. Frost drew the huge broadsword from across his back and brandished it before him. Gripping it in both hands he swung the blade towards the nearest person, a rather rough looking man with a sword, and removed his head from his torso. “Out of my way!” Frost roared at the people still milling about as the man’s decapitated corpse slumped to the ground, bits of ice already forming around the cut. The people were only happy to oblige him as they ran to get out of the maniac’s way, their stampede effectively blocking any guards that had been nearby from pursuing him. Frost wasted no time in dashing through the gap he had created, the long stride of his seven foot tall body eating up the distance between him and the cellar. The stairway to the underground arena was right before him. It had taken Frost the better part of an hour to make it across town at full sprint but now it was before him. The only hurdle left was the stairs down to the dark arena. Frost charged down the steps faster than he had charged across town for the gravitational forges were letting him gain momentum. The gates to the arena were just starting to be closed when Frost burst through them at full kilter, right into the middle of the mist. A minute, maybe more, later the gates clanged shut. Frost huffed and puffed in the humid air as he tried to get back the breath he had lost in his run. The air though was so soaked with water it took quite a bit extra for him to get his breathing back to normal. With his breath once again regular Frost had the chance to let his crimson red eyes flick through the mist. Thick and white it obstructed his view past about two feet and hid his opponents from his view. Yet Frost was sure they were there for he could feel the heat of their bodies and hear the sound of conflict. Frost gripped the handle of his broadsword tightly and prepared for the worst.

Varin -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/23/2008 6:55:34)
Remus watched, curious, as a dark entity materialized from the mist, the form of a demonized man, wings and all. To Remus' slight disappointment, his opponent was not Remus himself, but rather, the man who ended his charge at Remus' feet. So instead of opening up his gullet, Remus contented himself to take his attack from behind, being that slender one spun around to deal with the demonic one. And so Remus could see his neck, that sweet, delicious, slender, exposed neck, thin and frail, tantalizing him to take a swing, as his mother's must have his father. And so, as Remus initiated his swing, his entire essence behind the blow, as the onslaught of memories came tumbling back yet again. 20 or so years ago A child of but five, Remus sat, batting a pig-intestine ball about on the table. He could watch his mother, cheerful, if a bit downtrodden, finish making a hearty supper for the family. His father, a bit too heavily in the ale, was waiting for his food, jeering all the while, cook faster, trash, my drink's getting warm. Smiling still, she sets it in front of her husband with a smile, enduring an over-forceful pinch on the bottom for her efforts. His first bite and his last come within a minute of each other, not even bothering to taste her cooking, which by all reports, is the talk of the hamlet. The father's chair goes flying across the room, along with his knife and fork. He lunges forward and grabs his wife by the throat, and brings her to within an inch of his face, forcing her to "enjoy" his fetid breath. You stupid tramp, you good-for-nothing harlot! Make me endure this slop, day in, day out. Suffer for it, wench, until you make me something better. His first strike and his last come within a minute of each other, not even bothering to listen to her screams, which by all reports, end up being the talk of the hamlet... Remus, terrified, watches it all from behind the door frame. His mother's body laying there, glassy-eyed, takes on a peace in death that she only enjoyed in life during private moments with her son. Her neck lays there, exposed, an unnatural angle allowing the sunlight through the window to glint off of her swan-neck, as Remus' tears fall free. The Constable bought it off as an accident, even accepting the bruises on her body as marks from where she fell. Remus knows different. Remus has seen the beast that is man. In the Arena Remus' swing in towards the slender one's neck came with a soundless scream. Too angry, enraged, and focused, his voice finds some supernatural quality that it was never known that a voice could possess. Cones of sound waves, warbling, blast their way towards the slender one as Remus' blade makes its descent towards whetting his insatiable thirst for blood.

Kellehendros -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/23/2008 13:48:31)
Slash peered at the woman for a moment, then glanced away, towards the billowing cloud of mist. She glanced back again, and nodded, a most unfeline gesture. "Do your best, we'll make do with what we can get." The 'we's' were intentional, Slash's roundabout way of informing the woman that the familiar expected this exchange to bind the two as allies, at least for the short term. Perhaps ally was too strong a word to use. Slash was a predator, no matter how cute or harmless her current form seemed, and she was old, very old. Like as not Slash's experience and predator instinct would turn her against this woman in the blink of an eye if things started to go wrong; cats were never known for great loyalty. Still, for a while this fire woman could be a useful tool to the familiar, one she planned to use to shift the field to a place less favorable to the water mage. The cat blinked, her pupils contracting and her head jolting to one side as though she was struck. Her ears went back flat against her head and a growl began deep in her small chest. Someone was throwing around a lot of sonic energy, the noise, likely beyond human hearing, grated madly on Slash's senses. She hissed angrily, the crackling around her growing stronger. "I call upon the lightning Sylph," the noise increased still, a ball of lightning forming above the cat. "Vessa, hear by cry, unleash your fury of thunder! Lightning Bolt!" The ball expanded, and then exploded forwards, a bolt of lightning like a massive spear easily a foot wide that seared through the water heavy air towards the source of the sonic disturbance.

cmgaugler -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/23/2008 19:24:07)
The cheering, jeering crowds washed their noise over him like the waves of a storm at sea. And he was that little boat, struggling to hold itself together against the turmoils of the world- pounding and crashing into the surf with a brave prow held upwards, like a finger toward the clouded sun. He would not falter- he would not fail; for though the match be ceded, he could never lose. All their lives depended upon him- the young children laughing gaily, though their minds be bright and clear with innocence and dull with naivety- the older individuals clutching upon their crutch with a sort of loving dependency, their wives or husbands or naught but themselves besides them in a comforting notion. He strode through the gathering dust, eyes half-lost in emotion, half-clear with unimpeded sight. His hands tightened as he heard clearly through his advanced hearing, the murmurs running through the crowd as they saw him- a few eyes gaping, a few throats clearing, a few jaws dropping. He kept on walking. It's James... James...James Gardineir...it couldn't be... How many years had he been fighting in this world- not too many, but in that time he had traveled nonstop, fighting and doing justice wherever he could find it. His golden armored-boots settled into the sand with a thud and he walked on. "James...Warrior of Light...here.." They could not believe it, but as the thought settled in a slight chant began to drive amongst them. He was a young warrior- only 24- and yet he had more recognition than men twice his age who had settled themselves complacently into dusty old tomes and forgotten libraries. He ran an armored hand through his brown hair and smiled softly, and as he passed through the crowd and read the scroll above the door, he paused and thought for a brief moment. "Good to know- I'm glad that they told me this before I entered the damn thing." He took a step forward, and as he did so, a sound threatened his oasis of calm from behind. There was a scream, a cry far in the distance of pain and fright, and he could see far away a huge form looming from beyond where the heat of the sun wavered sight. He paused, a hand reaching forward to draw his sword, and then the thought hit him- this figure was staring right at him, or rather past him at the entrance to the arena. The door creaked above him- began to fall down, and he made his choice. He lowered his hand and entered the arena; the door could not hold his strength anyway, if he wanted out. These walls couldn’t- the arms of his enemies couldn’t. He was going to enter this place- that decision had already been made before. And then he did so, a golden ship passing from the storm into a darker abyss where perils slept not, but waited in the pitch and the trees. The dim light from the torches glittered against his body. James was clad from neck down in golden armor of various grades, from the bright and shiny of his breastplate to the scuffed and dirty of his shoes, to the nonexistent golden armor of his chainmailed hands for greater mobility. An overly-large longsword was strapped to his back by way of a leather holder stretching across his chest, and a few pouches were held tight against his side along with a long, sheathed cooking knife. Otherwise, he carried nothing with him. The warrior trod down the darkened steps, his boots clanging softly against the stone until he reached the last step and, as a result, the battlefield in which he was to combat others. He sighed as he took that last lurch off; feet heavy against the wet air, and within a moment, sped off into a dark shadow to the left of the entrance, behind the pillar which stood there- though nothing could be seen within the mist and smoke anyway. The air was heavy with a mist that clung to the skin, thought it did but invigorate him- the worry aside for the moment about fire or energy users. He would heed that need when it came. He was not disappointed in his earlier judgment either. He continued to hear the creaking, sliding sounds of the door closing, and as the door sounds ceased a large weight crashed itself against the stone and a seven-foot tall giant entered the chamber. He had been half-wishing, half-dreading for such a thing to happen- now he need not worry for those above, for the behemoth was with him now. However, that was also the problem- now the thing was his problem to deal with, and that enormous sword was not a child’s toy. It was the same size as his own. “Just my luck. Stuck in this dark confined space with no room to fight someone like him. Figures..” He sighed, and considered for a moment drawing his sword, but he let his hand drop instead. Forget the need for surprise he- …Let’s just say that for one with heightened hearing akin to that of an animal or an elf, the sound of a grating, searing war scream caught his attention right away, even if the sound was fading in and out of the audible realm. A hand came to his ear, then fell away as the sound reached its crescendo and out of his hearing range. He sighed, “That can’t be good; I really doubt the possibility at least.” He began to summon his mana and pool it in his arms before turning back to the foe before him. He walked toward the man. “Oi,” he called, “Perhaps you should give up now. I’m a little arrogant, and from what I judge you aren’t quite a match for me. I won’t kill you, of course; that’s just not in my blood, but I can make it so that death is preferable.” “Of course,” he paused, a finger coming up to stroke his cheek, “That’s lying upon the idea that you aren’t stronger than I am. We shall see.” He let his mana surge about his body in an even flow, like a river running through his veins. If he needed his magic, he could draw upon it with a thought- and the true strength of his he kept locked away inside. He wouldn’t unleash that on these people, under any circumstances. The results would be too tragic to consider. “Let’s dance, ‘k?” Two balls of mana appeared in his hands, radiating outward as more energy was put into them. By changing the way these particles of mana acted and reacted, they began to shine brightly- light cutting muddled through the mist to shine in the dark shadows around James. His balls of light energy were ready, and his body itself began to shine with light as the energy pulsed and flowed fast. A thought occurred. “Hmm…if you so wish, perhaps I could learn your name, to stop calling you ‘man’ or ‘person’. I do this every Elemental ‘Slaughter’-ships; (cursed things, killing others for the damn crowd’s enjoyment, may they burn), because it makes life easier for all. My name is James Gardineir; whether that means anything to you matters not. Just try to keep up,” and he turned and shot the first ball at the man’s feet, gauging his powers.

demonhunter -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/24/2008 0:10:51)
The cat seemed to be in agreement, and had already started making moves against the other competitors. Graceella nodded to herself, and turned her attention to what she had to do... or at least, try and do. The fireball in her hand expanded, flames licking over her skin and clothing. Through concentration, she was able to protect herself from burning up as she spread the flames out over her entire form. Once covered, she began to focus on the intensity of the flames, hoping that the heat they generated would keep the mist at enough of a distance to prevent it from being extinguished. "Alright," she muttered to herself, "that's the easy part over with. C'mon Graceella, you know you can do this, just focus..." Her attention divided now, between protecting herself from her own flame, and intensifying the heat of the flames, she was all but defenceless; hence why she had asked the cat to watch her back. She had no desire to be cut down now. Slowly, the heat around Grace and the cat intensified and expanded, driving the mist back as it did so. Her brow furrowed in concentration, Graceella let the heat grow as far as she was able to control it; enough to create a mist-free area with a radius of around fifteen metres. That was the best she could do without letting her self-protection slip: The best she could do without burning herself up. It would have to be enough.

ShadowSlash -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/24/2008 8:24:54)
A slight whistling disturbance caught his ears, and Auron shook his head annoyedly. At least the sound isn’t coming towards me… He heard three late contestants enter, though they seemed to set their targets to others, not himself or those around him. Looking down, he saw the water in his staff had risen to the halfway mark. The glass was half full, so to say, or is it halfway empty? A puzzled expression came over the child’s face as he pondered over the trivial question in the midst of a raging battle arena, then decided it was more than halfway full as the water level rose above the small horizontal etching in the glass. What should I use it for? Ah… He noticed how the mist started disappearing in some areas, and it became thinner and thinner. He shook his head annoyedly again. Who’s doing that? Whoever it is, they will suffer for it… He felt in the area around him for a mass of water; no, not the thick droplets of mist. A mass that should be hidden from all now…a soothing cold reserve of clear liquid…powerful, yet refreshing to him. His mind reached out towards the ground, and touched the fairly large pool of water beneath the floor, spread out in the small crevices in the rock, the water he had stored there in the beginning of the championship drop-offs in the form of his tears. Good. I suppose it’s enough to do the trick. But…more wouldn’t hurt. Gesturing slightly with his staff, half of all the water in the vial emptied into the ground, and seeped in as before. Then, as an afterthought, he flipped the staff upside down, thrusting the blade down. Nothing seemed to happen, except for marking the ground with a small dent, but mist once again slowly emitted from the crystals orbiting around the staff. This time though, it seemed to go on for a long time, eventually encasing the staff’s blade and the air around Auron in a veil of white gauze. The boy’s face was unnaturally serious, as he knew already the dangers of battle- had the spectators been able to see his face through the swirling patterns of mist, many would have grown somewhat frightened, as such a face did not suit one that young. His thin brows furrowed in deep concentration, then focused his eyes on the radius of empty air- that is, empty of the mist that should have been there. A lightning bolt had struck from there earlier; the cat from before must have been getting rid of the mist. However, as he approached closer, he saw not one cat, but a flaming shape of a woman. She was the one who was keeping Auron’s mist at bay, the heat from her flames dissipating the mist. As his silver gaze pierced through the mist at those hated flames, only one thought was in mind: douse the fire, banish the uncomfortable heat. There was that cat to think of too, but he would take care of that when necessary. The flames were first. Auron kept behind his cloak of mist still emanating from the crystals, and silently called forth the reserve of water beneath his feet. He let the tendrils of water lick into his feet, rising into his legs, gathering speed and coursing through his body, enjoying the ethereal feel it gave. A shiver ran down his spine, not with cold, but with power, but he knew he had to let the water back to the ground for his spell to work. The moment this thought came to mind, the liquid obeyed his command and filtered out of his system like a tide of water falling back… streaming into the rock… then rushing forth towards his target as the current of a starved river when it receives torrents of rain. It shot under the ground in a rumble towards the fire-woman, finally freeing itself of the ground as a thick jet stream of compressed water about three or four paces long. Spiraling through the air as the speed whipped the strands of water into a rope-shape, it was aimed directly at the woman’s back, and supposing it hit, would at the very least leave large bruises, and douse her of the flames that consumed her. It only took half of the water in the ground, as the other half stayed underground as Auron’s guard loyally. He hoped it hit, but he couldn’t just stand there waiting to see the result of his attack. ”A warrior should always stay in motion” my teacher used to say… He grasped the staff spear-style, then noticed the mist had stopped generating from it. The glass was again, empty of water, and it was time to refill it…with the blood of his enemies.

Kellehendros -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/25/2008 0:14:38)
The fireball held by the woman expanded, engulfing her body in flames that hissed and crackled, dancing about her. She seemed unconcerned with them though, and the heat of the blaze surrounding her began to thin the mist that the water entrant had coated the Arena with. Slash glanced about, standing warily, her long fur standing up in all directions and giving her the appearance of being larger than she truly was. There was a faint crackling around her as well, and the occasional spark arced across her body as her golden eyes searched the thinning barrier of mist. There. The boy was coming. Doubtless he was unhappy that his mist was being countered and was looking to rectify the situation. Slash's nose twitched, and the air around her crackled as she gathered in more power for her next spell. She called back to the fire mage, not taking her eyes off the boy. "Enough, he comes." The familiar didn't wait to see if the woman heeded her advice, or was even paying attention. She started moving even as there was a rumbling crack from behind the fire mage. Slash darted forwards in a weaving charge at the boy, trailing the scent of burning ozone as a ball of energy coalesced abover her. The energy ball flattened and then lengthened out into a lance of lightning. Slash skipped to one side nimbly, the lance launching for the boy's stomach as she dodged aside at the last moment to avoid the reach of the boy's odd staff.

Varin -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/25/2008 21:14:55)
Remus' wordless scream ceases as his sword connects, the keen edge parts a fine line in the back of his opponent's neck. Remus' entire weight crashes down like an avalanche once he notices his aim is true, hewing through the flesh and bone of his opponent like an axe through a sapling's limb. The red film of Remus' eyes finds a mirror in the blood; a crimson dawn that breaks upon his sword. Time seems to stand still to onlookers as the visage of Remus' opponent contorts in the briefest of grimaces of pain before fading, becoming no more than a memory. The head of the warrior once known as Flare comes free with a spray of blood; his body falls to a kneeling position before slumping forward to the ground. Warm droplets of Flare's lifeblood spatter Remus' exposed face before running down to collect on his chain mail, saturating his doublet and pasting the garment to his chest. Blood lust satiated, the demon that seems to have infected Remus flees, leaving the gentle soul there to glimpse the handiwork of the beast that is inside of him. Wha..What have I done? is all Remus can think to utter, his voice shaky and breathless, as his opponent's head comes to rest at his feet, facing him with an accusatory stare. Anything further remains a mystery to even Remus himself as a foot-thick spear of lightning screams in, crackling in its intensity. The bolt connects soundly with a reverberating *CRACK* of a thunderclap that sounds throughout the underground arena. Easily half the force of the bolt of lightning ablates itself on Remus' shield, slightly scorching the wood of the heater shield, sending tendrils of energy arcing through the metal frame. The remaining torrent of energy thunders in, connecting with Remus' blood-stained chain mail hauberk. Remus' gray eyes roll back in his head as his teeth clack together when the lightning strikes him. The mist contained in the air, the condensation on Remus' skin, and his blood-soaked doublet serve to enhance the familiar's strike. Akin to receiving a gale where there was but the expectation of naught but a breeze, Remus is carried through the air like a leaf on the wind. All that was left in his wake is a single smoking boot. His landing is not a gentle one, evidenced when his head connects sharply with the hard stone floor of the arena. A metal clatter can be heard as Remus' sword goes spinning off into the gloom. Nothing more than a faint stirring can be heard coming from Remus as he slowly fights his way back from unconsciousness.

demonhunter -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Cellar Arena (7/25/2008 21:21:44)
The cat's warning rang clearly in Graceella's mind, prompting her to immediately draw the flames back into the fireball they had originally formed. Unfortunately, only half the flame was re-formed in this manner when the water-stream struck her back. Her right side was free of flames, but, unfortunately, the water struck just to the left of her spine, where flames still burned bright and hot. A sudden cloud of steam formed in an instant, in a sort of explosion that sent Graceella reeling forward. The flames covering the left side of her back and her left leg were extinguished, but the flames around the left side of her head continued to draw towards the fireball in her left hand. Wincing in pain, she turned to glare in the direction the cat had dashed off in. As the ball of fire in her hand absorbed the last shreds of flame, she held it up in front of her face, compressing it as tightly as possible. The ball burned with the same intensity as the flames she had covered herself with, and despite the loss of half the fire, was the same size as before because of that intensity. With a grunt of effort, and not a little pain, Graceella hurled the orb in the direction of the water competitor, holding her stance with one arm outstretched, her hand still positioned as though it were holding the ball. When the ball was out of her mist-free zone, she closed her left fist, causing the ball to explode in a conflageration of flames that spanned six metres in diameter. Any mist that hadn't been cleared by the heat evaporated into a cloud of steam that expanded even further. Graceella had been struck from behind. She could not, and would not, tolerate this.

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