RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (Full Version)

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Mirai -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/6/2011 18:56:48)

Narrowing her grey eyes, Salina almost nodded in approval as fissures suddenly splintered through the great ice shield. At least I didn’t try a frontal assault. Instinctively, the former guard captain picked up her pace. Sprinting forward, her supple leather boots whispered over the arena’s dusty surface, her cream cloak floating behind her.

In moments the glacial construct was laced with fractures, lines criss-crossing and intersecting with one another in a beautiful array, before it exploded into a cloud of floating fragments. Salina’s own spider-silk mesh-web fell limply to the floor, a testament to the razor edged sharpness of the hovering icicles. Myriad jagged perforations bisected the net as it lay pathetically on the ruby red sands. Better move fast, or I’ll be full of holes next…

Spotting a potential opportunity for using her enemy’s sorcery against him, the quick-witted wind witch rapidly removed her steel whistle from her lips. An instant later, she expelled her saved breath, sorcerous powers instantly catalysing the paltry puff into a surging gale aimed at the mage’s ominous cloud of floating frozen fragments. But swift as Salina sent forth the blusterous air blast, the wintry wizard was faster, bringing up his left arm up to point at her. A split-second later frozen fragments were flying forward at the mage's command, myriad bolts spitting toward her.

Immediately recognising that her sorcerous blast lacked sufficient space to check the momentum magically imbued in the shards, the auburn haired woman dived to the arena floor, battle-honed reflexes sending her skidding along the dusty surface. Scarlet sand flew up in response to Salina's fall, friction ripping and burning at her silk tunic and leggings. As she slid forward, the former Captain grabbed hold of her cloak, twisting it round to partially envelop herself in the spider silk. Though a few of the shards would be slowed by her earlier wind blast, Salina was wholly aware of the deadly potential of the mage’s sorcery.

More by luck than judgement, the former coven mistress’ beeswax earplugs had remained in place through her sudden fall, screening her from sound. Temporarily deaf to the world, sight shielded by her cloak, Salina was largely unaware of the frozen shards shattering against the arena’s circular side, icy crystals exploding into tiny slivers as they ruptured against the wall’s impermeable surface. However, the innovative fighter was all too aware of the darts splattering like icy rain against the edge of her cloak, and of one particularly vicious splinter searing against her right ankle as it savagely sliced along her flesh. Momentarily prostrate upon the floor, she hissed in pain, sucking in oxygen.

Hell’s teeth, those darts are nasty. Treacherously, a tear of pain trickled from the edge of her right eye. Still alive girl: focus on that. Now move, or he’ll give you something to really get upset about.

With supple swiftness, Salina sprung back to her feet, inwardly wincing at the pain this prompted from injured foot. Her grey eyes flashed left and right, having momentarily lost sight of her foe. Spotting him trying to circle around her, she couldn't help but smile in approval. Frosty might be young, but he's a boy after my own heart. Then the auburn haired fighter placed her reinforced steel whistle to her fulsome lips once more. Instantaneously, metal shrieked in protest at the torment visited upon its fibres, as the champion of wind sent another of her sorcerous gust screaming through the instrument’s frame, grating and grinding on the ears. The cacophony rapidly rose in shrillness and fluctuating intensity, screeching and howling with all the pleasant pitch of fingers scraping away at a thousand blackboards, creating an audio assault for the ice mage's soul and senses.

-----


Meanwhile, hundreds of miles from Bren, the Clerks of Tairon were getting restless.

A shining silver ball hung in the corner of their dusty office, projecting images of the bloody deathmatch. Voluminous papers lay untouched; quills lounged beside their pots of ink, as the guardians of the kingdom’s standing orders watched the final scenes of this year’s elemental championships. Normally a quiet corner of the palace, the bureau was unusually filled with the buzz of noise and chatter.

The younger officials quietly cheered and sighed at the brutal conflict, caught up in the excitement of the contest. Some watched in slack jawed amazement at the fall of the giant demon, others talked excitedly about how the light wielder had now been involved in defeating two of the fallen champions. Two of the bureaucrats quietly shook hands on a small wager, each confident that their chosen fighter- respectively the ice mage and earth warrior- would be crowned triumphant.

But the more senior Clerks looked nervously to each other, their thoughts focussed on the Betrayer: and her continuing survival. Even Gunthar, normally so unflappable, had a frown on his face, his fingers clasped together, arching up as if in prayer. The First Clerk had thought it imprudent to enter the treacherous woman in the tournament in the first place, considered the Elemental Championship Committee’s Lords unwise to engage in such foolery. Unfortunately, this was a case where the limitations of a Clerk’s role- to advise, and leave the Lords to formally make decisions- were apparent.

Even so, with her sorcerous powers all but stripped from her, the risk of the Betrayer actually succeeding in the tournament had seemed slight. But still the accursed woman refused to do them all a favour and just die. Worse, the courage she showed, the relentless determination she exhibited, even her annoying jokes and tricks… all of this would be winning her allies amongst the populace. Already he could imagine the stupid peasants cheering her on as ‘one of them,’ how they would quickly forget the destruction she had near-wreaked on the city of Nagraith. And that in turn could make things would become more difficult for the Clerks. Crop failures could not so easily be blamed on the traitorous captain. Tax rises could not so quickly be explained as necessary due to the devastation resulting from her uprising. The people would not so readily be united with common bonds of hatred for the Betrayer.

Gunthar’s frown deepened, his thumb nails slowly circling against one another. If Marcos ‘the frozen archive’ Vardiante didn’t hurry up and eliminate the two-faced snake of witch… a new scapegoat might be required. For the good of Tairon, of course.



superjars -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/7/2011 1:27:31)

He simply lay there. Air struggled into his lungs with each haggard breath, the energy drained out of him from the effort of what he had just accomplished. He knew he really didn’t have much time before he should be back on his feet, ready for battle, but for these few, sweet seconds, he needed his rest. He started to close his eyes, back to the almost welcome darkness that had before suffused his vision, but just as he did, a figure rushed by him, swift enough that he did not catch who it was.

Uh-oh. One of the other competitors already, was all he could think as he tightened up for the blow he knew would come, covering up his vital parts as much as he could, his eyes closing instinctively. But then, no strike came. He slowly opened his eyes, staring up at the arena ceiling, the screaming audience, and his curiosity got the better of him. He rolled over onto his side, aided by the sands at his back, until his hands were firmly planted on the dunes before him. He heaved himself slowly to his feet, waiting until he was almost erect before glancing over to see the creature he had just disposed of. But the sight that met him caused his blood to boil. Someone was kneeling before the thing, vaguely recognizable from where he now stood, and while he watched, they thrust their hand into the creature.

Goshen could feel the heat in his face as his anger rose, his body stalking forward unbidden as he prepared to rage against whoever it was that was performing their unholy sacrilege against his opponent and, worse yet, his honor. He reached down with one large hand, moving it towards the slight shoulder before him, and practically yelled down at them:

“What in the fifteen hells do you think you are do-”

The gargantuan man faltered, his words washing away like letters drawn in the sands as the tide rose. He could feel the red drain from his face as his eyes alit upon the glowing hand now pressed into the core of the beast. His hand stayed frozen, inches above the shoulder, which he now identified as Leira’s. He suddenly felt very stupid, joined with ecstatic that she was still both alive and well within the arena walls. An audible gulp escaped his throat, thankfully masked by an annoying screech coming from behind him. He was tempted to turn away, check out the other battles that raged in this place, ignore what was right in front of him. But, he couldn’t take his gaze away from her: the rise of her back as she breathed, the curve of her neck, the way her hair danced as a slight breeze played with it. He had known this time would come, but he had not expected it so soon.

“Leira. It’s time, isn’t it?”



.Discipline -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/7/2011 16:54:34)

Dajaal could recall the fleeting memories of his defeat, the very weight of his own body being forced down on his head had rendered him incapacitated. He couldn't have moved, spoken or retaliated as a shimmering light filled his half-conscious vision. It seemed as if he was hallucinating as the glistening figure approached him, drenched in the golden glow of the Light Lord.

For the first moment in his entire existence, Dajaal did not have hatred, he did not have resentment nor murderous intent, he wasn't even upset, for he knew he had been bested, that he had given his very physical being for his Lord and that his goal, although not completed to the degree he had hoped, was fulfilled. He could now do what he had never imagined possible before as he stared into the glamor which plunge itself deep into his very core, he did not feel discomfort or pain, but only soothing calm filling his form as the light shone out of his every orifice before his entire body had dissipated, the final words he would hear before his exit from the world of Lore:

Rest in Peace

Dajaal awoke from what had seemed like either a fantastic dream or a terrible nightmare. The truth was that it had been neither, his summoning was all too real as had been his demonic form, but this all seemed like a distant ordeal and he was unsure that any of it was even true.

In the deepest fathoms of the elemental plane of darkness, floating particles of what may have been the most merciless and cruel entity ever to have existed twisted and darted in and out of a tremendous series of obsidian caverns. Somehow they seemed much less malevolent now, somewhat playful perhaps. This was now, although still brimming with the energy of darkness, a demon's heart sated by the light of one so pure as to set it free and another so brave as to free her in turn.

Lord, I now know what it is you wanted from me.. what your design has entailed, and I am truly sorry.

And so another age awaited this energy as it thrust itself through the void. Maybe such a creature should be forgotten, damned by the pages of history, or perhaps it will live on forever, weaving through the fabric of murky and inconceivable shadow until another is brave or foolish enough to call upon this twisted power again, to unleash the chaos of Dajaal...



Krey -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/7/2011 19:37:34)

She was on the ground, though it was unfortunately not his doing. She'd evaded rather well, he had to admit; hard to aim properly at an opponent on the ground, especially when the shards weren't in line with him. It was nothing like firing a bow; even though he could pick out a target, accuracy was spotty at best, but a spray of blood as one of the frozen pieces ripped along her ankle told him he'd not missed entirely.

She was on her feet quickly, and he spotted that something shiny again reaching her lips. He'd stopped her last time, but this time he had nothing prepared. There was only to keep moving, try and avoid whatever she might be firing his way, but he realized too late that there was no avoiding this weapon. The shriek that filled the air rivaled the roar of the Champion of Darkness, when he'd faced him in the Cellar Arena, and he was glad he'd not begun to move in towards the woman yet. Bad enough his eyes slammed shut, hands clasping onto his ears. The headache and instant ring told him he'd not be recovering easily from this, even as he took several hops back away, placing as much distance between the Champion of Wind and himself as he could.

When his eyes opened again, it was to see the Ice Pillar was gone, and realization struck instantly as to what that meant. Hm. Done, am I? Very well. It's not worth your life, Marcos.

His hands left his ears and he raised them above his head. “Looks like it's game over for me, love,” he said grudgingly, a cocked smirk crossing his features as he began taking steps towards the gate. “Maybe we can pick this up another time, eh?” He kept his body towards her, not willing to take his eyes off her for even an instant. “How's about you go on and win this thing? I'll be sticking around long enough to see it... From outside, of course. Then I've got things to do, places to be.” Soon after, he was out the gate, making his way out of the arena.

“Well. That's a disappointment. Let's take some time and reflect on what we did wrong, shall we?”



Mirai -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/8/2011 18:22:41)

Salina blinked, surprised by Marcos’ abrupt surrender.

Seeing her foe incapacitated by her sonic scream, the wind witch had ceased her whistle’s shrill cry and raced forward, seeking to press home her advantage before her dark haired foe retaliated with another of his icy charms. Each step brought fresh splinters of hurt, as her injured ankle added its voice to the song of misery being woven by the various pain sources around her body, each competing for her attention. But as the silver bangled youth raised his hands over his head, the cream cloaked fighter realised that their fight was at an end. Elated by the victory- though mildly disappointed to lose the youngster’s company- she removed the whistle from her lips, and tidied her beeswax earplugs back into a pair of pockets. Something in the mage’s eyes, some sagging in his spirit told her that the pillar of ice had also vanished.

His cocky smirk remained unchecked though. “Looks like its game over for me, love,” he said, walking with still-confident self-assurance toward an exit. “Maybe we can pick this up another time, eh? How's about you go on and win this thing?” The former guard captain smiled at the youngster’s encouragement, noting how even now he kept his eyes trained on her. Wary of one last attack… or do you have something else in mind Frosty?

Nearing her, the wintry wizard continued to speak: “I'll be sticking around long enough to see it... from outside, of course. Then I've got things to do, places to be.” In response, she grinned, pleased that the youth’s brash arrogance remained unchecked even in defeat. Who wouldn’t fill their schedule after a deathmatch? Laughter danced in Salina’s grey eyes, as she sashayed intimately close to her departing foe’s athletic build. Demurely glancing down, she placed one hand gently down upon the mage’s forearm to momentarily check his stride, and whispered into his ear: “I’m sure you do Frosty. But why don’t you stay in Bren for a night or two first? As you said yourself, perhaps we can pick this up later.”

Brief as a humming bird’s kiss, she ended her palm’s contact with the ice mage’s skin, turned sharply on her heel, and calmly strode out toward the centre of the arena. A smile played over the ex-coven mistress’ pink lips as she glided forward, but her long lashed eyes were now trained firmly on the remaining combatants in the gladiatorial death-match. Focus girl- you can play later. Her smile faded, replaced by a determined set to her jaw. Whoever this pair is, between them they’ve beaten everyone else in the arena. Self-consciously she checked at her belt, her feet still treading shadow-soft against the ground. Meanwhile you’re walking wounded and you’ve used up most of your weaponry. This is going to be fun.

Conveniently, the couple appeared to be momentarily focussed on each other, allowing the mistress of storms a chance to analyse her foes without fear of imminent attack as she stalked closer. Given Salina’s conflict in the Sky arena had focussed primarily around a battle with a light mage, it seemed appropriate to the wind-witch that ‘Leira the light bringer’ would be one of her final opponents. The skinny girl clearly had courage, having raced forward to assault a demon several times her own size. Even now she was crouched beside its massive frame, having plunged her slightly tanned palm into the behemoth’s torso. A wisp of wind- doubtless an eddy from one of Salina’s own earlier gusts- played back the girl’s long brown-blond hair, revealing ears that were faintly pointed. I just wish I’d had a chance to pay more attention to your tactics earlier in this bout girl. Whatever you are, you’ve got some power to you.

Beside her, the huge champion of earth was looking at Leira with what appeared to be battle-fuelled fury. His muscular body seemed to almost shake with tension, though it was difficult to be entirely certain with the dust and sand still covering him, like a form of sorcerous armour. Recalling how the brown haired giant had earlier sent scarlet sand swirling around himself, Salina inwardly cursed. One of the last tricks up my sleeve is a pouch of Agrovian itching dust… but if this one has mastery of the sands, that’ll be a treacherous weapon at best. Her eyes narrowed, considering possibilities. Might be amusing if I can get him to form it into part of his armour, but best keep that in reserve for the time being.

Leather boots whispering over the sands, Salina noted that the bloodthirsty crowd had quietened slightly, as if sensing the brutal combat was entering the eye of its perfect storm. As she looked further at the duo, the auburn haired warrior found herself examining the pair’s body language in more detail, her years of experience as a Guard Captain, and a fair dose of woman’s intuition, coming to the fore. Is that adrenaline fuelled fury running through the earth champion’s veins… or hot-tempered desire? She blinked, wondering if she was right… and if so, whether the man’s lust could be turned against him. Could a few choice words plant some seeds of doubt in his brain while she readied her next attack? Possibly.

Suddenly she smiled, remembering a remark her friend Gael Blackfire had once made, after what had proved to be a disastrous date with a green eyed warlock. All men are created equal: equally stupid.



Ryu Viranesh -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/8/2011 22:59:35)

The instant that her hand touched the demon’s chest, she could tell that it was over: she was giving the creature as merciful a death as possible and knew that it was the right thing to do. Her attack passed right through its dark hide, experiencing little resistance as it descended right into the being’s heart, or whatever organ served the monster as such. Her golden sheen exploded outward from the hole she’d just created and from all other openings in the demon’s skin, the light suffusing the fallen competitor’s body. Then just as suddenly as his entrance to the arena, the scion of darkness passed from it, his form dissolving into the light as it overcame the fibers of hate that had held him together.

Leira remained silent throughout the whole process, no tears coming to her eyes nor exultation rushing from her lips. This creature had been chosen to fight and had died for his Lord, and if anything, that commanded respect. I’d want the same thing if that was me, the girl noted as she continued her vigil, the last of the champion of Darkness fading away, the burst of light vanishing with it. She was still for several more moments, just staring at the ground where the impressive creature had once lay, before the sound of a familiar voice and the call of a shrill whistle brought her back to her senses; she could finish paying her respects later, for now there was still business to attend to.

The young woman rose swiftly to her feet, the numbness that had afflicted her right leg having subsided, and turned to find herself face to face with Goshen. The man had sounded like he was angry before, the first time she’d ever heard such a sharp edge enter his voice, but now looked to be quite the opposite. His expression even appeared a bit subdued, like he’d just been told some horrible news and was trying to process it. She wondered what possibly could have happened to cause such a sudden change - was it something to do with her? Her brow wrinkled as she considered the thought; it was certainly possible, since he had been yelling at her, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that had caused such a shocking change. The sound of his voice, full of a strength that greatly contrasted with his embouchure, jarred her from her trance, the girl mentally berating herself for being distracted so easily yet again.

“Leira. It’s time, isn’t it?”

Goshen’s question didn’t come as a surprise to her at all; they both knew that the time to renew their conflict would come eventually. “Eventually” had definitely arrived earlier than she’d expected it would though. A smirk started to slip onto her face as she opened her mouth to respond with an affirmative, but then her expression froze in place. As her eyes wandered past the man and his perfectly crafted face, or at least it was to her, she saw a lone figure approaching them from the other side of the arena. It was the windy warrior, apparently free of her bout with the ice mage; she also appeared to be the only other fighter remaining in the arena, a quick glance around confirming her observation. Leira returned one eye to Goshen, leaving the other trained on the stalking she-warrior so that she couldn’t try anything devious, and then spoke. It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but it was what she needed to say right now.

“It almost is, but we seem to have one last issue to take care of first,” she said and then pointed at the chosen of Wind approaching from behind him, “I know that neither of us would agree with tag-teaming her, but there might be another way, so long as you don’t mind fighting both of us.” Leira fell silent for a brief moment, as though allowing her words to sink in before she continued. “If we’re really meant to be able to finish our fight, then we’ll make it through this so that we can.”



superjars -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/8/2011 23:51:24)

The silent giant watched as the face he admired so dearly broke into a wide grin, lighting up his world as he assumed she would confirm his suspicion. However, then she turned away, leaving him forlorn and feeling abandoned, but only for a few instants. Her next words were painful to hear, that there was still one more combatant left for them to contend with. He was immediately crestfallen, unsure of how he felt about this turn of events. He had been intent on battling with his virtuous vixen, but someone else joining in would make their duo into a menage a trois.

Goshen pried his eyes off of his darling Leira and turned to face the approaching figure, dazzled for an instant by her beauty, but then brought back to reality by a quick glance to his left to take a look at his preferred woman. He stood for a few moments, contemplating what he should do. As the chosen of Light had noted, his honor would not allow him to fight two against one versus this newcomer, but some intuition within also told him that standing back and letting the two females fight it out wasn’t going to work for him either, as much as he’d really like to watch that battle. With only three of them left, he knew that he would have to be involved in this final melee if he were to stand a chance of taking home the favor of his Earthen master.

With a grunt, Goshen turned away from the women, took a few steps to where his rock had coalesced and picked up his prized implement, hefting it onto his shoulder. He walked off back towards his pillar, so that a triangle was created between him, his buxom babe and the vivacious new combatant. When he reached his position, he set the boulder down in front of him and sat upon it. He ran a dusty hand through his sand-laden hair, cracking his neck to the side as he let his body recover from his recent encounter. He grinned at the two women who remained in the arena with him and set out his final challenge of this Championship.

“Well, looks like there’s just three of us left,” he said, adding a slightly sultry undertone to his voice, trying to throw both of them off. “And I don’t know about you, but that crowd out there is looking for a show. Let’s give them something to cheer about, eh? Well, ladies first!”



Mirai -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/9/2011 10:54:03)

So much for him being torn between ambition and lust.

Salina blinked, dismissing her earlier idea. From his remarks, it sounded like the dust covered Earth Giant was more than ready to fight his way to victory, even if that meant carving a bloody path through the young light mage. But at least the pair seemed so bound up in honour that there was little risk of them overwhelming the auburn haired warrior with co-ordinated attacks.
First the skinny light wielder had openly dismissed the idea of them “tag-teaming” the wind-witch, a remark that made Salina smile. If my city guards had dabbled in such niceties, I’d have had their hides. When hunting down a murderer, there are no rules, there’s only getting the job done.

Then the brown haired titan had turned his back on his two female foes, in order to move further away and sit down on his boulder. As he walked away, Salina arched her left eyebrow, briefly toying with the thought of hurling her bone dagger at the staff wielder’s back. Carved from a giant spider’s fang, the weapon was piercingly sharp, though it lacked the poisoned bite of its master. Tempting, but not the example I’d really like to set. Besides, young Leira would probably jump in before I got my throw in, and I half suspect the giant has some trick in play. Instead, she continued her steady pace, gliding quietly forward towards the light mage.

The opportunity was gone a moment later, as the huge warrior sat down on his boulder, cracked his neck to the side, and offered first strike to his two female foes. A smile splitting across his round face, the behemoth appeared entirely at ease with the scenario, remarking that that crowd was: “looking for a show. Let’s give them something to cheer about, eh?”

Covertly slipping one of her remaining steel balls into her left hand, Salina addressed the sand covered warrior with a grin. “In a few moments, I’ll take you up on that offer ser.” Momentarily, she glanced aside, and winked at the pretty young woman. “Age before beauty after all.” She returned her gaze to the massive man, her grey eyes narrowing. “But is that really what you care about Earth Giant? The fleeting cheers of our bloodthirsty audience?”

The ex-coven-mistress halted her long legged strides, and slowly withdrew her bone dagger with her right hand. For a moment she recalled how the townsfolk of Nagraith had once cheered at her passing, as she led the brightly armoured Guards in the annual town parade. Brilliant banners of red and yellow had decked the streets, hailing the peace that she and her warriors had brought to the populace, giving thanks for the low crime rates they had enforced. Those cheers turned sour after the uprising.

Making a pretence of examining her dagger’s length, she discreetly calculated angles for her forthcoming attack. “Honey, the names of men are like generations of leaves- cough- cough.“ Faking an unexpected coughing attack, the crafty wind witch bent over slightly, and slipped her metallic orb into her mouth in the act of putting a hand to her mouth. If I’ve managed to keep that a surprise, it may come in handy later on.

The feigned fit completed, she made no effort to continue her monologue, but instead abruptly hurled the bone-crafted blade at the dusty earth champion’s throat. Well, I told him I’d take him up on his offer. Highly unlikely that he’ll be greatly troubled by so simple an attack, but hopefully it’ll occupy him for a moment while I close in on his sweetheart.

Then the former Guard Captain bore in on the light champion, swiftly unsheathing her two mithril short-swords as her long legs carried her rapidly over the crimson sands. Nearing her foe, Salina raised her left arm high and across her chest, feinting to execute a wild, backhanded slash. But instead an instant later she snapped the hilt down to her left hip, and sent both shining blades jabbing in: the left weapon thrusting low for the young woman’s belly, the right aimed high, seeking to skewer her pretty face.

Right girl, let’s see what you’ve got.



Ryu Viranesh -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/11/2011 21:02:40)

Goshen appeared to take her words hard, the lines on his face conveying the disappointment his words never would; the disappointment that the coming conflict would not be what the two of them truly desired it to be. Her man turned away for a second, to catch a glimpse of the woman who had become a third wheel to their perfect pairing, before returning his eyes to their original target. Leira wasn’t the jealous type, and what a good thing for the chosen of Earth this was; she’d known of girls who would never forgive their significant others for simply a glance at another, even on the battlefield! However, the light wielder had nothing to worry about from this woman and she knew it; the harlot looked old enough to be someone’s mother. Goshen was silent for a few moments before finally letting out an unappealing grunt, turning on his heel and striding away towards his pillar, halting only to retrieve his newly reformed boulder. As soon as he had travelled enough distance to suit his purposes, he set the large stone down once more and took a seat, a smile mysteriously finding its way onto his face.

The man then bellowed out a call for a good, crowd-pleasing fight and gave the first move to his female opponents, a fact that she couldn’t help but smile at; she’d make sure that he would regret that later. From the corner of Leira’s eye, she saw the wind-bound woman stalking closer, the aging lioness readying herself to pounce. Narrowing her gaze, the girl carefully began to shift her left leg backwards, at the same time twisting her body towards the menacing hag. She kept one eye trained on the chosen of Wind, watching as the older woman responded to Goshen's challenge with a slight of her own. She knew that she did not have time to waste bandying about with this strumpet while her man looked on. However much she might play around with the people she loved, there was no way that she’d give that same satisfaction to this overblown windbag. The girl’s thoughts of irritation were suddenly interrupted by an unexpected coughing fit from the warrior of wind, one that she greeted with open suspicion; it was doubtful that someone so infirm could have survived a fight with the mage of ice.

Leira’s inhibitions proved to be well justified when the moment after the coughing ceased, the woman let fly a dagger aimed directly for Goshen’s throat. However, she was left with little time to worry for her friend as his attacker quickly became hers, setting off towards her at a breakneck pace, the older lady’s blades sliding out of their sheaths with a distinct rasp. The light lass stood her ground and waited for her foe to close in, watching as the hag’s long legs ate up the distance like a prized stallion. She took a deep breath as she reminded herself to hold still until her enemy was closer, to wait for an opportunity to reveal itself. Not yet, not yet, her mind whispered as the she-beast drew within striking range, Wait until you see the whites of her eyes - NOW!

At that moment, the witch pulled her left arm upwards so that she could execute a backhand slash and Leira finally saw her chance. Her right hand appeared to vanish, wrist and all, as the girl leaped backwards; a necessary precaution in case her maneuver didn’t work as planned. The body part reappeared just behind the woman’s right shoulder and darted forward to make a grab for her exposed wrist. If the fingers latched on, the hand would reverse its momentum into a sharp pull backwards, trying to force the chosen of Wind to lose her balance. If Leira was lucky, the harlot would fall flat on her butt and be wide open for her next attack. If she wasn’t, then she’d have more than talking to her boyfriend to worry about.



superjars -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/11/2011 21:40:04)

The gargantuan man’s smile turned to a frown as this seductress responded to his words, throwing them back in his face as if they were a cheap trick, which he had to admit, they kind of were. He had never been that good at enticing the opposite gender anyway, but he thought just the attempt would buy him some form of reaction. A cruel, heartless reaction was not what he was going for, however. And to call him a giant in the process? Unforgivable!

“Hey, who do you think you are call-” he began, only to be cut off by what appeared to him like an odd coughing fit. He doubted someone who had made it this far in the competition would be ill, nor did he notice any dust gathered about her face, making the whole thing seem suspicious to him. He raised an eyebrow towards her for the moments it took her to finish hacking, wary of some form of trickery in play. He couldn’t be sure what form it would take, but he hadn’t gotten this far in life by not being cautious. At the same time, he kept one eye trained upon Leira, knowing as well as she that all feelings about each other needed to be buried beneath the sands until the championship ended. She was his opponent. Nothing more.

A flicker of movement brought his attention back to the elder woman as she sent the blade she had taken out a few moments previous towards his person while taking off towards his gorgeous girl. No time for distraction now, his mind reminded his body as he moved into action. Two earthen discs, each with a radius of a foot and a half, peeled off of the boulder beneath him and flowed up to rest against his forearms. At the same time, the stone below him started to spin clockwise in the sand rapidly, hefting his large mass along with it.

He performed two actions almost simultaneously: first, he caught the woman’s blade on the shield held on his left arm as he passed it by, and second, he flung the large stone frisbee on his right arm towards where the twin females should end up. The discus sailed in a curving line from him towards their position, hooking downwards until it buzzed over the sand about three feet off the crimson dunes and making a wide arc. By his calculations of its trajectory, it would find the younger woman’s behind and be in line to rearrange the elder’s face. If the ladies stayed in the same place very long, they would soon find themselves crushed by the whirling dervish of rock.

After completing its full rotation, the rock stopped and his staff, which had sunken into its storage space inside the boulder, grew out of the craggy surface until about eighty percent of it was visible. With a grunt and a grin, the gigantic man took hold of the stave, hefting it, and the entire boulder, onto his shoulder. Full of renewed energy for this final battle, he started jogging in a path directly towards his prey, calling out to the powerful pair as he picked up speed:

“Now, ladies, no fair fighting over me. There’s plenty to go around!”



Mirai -> RE: =EC 2011= Finals Arena (8/12/2011 19:00:02)

Sprinting forward, a cunning cheetah dashing toward its pretty antelope prey, Salina faintly heard her bone dagger clatter off an obstacle as the brown haired earth champion blocked the piercing projectile with an earthen disc. Her thrown blade had interrupted his rebuke to her remarks, but a corner of her brain noted that something she had said had evidently offended the massive man. And I wasn’t even trying that time. Primarily though, the wily vixen was focussed on the young woman before her, and her plan to skewer the green eyed girl on her jabbing blades.

Unfortunately, Salina had no time to execute her stabbing thrusts, with events taking an unexpected turn. As she feinted to execute a backhanded slash, she felt something grab hold of her left hand, fingers of some kind latching onto her wrist. Caught off guard by the unexpected force wrenching at her hand, the wind witch’s long lashed orbs widened with surprise. Shades and brimstone- is that the titan? How in the seven hells did he move so fast? Lacking time to fathom who had seized her, the grey eyed fighter focussed instead on the immediate realisation that she could not maintain her charging equilibrium.

Instead, the fulcrum of Salina’s arm resulted in her young opponent’s unexpected attack pulling her back and slightly to the right, throwing her off balance. With limited grip upon the shifting sands, the auburn haired fighter’s let her leather boots slide diagonally-right, gliding out from under her. A moment later her body inevitably began to crash down toward the dusty arena’s floor. Conveniently, this sudden fall would put her outside the initial arc of Goshen’s giant discus, but the wind witch was unaware of this godsend, not spotting the massive missile as it soared with roaring force through the air toward Leira.

As she began to slip, Salina’s battle-honed reflexes sprang into play. A veteran of breaking up a hundred bar fights, she instinctively dropped her right sword, letting the beautiful blade tumble down to the circular chamber’s scarlet surface. Her right hand now unencumbered, she tried to latch hold of the force that had seized her, her long, strong, nails seeking to drive deep gouges into her unknown attacker’s exposed flesh. An instant later, she snapped both her wrists down to her left hip, attempting to drag her attacker’s hand down and across her own body with the sudden motion. Combined with Salina’s fall, the maneuverer would have been perfectly executed to throw an attacker over her prostrate form. Indeed, had it been the earth giant who had seized her, his bulk would probably have been sent soaring through the air above Salina’s body, to careen into the light mage. Unluckily for the former coven mistress, it was not Goshen who had grabbed her, but rather the disembodied hand of the skinny young champion of the light. As such, no huge body would be sent sprawling over her right shoulder as she fell to the earth, but only Leira’s own seized fist.

A moment later, scarlet sands puffed up around the fallen fighter, sent swiftly flying by the impact of the wind mage’s body upon the ruby red grains. More by luck than judgement, Salina avoided swallowing the metal ball bearing, held tightly between her pink tongue and the hard palate of her mouth. Pain flared softly along the left side of the cream cloaked fighter, bruised nerve endings dimly signalling their hurt with almost resignation that further agonies were inevitable. Great, I’m on the floor, positioned between two fighters trying to kill me, and one of them seems capable I’ve splitting herself in two. Well that’s just fabulous.

Worse was to follow, as she heard the huge earth warrior charging up behind her, his footsteps booming quickly over the sands. The brown eyed champion rich voice rang out, mocking Salina’s duel with her younger foe: “Now, ladies, no fair fighting over me. There’s plenty to go around!” Despite her desperate situation, a ghost of a smile danced behind the wily woman’s grey eyes, enjoying the large man’s wit. Even so, I better deal with Little Miss Tricksy first, and hope I still have a moment or two before the Earth Giant arrives on the scene. Had she seen the huge hammer hefted upon Goshen’s shoulder, Salina might have re-evaluated her risk assessment, but the grey eyed warrior’s eyes were momentarily focussed upon the light mage.

Painfully aware of her vulnerable position upon the ground, Salina instinctively expelled her craftily concealed metallic orb, spitting the pellet at the chest of the brown-blonde haired light-wielder. An instant later, the wind-witch’s magic acted as a catalyst upon her expelled breath, transforming the weakly blown air into a surging gale that ripped up the tumbling scarlet sands in its wake and caught the spat steel ball like flotsam in a surging wave’s path. Straight as an archer’s bolt, the gust raced with cataclysmic force toward Leira, the pellet becoming an abrupt arrowhead to the following sandstorm’s surging shaft, and the raging winds’ fluttering fletching.

Hopefully that’ll blow you out of my hair girl. Now I just have to hope I can get back to my feet before the earth giant splats me…



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