RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals

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Starflame13 -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/20/2015 21:49:57)
Nearer and nearer Blossom raced towards the target, but still the blue-clad man had yet to respond. Elysia frowned, her arm steady, as she allowed the edges of the lightning shield to disperse slightly and increase her visibility. The tip of the glaive was barely yards from John’s chest when the figure finally reacted, diving towards his pillar. He left his bucket where he had been standing, and as he dove it belched out an immense stream of soapy water. It flowed continuously from the mouth of the bucket, forming a small river that propelled John quickly out of range of both glaive and shield. As fast as the Champion of Water had dodged, Elysia needed to reacted even more quickly. She had mere hoofbeats before Blossom came into contact with that sudsy torrent, and the sand was slick enough without the added challenge of the dark crimson sludge quickly forming beneath the frothing waves. Flicking her her wrist, she dispersed the energy shield as she once more slid her feet from the stirrups. Giving her mount a solid kick in the barrel, she threw herself from the saddle just as Blossom sprang into a full leap. Without her constantly moving weight on his back, the horse had a much better chance of landing his jump. Elysia landed with a squelch in the middle of the water, the butt of her glaive and her left knee plunged several inches into sandy slop as the stream soaked her from the waist down. Remnants of the energy shield crackled along the steel blade, more in response to her anger and annoyance than from any conscious summons. Glancing skywards, Elysia grinned at the hint and surged upwards with a shout, pulling herself free from the mud as a bolt of lightning crashed down from the cloudless heavens above in response. It splintered as it came into contact with the weapon, not a full web of lighting, but powerful enough to send a handful of offshoots chasing after her fleeing opponent. One smacked into the water she was submerged in, sending a tingle of energy up her own legs and along her spine. Two more chased after John, with one zipping in a straight, neat line in the direction where he had been when the bolt first connected, and the other curving hungrily for the metal of his staff. The fourth and final split slammed into the pillar of Water itself, which let of a slight hiss as the bolt caused ripples to form across the surface, and nothing more. Pure, elemental Water could no more be harmed by her weakened forms of energy than a raindrop could subdue an inferno. Hopefully the contest between herself and John would be a bit more evenly matched. Glancing around, Elysia noticed that Blossom had trotted over to stand at the edge of the rushing water, a look of confusion in his eyes as he tried to figure out why his mistress had decided now was a good time for a bath. Deep gouges in the sand where his hooves had hit revealed how hard the horse had struggled to remain upright in the landing. If she had remained mounted, they would have both tumbled into the waiting sands. As she moved to remount, she noticed that the bucket, barely a few feet from where she had landed, was still streaming out more and more soapy water. She reached out a hand and picked it up gingerly, tilting it away from her to avoid getting her torso and arms drenched as well. Could she smash it and remove John’s source of strength..? No, the bucket, like the mop handle, was made of metal. Elysia sighed, and held the bucket as far away from her as possible as she slugged her way through the wet sand and remounted Blossom using only the stirrups. There had to be some way to get this… thing, this problem, out of the arena. The stands were too high for her to attempt to lob it up there, and there was nothing in the arena itself but the competitors and the pillars… The pillar of Darkness. Or, more accurately, the yawning maw of Darkness. Without taking the time to consider the incredulity of her action, Elysia slung the bucket, still spitting forth its froth of foam, up over Blossom’s shoulders and sent it spinning through the air towards the shadowy pit. Foam and droplets of water sprinkled the sands as the bucked tumbled over itself, sending glints of refracting light across the arena and scattering tiny rainbows across the expanse of scarlet sands, reminiscent of the brilliant colors of Shud’s gemstones. Her timing of such a reminder could have been better placed, for even as Elysia backed Blossom with a step closer to the middle of the arena, away from both pillars and from John, she heard the callers voices once more ring out. Sands shifted and trembled as the gate of the Paragon of Earth banged open, a clear mark of dismissal for the mountain man. She did not have the luxury of time to watch her former ally exit the arena, but she mentally wished him well all the same. Perhaps if she survived the remaining three competitors, she would seek him out afterwards to ensure that he remained in one piece after his bout with the Lady of Light.

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/21/2015 1:01:29)
Fear flashed in the giant’s eyes as the Light Incarnation took form. It confirmed what Lucia thought to be true: Earth’s Chosen would not be able to avoid the spear. The paladin tightened the Beatification in the crook of her arm as Shud moved to sweep the tip aside. As his hand brushed against the spear, Lucia twisted her sword wrist, putting power and momentum behind the blade. Her sword came crashing down as the spear plunged into his chest. His strength was far greater than hers, but he had acted too late. The spearhead met met little resistance as it passed between ribs and ran through him. Shud unleashed a roar of agony just before the arming sword sliced open his shoulder. Between the two blows the giant stumbled, and his path wavered to Lucia’s left. The paladin made an attempt to swing the left half of her body back to avoid entangling herself in the Paragon of Earth’s grasp. This proved too much for her, and she winced as sharp pain flared in her injured ankle. Her left foot fell to the sand too soon, and the giant hurtled into her. Both Light Incarnations flew out of her grasp, and Lucia caught a glimpse of the arming sword skimming through the bloodied sands as she spun in a half-circle. The paladin fell flat on the ground, and the air was knocked from her lungs. Her hand clenched into a fist, crimson grains pouring from between fingers. She pushed herself up and coughed as she fought to regain her breath. There was new pain in the form of her jarred shoulder, but she ignored it. Searching eyes swept over the arena for her enemy. They found him not preparing for battle but struggling for life. The giant lay on the ground with his breathing haggard and blood pulsing from his chest. Lucia came up next to him as eyes glistening with unspent tears shut to embrace death. For what were his tears? Were they shed at his own plight that his adventure had come to an end? Was it just another expression of the suffering inflicted upon him? Or were they for the loss of his wish, his unrealized dream? Many came to the city of Bren, but only the select few with fires burning in their hearts and yearning in their souls entered the arena. Those that risked all they possessed did so in pursuit of the wish – the wish for anything or everything. Was it greed, or was it something else? Perhaps it was not for his own sake that he wept, but for that of another. Or was it not one but many who had placed their hope in this warrior? There was no way for her to know. No weapon formed in her hands as she knelt down beside the Paragon of Earth. Lucia placed a palm over the bleeding hole in his chest. The wound was far beyond her own ability, but she could preserve him until the mages of the arena healed him proper. Bright light radiated forth from the contact between the combatants of light and earth as another link vanished from her chain. In most instances, Lucia allowed the whole of the wound to mend together. The healing process would skip forward and altogether there would be less time spent in recovery. However, a ruptured lung was an extenuating circumstance. Instead of healing the skin and muscle underneath, she focused all of the energy on the lining of the lung. Blood would have already entered it, but a man of Shud’s stature should be able to endure it until he was received by a true healer. Rich brown eyes flicked open and fell onto the paladin with surprise. Lucia wanted to ask what he fought for, who he fought for, and what drove him to such ends. Instead, with her breathing heavy from her efforts - both for and against the giant - she muttered one word. “Yield.” Shud flashed her a grin. “Was gettin’ sick o’ this anyway. Y’fought well, Light. G’luck.” He gave her a gentle tap on the brace before standing up and making his way out of the arena. Lucia was surprised not so much by his positive temperament but with the ease he stood up and walked away. Every step should have brought great pain to the giant, but his gait betrayed no weakness. If she had not done it herself, the paladin would not have believed Shud had just been impaled. No further thoughts could be spent on the Paragon of Earth as Fire’s Chosen approached. Micha… Lucia had avoided this fight for as long as she could, but this side of the arena was now bereft of other challengers. A lump formed in her throat as the feline warrior twirled a metal sphere attached to a long chain. A chill filled her veins before they were replaced by a burning desire. Lucia clenched her fists as she fought the urge to hurl herself at the jungle cat. The paladin planted her feet and raised her hands by her head in a defensive manner. Micha’s fighting style was still unknown Lucia, and she did not want to let the fire combatant know what she was coming up against. It would be Micha who would reveal her hand first.

Kellehendros -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/21/2015 21:35:53)
Shud descended like an avalanche, a mountain of muscle and glittering stone whose momentum could not be denied. Of course, that was the inherent risk of momentum. In certain circumstances the force of a charge was just as dangerous to the attacker as the defender. Earth’s Chosen was finding that out now, as Lucia turned his mass-enhanced rush against him with the spear of light. The Paragon of Earth saw the danger and attempted to beat the weapon aside, but enjoyed only partial success. Micha slowed, wincing in sympathy as Lucia’s lance slammed into, and then through, Shud. The weapon burst out of the behemoth’s back in a spray of blood, a tribute showered on the red grains below. Light’s Chosen followed up near simultaneously with a vicious cut to the injured shoulder of her opponent with the blade in her other hand. Shud went down hard, more blood flowing out to dye the sands of the Arena floor. He stayed down, moving weakly, though his momentum had at least been sufficient to knock Lucia to the crimson sands as well. The Kissa stopped, though the meteor hammer continued to whirl, looping left to right, then right to left, through figure-eights of softly whirring metal. She might have continued forward, but she could see the end coming for the Paragon of Earth. Her hesitation was not due to what was approaching. Micha had seen death before. She had dealt it, held it in her arms as Kedron breathed his last. The Kissa’s pause was to see what Lucia would do, to learn something of her, to see what kind of woman she was. For all his vaunted strength, the big man was at the mercy of his foe. Lucia, whether she knew it or not, was about to reveal who she really was inside. The power of death and life rested in the hands of Light’s Chosen. A wound such as Shud had suffered would be fatal in minutes, filling the lung with blood. That had been Kedron’s fate, and only the Paragon of Light was in any position to prevent such a terrible demise. She gave him mercy as her spear of light vanished, laying a hand upon Shud’s chest and healing the wound, at least partially. Micha exhaled softly, watching the two exchange brief words. Life. The harder choice, perhaps. Though whether it was easier or harder was a philosophical question not suited for this time and place. Still, the Kissa could respect what the Paragon of Light had done. Mercy and compassion were noble traits. Still, it would be foolish to underestimate the threat the woman represented because of one small act of kindness. The Enkeli’s right ear flicked, swiveling towards Elysia and John, listening. Before her the meteor hammer hummed softly through the air, left to right, right to left. The Chosen of Energy and Water were well engaged. There seemed little need to worry about interference from that angle. She let a few links slide through her fingers as the orb floated across her body, left to right, right to left. The Kissa started to move forward, edging her way into the chain’s effective range. Lucia was unarmed, hands raised defensively. That meant very little. Micha had seen Light’s Chosen draw a weapon from out of the air, though perhaps it was more accurate to say it was drawn from the light within the air itself. Like Elysia across the Arena, it was best to always consider Lucia as being armed. Magic. No wonder the fighters around here complain about it. Still, even magic took time. Micha’s opponent was conceding the initiative of the battle to her, letting her set the pace and dictate the terms. This was not uncommon. When faced with an unfamiliar weapon many fighters would adopt a defensive attitude. Lucia was hoping to see something of how the chain worked, how it moved and struck, in order that she might be able to formulate an appropriate response. Micha’s tail tip flickered slightly, and the Enkeli inclined her head ever so slightly to her foe. She spoke, letting Lucia know, if obliquely, that this was an action of necessity rather than malice. “We each do here what we must. I wish you no ill, healer.” They were, at the end of it, here to do battle. She might wish the woman no ill, but that did not mean the Enkeli was not prepared to inflict it upon her anyways. The meteor hammer whistled left to right, and then Micha began to advance faster, putting more force into each turn of her wrist as her right arm came up. Before her, the weapon began scything through the air as it rose in a steady circle right to left over the Enkeli’s head. Gentle adjustments as the links of chain played out made the meteor hammer dip and weave in the air distractingly. The Kissa’s intention was not so much to strike Lucia as to test her. The metal orb whipped through fast, swift orbits that would menace the Paragon of Light’s left side. Micha wanted to force her opponent to the right, moving her in the direction of her injured leg and placing weight and strain on it. If Light’s Chosen faltered, the Enkeli could take advantage of the lapse in defense, and if Lucia chose to stand rather than move… Well, taking the meteor hammer to the ribs would be just as detrimental to the health of her ribs as it had been to the health of her shattered ankle.

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/22/2015 18:25:07)
A hum permeated through the air as the ball and chain swung in hypnotizing loops, a soft prelude to what was to come. In the fragile peace before the storm, Lucia studied her opponent. Micha’s armor was leather and light, trading protection for mobility and speed. What parts of her that went uncovered were coated in hairs of coal and raw umber. Her hands appeared human in nature, but her feet were that of a ferocious jungle cat. Claws protruded from her toes, leaving the Paragon never weaponless. Large eyes of amber gazed from over her snout with pupils slit like a creature of the night. A tail bobbed behind her, readying to pounce. Thus far Fire’s Chosen had been untouched and unmarred. Micha was a hunter, and she was after all of their skins. Lucia’s heartbeat was erratic in one part due to the impending battle and in three parts to the welling insider her. It pressed against her insides, threatening to burst from its cage and run free. The paladin had thought that if she kept a methodical and calm mind she could end her fight with Micha without incident. A bead of sweat from anticipation rolled down the side of her face. Her mouth went dry. A haze filled her mind as if a fever had begun to set in. Now Lucia only hoped to not lose it before the duel began. A strange sound filled her ears, and it took a moment for Lucia to realize Micha was speaking. “…what we must. I wish you no ill, healer.” The paladin’s tongue hung heavy in her mouth. She wanted to respond, but this fever dream had a firm hold on her. Lucia sucked in a shaky breath. The humming prelude transitioned into a symphony as Micha struck. The metal sphere sailed in from the left. Lucia ducked her head and raised an arm, dispelling three links out of muscle memory rather than training. A heater shield of dazzling gold and brightest white formed upon her arm. As her magic swirled into being, Lucia felt rather than saw the decorations and details upon her Light Incarnation. The words of the of the Warrior Prayer lay etched on the lining of the shield, circling the image in the center. The centerpiece was not the owl in-flight of St. Augustine’s Order, but a twisted depiction of a face with too many mouths filled with fangs. The head was reared back and each mouth opened as if in a primal scream of torment. She had not meant to beset her Canonization with such a frightening image, but she could not deny the truth in it. Metal clanged against the angled Light Incarnation, commencing the symphony of their vicious contest. The sphere careened off the shield and over her head, losing little momentum. It continued on its concentric path and came crashing back around again. A second deflection with the shield faired no more than the first; the blow had been blocked, but they would keep raining down on her in a rising crescendo until something gave away. The third note of the battling melody struck higher than the previous two, its cry softer yet higher in comparison as it skipped over the upmost portion of the shield. Lucia hurried to circle right and shift the tune to her favor. The fourth blow came reeling in, and Lucia raised her shield… …only for it to clip the bottom edge and collide with her side. Wordless pain filled her as her feet slipped from underneath, and she fell. Her hands flew out to catch her, and time slowed to a crawl. The brilliancy of her golden links faded to the false shine of fool’s gold. She had one final thought before waves of primal emotion washed over her mind. It had been uncaged. The Canonization shattered into a shower of twinkling motes of light. Her brace gave away in the same manner, spraying forth fragments across the sands of the arena. Her body convulsed in the air as muscles writhed and ached. Her torso lengthened and enlarged, her tunic stretched to its limit to cover the new shape of her body. Hairs the color of straw sprouted all across her skin to coat her in a thick fur. Nails hardened and formed points as they grew into wicked claws. The hands that caught her were longer and stronger than her human ones. Her back arched as a long tail grew from the end of her spine. Lucia cried out in horror – the horror she would unleash. Short-lived it was as bones crunched and cracked, elongating her nose and mouth into a snout. The scream turned into a howl as the voices of human and wolf overlay one another. It died as she clamped her teeth shut and snapped her eyes forward. Gone was Lucia the paladin – crouched now was Lucia the werewolf. Before her was the cat with a false tail of iron, encroaching like a rival predator on her lands. Lucia snarled. She would be the first. The werewolf sprung forward with her claws extended and eager to rip and slash. The cat had fancied herself a predator. She had forgotten she was prey.

Ultrapowerpie -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/22/2015 22:39:22)
"oh no, she did NOT just do that" Joe stated, observing the combat. "Oh yes she did... REALLY stupid since she's taking her attention away from him...." Janet replied. "If anything happens to that bucket, John will see to it that horse drowns" "Aye, you don't mess with a Janitor's trusty bucket. Especially one that's seen so much and can techno-magically abosrb water moisture from the air." "Indeed, why the bucket alone has such a rich and colorful backstory that..." "No, no more backstory, let's just get onto to the fight!" Janet interrupted. "... fine..." John had at this point, gotten himself up from the ground as his opponent dismounted and attempted to come up with some sort of retaliatory scheme. And when he saw what her scheme was, he was infuriated. The rage that a filthy adventurer (a filthy horse rider, and as we all know, horse riders on Lore RARELY picked up after their beasts) would attempt to dispose of a sacred cleaning bucket. How dare this knave even think she could touch it, let alone try to dispose of it? She would pay for her arrogance, taking her eyes off the janitor, with the one thing that the rider valued the most: her horse! John grabbed another one of his sponge bolas (he had only three, the typical amount of bolas one brings into an arena) with his right hand, leaving his mop in the ground for the moment, as this move would require both hands. He streamed a new water stream, but this time from teh Water Pillar itself. He wasn't really happy about using it, but it was one of the arrangements made when he had negotiated with the Water Lord for the contract of representing him as a Paragon. (Janitors take things very seriously and always keep a contract, so they are quite skilled in contract law). Hurling the Water Bolas at the horse's legs, John used both hands to split the water stream in two, half of it was going ahead of the bolas to drench the horse and rider (or at least keep them occupied), while the other one would intercept the bucket. In truth, doing this was a rather complicated feat, and John was more concerned with the bucket then he was with the rider (this time), so his attention was centered there as half the stream raced ahead of the bucket and stopped it's arc dead in it's tracks. In fact the stream had enough velocity to turn the bucket the other way, and torrented it near John. Unfortunately John was nto 100% paying attention to the results of what was going on with the rider and the other stream, but he hoped the MOP would act as a lightning rod.

Starflame13 -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/23/2015 1:03:07)
The expanse of sands between Elysia and John was beginning to resemble the floor of the Twilight arena. Stripes of deep crimson, turned dark by the constant gush of soapy water, interlaced with the background of dry, sparkling scarlet. Water droplets streamed down Elysia’s legs and boots, leaving a trail behind her as she backed Blossom back towards the center of the arena and away from the sludge of her opponent’s fast-drying spell. Tiny suds gathered at the edges of her stirrups, bubbles scattering through the air with each movement and leaving tiny, glistening circles when they collided with her mounts nearly-dry black coat. She smiled as she turned to find where John’s dive had left him; her brief encounter with the sun-warmed water had eased her aching muscles. Even now, the sun bore down upon her, sending rays of unrelenting heat and causing faint wisps of steam to rise from her darker clothes as they swiftly dried. Fighting the urge to turn to see what had become of the remaining fighters, Elysia finally located John, standing in a torrent of water drawn forth from his frothing pillar. Her eyes widened in surprise: she had nearly killed herself in accidentally taking power from the Energy pillar, and here he was willingly drawing forth a tempest of Water in its pure, elemental form. With a gesture, John caused the wave erupt about him, arching away from its source like a giant hand before forking into two rivers. The first, and larger, of the streams raced to intercept the gentle curving arc of the still-spewing metal bucket. As the two streams connected, the bucket twirled and reoriented itself, spitting a few last drops of water at the maw of Darkness before propelling itself back towards its master. As if in an afterthought, the second spout of water shot after herself and Blossom. Elysia turned to watch the looming threat, and in doing so spotted another familiar sight from Twilight. John had thrown some projectile at her while she was preoccupied with her horse, similar to the stone and rope device that Micha had besieged her with during the previous trial. Sunlight refracted off of spiraling water droplets as the thing twirled through the air towards horse and rider. This contraption had some sort of cloth on the end, rather than heavy rocks. With a grin, Elysia spun her glaive to the side. The Paragon of Water may possess more magic, but his thrown weapon had nothing on his opposite in Fire. Micha’s throws were accurate and deadly, this object now flying at her was barely aerodynamic compared to those. Holding her breath to be sure of her timing, Elysia signaled Blossom to turn in a tight circle. With a neat, practiced motion, she whipped her glaive about her head, bringing the curved and deadly sharp edge in a sweeping motion between the war horse and the incoming weapon. Her blade, with first a singing whistle, followed by a loud snap, sliced smoothly through the main rope of the projectile. She fumbled slightly, grabbing the weapon with both hands, as some of the strange weights twirled around her glaive, colliding with a loud smack and sending a spray of water along the wooden shaft. One of the attachments sailed past the weapon, and instead slapped into Blossom’s shoulder, leaving its outline imprinted in white foamy soap before falling to the sands below. The horse immediately stepped on it with a squelch, tramping it into the desert as he completed his turn. A loud splash echoed as the wall of water collided with the ground behind them, erasing the presence of Blossom's former hoof prints and sending tiny wavelets across his hooves as he trotted smartly into the center of the arena. Elysia gaped in surprise as the trio of Earth, Light, and Fire came into view. Shud, like the other dismissed Champions, had opted for survival. She could just see him walking, slow and steady as his element, through the gate and away from the perils and treachery of the arena. Micha, too, moved like her own element, as graceful and deadly as a wildfire as she twirled the globe of metal along its chain about her and towards Lucia. And Lucia… no hint of the Light, either of golden magic or polished weapons, remained with the paladin. Instead, a snarling beast, fanged and dripping drool, stood facing Micha, its claws tearing at the sand beneath it. A werewolf. With ragged, straw colored fur as thick as the feline’s smooth tawny pelt, it let loose a bone chilling howl before lunging at its intended victim. Shuddering slightly, Elysia turned back to John. Hopefully Micha could inflict some sort of damage on the creature before it decided to switch targets. Positioning Blossom so she could turn quickly and react to either fight, Elysia returned her focus to John. The bucket had almost completed its journey; she could almost imagine the Paragon of Water reaching out his hands through the wave of water surrounding him to clasp his tool to his bosom like he might a lost child. She transferred her glaive to her left, less dominant hand, giving it a shake to toss the remains of rope and cloth to the sands below. With a deep breath in an attempt to chase away her pounding headache, lightning once more danced between her fingers, crackling merrily before turning into the now-familiar sight of a long spear. For one breath, it gleamed in her hand, trembling in eagerness. Then it was gone, sailing through the air and aimed, not for John himself, but for his bucket. A strike there would connect with any remaining water in its bottomless pit, and possibly even transfer to the man himself if he caught the bucket in time.

Kellehendros -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/23/2015 1:30:07)
Much as Micha predicted, Lucia did not have a hard time blocking the strike. Light’s Chosen conjured a rather hideously illuminated shield, ducking and deflecting the meteor hammer off the barrier. The Kissa shuffled back half a step, pulling on the chain to reestablish the tension in the links as her wrist flicked the metal orb back up to speed. A precise adjustment of her fingers angled the second blow slightly lower, though it too was knocked up and away. Her fingers were feather-light on the chain, links slipping out and sending the third strike in higher. The meteor hammer whickered across the surface of Lucia’s shield with a resonant criiiing as that strike was defeated as well. Micha had heard swordmasters speak of becoming one with their weapon, until hand and eye and blade moved as a single entity through space. Micha supposed they would know, though she had never favored swords overmuch herself. The chain was her weapon, and though each blow she sent flickering out at the Paragon of Light was defeated, she was not overly concerned. She had never favored blades, but in her hands the chain danced and wavered, and Micha understood what the swordmasters spoke of. Links of metal moved as an extension of her own flesh, humming through the air in arcs and lines precise as thought itself. The Enkeli was intimately aware of the chain in her hands: the dart clenched in her left fist, the smooth curve of the links, the meteor hammer straining at the limits of its reach as though taking flight. Her eye had no need to inform her hand that Lucia’s shield was too high; that extremity had already adjusted her aim to take advantage of the lapse. Her mind had no need to consider the placement of her next strike. This would be the one, the blow that would find its way through Lucia’s defenses. It was written in the sure, swift passage of the metal orb over the sands. This was a dance, a poem in motion whose ending was already composed... Kraaang. Thud. The meteor hammer scraped the edge of the Paragon of Light’s shield. Bypassing that barrier with sufficient momentum, the orb continued on to a solid impact with Lucia’s side. Micha had no way of feeling the blow through the fluid links of her chain, and she had not heard the telltale sound of bone breaking, but the hit was a good one, solid. Light’s Chosen reeled, at least one rib cracked; Lucia twisted in the air, a reflexive maneuver to shield her now injured side. And then she came undone. Light’s Chosen, stoic in the face of pain only moments ago, screamed. Her shield and leg brace burst into hissing fragments of radiance as her body began to writhe, even as it continued to fall. That was not a cry of pain, torn from the woman’s throat as Lucia convulsed in the air. Micha knew the many emanations of vocalized pain; after her time in Polemaetus’ dungeons she was a connoisseur of agonized cries. This sound was not pain. It was fear. Micha stepped back, jerking urgently on the chain, whip-cracking the orb back in her direction. The Kissa’s hands shuttled swiftly, choking back the links to shorten the weapon’s reach and allow its momentum to pick up again. She faltered a moment, golden eyes going wide as Lucia began to change. Bones grated and collapsed as the form of the Paragon of Light shifted. Lines of greasy black magic bound themselves tightly about Light’s Chosen; her cry changed. Horror and fear were subsumed by corruption, supplanted by rage, overruled by hunger. What rose was not Lucia, not the Paragon of Light. It was larger, stretching the woman’s clothing in a way that might have been comical if it did not emphasize the long reach of the lethal talons tipping once delicate digits. There was something, very faintly, suggestively Koira about the creature. The canine cast of features was familiar, but the proportions were off. The arms were too long, the muscle too thick. As well, there was nothing recognizably intelligent in that gaze, though Danae knew Micha had met some foolish Koira in her time. Whatever this accursed abomination was, it had more in common with the creatures known hereabouts as wolves. Questions of what precisely the thing was, and what sort of curse Lucia was afflicted with, were secondary to the fact that the abomination was not pleased to see Micha. The Kissa had faltered a moment at the sight of the… thing… that Light’s Chosen had become, but it was only a moment. Barreling towards her, the beast snarled, fangs flashing. In Micha’s hand the meteor hammer whirled as she gave ground. The monster was fast, but so was the Enkeli. For a moment, her mind flashed back to the Markis, and Micha bared her own fangs in growling reply. Gathering itself, the beast leapt, and so did the Kissa. Bounding left and twisting as the monster sailed past, Micha snapped her wrist. The meteor hammer flickered out in a straight shot aimed at the creature’s jaws. Breaking some of its fangs might give it second thoughts about the engagement to come, or perhaps only serve to enrage the fiend further.

Ultrapowerpie -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/24/2015 15:44:45)
"Damn them" Joe cursed, spitting on the ground in disgust. "I know a certain elemental lord who just lost more then a few fellows..." Janet sighed "Forget one, I'm fairly certain after this, the JJJJ may have a new policy in general... one a tad more unilateral" Joe muttered. "Stow that talk, for all we know there wasn't a breach of contract. I mean, it IS negotiations with a diety. They have the absolutely worst set of contracural bylines thrown into their things..." "That's what the policy is: no more deals with devils..." "Oh hush that, we still have to deal with these beings for various things... though we may have a more ironclad contract..." "You do know that this competitoin is entirely voluntary and that the rules have been around for a while, right?" Jill interjected, a third Janitor who had remained silent all this time until now. "Yes, but it's still rather silly and arbitrary from our point of view. And all previous grievances are still justified. They're still aloof jerks," Joe nodded. "Look, let's just be happy he made it into the Final Four of the tournament. Yes it's horrid that we couldn't establish the Anti-Litter Ordinance, but at least we didn't loose anyone..." Jill added "We were DANGEROUSLY close to loosing a bucket," Joe countered. "Yes well fortunately John managed to retrieve the bucket before anything happened," Janet interjected. "Say where IS he?" Joe asked. John had been cleansed of the mud and dirt that had covered him. Indeed, the bucket was also quite fine too. He was standing outside of the arena, reflecting on the final moments of the match. The moment the arena roared that the Lord of Water had withdrawn support for his choosen, John sighed. He had figured that it was only a matter of time before the diety he had wrangled a contract with would bail on him. Typical nonsense from these creatures, however the fight was over. John saw the horse rider make another lightning spell ready, and he dropped the bucket that he had just saved as he reached for his MOP and for one last time, rammed it into the ground to let the lightning strike flow to the pole. A small stream of water came out of the water pillar and intercepted the lightning bolt, in what some might call a miraculous squirt, but the lightnig strike was redircted to the MOP. John smirked as the lightning hit the MOP handle and he felt a slight tingle. The water squirt wasn't his doing... not exactly. It was something of a parting gift of the arena, and a signal that the Water Lord would iat the least uphold the contract that had been agreed upon. John had made it clear that he would do whatever it took to represent the Water Lord, provided that he was still acting in the interest of said Lord. However, the moment the Water Lord arbitrarily withdrew support for his champion, John's part in the fight would also be at an end, and John wanted to go home. Alive. So he had made it an issue that if the Lord ever withdrew support, he would help ensure that the janitor would not be killed during the exit proccess, provided that John himself of course did not keep up the combat. This last point was a rather... unusual point to be sure, but John was quite adamant about returning home alive. As it would be evidenced, the Water Lord had eventually capitulated partially to this demand, though at what cost no one really knows. Some say the Water Lord was amused that someone would have the audacity to even make such a demand, let alone remain adamant upon the matter. Some say that John had something the Lord valued highly and would be offered in trade. Still others say that John resorted to unsavory methods. The darkest of whispers was of a Union Strike, something that would not only cripple Lore's livability,, but could potentially awaken a being of such disgusting power that it would most certainly pollute the Water Lord's vast oceans to an unsalvagable mess. Whatever it was, the fact that the bolt had been deflected had helped to save John from a nasty shock, and with that John slung his Mop over his shoulder, picked up his bucket, and walked towards the pillar. The pillar's waters slowly withdrew to form a doorway, also made of water, with a gentle downpour in front of it, acting like a curtain. The curtain of water cleansed John of his dirty mud, and allowed him out of the arena. Dell gripped the cold, cold bars of his Gate having run back there after wishing Shud a respectful farewell. The battle raged on. Lucia had turned Feral! Dell recognized the creature right away. He'd fought one here on Lore. They were known as werewolves. Mean as heck with a temper right up there along side what he felt in the combat himself. The ol Sheriffs head turned now to look towards the battle with John and Elysia. It was slightly difficult to make out from where he was, but Dell could see where things transgressed. "Go fer it John!" He called but could not be heard over the roar of the crowd as the bucket went flying. Dell sucked in a sharp breath. The bucket was John's trademark. And as it went sailing, John reacted. From what the sheriff could tell the man was a might angry. Dell heard, rather than saw the tone of the crowd change. The crowd was noisy so it was still very hard to hear them. He recognized enough words to piece it together. The Water Lord had withdrawn favor! "Oh cr-" Dell broke off what he was going to say and ran as fast as he could, heading for the Water Gateway. He gasped in a lungful of breath and stood in front, awaiting the appearance of his former Ally. As the wild sunlight played against the cool, refreshing feel of the area that gated for Water, Dell saw the gate opening. When John emerged from the gateway. Dell smiled happily and stepped aside giving the man and his gear plenty of room to pass. "Howdy John, Water Champion." Wolf sucked in a lungful of breath. "Thought Ah'd come pay ma respects to ya'll. You did fantastic in that thar rootin, shootin match o yers. Yessir, ah'm right proud o ya." Dell took his hat off and bowed down to his waist with respect. "Sorry ah couldn't help ya none pardoner, But ah was out fore ah could git on over that thar way." He gave John another joyful smile. "Happy Trail's pardoner. May all yer future endeavors be as great as this'un!" Dell stood by to watch the water champion leave. A final payment of respect from the Ice champion. Wether John chose to speak or not was entirely up to him. John gave him a nod, and walked out to the Janitors that had followed him to the arena. The all gave him Janitorial Salute, and together walked off into the sunset, back to the Juncture, where many more adventures awaited them.

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/24/2015 18:10:58)
The world came alive under Lucia’s new senses. The arena around her faded into hundreds of shades of grey. The hum from the swinging of the false tail evolved into a resounding boom. Murmurs from the crowd that had gone unnoticed before now became audible. The voices expressed their shock at the sudden transformation of the combatant of light. Their words fell on uncaring ears. Lucia concerned herself with the foe before her. With her scent of smell amplified, the rich aroma of the cat flowed off of her like a waterfall. Wave after wave of flavor washed over the lycan, each new surge carrying the same fragrance with a marginal twist in taste from the last. There was sorrow in the essence accompanied by a fierceness born from necessity. A hint of pity tainted the odor as well. It was all too enticing not to tear into and consume. The cat dared to flash her own fangs, but only after faltering at the mere sight of the lycan. Part of Micha was beast of the jungle; that much was as plain as the snout on her face. But the far larger part was that of a two-legged walker with her weave of emotions and dependency on weapons of iron. Had the wild heart beat true inside her, she would have cast aside her metal and leapt forward to greet claw with claw in a howling whirlwind. It would have been a brief yet fitting contest for the two predators. But her ferocity was a farce. Lucia’s prey opted to leap aside and away from danger much like a rabbit would. Micha wore the face of a jungle cat, but it was naught but a façade. The cat was just another two-legged walker masquerading as something stronger and mightier than what she was. There was confidence in her, but the wilderness did not thrive insider her. Her false tail lashed out, an iron viper striking for Lucia’s maw. Still in the air and unable to evade, Lucia raised her arm to catch the snake from underneath. Fur made contact against metal behind its head, sending the iron spiraling around her arm. Links matted down hairs before the head bashed her forearm. Pain jolted all along the bone as Lucia landed, her feet kicking up clouds of sand. The scent of blood from a thousand slain filled her nostrils. Pain was forgotten as the lycan inhaled the remnants of the dead. Her veins were set aflame. Thunder roared all along her nerves. Her muscles spasmed like the violent tremors of the earth. The sensation was beyond mere exhilaration. It was utter euphoria. Lucia turned to Micha with a rumbling in her throat and her vicious teeth bared. The closest prey was not always the easiest, but the hunger demanded satiation now. Grasping the chain with her free hand, the lycan pulled. She would remind Micha how the true beast fought to survive in the throes of the wild. First, Lucia would strip the cat of her false tail. Then, she would feed.

Starflame13 -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/24/2015 20:01:55)
A soft boom of thunder rolled across the sands as the Water pillar itself moved to redirect her bolt of lightning. Spray sizzled and turned to steam on contact, and the energy slammed once more into the metal handle of John’s mop. A shudder ran through the arena as the pillar returned to its initial state, and the gate behind it yawned open. Without the cry of chanters, the meaning still was clear: the Paragon of Water had been dismissed. Elysia raised her glaive in a salute as the man reclaimed his bucket, but immediately turned Blossom to face the snarls and flashes of metal and fang from the other fight. Had John intended to continue the fight without his Pillar’s aid, the Elemental would not have reached out to protect the former champion. The man must have an extraordinary sense of duty and dedication to cleanliness, for even as Elysia moved away, she caught the sound of a gentle, cleansing sound of water pattering against the rougher ground just outside the arena sands. Nudging Blossom to a steady walk, Elysia slowly began to approach the rising dust cloud that was the fast and deadly duel between the Champions of Light and Fire. Such irony that even here in the arena, one of the final battles had an enmity as great as two opposing elements. The battle between wolf and wildcat, canine and feline, fang and claw. Ordinarily, she might fear that her intrusion would give both predators the idea of trying to prey on the third animal of the arena; her horse. Still, Micha’s intelligence equaled, if not exceeded, that of most humans. Even if Lucia seemed currently beyond reason, she could at least count on one opponent to keep a cool head. Elysia sighed as she secured her glaive to the side of the saddle. Micha appeared to be racing towards the creature. With luck, the feline’s momentum would carry her past Lucia by several yards and give her enough time to spot, and defend herself from, Elysia’s next attack. Horse and rider paced even closer to the whirl of fur as the air around them seemed to still unnaturally. Blossom slowed to a stop as his rider took several deep breaths, half closing her eyes in concentration and cupping her hands before her. Lightning sprang into chaotic motion in her palms, weaving itself in and out of her fingers as she shaped it into a crackling orb. Just before she released the spell, she saw Lucia reach out to snag Micha’s chain. Perhaps the Fire Champion would be unable to dodge after all. Then, with a shake of her head to disperse with this worry for an opposer, she threw her arms wide. The minute globe of lightning convulsed, imploded to a speck of energy, then burst. Shock Wave Energy vanished from sight as it arched outward, a circle of magic radiating from Elysia, faster than any previous, puny bolt. Sand billowed and shifted beneath it like the waves of a sea caught in storm, leaving behind a strange rippling pattern, scarlet dunes alternating with shallow crimson valleys, giving the once smooth sands the appearance of rough terrain. The disturbances slowly eddied out, the sands at the edges of the arena appearing untouched as the remainder of the spell dispersed harmlessly into the walls of the arena. CRASH Thunder followed the wave, louder than the chanters and the screams of the crowd. It roared and rumbled and boomed, shaking the ground and causing the arena walls to tremble. Rather than softening, it seemed to crash louder and louder, rebounding of the sands until the area echoed and Blossom let loose a shrill, unheard neigh in protest. With a groan, Elysia slumped in the saddle, exhausted. Her breathing was rough and ragged as she rested her elbows on her knees, stroking Blossom with a shaky hand at an attempt to calm him. Shock wave may be her strongest spell, but it left her drained and shaky on top of the still-present headache from earlier. Beads of sweat slowly dripped down her forward, stinging her eyes and reminding her to look up with a jerk. She blinked, trying to make sense of the scene that was swimming before her, but she couldn’t make out either creature through the haze of exhaustion. Still, she knew what to expect from a blow like that. The initial, invisible energy would pass through both figures with no more than a tingle, but the true force behind the attack was the thunder. Normally, any caught in the blast were knocked flying off their feet. Weaker opponents were often paralyzed for minutes. But she knew better than to expect either Lucia or Micha to be a weak opponent. At best, it was likely they had both been badly disoriented, and possibly experienced permanent damage to their sensitive, animal-like hearing. At worst, they had some form of shield or magic to deflect the blow. Elysia pushed herself upright, one hand clutching her forehead, and used the other to uncap and drain the remaining water from her flask. The empty container she then let drop, disturbing the smooth circle of sand that marked the origin point of the immense outburst of energy.

Kellehendros -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/25/2015 0:20:18)
The thing that had been Lucia whipped an arm up to ward off the incoming blow. Rather than taking the meteor hammer directly to the limb, it managed to lift its defense against the chain itself. Driven by its momentum, and a suddenly available fulcrum point, the metal orb swung about the monster’s forearm, striking with bruising force. The blow hardly fazed the thing, however. In a spray of crimson granules, all snarling fangs, primal hunger, and wild eyes as it glared at her, the cursed creature landed. At which point it promptly surprised the Kissa. Demonstrating more intelligence than Micha might have hoped for in so horrifying a foe, the misbegotten beast reached out with its free hand and took hold of the chain. The Enkeli could have sworn that the monster’s growl took on a self-satisfied tone for a moment, and it began to pull. Micha leaned backwards instinctively, setting her wide paws against the red sand underfoot. Such an effort was futile though, doomed to ultimate failure. The Kissa doubted she was as strong as Light’s Chosen in her human form; fueled by curse and rage and want as the abomination was, there was no way Micha could win a battle of pure strength and muscle. Her feet slipped, skidding closer to the ravenous maw, and the Enkeli grimaced. In the space of a second half a dozen plans and gambits were considered and discarded. At best she might have tried to move with the pull, slacking the chain and then attempting to spin the loose links about the hellbeast’s forelimbs to ensnare them. It might even have worked, but for the fact the creature had only its grasping arm extended and clutching the chain, her chain. It was hardly a choice, but that did not make it hurt any less. The weapon had been a legacy of her father, a last memento to remember him by; losing it to the monster was hard to bear, but between life and death the choice was life, every time. The Kissa hauled back on the chain with a defiant roar, halting her forward slide. There would be only a moment before the curse-fueled abomination responded with overwhelming force. Micha shook her left arm, freeing it of the last loops of chain before they could draw tight about her flesh and tie her to the monster. The timing would have to be exact. She had to release her grasp on the links just as the horror pulled. With any luck, the lack of resistance on the chain would cause it to stagger, giving her long enough to regain some distance. The Enkeli was just about to drop the dart when she caught a flash of movement at the corner of her eye. Elysia was approaching, still mounted atop her steed… and gathering her blue-white magic before her. That shifted the calculus of the situation, and Micha had a fraction of a second to decide how to react. Heretofore, Energy’s Chosen had shown herself more than adept at ranged combat: casting forth lightning bolts and calling skyfire to hand. The Enkeli did not recognize this spell, but the only conclusion she could come to after seeing Elysia’s demonstrations of power thus far was that this would be more of the same. That made the Kissa’s next move rather straightforward. At the other end of the chain the abomination pulled. Micha rocked forward with the beast’s pull, and then twisted. Her left hand flashed out, hurling the dart and attached chain in Elysia’s direction. Once lightning answered the caller’s will, it would seek the swiftest path to ground. That path would be the the flexible lightning rod of metal links curling through the air and leading back to the chain wound about the monster’s forearm. The Enkeli turned and bounded away, leaping into the air again in a desperate bid for distance as she curled in on herself. The motion was entirely reflexive, driven by a powerful desire to avoid another encounter with the lightning caller’s skyfire. As it turned out, however, Lucia was not the only one with surprises to uncover. The Kissa’s keen ears caught the expected sizzle and crack of lightning, and then all the background bedlam of the Arena was swallowed by the ire of a thunderous, bone-rattling crash. A hot, crushing wave of wind hammered into Micha, lifting the Kissa like a kitten and sending her twirling and hurtling through the air in the direction of the Earth Pillar. She let her body go limp as she spun with the power of the impact, tail flashing and limbs flailing as she tried to gain some control over her flight. She was, partially, successful. The Enkeli hit the incarnadine sand with far less grace than she was capable of, sliding several dazed feet. In her skull the pain was terrific, her hearing reduced by the massive blast of concussive noise to little more than a high, indefinite, atonal whine. Micha groaned, one hand going to her triangular ears and coming away from the right-hand one spotted with blood. The Kissa winced, flicking the droplets off in tribute to the Arena sands. Her right hand dropped to her final bola, her left drew the dirk strapped to her leg. The pain stabbing through her head told her that her eardrum had ruptured from the salvo of thunder. Hearing anything was out of the question, and as though the injury was not enough, the Enkeli could feel that her balance was off as well. Golden eyes narrowed against the pain as the bola in her right hand began to whirl. Fighting with the dirk was far from her preferred way to do battle, but there was little choice now. If the abomination decided to come at her again, she hoped the bola would be enough to delay its rush. She needed to slow the thing down. Perhaps that would be enough for her or Elysia to finish it off. It would have to be enough; Micha was running out of tricks of her own.

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/26/2015 16:46:01)
Padded paws displaced sand as Lucia reeled in her enemy. Rather than discard the iron and face the lycan with her own innate abilities, the cat clung to her false tail as if it was her own flesh and bone. A rumbling growl escaped through the werewolf’s bared teeth. Liar. Pretender. Fraud. Micha was nothing more than a human wearing a cat’s skin. The intimidation tactic may have invoked the fears in other two-legged walkers, but it would not have the same effect on her. She posed as much a threat to Lucia as the lamb did to the lion. A little closer and she would rip the little cat to see if her insides were more animal or man. At last, Micha threw away her iron but proceeded to disappoint as she bounded away from the lycan and the fight. Underneath she was neither human nor cat but a scared little rabbit who had encountered her first predator. Lucia’s teeth flashed in a wicked grin as she crouched to pounce upon her prey. A rabbit could be wily in the hunt, but there was no place to run to or hide amidst these sands. Leg muscles tensed and then released their stored energy as Lucia sprung forward with arms spread wide. A thunderclap sounded, splitting the lycan’s ears as she was tossed aside by the accompanying shockwave. Her vision went black before she hit the sands. She sprawled blind as the blare of storms filled her skull and reverberated with a furious passion. Lucia roared as heavy hands clamped on her head, failing to relieve the pressure swelling inside. Her body convulsed against the sands as the cacophony left the arena but refused to flee her mind. A shrill howling remained ever-present in her ears as her sight returned in blurred shapes of grey. Feet kicked out and flailed, unable to find purchase on their own. She pushed herself up with arms and got to her feet only to stumble a few steps before crashing back down into the sands. The lycan voiced her frustration and clenched her head as a different voice permeated her mind. Stop! This isn’t- Claws raked and drew blood as the werewolf shook her head back and forth. -right! This has to end! Lucia raised herself onto all fours, panting. The pleading continued. Everything is so wrong. The lycan stood there, the only motion coming as a result of her labored breathing. It can’t be this way. A clawed hand peeled away the cat’s false tail from her arm. The matted fur remained as it was: clinging close to the sore limb. Lucia cast the iron aside and took in a slow, deep breath. Please, stop this. Plea- The voice was drowned out as Lucia howled, the sound piercing through the air with renewed fury. Her back arched and head raised high as if bellowing to the very heavens to dare give challenge. She snapped her gaze back down at the one who had split her mind and cursed her ears with the unending shriek. Horse and master lay in wait a short distance away. The scent of salt wafted over to the lycan. It was so pungent she could taste it. Sweat, exhaustion, weak. The caller of storms had harmed Lucia at a great cost to herself. She would pay many-fold over for that mistake. The lycan bounded forward on all fours, the extra limbs aiding in keeping her upright during the charge. Her path weaved left and right as she struggled to make her way to the trespasser. There would be little left of mount and rider once Lucia was finished with them.

Starflame13 -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/26/2015 21:59:30)
One blink, one ragged breath. Another blink, another shaky gasp for air. A third blink, and a third breath taken, before Elysia’s sight began to clear, her heart pounding in her chest as she slowly fought for control over the air in her lungs. The crimson dunes slid, sending tiny motes of dust sparkling in the sunlight as the last of the breezes died out and the remaining echoes faded, leaving behind a strange silence and stillness of the scene before her. In complete disbelief, Elysia watched Micha and Lucia begin to struggle to their feet amidst the scarlet sands. Somehow both fighters had been caught in the full force of the shock wave, lifted and tossed aside as easily as dandelion fluff before a wind storm. Fire’s Champion, despite the swiftness and intelligence she so often displayed, seemed worse off. Her glinting chain remained wrapped around the werewolf’s matted forearms, and though she had a weapon in either hand, crimson blood dripped through the delicate fur of one ear to spatter against the ground beneath her. Similarly colored patterns had been sprinkled across her limbs and torso from her sandy fall. She managed to get herself to a standing position, but seemed off balance, and she moved slowly as if to avoid another disgraceful tumble. Lucia, or at least the thing she had become, also struggled to remain upright. Clawed hands clutched at a hairy skull as the werewolf let loose howl after howl, making Blossom prance in instinctual fear. The creature rose, convulsed, and collapsed writhing in the sands, drawing blood from its own forehead and sending the drops flying across the sands as it shook itself violently. It raised itself again, this time to all fours, before becoming strangely motionless. Elysia could just barely make out its eyes, filled with inner turmoil, intellect driving through the pain and primal fury pushing away the intellect. Was Lucia not truly in control of this thing? Was the once noble warrior even now fighting against the snarling abomination, straining to regain her own body and mind? The struggle lasted for a few moments, before the brightness in the werewolf’s eyes died and yet another howl tore itself from its throat. Glaring menacingly, it raised its snout to the air as it sniffed at horse and rider, before lunging at them across the sands. Its path wavered dramatically as it staggered first this way, then that, its four limbs keeping it upright as it continued its rushing motion forward. Elysia straightened herself fully in the saddle with a grimace. Micha was alive but unlikely to be much help for quite some time as the feline recovered from the blow to her sensitive hearing. That left it to the Champion of Energy to take care of this beast. With all three remaining competitors either exhausted or injured, the fight itself could not last that much longer. A quick grin flickered across her face as she noted that the one least affected by fatigue was Blossom. Heaven help her if it was her horse who got to ask a wish of the Elemental lords, rather than she. The brief flash of humor relaxed Elysia's mind, allowing various plans once more to whirl through her thoughts. She had enough energy left for a couple of weaker bolts at the most, but with time running out, her remaining strength would have to be enough. Her biggest problem was that the creature now bounding towards her had shed Micha’s chain, and thus possessed no trace of metal on its hairy, wiry body. For now. With the familiar ripple of current, she dragged up the last bits of her magic to form a bolt in her left hand, this one wide and short rather than long and slim. In her right hand, she drew her short hunting knife. Twirling the blade so that the hilt thunked heavily into her palm, she brought her hand in a smooth motion behind her shoulder, before throwing the weapon at Lucia’s chest. She knew her aim was not at its best, but given how the monster’s swaying lessened as it approached, that mattered little. Taking a single breath to allow the blade to travel enough of the distance, Elysia hurled the lighting in her other hand after it. The bolt would track the metal of her knife, but upon contact, the wide, jagged surface would still reach out small branches in an attempt to catch anything close by. A lucky throw would render the bolt unnecessary, but even a glancing snag with the lightning would give the werewolf quite a nasty shock. Kicking Blossom into a fast cantor, Elysia guided her mount out of the path of Lucia’s charge and brought him around the Energy pillar, maintaining a careful distance as she did so. The two then continued around the edge of the arena, turning back to face the center as they drew closer to the Light pillar and making it impossible for Lucia to give chase without looking at the brilliance head on. If Elysia had truly seen Lucia’s eyes trapped in this creature's body, then perhaps the sight of the heavenly beacon of judgment and justice might return the Paladin’s honorable mind to her now twisted and misshapen form. As Blossom slowed to a stop abreast of the pillar of Light, she once more lifted her glaive. Whether or not Lucia regained her reasoning, Elysia steeled herself to charge whichever form stood in front of her when the beast turned around.

Kellehendros -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/27/2015 17:30:49)
Micha wavered slightly, grimacing. The horrendous whining that had substituted itself for her hearing was receding, the sound gradually replaced by a hissing susurration that throbbed eerily in time with the pain radiating through her skull. She had the unsettling notion that she was hearing the sound of her own beating heart and rushing blood. The Kissa tried to concentrate on the steady whup, whup, whup of the bola in her right hand; that sound was more imagined than heard, thanks to her impaired hearing and likely ruined ear. Whirling through each revolution, the stone-weighted weapon sent a steady shock of vibration up her arm. The familiar feeling was a welcome contrast to her still uncertain footing; Micha focused on it for a moment, breathing slowly, before turning her amber gaze toward Elysia and Lucia. The monstrous thing that had once been the Paragon of Light seemed to have fared worse than the Kissa herself had in the lightning caller’s unexpected sonic assault. It writhed and contorted in a fury; clawed fingers clamped over its skull and drew blood as it bared its fangs and howled. At least, Micha assumed it was howling; she was probably a minute or so from hearing aught else but the thudding of her own pulse. The Enkeli’s heart sank as the abomination made its way shakily back to its feet before shedding the chain coiled about its arm and throwing its head back to bay defiance to the sky. Glittering as it cascaded to the sand, Micha’s chain raised a brief puff of ochre dust from the Arena floor. While the Kissa was glad that might mean a chance to retrieve the heirloom, she was also unsettled by another demonstration of the beast’s greater-than-average intelligence. Without the metal upon its body to attract the Paragon of Energy’s skyfire, it would have a much better chance of avoiding Elysia’s next strike. The curse that beset Light’s Chosen was strong, but Lucia must still be in there somewhere; the thing that had so consumed her, animalistic though it was, seemed able to tap some portion of the human woman’s intelligence. What will it take to bring her out? Answering that question wrong might mean death, and the only answers the Enkeli could produce were time and exhaustion. All three of them were flagging, battered by foes and weary from operating at the ten-tenths capacity required to balance on the knife-edge of life and death. The cursed wolf lunged into a wavering, weaving charge that showed it just as affected by Elysia’s last spell as Micha was; perhaps the lupine thing was just as tired as well. One last throw… Micha growled softly, the noise rumbling up from her chest, inaudible over the roar of the crowed and lost to even her own impaired hearing. It was not a sound of hate or anger, only resolution. Whatever happened, all of this was coming to a close. The Kissa shuffled to her left, focusing as best she could on the monster’s staggering lope. Under normal conditions, Micha had no doubt of her ability to make the shot. Lead the target, adjust slightly for distance, let the bola do the rest, just as she had on a thousand practice throws or a hundred hunting expeditions. She had done it before, scything the legs out from beneath a deer or even taking a bird on the wing. Of course, these were not normal circumstances. Her head was throbbing, her body felt like it had been beaten, and her target was moving erratically. With her balance thrown off by her damaged ear, the Enkeli reckoned she had as good a chance to miss entirely as to hit, and if she hit she was more likely to land a blow to the body than to snare her target's legs. That might have its own advantages, assuming the contact was solid enough to break the beast’s ribs. “Lyth lend me strength. Guide my hand,” Micha whispered, a prayer to the goddess whose province was war, and then the Enkeli let out a high, yowling kiai as she spun and threw. The motion and momentum was too much for the Kissa’s impaired balance, and she wound up on one knee, her right arm pointed at the cursed creature. Ahead of her, something flashed from Elysia’s hand as the former Paragon of Light’s charge straightened out. Metal glittered in the light, and though the Enkeli could not hear, she could imagine the snap-hiss as magic gathered and the lightning caller’s skyfire soared after the dagger. It might be the abomination had time to dodge, but perhaps it would be enough to stop the thing, or even to kill it. If that was the case… Micha would find herself alone in the Arena with the lightning caller now cantering her swift steed about the edge of the Arena. In the Kissa’s left hand the dirk turned, blade resting flat and cool against the fur of her forearm. If the monster dodged, the bola might yet bind it and bring it down, or wound it enough to knock it from the fight. If it did not, if the horrible thing and its hungry maw came back for her… Elysia or the abomination, what came next was knife-work. “Wish me luck, Ked…”

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (9/30/2015 18:03:40)
A crackling bolt gleamed in one hand of the caller of storms while a glint of silver flashed in the other. In a swift motion the silver flew towards the lycan. Lucia dropped down and pressed the length of her body against the sand to avoid the incoming iron. Down, at least, was one direction that did not require much effort to follow when balance could not be counted on. As the iron passed overhead, Elysia released the concentrated energy she had gathered. The lightning passed the lycan's field of vision before pain struck the mid of her back and spread throughout her being. It burned as it spread through flesh and bone like a thousand hot needles piercing her inside and out. Muscles contracted without approval as she waited for the torment to subside. The metallic taste of blood coated her tongue. The pungent odors of coal and sulfur saturated her nostrils. Abandon it! The voice had returned. Her eyes watered as the acrid stench stung. Abandon this path! The lycan rose to her feet and thrashed back and forth, failing to shake off the loathsome scent. Lucia’s very body had become repulsive to her own senses. Aban- A crack accompanied by pain on her flank flared new rage in the lycan. She jerked her head to the side to glower at the source. The cat had struck from afar, taking advantage of Lucia’s wounded state. Lips and skin peeled back to bare wicked fangs. The lycan had been wounded, but Micha’s stones had not slain it. She had blundered in the killing stroke. Now it was her turn to be on the receiving end. Claws tore through sand as the lycan bounded towards the cat. Wrath outshone pain, and Lucia launched herself at her prey. Ears still ringing, her aim was off as she plunged forward lower than anticipated. The cat made an attempt to spin out of the lycan’s path, but it was clear her sense of balance was still unstable as well as her padded foot slipped from beneath her, causing her to stagger. Wolfish shoulder collided with feline waist, sending the hunters crashing to the ground. The two struggled in a tussle of fur and fang. Lucia snapped her jaws as they rolled across the bloodstained sands. Micha was the quicker one, with greater reflexes and superior technique in movement. But Lucia had raw strength on her side. The contest came to an end when Lucia found herself on top and forced Micha’s shoulders to the ground. She was trapped. The lycan growled as she glowered into the feline’s face below her. The aroma rolling off of her was overwhelming in this close proximity. It was intoxicating, it was sweet, it was invigorating all at once. Saliva collected in her jaw. This hunt was over.

Kellehendros -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (10/1/2015 0:02:43)
The thing that had been Lucia eeled to the sands, slipping under Elysia’s dagger. It fared less well against the lightning caller’s bolt, and Micha felt a surge of elated hope as the monstrosity crashed to the ground. That hope was stifled as the beast thrashed and bellowed, sounds of rage and pain that were just beginning to cut through the whine suffusing the Kissa’s ears. Snarling as it rose, the cursed wolf shook itself as though beset by flies or searching for some unseen presence nearby. Thwack! Unnoticed in flight, the bola had whirled in and struck its target. Micha’s aim, to her expectations, had been off. Rather than binding the abomination’s legs, the stone and leather weapon hammered her opponent’s side. The monstrous beast staggered and whirled, leveling its hateful gaze on the Kissa. For a moment the entire Arena seemed to still as the wolf gathered itself. The creature charged, and Micha stood her ground. Her hand tightened about the hilt of the dirk. She could not outrun this thing in her current state; if she was to survive, her timing would have to be absolutely flawless. The plan formed in her mind: Pivot just as the monstrosity leaped, drop to one knee, strike back and up with the dirk, and pray for a fatal blow. If she mistimed her movement, if she missed her strike, she was as good as dead. Micha held, biting her lip, every inch of her on edge… And then the world shifted. But no, it was not the world, it was her. For a second her vision was washed in flame, but when it dissipated ghosts rose from the ash. The Enkeli cried out as the phantoms of the past surged back to prominence, turning her vision into a swirling maelstrom of combatants. She knew what it meant. As with the other Paragons before her, the force, the intelligence that had sponsored her had withdrawn itself in favor of another combatant. Her continued survival overrode those concerns, however. The beast! Where is the beast? Micha lurched ungracefully to one side, the ill-considered, panicked motion causing her to slip as she found her answer. The cursed abomination burst through the haze of spirits, shoulder solidly impacting her hip. Together the pair spun down to the ochre sand. For a wild and confused moment Kissa and curse-wolf rolled, struggling for leverage and advantage. But it was the beast that wound up on top, paws digging into Micha’s shoulders as its baleful eyes bored into her. Her left hand, somehow, still clenched the dirk. She could kill it. From this angle, it would be an easy thrust. Up, between the ribs, directly into the heart. Micha stared at the monster straddling her, its chest heaving as slaver ran from its jaws. She could kill it; she should kill it, even if the price of the attempt was her own life. It would be a kindness, surely, to end Lucia’s suffering. But it had not killed her yet. In fact, the thing seemed to hesitate, and in that stillness another voice spoke to her, one she had not heard in a very long time. “You’ve the Sight, Micha.” Her father smiled gently, and the Kissa half-felt, half-remembered a gentle touch on either temple. “Your mother had a touch of it, but you have it sure as daylight.” That had frightened her when she was younger. Micha had not wanted to be Enkeli. She was different enough from the other village children as it was; it was not fair she should have to be Enkeli too, to bear this burden of sight that reached beyond sight. “It’s confusing, rakas, I know. Just remember this: The Lohikaarme gave us the Sight to make the world a better place. Whatever you do, whatever you see, if you use it to help another, it will never lead you wrong.” Above her, the creature that had been Light’s Chosen glared, and the Enkeli could see the brackish chains of dark magic that bound the curse to the woman. But the woman was in there still. Lucia was in there. Micha had thought she and Elysia could exhaust the monster, run it ragged and allow the Paragon of Light to fight her way free. The Kissa could see now how wrong that was. Staring up at the tortured thing, Micha saw that it was Lucia, and Lucia was it. Perhaps the curse had drawn it out, fueled it, allowed the dark-thing its terrible ascendancy, but that did not mean it did not come from Lucia. The beast would relinquish its hold on Lucia when it was sated, unless Lucia could defeat it herself. That was the only way. Unless, of course, Micha was wrong. But what other choice was there? She could strike and die, remain still and die, or she could try. Between life and death the choice was life, every time. The dirk fell from Micha’s fingers to the sand, and she lifted her hands slowly. Lightly, gently, she ran her hands through the wild and matted fur, up Lucia’s flanks to her shoulders. The Kissa’s voice was soft as she spoke. “It hurts. I’m sorry, Lucia, I know it hurts. It hurts and it hates, this thing that has devoured you. But it is you, Lucia. It isn’t separate from you; it is you. It hurts to hold it, it hurts to face it, but until you do you don’t control it, it controls you.” The Enkeli closed her eyes, fingers curling through Lucia’s fur as she drew the beast down, hugging it gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (10/6/2015 22:48:36)
The cat made no move to free herself from Lucia's grasp. Instead, the knife slipped through her fingers and her hands reached out for the lycan. Her muscles tensed, and Lucia emitted a low growl in response. But Micha’s touch was that of a soft caress rather than a harmful blow, and Lucia felt herself relaxing as the hands brushed through her fur. A new fragrance permeated the air as well as shone in the feline’s bright eyes. Pity. Gentle words cut through the incessant whistling in her ears. “It hurts. I’m sorry, Lucia, I know it hurts.” She was speaking to her, to Lucia. No one had ever dared to try to talk to her when she had taken this form. “It hurts and it hates, this thing that has devoured you.” The words rang deep within the hollow pit inside of the lycan. The curse had not just been inflicted upon her, it had taken her. Corrupted her, twisted, her, cast her into the shadows. It loomed over her day and night, waiting to seize control at the slightest display of weakness. It was a constant battle, and one that Lucia could not win, only delay. “But it is you, Lucia. It isn’t separate from you; it is you. It hurts to hold it, it hurts to face it, but until you do you don’t control it, it controls you.” Stomach twisted and heart welled as Micha’s fingers entwined in her furs and pulled her into a soft embrace. “I’m so sorry”. A shudder passed through her body at the tender display. Fear, rejection, self-castigation…none of these were the correct answer in the question of her affliction. Punishment only caused pain and harm, hatred only begot more hatred. All this time Lucia had been driving this beast to the abyss with full-readiness to hurl them both over the edge. But it was not a contest between paladin and lycan, but a mission of harmony as paladin and lycan. Pain was not the answer… …reconciliation was. Lucia’s neck lurched back in a spasm, and the lycan broke contact with the cat. She threw herself to the side to avoid bludgeoning Micha as she convulsed. Limbs and body contorted in painful configurations as the change took her. Thick hairs fell in clumps to reveal the soft skin underneath. Bones mangled and popped as they reverted back to their original form. Fangs and claws shortened to ordinary teeth and plain nails as the last of the transformation process passed. When all was said and done, Lucia the paladin lay on her side with her arms spread out in front of her and eyes clamped shut. Lucia sputtered and coughed for a few moments before flopping onto her back. She turned her head and spat out a large wad. Judging from the iron taste and syrupy texture, it was a mix of blood and saliva. The scarlet hue would make it seem more serious than it was, but right now Lucia could not care less. It had been her blood and her blood alone; that was good enough. She put a palm to her forehead, fighting the urge to vomit. Three times out of five Lucia lost her stomach upon reverting back to human form. A chain link dissolved to ease her cold sweat and feverish mind. Part of the fog lifted, but a mist still hung heavy in her thoughts. The worst of it, at least, was over. Bright eyes opened and the paladin brought herself up to a sitting position. Micha still lay in the sands just an arm’s length away while Elysia waited by the Pillar of Light. They appeared just as fierce as they had moments ago, but something was different. Lucia ran a hand across her forehead and through her hair, her palm coming away sticky with dried blood. Before her reversion, Lucia had no doubt that either one of the combatants would have capitalized on her disadvantage. But now…now there was no hint of enmity in the air. They were no longer competitors, but three strangers meeting at a crossroad. Micha waited for Lucia’s reaction, aware that at any moment she might be reunited with Kedron in a fashion rather more bloody than she had hoped. The fatal bite did not come though, and the Kissa slowly opened her eyes. A moment later, the weight of the wolf vanished as she cast herself aside, bucking and thrashing again as the threads of dark magic began to disperse. The Enkeli watched, wincing slightly in sympathy as the painful transformation was reversed; Lucia emerged from the lupine form, her chains of golden magic glinting as she sat up unsteadily. Micha was not so graceful herself as she came up to one knee and cast a swift glance in Elysia’s direction, spotting her indistinctly through the haze of spirits. The Kissa thought Energy’s Chosen had reached the same conclusion Micha herself had: This day belonged to the Paragon of Light. Golden eyes turned back to Lucia, finding the woman watching her. Micha bore the scrutiny of that gaze for a silent moment, and then spoke. “You have taken the first step.” The Kissa’s right hand curled into a fist that she pressed over her heart; turning her gaze down to the sand. A single tear for Kedron escaped, slipping down the dark tracks along her snout. The Enkeli turned her hand over, holding it out towards Lucia as it unfurled to reveal her empty palm. “I yield the field to you, to the ferocity of your heart and the capacity of your will. If there is mercy in your heart to grant me one boon, Champion, I would ask that you allow me to reclaim my father’s chain before I depart.” The gesture made by the feline was strange to Lucia but the intent could not be mistaken in neither her actions nor her words. The fight was over; Lucia was the victor by mandate of the competitor. A fortunate result as the paladin’s legs wobbled beneath her even as she stood. It would not have taken much to subdue her in this state. Fire’s Paragon spoke from the heart as she bestowed praise upon Lucia. The words were flattering, but the greater portion of commendation belonged to Micha. In the midst of conflict with death at her throat - in quite the literal sense – she had chosen compassion and love over self-preservation. Before Lucia only saw the Chosen of Fire as a combatant; now she had caught a glimpse into Micha’s soul. A tear glistened as it rolled down the feline’s face. The paladin’s head was still reeling as she pieced together what she saw with what she heard. A drop of sadness. A request for a father’s chain. A tournament to grant a wish. Micha had come to undo what by nature could not be undone. Burdened by grief, she had traversed to Bren and staked her life to save another from death. But that fragment of hope had been shattered when she admitted defeat. There were few fates worse than being robbed of hope. Lucia had learned from experience. The paladin only nodded in response to Micha’s request. What could she say? What can one say to the individual who has lost a loved one not once but twice? Words are wind. They blow every which way, pushing and pulling drifters to dance on their gusts while rolling over those of sturdier stuff. Words are wind. But even the right wind can bring comfort on a harsh day. “He would be proud of you,” Lucia called out as Micha walked away. “Proud of what his little daughter has become. I knew him not, but the angels on high and saints in their lofty abodes are smiling down upon you for your actions today. Life is so fragile while death comes so easily. You…you chose the former.” Lucia swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with her own tears. “You’ve given me hope in trade for your own. I have a debt to you that I can never repay, but speak the words and I will do all in my power to make it so.” Micha looked up slowly, a quiet smile crossing her face as Lucia nodded her assent. The Kissa rose and moved over the sands gingerly. Her balance felt off, and the world was muted on her right side because of the damage to her ear. Perhaps one of the apothecaries could do something for it once all of this was ended. She walked carefully to her father’s heirloom and gathered it up. Winding the weapon slowly, the Kissa hung it in its accustomed place at her hip, her smile turning sad as Lucia spoke. The Paragon of Light was mistaken about the reasons that Micha had come here, but in the end she was not so far off the mark. “Do not forget what you have learned here, and I will hold myself repaid.” With that, the Kissa drew back a quiet and respectful distance. Amber eyes moved to Elysia, who had held her place and her peace throughout the exchange. What passed next Micha would have no part of, but she would stay and watch. To be Enkeli was to bear witness, and according to the stories Micha had heard, the spectacle was not yet finished. Words were not enough, but an oath might suffice. Lucia bowed her in acknowledgement to the challenge set upon her shoulders by Micha. Today was the first day for her. For two years the paladin had wandered, lost in the darkness. This was the day her path had been illuminated for her. She knew not where it led, but it did not matter. By faith alone Lucia had reached this far; faith would serve to carry her a bit farther. With both previous combatants a safe distance away, Lucia turned her gaze to the sky above. There is but one sky to share. It was one of the teachings of Saint Augustine that she had clung to after all this time. The followers of the Lady of Light were scattered across the globe, but the heavens in their azure glory blanketed all of Lore to unite its many inhabitants. People lived on different lands, drank from different waters, and warmed themselves with different fires, but they all gazed at the same sky. The audience gasped and awed as the sun flared in crimson radiance. A ring of scarlet burst forth from the solar body. Clouds burned bronze for an instant before evaporating against the sun’s fury. The expanding circlet passed from view as a single beam of golden light fell onto Lucia. She took in a sharp breath and winced as the warmth flooded her. It was unexpected but pleasant like the shock of cold water on a scorching day. Pain and discomfort ebbed away, trickling from her head through the torso down her limbs and out her digits. Her heart rate slowed and muscles relaxed as the heaven’s light bathed her. Lucia could have fallen asleep standing there and might have done so had a voice not intruded upon her mind. You have come a long way, little lost one. Many trials have you surpassed to stand where you are. Speak, Champion, and receive your Boon. Lucia hesitated. Her affliction was why she come in the first place. To rid herself of it was the lofty dream she had held for two long years… …but now she was unsure. Micha had, pardon the expression, shed new light on her condition. The shadow of the lycan was as much a part of her as was the light of the paladin. Learn to except my gifts, was what the Goddess had told her. ALL of my gifts. Lucia’s eyes wandered over to Micha. She had come to save a loved one. It was certain her wish was a worthy one of being granted. Her eyes shifted again and fell on Elysia. What had spurred her forth? Was her wish worthy as well, perhaps even more so than the Paragon of Fire’s? The paladin looked up towards the crowd, its members dissolving into a mesh of colors and shapes the farther it stretched back. And what about their wishes and dreams? Year in and year out, travelers all across Lore came to this city for their own desires to be fulfilled. Every tournament people without the means of their own to fight watched as others turned their dreams into reality. If they could, for what would they wish? Who amongst them needed a wish most? A smile tugged on the corner of Lucia’s lips as she remembered another fragment of what the Lady of Light had said to her before the Finals. You will not win what you seek, and what you seek is not what you want. How mysterious it was at the time, and yet so straightforward now. Lucia should have known better than to search for a riddle where there was none. Truth often hid in plain sight for those with the courage to see it. “There are already too many wishers in this city without me,” she began aloud. “Let us reduce that number by one. In all of Bren and its surrounding parts, there must dwell one who needs a miracle the most. My wish is for the fulfillment of that one.” It is done, the voice spoke. Will you hear of what has transpired? “Nay,” said Lucia with a grin on her face, the first one in a long time. A part of her wanted to ask, but she knew better than to revel in her own acts. “That it was done is enough for me.” Then it all comes to a close. The light engulfing her pulsed with streams of white, merigold, rose, and tangerine. It fell across the arena, illuminating all in its range with its range of hues. Here you stand, Lucia Deis, Champion of Light. The colors flicked across the sands faster, each one shining brilliant for but a moment before giving way to the next. You are not one to boast of your accomplishments, but from henceforth this Crown will act to your credit when your words will not. It shall shine in the darkest when you burn brightest. Her vision warped and was replaced with a figure heralding a head burning of all the flavors of the sun. Lucia gasped as she recognized the figure to be herself as how the arena viewed her. An aura of swirling colors engulfed her head and rays of light shined forth in all directions in a fiery display. The vision faded, the arena creeping back into sight. The Crown gave one last pulse of majesty before snapping out of existence, like the snuffing of a candle’s flame. All that was left was Lucia – the paladin, the lycan – standing in her simple clothes with her golden chains swaying from her wrists. It was over.

Starflame13 -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (10/8/2015 22:31:42)
The scent of singed fur wafted across the arena, causing Elysia to sneeze, tears stinging the corners of her eyes at the horrid stench. Blossom snorted violently, prancing to the side and a step closer to the gleaming pillar on their left. Lucia, still contorted into a horrid beast, jerked sideways across the sand, muscles spasming from the aftershock of Elysia’s bolt. Before it could recover, the creature was again sent reeling, this time by a solid hit from one of Micha’s contraptions. Despite her disorientation, the feline’s aim still had connect a solid shot, though not an entangling one. With a snarl, the werewolf turned, away from the redemption of the Pillar of Light and towards the prey that had wounded it. Scarlet grains sprayed outwards as the beast charged. Its prey scrambled before it, Fire’s Champion vainly attempting to dodge, but too slow. Fang slashed against fur as the werewolf smashed into Micha, sending both forms tumbling into a writhing mass onto the sands. Acting almost instinctively, Elysia raised a hand to hurl lighting at the beast, wanting to throw it off and away. But no, the two fighters were too intertwined. She could never hit one without harming the other. Springing free from the saddle, and smacking her horse hard in the flank to send him flying the opposite way across the arena, Elysia landed and began to sprint towards the fighters, glaive poised to run Lucia through. Time slowed. Elysia ran onward, struggling against her own exhaustion and the uneven waves of terrain left behind from the shockwave. The whirl of fur stilled, Micha pinned to the sands under the unforgiving claws of the werewolf. Even from this distance, she could see drool dripping down the fangs as it growled in the feline’s face. A tingling started at the back of Elysia neck, a shivering, pulsing sensation that halted her even as she watched the Paragon of Light bear down on Micha. Elemental Energy. Like before, no words entered Elysia’s mind. Merely flashes of feeling and emotion permeating her being. A soft, shaking feeling of disappointment: not in its champion, merely in the outcome of the match. Followed by a tension, the static filled air before the final bolt came to pass. Elysia knew, as weariness dragged at her hands and the tip of the glaive buried itself in the crimson below, that the arena had declared another victorious. But she still had to escape with her life, something that not even the Elemental at the edges of her conscious was sure of anymore. Her muscles tightened as the Elemental increased its attention, eyes narrowing in response at Micha’s movements. A trembling, tawny arm lifted hesitantly, blade falling from her fingers as it wrapped itself around the straw colored shoulders of the beast that held its torso pinned to the sand. In a move, whether of immense courage or foolishness or even some strange type of empathy, Elysia could not decide, Micha wrapped her arms around the monster in a gentle embrace, hugging the thing close to her heart. The three competitors held still, a sigh seeming to ripple through the arena at such a strange tableau of desperation and insanity. Then, with a sudden jerk, the werewolf threw itself free from its connection with the feline. Fur was thrown, golden straw mingling with scarlet as it writhed and twisted violently. A final contortion, a gasping, painful groan, and Lucia lay sprawled across the arena sands; human, vulnerable, and somehow more whole than before. Coughing and retching slightly, the Paladin struggled into a sitting position. Micha, too, clumsily dragged herself to her feet. Elysia herself stumbled slightly as the Elemental presence left her with a last whisper of relief, and a parting sensation of pride in her performance. She rested the butt of her glaive against the sands, leaning against it as she might a staff as she surveyed the other two women. Exchanging a glance with Micha, the Paragons of Fire and Energy seemed to have agreed. Today was victory for the Lady of Light. Elysia allowed Micha to approach the Champion first. Fire’s chosen conversed quietly, before inclining her sleek head in respect and turning to walk across the sands. The feline reclaimed the chain, rust colored from specks of sand. As she did so, Elysia raised her glaive in silent salute, before turning to watch the paladin. She had words to speak to both later, if they stayed long enough to listen, but first came Lucia’s own choice. Lucia bowed her head, covered head to foot in sand and clumps of discarded fur, before gazing high overhead. The moment she did so, it burst into radiance, brighter even than the lights that had brought them to the arena. Flares of scarlet, rivaling the sands below, soared across the sky, framing coppery clouds as a sunbeam pierced through the radiance, illuminating the lady in soft, warm light. All was silent; even the murmurings of the crowd stilled as they regarded the granting of the wish. Then Lucia’s voice rang out, strong and confident once more, “There are already too many wishers in this city without me. Let us reduce that number by one. In all of Bren and its surrounding parts, there must dwell one who needs a miracle the most. My wish is for the fulfillment of that one.” Her remaining words were swept away as the watchers jumped to their feet, a roar nearly as loud as thunder echoing from stand to stand as people cheered and screamed, each yelling for that one split second chance, each praising the nobleness for giving it away. Then came the Light, the Crown, springing into existence with a blaze of flame and fervor, as if the sun itself had claimed its wreath about Lucia’s brows. Slowly, the sunbeam faded until only the glory of the Crown and Paladin remained. And then, it too had vanished, leaving Lucia standing alone at the center of the arena, at peace with herself once more. Elysia took a deep breath, trembling in awe at the sight she had just witnessed. Brighter and more beautiful than any lightning storm had been the Crown of Light, its glimmer slowly fading away from her eyes with each blink. Taking a breath, she then approached Lucia. However that glimpse of heaven had illuminated her, still Lucia remained herself, strong and noble in her simple clothes. She drew to a few yards away, then planted her glaive and bowed low at the waist. Straightening, she smiled faintly. “I now truly pity we never got a chance to test our strength against one another.” Lucia rubbed a weary eye with the palm of her hand. “I think I’ve had enough of your lightning to fulfill a lifetime, and then some.” Conceding the point with a nod, Elysia continued, “When you recover, I would be honored should you,” and here she half turned and raised a hand to the sole remaining fighter, “and Micha one day visited my home. I’m sure the three of us would have tales to tell all night.” The champion nodded in agreement. Elysia inclined her head again, her voice softening till she was sure only Lucia could hear her. “Truly, you deserve this victory. Any here could vanquish the competition. Only you also had to conquer yourself. If you ever need a spare blade or a steady rider, visit the plains and ask the tribes to take you to the Stormbringer.” :Lucia glanced up at the sun, its magnificence no more than that of any other ordinary day. Yet beauty and splendor awaited those who cast their gaze upon it.. “My path has only grown more clouded, I fear. But if the day comes that it should cross yours...well, I imagine it would be a merry one. I will remember you, Elysia Stormbringer.” Re-lifting her glaive, Elysia turned to scan the arena for Blossom. The war horse, who had remained at the far end, avoiding the flashing, ethereal lights, now loped over, whickering gently. He slowed as he past the Paladin, turning to bump his nose against the former animal, and leaving a nice wad of slobber as a token of affection on her shoulder, before stepping over to his mistress. With a grin and a wave, Elysia smoothly mounted, pridefully determined not to show her exhaustion till she had exited the arena. With a salute, first towards Lucia, then Micha, and then the Energy Pillar as it slowly dispersed with a ripple of current, Elysia turned and rode back through her own gate. It was time to go home.

Apocalypse -> RE: =EC 2015= Grand Finals (11/21/2015 18:37:01)
The three had entered as strangers and combatants, and while perhaps they were still strangers a sense of comradery now bonded them together. As Elysia road past, her black gelding gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, leaving a viscous residue of saliva. It left her skin cold and wet, but it was an act of endearment. It was rare for pets and mounts to give such displays of affection to others than their masters or their close acquaintances. The Paragon of Energy’s trust must have been extraordinary for her mount to have picked up on it so soon. As the Stormbringer rode out, Micha walked off towards her own gate. Elysia may have extended the branch of friendship to her, but it had been Fire’s Chosen who had planted the seed for redemption. As Lucia watched her go, there seemed both too many and too few words shared between them. She wanted to call out, but nothing to say came to mind. Instead, light’s combatant looked on as perhaps the most significant impact on her life left the arena. With the Boon and the Crowning complete and the other competitors gone, it was time to for Lucia to take her leave. Sand sifted around her feet as she walked step by step toward her gate. The audience above and all around stood from their seats and exited in throngs to return to the city. It was in her moments of silence that Lucia realized her day was far from done. Here she was, Lucia Deis, the redeemed paladin and Champion of Light! Many would rush to her side to gain a close-up look of the crowned warrior. Others would seek to get but a touch of her like she was some glorified saint. Lucia was nothing but another wayward soul, and it would do no good for the people to put misplaced belief in her. To be honest, it would have been far simpler if the Lady of Light had whisked her away from Bren so she could begin her journey in peace. Lucia entered through her gate into a dim room and was surprised to find a hooded figure awaiting her. His face was hidden in shadows but she could make out a mischievous smile in the depths of the abyss. “Congratulations, champion! You have become one of a select few. Though I suppose you’ll already be tired of hearing that. And if you are anything like most of the others…” He held out his arms and gave the brown cloth in his hands a snap. It was not until the motion came to its end that Lucia recognized it as a cloak. “…I’ve brought you a little something.” He pulled it to the side and gave it a glance up and down. “Sometimes subtlety is best achieved by simplicity.” The hooded figure turned his smile from the cloak to her. “Well go on. Give it a try!” Once again words failed her. Instead, she coiled the links up and around her forearms before stepping over to the hooded figure. He was tall enough to help her into the cloak without her having to stoop down. Her limbs slipped through the sleeves with ease. The figure smoothed out the shoulders as Lucia fastened it around her neck. “There we go, all snug.” With a flip of his hand, the hood Lucia had failed to notice before swept over her head. He turned her around and smoothed out a couple wrinkles here and there. “Nothing fancy, just a little something to go a long way in helping blend in. The crowds are filled far more by simple folk, so fancy would be more prone to draw attention, after all. Speaking of which,” he said as he pointed a finger to the portal at the end of the room, “that will take you out of one of the common exits. You’ll be among them, but they won’t notice you. Shouldn’t at least.” Perhaps it was the after effects from the Crowning or the fast-talking nature of this mage, but Lucia found herself in a daze. Today had been a rare one on many accounts. Left and right strangers had bestowed kindness upon her. And here was one last one: to let her leave in peace. “I-I do not know what to say. What is your name?” The mage’s smile beamed brighter. “I am known as Tashir, Champion.” “Tashir,” Lucia began as she put a hand on his shoulder, “others may have seen it as a small kindness, but it means the world to me. “ She pulled him into a tight embrace. “Thank you.” Tashir patted her a couple times on the back. “It was nothing. Really. Being a part of a select Society has its perks. Be well in your travels.” The two broke their engagement, each standing silent as if waiting for the other to say something. At last, Lucia swallowed hard and approached the gate, taking one last look at the tall mage to commit his brilliant smile to memory. Then, she stepped through. Lucia squinted as her eyes adjusted from the dim room to the bright daylight. Tucking her head down, she moved through the hustling and bustling of the crowd leaving the colosseum. They were still cheering and jeering after the events of the finals. "Ah, a fine tournament! Even better than last year!" said one man with a bushy beard. "Nah, none of the finalists died this time, 'less you count that golem," replied a young woman clothed in jester attire. "She's right," chimed in a third, a boy who was not quite yet a man. "Not enough blood. You'd think a werewolf would have been more vicious." "True," said the bearded man. "Now that energy bloke from last year - Conrad, Connor? - HE at least had the decency to die a good death." "Tosser fought a bloody armored bear," the jester shot back. "Like he had any choice in the matter." The conversation went back and forth as they argued over the merits and flaws of their favorite competitors in this Elemental Championship and ones from years past. They came up with ideal scenarios bridging elements and years to pit different combatants against one another. When the discussion fell to a duel of champions, the bearded man was adamant that Lucia could have crushed the "metal weasel" but would have been slain by Kriege. The jester voiced her opinion that the fight of light and ice could have gone either way so long as Lucia had taken her werewolf form. The third held the firm belief that the paladin could have defeated the bear but if and only if she did so before the transformation took her. A little girl was the sole supporter of the ferret's victory over the other two champions. Lucia kept quiet, allowing their words to fall over her like a waterfall. She did not know how well she would fare against an armored bear and had no intention of finding out. For all she knew, Kriege was in Bren at this very moment, waiting to get his paws on the newly crowned champion. The crowd dwindled as people left in droves the further they got from the arena until it was only the combatant for light approaching the gate of Bren. Tashir's cloak had worked; none had spared this hooded stranger a second glance on her way out of the city. The last obstacle to her anonymity was the long guard standing watch over the gate. News spread fast in any mass gathering of individuals, but Lucia was confident she had beaten the spread of gossip. She approached the gate with the slightest of springs in her step. The guard must have been a new recruit as he was stationed as far away from the arenas as possible. Lucia guessed more senior members had nabbed the prime locations within and around the colosseum itself, leaving the lesser desired positions for the green boys. This one had been fighting boredom as apparent by the slack grip on his lance and the humming to a childhood tune Lucia recognized as 'Ms. Wox and her Wily Fox'. She approached the guard who took no notice of her presence. "Pardon, but may I ask a favor of you?" "Hmmm?" replied the guard in the automatic fashion one does when caught in a daydream. "Yes! Uh, I mean, yes." He snapped to full attention as if to thwart the embarrassment of having been caught unawares. Lucia could not see much of his face, but suspected he was a few years her junior. Lucia threw the hood back and started to remove her cloak. The flush of red that swept across his face made her think she had overshot the guard's age by a couple years. She would make this quick to minimalize the awkwardness for him. The paladin held out the cloak in her hand. "Here." The guard tilted his head in confusion. Lucia took a deep breath and exhaled. "There are a lot of travelers visiting for the tournament. More likely than not, there will be at least one who has misplaced their cloak and will be in want of another. If you see anyone who looks like they could use a cloak, give them this one." The guard took the simple cloth. "I-I will, I promise." She smiled at him. "You have my gratitude." She turned to walk away. "Pardon me," the guard called out after Lucia had taken a couple of steps. "But have you any news of the Elemental Championships?" There was earnest in his voice. "I've just been stuck out here all day without any word of it." "Oh," Lucia began as she pivoted to face him. She racked her brain to come up with some white lie to cover her tracks. "Well, you see-" Rays of scarlet and gold flaked across her vision before she could finish her sentence. Tangerine and pearl joined the light show that danced before her. "Oh, oh no!" So much for anonymity. Lucia may not have been one to share her deeds, but the Lady of Light would not allow something as trivial as that to prevent her champion from being known. She clamped her hands to her head which, of course, did nothing to hinder the dazzling display. Lucia looked back to see the guard staring with his jaw agape. The cloak slipped from his grasp without any acknowledgement. Could the Lady of Light not have waited until she was out of the city to claim her? "Forget this!" She shouted to the guard. "Forget me!" Lucia pointed to the crumpled piece of fabric on the ground at his feet. "But remember the cloak!" With that she turned and bolted down the road at a full sprint, the Crown marking her like a little sun racing towards the horizon. The Crown only lasted for a precious minute, but Lucia did not stop running for a full mile. At last, the warrior deemed she had gained enough of a head start to give herself a moment's reprieve. Lucia came to a halt with her hands on her knees and was bent over, panting. After a couple exhales, Lucia threw back her head and cried out in laughter. Little bluebirds in a nearby bush scattered at the sound. Her bout of laughter ended as she placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. How long had it been since she had let loose like that? Too long. She had forgotten how good it felt to let down her walls and enjoy the ludicrous nature of what happened around her. Lucia had fought all manners of combatants in the tournament, but it was a bit of glowing that had forced her to turn tail and flee. What was a paladin who was scared of a bit of light? Paladin? Well, yes and no. Not just a paladin, but a lycan as well. The two were one and the same, it had just taken Lucia until today to realize that. The Heavenly Matron had given her this answer in the beginning: Sciens voluntatem redimita loca deae. One translation was "Knowing the Will of the Goddess", but the second was "Knowing the dark places". Like any riddle or mystery, it was not a literal direction to a physical location, but to the affliction inside her. The oath sworn to Micha reflected the same message to understand the darkness within to be in control without. She was not just Lucia the Paladin anymore, not just Lucia the Lycan, but rather Lucia the Nomad. The path she chose would be her own. With a hint of a smile on her face Lucia began to walk again, whistling a tune about an odd seamstress and her mischievous pet fox.

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