=WPC 2022= Field of Time

=WPC 2022= Field of Time (Full Version)

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Chewy905 -> =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/23/2022 12:08:31)
Silence waits in this world between worlds. A place for those lost in nowhere. A place for those trapped between the certainty of death and the freedom of life. A place where light and shadow intersect and dance, never once merging to gray. Time stops, the ticking drawing to a close. Space distorts, twisting about in an endless spiral of nothingness. And Fate gazes on; watching, waiting. Black and white spires stretching forever through a sunless skyline. Blank walls mark the dead ends of twisted alleys, staircases spiral up the sides of buildings and crossroads shift away, seeming to lead at once everywhere and nowhere. The Chequered City stands for those who strayed from their path; For those that sought it out, hoping for something more. For those called by the whims of higher powers and sent drifting. The only movement within is that of the ever-present automatons, at once everyone and no one. Here, the lost will find food. Here, the lost will find rest. For here, the lost will prepare to march away to War. But none will stay. None can ever stay. This is not a home, nor a sanctuary; merely the last safe refuge before those within find their gates, their doors, or simply fade from its streets to their journey beyond. For Pawns belong in one place alone. The Battlefield. A sound echoes through the absolute silence, a single chime that reverberates outwards. Tick- It is joined by another. A second chime that echoes alongside the first, though never quite in-time. Tock. A third, and final chime join, weaving its way between the other two so that the trio ring out across the darkness and causes the realms themselves to shudder. Ti- Color follows sound, thousands of hues of red, twisting crimson, writhing scarlet, roiling as if rivers of living blood, alive as alive could be. -ck. And then: a new world, an entire realm, built upon the dying breath of a machine that yearned for naught but freedom and change before he was rendered motionless. The ticking continued, echoing off the bronze walls of the roofless chamber and reaching the minds of the Pawns. A crack of thunder rang out as a flash of lightning above set the chamber aglow with its light. At the center of the room swayed three pendulums, their repetitive motions driving the ticking ever louder. A crack again, a flash again, and a brilliant white blaze encompassed the pendulums, freezing itself alongside them. A perfect bolt of lightning, pulled from the sky to the ground below, trapped in time itself. A moment of peace, a moment of silence, then the pendulums swung once more, ticked once more. Time resumed, and lightning retreated to the heavens with a deafening crack of thunder. Above each Pawn, a symbol flashed. A five-spoked circle. For some, the starkest of whites, with straight, pristine spokes. For others, the deepest of blacks, spokes curved inwards in a tumultuous spiral. The runes hovered above for a moment, their presence made known to all, before quickly winking out of existence. The ticking grows louder, splitting into thousands of voices that echoed above the noise. “Welcome to the Field of Time. No Good can stop you, no Evil can change you. Prove yourself worthy, Pawns, or perish in stillness.”

Starflame13 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/25/2022 23:31:43)
Oh let me tell a story, About a maiden fair! She wore the night sky in her eyes - And starlight in her hair. As graceful as the twilight, As gorgeous as the dawn! She captivated all who saw her, But left them all forlorn! Oh, li li li, li li li li, li li li li li li! Oh, li li li… She lept, she whirled, to the gasps of the town; this mud-spattered village of little renown. A twist, a twirl, her limbs she pushed on; she kept to her time as she fought off a yawn. Turn fast, turn fast, and don’t let them see - the pain of your heart, how it clipped off your wings. They cheered with applause as Cirra danced and swayed. Coins clattered about her in a tinkling rain. Silver and gold for lodging tonight, for a roof and a bed and a bowl of stew. And then onward tomorrow at the first break of light, in the hopes of outrunning pursuit. And so for the crowd, she spun and she sang. A light-hearted jig, with a simple refrain. Her silks, they swirled, draped loose ‘bout her skin. Though dirtied and torn, they still danced in the wind. Evening drew nearer; chill crept in close. Dusk’s final rays faded with the last of her notes. A smile, a bow, as she gathered the gold - hiding a shiver at the onslaught of cold. You could have stayed, came the incessant thought. It caught in her throat, made her shoulders grow taut. A palace, a kingdom! And her by your side… But the Princess wouldn’t listen, however hard Cirra tried. Disputes and quarrels, blended of anger and fright - until she couldn’t stand it; ran away in the night. I made my choice - she pushed past the regret. Though her soul kept reminding - and yet, and yet… Always remember and never forget how her eyes shone like stars when she danced along. Her hands were your timbrel, her heartbeat your drum - and still you are caught in the beat of her song. A toll - a gong? - broke her from her reverie. She rose with a frown, pushing back at the memories. Stillness, silence, the villagers frozen and tense. A single moment of terrifying suspense. It snapped, shattered; the crowd scattered in alarm. Parents grabbed for their children; others grabbed for their arms. And above the din, the bell clanged yet again. A futile warning of the danger at hand. Then screams - they struck like the snapping of strings. Arrows fell forth about them like rain in the spring. Riders, raiders! charged into the square. Black crests on their shoulders and raised swords in the air. No - the war?! It had traveled that fast?! Cries echoed around her, more bolts whistled past. Go - MOVE! Came the shrill screech of her mind. But terror held fast, fear raced down her spine. How did they reach us, the river’s between us, the army stands guard at the crossing - A horse drew beside her, a soldier turned and eyed her, and Cirra took off and ran without pausing. Dread and panic, they clawed at her throat. The air crackled behind her; the sky filled with smoke. Torches, torpedoes, the weapons of war. Explosions rocked the ground below her; shook her to her core. She flinched, stumbled, fell hard on one knee. Pursuers behind her; Cirra needed to flee. Strange hands gripped her shoulder - she threw back her head. Bones crunched at the contact and she scrambled ahead. Blood drizzled, trickled downwards from her crimson-drenched scalp; the pride-wounded soldier now calling for help. Quick, down an ally, skin stinging and scraped. Her legs shook and trembled as she raced to escape. Harsh words and the thuds of boots followed near. And beyond them the wailing of those stricken by fear. Eyes burned, throat spasmed, the pandemonium spread. She turned a sharp corner - to a dead end ahead. An impasse before her, more soldiers behind her, and walls pressing inwards from either side. Skies filled with smoke and land filling with death and nowhere between she could hide. A laugh, a snarl, from the mouth of the aisle. Cirra faced the attackers, her tongue tasting bile. You’ve fought before, as her hands curled to fists. Though greatly outnumbered, she had to resist. Then a song, a refrain, drifted across the back of her mind. A long-forgotten lesson almost lost to time. A power, forsaken, when she abandoned her heart - but though it hurt to recall it, it could never depart. Born of the heavens and bound to the mortals and forever trapped in the space in between. Remember your teachings and push past your heartache; I lost her I cannot lose me. __________I left her so I could fly free. Listen to the starlight’s song. Always does their light shine strong. Remember how to fly… A word, a prayer, as she turned away from her foes - heartbroken still but not bereft of her hope. A step, then a sprint - but her feet made no sound. No longer did the dancer trod upon the hard ground. Instead she raced on thin wisps of air. Delicate crystals forming a silvery stair. Curses, then arrows, chased after her flight. But with clouds leading each leap she sprang high into the night. Onwards, upwards, the wind rushing by! Cirra couldn’t help but laugh as she danced into the sky. The slaughter, the chaos, it all fell away. Nothing could touch her, nothing could lay claim. Over the fire, away from the cries - with a small twinge of guilt, she gave a last glance behind. And blanched, went pale at how high she had flown. A vast expanse spread beneath her in the light of the moon. High as the mountains and high as the moonrise and higher than ever she’s flown before. A falter, a misstep, a loss of her balance - and with broken cadence she plunged… ___________________________________plummeted… _______________________________________Slammed into the - floor? Uninjured, unbroken, Cirra slowly rose to her feet. She stood entirely alone in the middle of a street. Black. White. A city so stark, a pristine and completely untouched work of art. White. Black. It was all she could see. How had she come here? How could this be? An unknown conurbation, an unrecognizable sky. An absolute silence - no hints to provide. Miles of tiles spread out from her in rows. Cirra kept turning and looking - then suddenly froze. Her garb, once ragged, was somehow transformed. Restored to the livery of a guard’s uniform. And mail atop it, the chains new and pristine. Shades of orchid and lilac that glimmered and gleamed. An outfit forsaken when she abandoned her post. She moved as if to discard it - then saw something approach. Comrades now faceless and companions now voiceless all pointing the way towards an empty throne. Against will and desire the dancer drew closer - and found a sword there embedded in stone. What - How?! I renounced my right to that blade! She had ran from the war, her duty betrayed. She collapsed before it, body wracked with shame. Neither peace nor her Princess remained hers to claim. Wasn’t it worth it? To know I’d survive? And yet… here she was, stranded, miserable - alive. She glanced about her, but the false guards remained still. Bereft of emotion and devoid of their will. Like soldiers, she grimaced. Good soldiers, at that. She hugged her arms tight about her, breath coming too fast. A trick, a trap? But no attacks came her way. She forced air into her lungs, tried to keep panic at bay. No sunshine, no moonlight, yet still the blade gleamed. A quick pinch - but no, this wasn’t a dream. Her banner, in purple, stretched forth from the grip. It fluttered out towards her, made her heart jump and skip. She named you Stardust and called me her starlight and said it was fate that you fit in my hand. Cirra stretched an arm forward, fingers caressed the cool steel, but her soul burned as if touching a brand. __________It burns like when I let go of your hand. “Listen to the music flow. Let its chorus guide you home. I want you by my side…” She flinched, gasped, as the words hit her soul. Cirra sprang to her feet, pulled the blade free from its hold. The guards bowed, their forms peeling apart. And before she could follow, a force seized her heart. Breath, motion, all frozen within time - and though Cirra struggled, she could not defy. Sounds, colors, all started to warp. The entire city twisting to deform and contort. Worlds raced about her and air itself drowned her and Cirra knew nothing but the sword in her palm. Silence then bound her as realms shuddered around her and - then she stepped out into stillness and calm. Tick. Tock. An incessant beat. It clashed with her rhythm, made her dance seem offbeat. Tock. Tick. An echoing note. Forever chasing the first asymptote. Tick. Tock. A triplicate chime. A series of clacking all disagreeing with time. A crack, a crash as lightning flashed against bronze - a bolt held briefly in stasis before retreating above. The timekeepers swung, the heart of this realm. Their constant disagreement enough to overwhelm. Five others, all strangers, encircled the room - Cirra stood amongst them as above thunder boomed. Betwixt person and storm, strange sigils suddenly flashed. One the brightest of white, the other starkest of black. Two matched, three differed, from the one over her head. Voices sounded in thousands - and her heart sank with dread. Prove yourself worthy or perish in stillness - the myriad of speakers about her proclaimed. Whether a pawn or a princess, none could escape bloodshed - in the end, all worlds are the same. Right, an ally - a diminutive creature. A mask on his brow that obscured all his features. Left, a rival - a simply-dressed swordsman, looking about in awe at the abnormal expanse. A debate, a decision, and Cirra’s sword caught the light. The nine rings upon it chimed forth in delight. A pawn, a soldier, she knew how to be. Back to your comrades; blade to your enemy. She gave a quick word, and a high peal rang out. The first ring shattered to release a glittering cloud. A sparkling-black nebula that shimmered and grew - dust thick and heavy to obscure her foe’s view. Breath in, prepare for her last moment of accord. Though she had fled to avoid it, she could fight a war. Quick steps, to the side, and she broke free of the fog. A nod to her ally, though she kept her sword ready to block. A palace of traitors and a field of turncoats - she must never forget the ease it took to betray. Recall all your training and don’t trust another - whatever may happen she will live through today.

ShinyDiamond -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/26/2022 7:00:56)
"Man, haven't had a decent meal in days." Chowing down on a plate of kebobs & a mug of juice is just the thing to perk up Dust's spirits & stomach. He munched down like there was no tomorrow. Whoever came up with that phrase must've been starving for months. These taverns sure have the best food. "Sure I can find another place that tops this, don't you think so?" he asked the fellow beside him, who was recuperating from the smackdown he was given. He could barely respond as he looked at the site before him, all the bodies piled around the tavern reminding him that this guy was bad news. The lone survivor made an attempt to get up & get out of there as fast as possible, the sound of a loud thump from Dust placing his mug on the counter stopping him from moving any further. "Leaving so soon? The afterparty's just begun," he pointed out to him, getting up from his seat to stand, well, crouch face to face with this underling. He examined the man's face, eyeing the damage he left on it from his earlier conversation. Pretty sure his cheek bruise will heal up, that is, if he satisfies his questions. "So... The fact you were all waiting for me here means you've heard about me. About what I am." He gauged the man's reaction to see where his line of questioning led, & it looks like he was on to something when his head jolted up. "I-I don't have a clue what you mean...!" he stuttered, being interrupted with a shush from Dust. "Ah-ah-ah. I don't recommend lying to me. Not unless you wanna end up like your buddies here." He gave the underlng a moment to remember his situation, his eyes darkening to further frighten his prisoner. "Back to me now. Who sent you?" "I-I'm a dead man if I say anything!" This didn't quite satisfy him, but slamming his shoulder against the counter sure does. "Arghh!!" "I guess it's a matter of whether they kill you...or I do," he threatened him firmly, keeping a hold of him by his shoulder. If this guy wanted to survive a little longer, he'd give him answers straight away. His reluctancy to answer did narrow down Dust's thoughts, so another question was in order. "So your employer...did they ever reveal their identity to any of you?" He slightly squeezed his shoulder, pressuring him for answers as he struggled in place. "S-stop...! He never showed us his face. We d-don't even know what he sounds like!" The man panicked inside, wanting nothing more than to get out of there & hide. "But I think you do," Dust corrected him, smirking at this little game he was playing. "Maybe not these bandits you rounded up, but you're not really a bandit. I can tell." He went & dug his free hand into his pocket, taking out some sort of crest on it. "I picked this out from your belongings earlier. This is the reason you're still alive. You're no bandit...you're one of them." The fear in the man's eyes were more apparent than ever. This masked freak was just toying with him, making a fool of himself, adding to the fact his attire didn't match the other bandit's outfits. Dust let go of his shoulder, then shrouded his arm in darkness, directing his now formed claw at his face. "I know this symbol too well. It's what represents you & your cronies group. Having this means you were in the know about me & what they did to me. That also means..." He smashes his head against the counter before he could react. "...you're reponsible for forcing this power on me." He used just enough force so that he remains conscious for his interrogation. "I'm not exactly easy to track. How exactly did you find me?" The man stayed silent for a bit, contemplating his situation, however much he could stay conscious. He's already got a concussion & a bunch of wounds. He's in no state to move freely, his only way out may be to answer his questions. "Guh... We have eyes in many places. It was a matter of where you would be next." He coughed a bit, having trouble keeping his eyes open. "So you thought hiring a group of bandits would be enough to slow me down? I thought you guys were smarter than that." Dust smirked. He found their method of capture laughable. "At the very least I thought you...would..." "Buy a little time...?" Dust's realization as he stood didn't last long as he heard footsteps coming closer to the tavern, followed by screams. He did not like being made a fool of. The man chuckled to himself before a knee to the face knocked his lights out. This is just what he needed, a bleeding ambush! He grabbed what belongings he left on a nearby table before bolting for the doors, meeting with an explosion that hurled him back. The back of his head smacks against the counter as he lands on his keister. That force on his head dealt too much as he was fast losing conscious, the last remaining thing in his eyes were a cult of masked figures piling in. What do you care what I want? Doesn't matter what I want... I'm never getting out of here... I just want... Eyes flick open at the first sign of life, springing to his feet & getting ready to fight for his life as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Something was wrong, however. Dust, still in fighting position, examined his new surrounds, leaving him more confused than angry. These people...that's what they are, right? Then why are they moving in a strange way? Or not moving at all? This is all too strange. Do they not even notice him? "Hey, where am I?" He shouted at the nearest person, if that is what they are. They don't give a response, as if he doesn't exist. "Anybody? I'm talking here!" He shouted with more force. Again, nothing. This was angering him more than just sounding like idiots. He knew too little of this place, or why he was even here. Wasn't he swarmed by a group masked figures? "...Wait, shouldn't I have a scratch on me?" Dust examined his wounds from the explosion he withstood. Oddly enough, he didn't have a scratch on him. Well, save for the scars from his earlier days, but that's another story. This was too strange. One minute he was almost taken captive, the next he's suddenly who knows where with a bunch of strangers in this weird place. He isn't used to this kind of...structure of a city. Too many buildings reminded him too much of his prison, closed walls & closed doors. Best find out what this place is since the current residents don't seem to be too, uhm, compliant or aware. Not really having a clue on what his next move should be, Dust began walking through the road, taking in his surroundings for any leads. He's definitely not used to buildings that tall, or the fact there are so many. The residents here are even stranger. It's like they're moving at the whims of fate. "Don't know where I got the term fate from. Controller? Master?" He groaned. "I swear their better not be a dictator I have to pummel & liberate this place..." Not in his lifetime! If he's gonna start somewhere, might as well stock up on food. Never leave a place you don't live in without it. It's rather difficult to get a grasp on this place, so Dust enters the next building he passes by on a whim. Strangely lucky, there happened to be a few tables & chairs. Even more strange, there already happened to be food on a plate at one of them, as the others remained empty. Dust furrowed his brows at this obvious trap. "This raises even more red flags..." He knew he shouldn't take the bait, but if he's gonna find whoever's behind this, the best thing to do is lure them out by taking in their hospitality. He sat down in front of the food, cautiously looking around as he took a bite off his plate. His taste buds soon overflowed with the juiciest taste of meat. His eyes widened at the sheer delicacy he was partaking in. The very next moment, he started wolfing down everything on his plate, forgetting the whims of any possible danger he was watching out for. He chowed down for several minutes, stuffing any extra meat on sticks & cheese in his bag in between for later consumption. They'll probably get cold, but hey, food's food. By the time his plate was clean, he was already snoring in his chair. Hm. Must've been the stuffing. His very last thought was, "I could cook something better." It didn't take too long for Dust to wake up, he was just taking a breather, is all. Though where is he now is beyond him. Was he out that long? It didn't feel like that many hours. Is this higher power just that powerful. Either way, he does not like being toyed with. What was that sound, anyway? Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Ti- "So annoying." Dust picked his ears out of rudeness for the ticking. "Am I dealing with an all powerful time master or something?" He took in his surroundings in the mean time, noticing this place looked an awful lot like an arena, with five other individuals standing about. Was he just picked out as a gladiator? A test? I thought I was past tests! A crack in the sky interrupted his train of thought, looking up to see a thunderstorm all around. Interesting, but dangerous all the same. There was also those strange pendulums in the center. Dust has seen strange before, but this takes the cake. To add stranger to strange, symbols suddenly popped up above his head, as did on the other five. Some white, some black. Dust has the latter. They vanished just as soon as they appeared, a loud voice following soon after. “Welcome to the Field of Time. No Good can stop you, no Evil can change you. Prove yourself worthy, Pawns, or perish in stillness.” "......" "YOU DID NOT JUST CALL ME A PAWN, OVERGROWN VOICE BOX!!!" Literally everyone could hear his sudden rant. It's one thing to drag him into this so-called arena, but do not call him a pawn. Dust groaned at his disbelief & displeasure at his situation. He's suddenly supposed to fight a bunch of strangers just because? Knew that free food was too good to be true. Whatever, better to figure out this thing than whine like a toddler. Now, if the symbols are anything to go on, their's two others he's supposedly teaming up with. "This is seriously not my day..." The closest person would be the man on the right. He had the same symbol as Dust. He also happens to have only a sword & shield with him... "How exactly did he get picked for this...?" Dust asked himself, a question he soon discarded to focus on his situation. He spotted a cloud of darknes from further ahead, past the sword guy. To the sword guy, he blurted out, "Hey Rags, behind you." Despite being forced into this fiasco, Dust does love a good challenge. Might as well play along before he gets some answers.

Gabby1903 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/27/2022 3:06:44)
Lying down in her cloth bedroll, Vome enjoyed the relative safety of her makeshift camp in a small glade, surrounded by pine trees and tall grass. The dimly lit campfire barely warmed its surroundings, the once vibrant flames fueled by firewood had been replaced by ashes and thin smoke - a reminder that she had been resting, or rather, stalling for longer than she initially planned. Enjoying the silent night, she drank the rest of the water stored in her waterskin and put it back on the small traveling pouch, accidentally touching the parchment attached to her leather belt. The peaceful rest was immediately interrupted by the dreadful feeling of remembering the contents of the message, something she had read dozens of times throughout her trip. Click She unties the parchment and runs her fingers over the wax seal, a radiant moon surrounding double-crossed spears, reminding her of the reason she fights, or rather, the reason she once thought she fought for. Captain Vome, Our scouts confirmed the location of one of the suspects involved in the robbery of multiple coin caravans that came from the countryside. You must travel to Lun’esh to track, interrogate and eliminate the suspect and any opposition you might encounter. Lethal force is not only permitted, it is required. The criminal must be made as an example to whoever violate our sacred laws and make a mockery of the Order. It is also my duty to remind you of your previous failures in the last two manhunts. Surely someone who has put down ravenous wild beasts must not have any issues whatsoever to eliminate ordinary men. Should you fail this task, our Inquisitors will certainly investigate the reports of your missions and if i were in your position, i’d pray to mother Moon begging that they merely judge your failures as a sign of incompetence, and not of apostasy. Do not fail me again. High Executor Charon Dozens of villages rationing food, thousands of malnourished citizens, increasing poverty, basic needs not met and yet… sigh The nobility sees no issue with it, as the Sacrum Leges demands Order in our empire by any means necessary… as long as chaos is not present - all is well. Dying citizens, artificial famines and brutal punishments are fine, as long as everything’s according to plan. Vome rolled the parchment and threw it on the almost extinguished campfire. Now on her feet again, she packs her traveling gear back into the saddlebags of her mare, Rhea. Gazing at the burning letter, she mutters a quick prayer before mounting and patting her horse on its head, murmuring to herself: Hopefully we can reach the village shortly after dawn and pray that this may end with the least amount of bloodshed. Lun’esh was originally just a small village with a tavern and a marketplace, a shelter for travelers and military personnel looking to rest and have a warm meal before leaving again and riding to the neighboring states. The settlement was expanded throughout the decades, becoming a large village housing a couple hundred people after the Empire made its main road an official supply line, increasing the number of travelers, and consequently, bringing more villagers, workers and money. She arrived at her destination after hours of tiring and uneventful riding through the roads of the rural countryside. Leaving Rhea at the stables, Vome walked the main road to the Bailiff’s house, a two-story house with luxury beyond anything she had seen outside the Capital, which was unusual in a rural state. Opening the front door, she was greeted by a silent masked servant wearing brown robes with an hourglass emblem on their chest. The servant led her to the Bailiff’s office, where a hooded figure waited for her. I’m Captain Vome and i must speak to Lun’esh bailiff abou- The missing coin, i presume? The hooded figure responded quickly with an unsettling voice as if it was not quite human. It has already been taken care of - the figure stands up - please follow me, Captain. Another masked servant enters the room, this one with a scale emblem painted on their chest. Vome stands up, towering over both of the servants and resting her hand at the silver shaft of her spear in a threatening stance. No, i demand to know who you are and what happened to the- The hooded figure revealed an amulet, a mesmerizing and yet unsettling round clock. Tick The hard way, then. Dizziness and confusion immediately pierced Vome’s mind as if her thoughts had been clouded by thickest of fogs, her legs had been numb and yet were moving against her will. The figure opened the door next to the office while the servants started muttering an unnerving chant, revealing the Bailiff on the ground, not dead and yet, not alive - simply frozen as if reality had stopped existing for him. On the other side of the room, a golden scale sat at the top of a large marble altar, symbols appeared and disappeared - constantly tipping the scales. Vome mustered any free will she had left and grabbed her spear to lunge at the hooded figure, which simply stood still as the other servants finished their chanting. Tock Silence. After what felt like an eternity, Vome finally managed to regain consciousness - feeling the the weight of her armor and shield dragging her body down as she attempted to stand in the absolute darkness. Tick, Tock, Tick A thunderstorm broke the silent darkness as Vome stood up, looking at the metallic arena under her feet and noticing five beings around her with symbols above their heads that quickly vanished - three white symbols, three black ones. Allies and enemies? Or perhaps… Her train of thought was quickly interrupted by a familiar chanting. Welcome to the Field of Time. No Good can stop you, no Evil can change you. Prove yourself worthy, Pawns, or perish in stillness. A sense of dread took over Vome as she watched the tall humanoid figure on her right, a beautiful and yet terrifying being stood tall. Vome picked up her Aegis and stood guard facing the creature, observing her carefully.

San Robin -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/27/2022 17:15:52)
A lone man, walking on an empty road towards a city that’s not on a map. The purple grass beneath his feet and above him the clear green sky. This man. Did not know anything about colors. And yet he’s a Prism Mancer. A mage that uses colors as his main type of magic. Many may have called him a fool for it. But he would not let that stop him one bit! and he would show them just. how. wrong. they. were. He walked in silence, the comforting weight of his sword on his hip and shield on his back. He knew he may very well be walking towards his death, but he didn’t care. His goal was clear. as clear as the purple ocean water! At long last he arrived at his destination! It was definitely his kind of city. With its black and white buildings. It was here that he had his meal and found boarding for the night. Perhaps for the last time. The next morning he awoke. Picked up his sword and shield and left for the arena. the place where he would prove himself to be a capable mage in front of an audience. The place where, in one way or another, his destiny awaited. A short walk later he found himself at the gates. One last breath outside. One last look at the sky and one last step before everything had to be done in a calculated manner. After this. Every single step could be his last! He walked into the arena. A sense of awe and wonder overcame him as he shook his shield onto his arm and looked around. Some humans but also other peculiar creatures had stepped into the Arena as well. He had heard stories but never expected this kind of magical place. Beau Reign squinted and thought to himself “WOWIE! This sure is a darn impressive place! I can’t wait to do some magics here!” Sigh He may be a mage. But he never was really bright… Anyway. Let’s Go!

Riftrunner -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/27/2022 19:20:19)
Aramyi jolted awake from the sound of thunder, his head smacking against the top of the old hole in an oak he found. stupid tree, stupid thunder, I hate thunder so annoying. Aramyi thinks to himself as he reaches into his chalk bag to dust his fingers. A man of few words, Aramyi says nothing as he draws a circle on the wood and molds himself a crude mask from the oak. He puts on the mask, pulls up his hood and starts to walk in the rain along the forest. He walks in silence when he happens upon a hooded man hobeling down the path to his right. Aramyi puts his head down and keeps quiet as he feels something evil and chaotic about this figure. As they pass each other the man grabs Aramyi's wrist and draws a circle on his forearm. As he struggles he feels a sharp pain in take hold of him, as if his very being was pulled taught through a hole. His body being reshaped and molded into his own being, he screamed as he blacked out the last thing he saw before it all faded into black was a man with short black hair, and glowing brown eyes laughing at him. Next thing Aramyi knows he's waking up in a dark place, with bright flashes in the sky and the ever deafening sound of the thunder. Oh joy, more thunder he thinks to himself. His eyes fixate on the three pendulums in the center of the room. Another booming crack of thunder rang out in the chamber, and then as he was expecting another, instead what he saw was a streak of lightning, frozen in time. He was awestruck at the beauty of a still moment in motionless time, staring at the raw power of the Mother's strike. The next crack of lightning came and shook Aramyi to his core, he jolts, and sees symbols above the heads of those around him. Were they always here? he glances to his left and locks eyes with a woman's knees. Tall, strong, maybe I introduce myself he thinks. As he takes his first step after those haunting words from above he steps towards the potential ally. "Hello! I'm Aramyiiiii" the words flying out of his mouth as he witnesses a cloud of dark black substance shimmering all around her, and out from it she strided, grabbing Aramyi with one hand and effortlessly carrying him off to somewhere, hopefully away from the thunder.

deathlord45 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/27/2022 19:34:08)
black… white… Black… White… BLACK… WHITE! “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” The frustrated, boredom-fueled scream echoed, tearing apart the stagnant sterility that permeated the air in the area. Leciel hated this place she had found herself in: flat, square, irredeemably unimaginative and barren. It was almost as if this city was created solely to be an antithetical existence to her, perhaps another misguided punishment from her parents to keep her from her true duty. Time didn’t seem to progress within this city as Leciel wandered aimlessly, unable to tell a second from a minute, or minute from an hour. Though eventually a sound subtle at first caught her attention: simple, and rhythmic but more importantly progressive. Eyes closed as she skipped after the first hint of change the beautiful goddess had found. Her hair shifted through reds, oranges, and yellows as it bounced along with her momentum towards that oddity that had caught her attention. Her thoughts drifted towards wonder at what could be making such a rhythmic sound within such a bland plane of torment. She also wondered about what or who she would find at the thing that is making that wonderful noise, perhaps it would be fellow divines who agreed with her stance and would help her achieve her goals. Though whoever awaited Leciel at her destination could also be agents of her parents tasked with keeping her trapped in this freakish nightmare city. Her wardens would have to be broken more thoroughly than any others that tried to stand in her way. Eventually the sound had consumed all other sounds outside of her body and even the ones from within as well. Opening her eyes as the feeling beneath her feet changed from featureless stone to harsh cold metal, Leciel took in her surroundings. It was a rather large disc whose center was dominated by massive hanging metronomes and she noted that there were others here with symbols floating overhead, some matched hers while others’ didn’t. Leciel’s attention was grabbed by the sudden bolt of lightning and progression acting strangely. Dad!? Hope at seeing her father blossomed and withered in fragments of seconds as Leciel fully grasped the true form and shape of the bolt. The continued audio and visual assault of boring, artificial and sterile imitations of either mortals or the glorious divinities who ruled from on high, infuriated the long since fallen goddess. They shall suffer agony upon agony without rest or relief. Those that would mock my father and family must only suffer endlessly until the lights in the sky all grow dark. Leciel turned her attention back to the others that existed within this blasphemous space as a voice from nowhere boomed out proclaiming all of them mere pawns and to prove themselves or die. A pleasant and kind smile that twinkled in her eyes spread across her face as she gazed at what the goddess assumed were mortals, for they had obviously nothing to do with this place or those that would commit such heresy in her presence. Yes yes. I shall save my anger and malice for those fools who would mock we who are greater than any other. The mortals shall get only what it is that they deserve. “Prostrate yourselves and grovel before me the goddess of love, hope and peace! or suffer immensely before your final breaths!” A resplendent arrow manifested in her right hand as she knocked it in her bow. Taking aim at the closest mortal, her serene and loving smile remains ever present and unchanging.

Starflame13 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/29/2022 22:00:06)
“War brings no order, just death at our border, why condemn your people to suffer and die?” “Because if we cower, we lose all our power - Cirra they’ll kill us whether we fight or subside!” “How many must die for your pride?” A call, to the side, from a voice pompous and proud. A self-proclaimed goddess in radiance crowned. Kneel? Never! Not to one such as you. No proclaiment of suffering deserved such a tribute. Her ally moved closer, revealed his masks’ grim façade - and behind his back, the celestes’ bow glowed scarlet. Missiles of magic, in their direction now aimed. Cirra pulled him to safety, heard him shout out his name. “Call me Cirra,” she snapped in reply. She shifted her grip, kept Aramyi up high. No weapons, no armor, he’d fall to a single strike. How did he expect to survive in this fight? She turned on her heel, dove back into her cloud. The cover would provide a brief respite from the crowd. “Any ideas?” she hissed, struggling for quiet and calm. She doubted they’d remain undisturbed for long. He needs material for crafting, just what is he asking, the field was empty save for the clock at its heart. Still, if that’s his desire… Cirra hoisted him higher, adjusted her grip and prepared to depart. A dance began as she braced and sprang high. The pair balanced on air as she leapt into the sky. A tick, a tock, she wove her steps through each beat. Maintain your rhythm, stay light on your feet. She rose, with a bound, above the shroud of her fog, the particles just beginning to settle and fall. Before them, the entire expanse glimmered and gleamed. Stormlight glinted off bronze to illuminate the scene. There - to the side! Cirra quickly spun tight, using her momentum to hurl Aramyi into flight. A swivel, a pivot, and she turned her face to her foes. Dust scattered about her in eddies and throes. He’ll need a distraction - the thought raced through her mind. Another step forward, a further twist of her spine. Blade at her fingers, its hilt cool in her hand. It slowly slipped from her grasp as she began to descend. Two enemies - grinning, an unknown duel just beginning, and her closest ally soaring away in the air. A brutal combat unfolding as the timekeepers kept tolling and the storm above masked all the stars with its glare. ____________Still, she sent the unseen watchers a prayer. Let your music guide my way, My dance has wandered far astray, Help me to survive… A twist of her wrist, and the blade shot down towards her foe - till she caught the end of its banner to soften the blow. A word, a command, and a second ring blazed, curtains of fire cutting through the last of the haze. Curling, crackling, the flames spiraled forth, filling the field with a current of warmth. The remnants of stardust ignited in sparks, embers falling about her in cascading arcs. Cinders stung at her leather in pinpricks of pain, and Cirra yanked at the tether to retrieve her blade. Sword grazed at her fingers as it fumbled into her grasp, trickles of crimson seeping into the clasp. Once in her hands, the oppressive heat dissolved. The inferno raged harmlessly against her resolve. Her beat ended its rhythm, her feet touched the floor. She raised the weapon high in preparation once more.

Gabby1903 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/30/2022 11:48:25)
The loud thunderstorm paired with the shouting and fighting behind her made the already disoriented huntress even more perplexed, her mind still processing the events leading up to the complete mayhem she got herself into. What is even happening? Are we fighting just for the sake of fighting? Lowering her shield, she analyzes the creature in front of her. Her smile and calm expression was certainly paradoxical after being threatened with immense suffering for not kneeling. Perhaps she can be reasoned with? I must try, i can’t give in to this madness and indiscriminately attack anyone. she thought to herself. Shouting, Vome tried to grab her attention. HEY, WHO ARE Y- In a second that felt like a millenia, Vome watched as the shimmering arrow, glowing with a red hue was launched from the silver bow and scraped Vome’s left cheek, cutting and drawing blood, landing on the ground behind her. Raising her shield again, Vome rubbed her fingers on the wound smudging her leather gloves with the drops of blood, her shocked expression quickly changed into a determined one as she unsheathed her spear with her left hand. Vome slowly walked towards her, steadily closing the gap between the two combatants.

Riftrunner -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/30/2022 17:35:23)
Cirra, a nice name. this was the only thought he had while he soared in the air. Aramyi landed in a most unflattering position at the edge of Cirra's cloud of dust. Those guys sure have a lot of stuff to fling at us he muttered under his breath. Aramyi got a look on his face as if he had an idea, unfortunately no one could see this behind his expressionless mask. He swiftly reached his hand into the chalk bag on his hips, clapped his hands together in a plume of white smoke and hands covered in chalk he drew a circle in front of him. His heart raced as the ticking and thunder shook the arena. From all around him he heard yelling in between the roars of the sky. As hard as it is Aramyi focused intently on Cirra's knees as he pulled the coarse copper through the circle, it did not feel as easy as the wood he used the other day, but he managed to pull and shape the copper into a foot and a half wide shield that went perfectly to the top of Cirra's knees. Before he had a chance to admire his handiwork he needed protection himself. With his other hand he made a smaller circle crafting himself a shorter shield, coming up exactly at knee height in the shape of a circle. The only notable feature on this was a thin crevice that fit Aramyi's small slingshot perfectly. Good, now I can at least have a chance in this mad clock tower he thought. Cirra almost looked as if she was dancing in between the sparks and flames that her sword slashed through. As he dragged the shield back to her, hiding behind it in case of a blast the only thought running through his mind was that of survival. When he got to her she accepted the shield with delight, with her over him Aramyi crouched behind his makeshift turret and prepared a stone in his sling, aiming at the scarred man now in front of him and let fly his medium projectile. As it soared through the air it veered hard to his left as Aramyi cursed his aim. With a strong grunt he adjusted the sling's clamp, ready to fire true.

San Robin -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/31/2022 19:05:51)
“Welcome to the Field of Time. No Good can stop you, no Evil can change you. Prove yourself worthy, Pawns, or perish in stillness.” The battle began and the pawns on the field started moving all around like pieces on a chessboard. To his right a woman moving gracefully, almost like a dancer. Moving together with a small creature. This was the last thing he saw before a curtain of dust obscured his view. A yell from behind him. Another person, a man, had yelled something at him. But Beau had been too distracted to hear what. From the corner of his eye he saw movement! The lady on his other side had jumped up from the dust together with her… pet? No! Definitely not a pet. She just threw whatever it was full force in another direction. What a strange thing to do! Wait what’s happening now? The feeling of heat like he was standing too close to a furnace. Now he was not an alchemist or anything. But he knew one thing for sure! Fire + strange dusty clouds = BAD NEWS. He knew one more thing… Fire needs 3 things to work: Fuel, Oxygen and Warmth, taking one of those away would stop it. (What he doesn’t mention is that he knew this because of the countless fires he set during his training). Readying his shield Beau focused. “Come on, blue! NOW IS THE TIME!” A second to focus. As dust lit on fire. His studies were taken to the test. The explosion was nearing. Like gambling his life with a coin flip. Heads The Diamond glowed an icy blue and released a cone of magical ice covering the floor and into the dusty explosion that was coming for him! The feeling of the cold reassuring him. But still alert of any enemy movement, shield in front of him. Waiting…

deathlord45 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (1/31/2022 22:45:46)
”HEY, WHO ARE Y- “ Perhaps a warning shot will educate this mortal about their place and the actions they should take in front of me. The bowstring sang as Leciel released the tension and loosed the arrow at the one covered with the symbols of Leciel’s mother’s family. The violent crimson shaft of life grazed the stellar marked human’s cheek, it was the fallen goddess’ favorite color as it was the most prominent one that was born from her true calling. I’ll apologize to my uncle and grandmother once I next see them. I shouldn't be too cruel to one one of their beloved, but hopefully they’ll understand. Leciel’s thoughts and attention snapped right back towards the creature before her as the crest marked one began advancing, ready for combat. She was truly astounded by the audacity of this creature to be wearing the signs of her family, to be in front of Leciel who is beloved above and below, and not only refuse to genuflect but to march into combat. She’s either ignorant or brave. The truth is likely somewhere in the middle, I should enlighten her more directly to that which she has no knowledge of. Though I should give her another chance to stand down as a gesture towards uncle and grandmother. “Mayhaps you are simply unknowing or foolishly defiant against your betters. In goodwill to my family whose sigils you bear; I offer you one last chance to take to your knees in reverence and walk away from this place and this conflict or perish here meaninglessly!” She readied another arrow as she spoke, this one as a harsh bright yellow of the noon day sun.

Starflame13 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/1/2022 22:32:40)
War drew ever nearer, the Princess refused to hear her, and Cirra watched in despair as her dream fell apart. A retort in agitation, a demand to remember her station - and in bitter fury she chose to depart. Tried to ignore the anguish in her heart. Metal screeched to her right; Cirra flinched at the sound - turned to see Aramyi dragging a shield on the ground. So that’s what he meant; it passed from his hands to hers. She gave a smile of thanks, but had no time for more words. At a yell from her foe, she spun quickly about. His own aegis raised high as he continued to shout. Light of azure and cobalt burned bright at her eyes, pouring from an incandescent jewel as blue as the skies. A glacier of frost erupted forth from the stone. It rapidly expanded in a sparkling cone. Ice collided with fire, cold devoured the flames. Blaze struggled and smoldered until no fuel remained. Ash and embers gave way to clouds of billowing smog, the air between them swallowed by a roiling fog. Copper chilled at her fingers, stung her grip on her shield. She tightened her stance, refusing to yield. Quite powerful magic, but you’re far too dramatic, she dug in her heels to withstand the force of the cold. Then the oppressive chill receded, her metal slowly reheated, hands carefully flexed as she readjusted her hold. A curse, from behind, and a missile flew by - her ally ducked back behind her as his shot sailed wide. He grunted, corrected, and Cirra leaped out of his way, turning to dash through the curtains of haze. Swing wide, to the left, she circled to flank, as the out-of-sight pendulums continued to clank, Another step, and a blink, trying to make sense of the scene. Raining cinders and snowflakes and smoke in between. Then - there! From beyond, the second figure drew near. A pale, scarred person with his face in a sneer. Shadows, they shifted, coalesced at his command to form claws of darkness in place of his hands. A flick of his wrist, and a bolt shot at her face. Cirra pulled up her shield; felt it collide with a shake. Inhumanely fast, the man lunged at her ribs. Talons of shadow unfurling to slash, tear, and rip. A quick-bladed parry, a dodged strike (but barely), and Cirra sashayed skywards to avoid the next blow. Without weight or restriction, she twirled fast about him, and sword sang out sweetly to catch the neck of her foe. The head fell with a thud, as from his throat blood, bubbled and burbled and gurgled and spilled. Cirra winced and recoiled as fallen limbs writhed in turmoil - how easy, __________________________________________________how simple, _____________________________________________________how straightforward… To kill. The guard held her arm tight, ignored the cries of her fright, raised his blade high over the child’s hand - “How dare you cause such a scandal, we’ll make you thief an example, now cease fighting so we can - ” “Stop.” *** A brazen Princess stopped the knife. A single word had spared her life. And love began to thrive… Cirra tripped, missed a step, landed hard on the floor. Shield clanged as it fell, her skirts dragged through the gore. She wretched, gagged, as the man slumped and died. Forgotten screams echoed in her ears - was this the cost to survive? The sword in her grip clinked as it shook under her hand. Droplets of scarlet now stained its lavender band. What makes me different, from the foes I once faced? What horrid power dragged me into this place?

Gabby1903 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/2/2022 13:51:05)
I offer you one last chance to take to your knees in reverence and walk away from this place and this conflict or perish here meaninglessly! Furiously at the mere thought of cowardice, Vome screamed. I’ll nev- Her words were interrupted by the eery silence that took over the battlefield, replacing the once loud shouting and clashing of steel of the fighting. Vome slowly turned her head, feeling a dreadful sensation with every second that passed. Her heart sank as she watched one of the combatants lying on the cold metallic floor, blood spilling everywhere as if the very storm above us had showered them with blood. One might have assumed that time stood still, if it wasn’t for the severed head of one of the fighters falling on the floor, decapitated cleanly as if it was paper being cut with scissors. Mere minutes have passed and heads are already, quite literally, rolling. What kind of nightmare have i gotten myself into? At least it was one of the combatants with the opposite symbol as my own… She shakes her head. No, i cannot- i will not let this madness take away my humanity. Now facing the figure in front of her, she spoke. I’m afraid i’ll have to decline your offer, your Highness, but those sigils forbid me of kneeling to anyone except my superiors - and i can’t say i’ve seen anyone... or anything like you before. Vome notices the arrow, now a different color and shining brighter than the one before, and stands still while crouching and keeping her shield close to the ground.

Riftrunner -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/3/2022 17:09:59)
Blood. Viscera. Gore. Aramyi sat stunned after seeing Cirra lob the head off of a man. He saw her shield fall off her arm, too shocked to hear the clang of the copper on the ground, the only thing he could process was the fact he had seen another creature die. Was this the point of this wretched arena? Was he fated to die here like a worm snatched ruthlessly from the ground by the early bird never to see his family again? These thoughts raced through his head as he clamored to get his bearings together. No, no this is a dream or some sort of magic he thought, I refuse to believe this is where I die. Not here. Not yet. Definitely not like this. . He picked up his shield and dashed to his left trying to get a better eye on the entire field. When he was far enough away from the bloodshed and red dots that were now bespeckled on Cirra's garb and the surrounding copper, he dipped his hand into the chalk bag and drew a larger circle; pulling and twisting the rigid metal into a small barricade that was the height of Cirra's knees. With shaking hands Aramyi drew another small circle and molded the metal into 5 copper darts. He felt the fatigue of using the gift, thinking to himself that he only has enough energy to make another 6 circles before his limit. From behind the makeshift barrier he mustered up the courage to put a dart into his sling, with a prayer to the Mother he peered above the slab of metal. To the left was the man who was facing off against Cirra, who seemed wide open, shield on the ground and left bewildered at the act she had committed. Aramyi let out a slow methodical breath as he pulled back on his sling loaded with a copper dart, and aimed at this man, and let it loose. The dart whistled as it flew through the air, dropping from its own weight and landing with a hit on Beau's right lower leg. A hit, thank the Mother Aramyi let out a sigh of relief and loaded another dart behind his cover, as he popped his head out once again pulling his sling back with all his might ready to take another shot. He froze, momentarily, as this man was staring at him now. Eyes off Cirra to Aramyi's delight but now staring directly at him. He rushed to get his next shot off and struck the man below his right knee, seeing him drop to the ground with the injured leg. Aramyi let out a scream of triumph when he saw the man drop, but in his celebratory jump, he failed to see the man was not on a knee just for the pain, but could see a yellow energy glowing from the diamond affixed to the man's shield. Aramyi's eyes widened in disbelief as the man aimed his attack directly at him.

San Robin -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/4/2022 17:18:16)
It wasn’t long before the woman in front of him made her move, in graceful motion she circled- no… it was almost like she soared around like an eagle. Attacking the person behind Beau. The struggle was perilous but not very long. With a jump and a slice of her sword, the battle was decided and the now headless man lay at her feet as a puddle of grey spilled on the floor.. “I have to be carefu-ARGH!” Beau looked down at his leg, a dart sticking out of it. Blood seeping out. Had this been the not-pet? He looked at where it had been before and saw it, standing behind a shield ready to take its next sho-”OW! By the avatars that hurts!” it had already shot him right below his knee! Beau dropped to the floor, sitting on one knee to take the weight of his now-injured leg. He looked at the bolts and pulled them out. A strange substance to make them of. It felt like… copper? Interesting… An idea hatched in his mind. In the past Beau ,in his infinite curiosity (and stupidity), had done experiments on how to deal with lightning or energy magics. Through trial and error he had learned that copper does NOT resist it at all. He readied his shield and started charging. Envision yellow. as his teachers had explained. The shade of grey that was correlated to shocks. To jolts. To bumping your funny bone into the corner of a table! Focus. Think of lightning. Speeding faster than the fastest predator. Shock and pain. FOCUS! Heads The diamond lit up, a bullet of pure energy about to shoot out! But the split second before. He was tackled. The lady, graceful as she usually had been, tackled him, the shot of yellow had fired, but Beau didn’t know where to. He had seen her fight before and would not take his eyes off her now that she was right in front of him. He rolled away from her and got to his feet. Buckling a little as he put the weight on his injured leg. But now was not the time to show weakness, it was life or death. He unsheathed his sword and stared at the lady. Two against one. One in front of him, the other behind. Both with their own skills and tricks. He was in danger. But it wouldn’t be fun otherwise. Would it now?

deathlord45 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/4/2022 20:16:55)
“hehehehehehahahahahHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!” Mirth had grasped Leciel tightly as her body began to convulse as a cacophony of laughter rose from deep within her form. She laughed both at the little warrior’s declaration but also at the most wondrous sound, the soft by heavy thud of something dying. The greatest form of that sound was when her followers or sometimes she herself were able to decimate families mostly because the howls of sorrow were such great accompaniment. “Heheheh… Don’t worry too much. I shall… hehehehe… edify you. Hehehehehehe” I’ll just have to seriously apologize to both uncle and grandmother when I next see them for what I’m about to do. Oh well they’ll realize it was just another needed step in my process to create the best world and perfect future. Snapping her aim onto one of the pendulums nearest to her, Leciel loosed the bright noonday arrow straight into it before she began to charge The prismatic hair seemed to eat the light around it as it was slowly stained back into visceral bloody hue as its owner looked towards her prey who cowered behind a shield. The fallen goddess could feel when it began when her last arrow hit and progression warped. As chronological advancement ceased for that which was free of the grasp of those who did battle, Leciel looked back upon her quarry with cruel glee dancing in her eyes. Three crimson shafts hung in the arrow as their momentum was halted instantly. “Well then!” The first arrow was released aimed just above the top edge of the shield. “One claimed by my family.” The second arrow stalled as it was naturally suspended in the air aimed towards the right edge of the shield. “Tarry no longer! For thine time to revere one who is absolutely your better has cometh!” The final was launched aimed towards the left edge of the shield that hid her enemy. As time began to progress again, Leciel tightened her muscles to run behind her arrows and fully engage this impudent mortal.

Gabby1903 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/6/2022 8:56:21)
Vome braced for impact, firmly grasping her shield with her eyes closed as she expected her opponent’s arrow to hit her. After a few seconds, all she could hear was Leciel's maniacal laughter, followed by the swift sound of her bow launching an arrow. The arrow struck metal with great force, and yet, the shield was unharmed. Is this some sort of trick? The warrior thought to herself, not trusting her own senses. She opened her eyes and noticed a lightning bolt striking the copper floor on the far side of the arena - frozen as if time itself had stopped, but how could that be? For her own body and mind were entirely unaffected. Instinctively, she lowered her shield to get a better look at the battlefield. The arrow had struck the pendulum to her left, adding to the warrior’s confusion. Quickly snapping her gaze to Leciel, she saw one last arrow leaving her bow, with two more seemingly floating around her. In the blink of an eye, she watched the lightning bolt disappear. Realizing what that meant, she tried to lift her right arm to support the weight of the shield, but alas, it was too late to react properly. The projectiles struck the surface of the shield with such force that Vome’s left shoulder was dislocated and the bones on her arm were thoroughly shattered, throwing the warrior to the ground. If the Spear hadn’t enhanced her strength, the attack surely would have ripped her arm off completely. Lying down on the floor, she heard steps coming to her direction, approaching quickly. She stands up, but immediately falls on her knees as every inch of her body hurts due to the impact of the heavy shield falling on top of her. Holding her hands together, she begins a prayer - lighting up her tattoos and sigils brighter with every word coming out of her mouth. A bright golden circle started forming on the ground around her, expanding quickly. After saying the last words of the ritual, she struck the ground with the Aegis - forming a dark and ephemeral bubble around her, leaving only a small outer circle of warm brightness radiating from the ground. Should this be my doom, at least i’ll die fighting. As the maddened goddess approached, Vome limped towards her in a defensive stance.

Starflame13 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/6/2022 22:00:25)
The land overflowed with marauders, its people savagely slaughtered, and it took all of Cirra’s skill to survive. Clothes grew tattered and ragged, lack of food turned her haggard - to live took less strength than to thrive. Wasn’t it worth it if she stayed alive? An exultant scream shattered the course of her thoughts. She shook back to herself - how long had she lost? Triumph - no, terror - rang out ‘cross the plain. Cirra scrambled to her feet, tarnished weapons reclaimed. She turned away from the man lying dead at her side - and breath caught in her throat, her eyes growing wide. The mage knelt on the ground, leg bleeding and torn. Aramyi unprotected before him, fear freezing his form. The shield-gem glowed an aureolin gold. Light rebounded over the copper, growing brilliant and bold. Cirra winced, squinted, pushed herself towards the gleam, The luster coalesced to a bright yellow beam. Her blade sang forth, a smooth strike aimed at her foe - then doubt bubbled up, she flinched away from the blow. I can’t, not again - her shield swung forth in its place. She slammed into the mage as lightning burst just shy of her face. Muscles jerked and spasmed, pain too sharp to fathom, shield fell away as the pair slammed to the floor. She snarled in frustration at the cost of her hesitation. There’s no place for softness in the middle of war! _______…where had she been told that before? A Princess, tense in her embrace. Slight arms wrapped tight about her waist. Beneath a star-filled sky… A clash, a jolt, her heart stuttered and lurched. Its uneven tempo first faltered, then surged. She rolled to her knees, pushed herself fully upright. Beyond her the mage stood with a grin of delight. Limbs ached and throbbed as she tightened her fist- hand convulsed at the motion, sent her sword flying from her grip. She lunged, missed the hilt, panic ruining her aim. It bounced hard between them with an echoing clang. Tick. To - ____Time slowed. Blade froze. The pair, exposed. ____Clocks ceased. A short relief. A fleeting peace. ____Storm paused. The whims of gods. So filled with flaws. ____Cirra roared. _______- ck. Tick. Chimes resumed as a third ring dissolved, its high haunting peal accompanied by a blast of cold. Cirra went reeling at the screeching gale of wind, its frigid fangs biting deep at her skin. She slammed into the floor, heard the dull crunch of bone. Elbow lit up in fire as she suppressed a moan. Frost cooled the fingers still stinging from his bolt, heart finally steadying after one final jolt. A clatter of mail followed close on her fall, the mage beyond also sent flying in the squall. Good. Stay down, she cursed, savage and soft. She tried to push herself up, slipped against the cool frost. Pain lanced like pins as her left arm hit the ground. Cirra swore - then pushed past it; she couldn’t stay down. She straightened her good arm, kept the other tucked tight. Sword came flying back on its tether as she staggered upright. If you live then pain’s fleeting, don’t give it a meaning; scabs cracked on her palm as it closed on the haft. The icy chill faded, its wintry storm now abated, and she turned on her heel to face its aftermath.

Riftrunner -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/7/2022 14:07:13)
Aramyi stood frozen as the mage's attack was ready to fire, preparing for the barrage to come down on him. In anger, Aramyi threw his mask to the ground, the wood splintering across the crimson-stained copper floor. A feeling of dread and acceptance washed over Aramyi, not knowing what elemental damage awaited his body from this magical threat. "DO YOUR WORST YOU VILE MAGE, MANIPULATOR OF THE MOTHER'S ESSENCES'' The voice that came from his mouth was from somewhere visceral, a deep-seated anger at the mage pointing his gleaming gem at him. I accept this, it is my time Aramyi had allowed his fate to come to him, accepting death and preparing to meet his mother, and then to his shock, Cirra appeared as a saving matriarch barreling down upon the elemental mage. Heat, and a quick sharp pain came from his cheek. The attacked had veered slightly to Aramyi's left, the bolt had made contact with his face, he reached up to feel it. No blood he thought, the wound had cauterized from the heat of the lightning. The screeching that came after Cirra using her body as a projectile shook Aramyi back to the battlefield, pulling him from the pain in his face. The jet medallion affixed on Aramyi's head started to shine, with his face and Shornie scar now fully visible in the heat of battle. Gas started to fall from the gem, creating a seal around his face as he heard the voice of his mother in his head, This is the Mother's Breath, use it my son. Aramyi felt gaseous hands reach out and embrace him, although it had no weight, a warm love washed over him, as if his own mother was there guiding him. He pulled his strength together and took in a massive breath. With his newfound mask and power, he sent out two bubbles, one made of pure oxygen, and the other, hydrogen. As the two bubbles were blown in the direction of the mage, Aramyi heard the twang of an arrow released from a bow, then the world was still. The bubbles he blew now sat suspended in the air in front of him, unmoving and unwavering in the heat of battle, as if turned to a stone suspended in air. In this moment Aramyi looked around at the canvas before him; Cirra, fighting against their impromptu foe, sword sitting in the air as if on invisible marionette wires holding it still. Two locked in combat on his right, he could hear his exclamation after time had gone quiet. Three bolts from the bow were let loose, all sitting in the air waiting patiently for the chronological winds to allow them to fly free once more. Aramyi himself could move, but stood still, taking in the weight of the actions around him. Each of them fighting for their lives in the hourglass of the gods, as if they were nothing more than pawns in their petty squabble. The calm was broken by the pendulum chiming again. Arrows whistled through the air, and the bubbles were once again drifting effortlessly towards the mage. Aramyi bent down to draw another circle next to him, pulling and twisting the copper ground to pull out a short sword, the hilt ending at his knee. Aramyi then twisted the tip of the sword into a trident, intent on shoving it through the mage who dared to hurt the woman who protected him. Mustering his courage Aramyi followed behind his bubbles ready to take on the foe.

deathlord45 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/8/2022 19:02:07)
Foolishness or bravery? Or is she neither? Either way the human isn’t a disgrace to either my uncle or grandmother. Leciel had seen each of her three shots hit their marks along the mortal’s shield with enough force to topple the marked amazon. The warrior who had become the goddess’ target faced with the overwhelming difference between the two physically stood again in defiance of the order of the world. It made the divine archer giddy like a child who had just received a long sought gift from their elders. That’s it! That is why one marked and empowered by both of them is here. It’s not a random happenstance but a gift from my uncle and grandmother! I shall have to thank them both profusely later. The deep visceral crimson was tainted by joyous yellow in such measure and totality that the duo melded into gluttonous orange. Leciel almost began bounding as she slung her bow across her chest, so that she could use both hands in her breaking of the amazon’s fighting spirit. “Worry not little one! I have come to the truth of your purpose here, you shall not perish by my hand!” Though the goddess did adjust her trajectory in accordance with the current physical state of the object of her loving and careful ministrations. Angling towards her opposite’s left side Leciel noticed a strange light combined with an umbral bubble on the ground surrounding her prey. I see, she has some tricks. Breaking them down will save me effort at least. Launching herself at the wounded warrior, Leciel aimed her body so that she’d be able to slam into the warrior with her upper arm. All the while staring and smiling at the warrior woman as the goddess felt a tickling feeling as the fringes of her glorious dress began to burn.

San Robin -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/9/2022 14:05:25)
A clash of steel on steel. Beau was in combat with his adversary. The Lady that soared like a bird but struck like a bear. The rush of adrenaline flowed through him and he couldn’t help but smile. “I’m in SO much trouble right now!” He noticed that his yellow spell had hit her as well. The way she moved, while still graceful, had slightly declined. But this was no reason for him to start relaxing. In fact he knew that people would usually get more inventive in situations like these. He looked at his opponent. He saw her make a movement and suddenly her sword flew from her grip. But something went wrong, perhaps an after-effect of yellow? The sword bounced and time stood still… Not in a metaphorical way like many an author had described in tomes or scrolls. It actually stood still. The sword hung in the air mid-bounce. And yet Beau could move. Something about this was wrong… so very wrong. Why is there a look of panic on his opponent’s face?! BLOCK! Beau started to kneel, protecting his face with his shield. But half-way through the motion, time returned. The sword hit the ground and with a strange ringing sound a blast of cold air hit him, blowing him backwards. Soaring through the air he fell backwards, his head bashing on the cold hard floor. Darkness He lay there for a moment. His shield was cold as ice but he couldn’t afford to let go of it. His head spinning as his eyes attempted to focus on what was going on. A ringing in his ears. He looked around and saw the tiny creature, now somehow different from before, approaching with 2… bubbles? “Who brings bubbles to a swordfight?!” he thought to himself. But a part of him knew that in a fight like this. Anything could be a weapon. Better to take care of that before the lady got back up for another attack! He once again held up his shield and focused. Bubbles float but cannot move without wind. He pictured the wind, while colorless it made things move. Like leaves on a tree or a field of grass in a gust, the color linked to this beautiful power was… GREEN! He focused. Green like grass and trees. Sharp as a knife when it‘s against you. A benevolent or destructive force. My head hurts SO much! the shield… so cold. Tails The diamond started glowing. The shield was getting colder somehow… Uh oh… “This isn’t green, is it?” He thought to himself as a blast of blue shot towards the small creature.

Gabby1903 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/10/2022 20:44:35)
The gloomy sphere had greatly dampened the brightness coming from the lightning storm above, bringing a soothing sense of peace to the injured warrior. Peace of mind, however, was not Vome’s main concern - the unexpected volley of arrows had left her completely vulnerable in what may be the worst situation she has ever found herself in. sigh My shield's gone, my vitality's drained, every bone in my arm hurts like hell - and yet i'm being told not to worry, as i won't die by her hands... Giggling, she holds her injured arm and quietly mutters "Heh, i might be losing my sanity as well" Tightly grasping her spear with her right hand, Vome limped to the edge of the bubble and raised her weapon, expecting her opponent’s attack. She, however, underestimated the mad goddess’ boldness until it was too late - with the corner of her eye she saw Leciel’s burning dress, illuminating their surroundings before its flames were extinguished by the bubble’s shadow magic. They locked eyes briefly - Vome’s hopeless expression quickly turned into a frightened one as she saw the deity’s abnormal smile as she charged at full speed at her direction. Vome quickly turned her body and lunged the spear at her assailant but only managed to scrape her shoulder before being shoved and falling to the ground at the sphere’s edge, hitting her head on the ground. As her hair ends briefly crossed over the border between shadow and light, they were burned by her own solar magic. Still feeling dizziness caused by the fall, she uses her spear as a crutch to stand up and desperately look for an escape. Is it… over? If i stay, i won’t make it. If i run, i’ll be severely burned and crippled... Mustering all the courage she had left, Vome closes her eyes and leaps with her spear aimed at the goddess' torso - one last desperate effort to turn the tide of the duel.

Starflame13 -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/10/2022 21:55:07)
Wasn’t it worth it? Wasn’t it worth it? Isn’t it worth it? Is it? Shifting hues caught the corner of her eye - she glanced aside as a pair of bubbles swirled by. Aramyi followed, mask gone from his brow. Tendrils of magic swelled forth from his gleaming jet crown. He’s barely younger than me, Cirra took in the scars on his face. What fate did you suffer to be brought to this place? His magic tugged bronze into the form of a spear, determination filled his gaze as he swiftly drew near. Metal clinked upon metal, their opponent scrambled off the floor. His shield rose upwards, its gem glowing once more. It glimmered, flared, shifted again to bright blue - crystals freezing the air as ice shot forth anew. A quick step to the side - Cirra winced as her arm jostled in pain - but she needn’t have bothered; she wasn’t his aim. Frost slammed into the bubbles on its path towards her friend. Magic slicked over the floor as the frozen orbs began to descend. Cirra seized at the chance, sprang forth into her dance, sword leading her strike to bat a globe at the mage. Aramyi yelled out in panic, his voice suddenly frantic, and Cirra pushed herself skywards in a hasty disengage. A leap, a vault, Cirra rose as fast as she dared - straining to surround herself with safe, empty air. The first sphere struck the ground, where it splintered and cracked - then the other slammed into it to release an earth-shattering blast. Explosive heat slammed into her, wave after wave. It knocked her out of the sky, sent her dance spiraling astray. A scream tore from her throat, her sword wrenched from her grasp. Pain spiked up her arm as she twisted and gasped. Wide skirts, now singed, traced wild sweeps through the sky. Burning cloth filled her nose, bright stars blocked her eyes. Could not tell up, could not tell down - only whistling in her ears as she careened to the ground. She smashed into the mage, a tangled pile of mail and limbs. Shield bruised her ankle, bone crunched under her fist. Bloodied and broken and sore to the bone - why should I keep struggling? - she rolled over, lay prone. ____________I never wanted to die alone… Listen to the music flow. Let its chorus guide you home. She wants me by her side… She kicked, hard, managed to just break away. With a furious snarl, she shoved herself free from the fray. Come on, focus, you have to survive. She could obtain a new future if she just stayed alive. Cirra rose upwards, one leg half-buckled at her weight. She pushed through it - she refused to surrender to fate. Just one thought lingered, as her vision swam and blurred. Death may come again today, but it would not come for her.

Riftrunner -> RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Time (2/11/2022 12:58:43)
Aramyi charged in behind his bubbles as a blue light started gleaming from the gem in the mage's shield. Nowhere to hide from the onslaught of wind and tearing of cold at his face Aramyi pulls his shield up to try and lessen the blow. Trying to freeze me to the bone, this mage must really want me gone. Aramyi attempted to gather his thoughts as he peered above his shield to see Cirra winding up to hit the now frozen bubbles at the mage. Eyes widened in panic as Aramyi screamed out in both shock and worry "CIRRA GET BACK ''. He had no clue if she could hear him scream in the heat of the battle, but with a quick movement Cirra bent down to leap in the air, maybe out of the frying pan, but definitely right in the fire. The bubbles connected creating a blast from the meeting of the gasses, Aramyi attempted to steady his shield only to have it blasted away from his grip and sending his body against the makeshift barrier behind him. His body landed with a resounding "thud" as it crashed into the barrier, cold, unmoving metal met him as he sank to his hands and knees. Move. Aramyi forced his body up taking a shaky position, knees weak and knuckles white from his grip on the trident he willed his feet to move. Staggering over to the mage, inch by inch Aramyi attempted to move, stumbling over himself and using the trident to pull himself along. Aramyi let out a guttural scream, and with his entire body screaming alongside him he rushed towards the mage ready for what lay ahead.

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