RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Fountain Arena


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7/24/2008 17:57:29

Xforce
Member

Hidden behind the folds of his cloak, Almond's lips parted, teeth bared in a predatory grin. Floating forward, he curved his left hand - gently stroking the air before him as though carressing a particularly large, invisible cat. His eyes flicked across the arena for a moment, taking in the events of the past few moments before his gaze locked on the wheeling warhorse and his head dipped in a curt nod, relaying silent commands to his illusion, guiding its movements with ethereal strings.

The knight discarded his lance, letting it fall back into its harness - reaching, instead, for his blade - a wicked looking broadsword, perhaps nine cubits in length. Steam poured from the horse's nostrils, and the light of the sun refracted off his blade as he readed himself for a second charge - momentarily looking so real that even Almond himself would have given pause, had it decided to gallop towards him. The fae-creature's eyes gleamed with an alien, indecipherable emotion, lips twitching as the knight approached the skeleton, the fingers of his right hand curling in a manner one might, perhaps assosciate with excitement, were it manifested in a human being. Then, cocking his head to one side, he plunged his right hand into the chest of the invisible creature he was stroking. The knight's charge never faltered... but something seemed... changed about the makeup of its body. The sun no longer shimmered off its armor in quite the same way, and its arms - held rigidly at its side, as though prepared to deliver the skeleton a fateful slice - began to droop, as though the man they were connected to was being drained of strength. The Horse's head began to droop, then suddenly distended, slowly growing and stretching as though it were made of wet clay. An alien grin still flickering across his features, Almond jerked his arm from the illusory creature's chest, fingers curled as though squeezing an invisible organ.

The illusion shattered, dissolving into a thousand thousand rainbows of light as the power that held it together began to shatter. Great rents appeared in the illusion's form, and swaths of color - as variegated in color as the mind that made them - burst from its wounds like water from a geyser, flooding its immediate surroundings in a spectacular display of power, even as its body crumbled, quite literally falling to pieces. Less spectactular - but perhaps thrice as sinister, were the distinct "plop, plop, plop" noises that sounded as the pieces hit the water... almost as if they contained something solid, hidden within their mass. Grinning, Almond floated forward gesturing with his right hand before inclining his head and bringing his palms together, releasing the magic pent up within the bones of his illusion... for therin lay the key to his victory. Hidden within his illusion were not bones of light... but rather, bones that once adhered to a horse as real as his illusory figure had seemed to be. Glowing yellow runes gleamed across their surface as they sank into the water, crumbling and withering away from in the inside - one after the other, until they were nothing more than a fine powder that quickly began to dissolve into the water around it... thickening it as the water began to expand... changing it, somehow. It would take some time for the change to complete itself, but already he could see firm mounds of clear, rounded, crystal gelatin forming from the water, jiggling and wiggling as they thickened and began to take shape...

< Message edited by Xforce -- 7/24/2008 18:01:23 >

AQ	Post #: 26

7/25/2008 18:02:18

DWeird
Member

The unblinking eye the skeleton threw flown with great accuracy at the ephemeral knight, stared right back at Snur... And then pulled him towards itself. The end result was that both - the lone eyeball in motion and every bony bit of the skeleton's body - were flitting through the air at a speed more than respectable. He noticed with the corner of his eye the destruction the gnome had wrought, and the explosions on top of the hill, but, not being able to control every necessary detail by a single eye, he felt his physical form deteriorating - bone there and a bone here in a position they really should not have, and thus focused on keeping his limbs where they ought to be instead.

It was not a pleasant flight. And it was about to get a lot less pleasant.

The plan was simple - get into the apparition that had just cost him proper use of his feet and wrest control of the bones he had glimpsed within it from whoever was controlling them. Apparently, he needed to make fewer plans.

The flying eye had just pierced the illusion's surface when its creator decided to release it, sending rainbows flying about. Blinding rainbows. All three of the eyes that had just been in the skeletal mage's use were of no use any longer. He could no longer control his flight, and the only reason he was still in the air - not for much longer! - was sheer inertia.

"This was an ambush!" And a very devious one at that, Snur decided - all of his abilities and powers were taken into account, successfully luring him into a trap of his own choosing. Half-expecting another surprise hit to come, he decided to do what he did best. Play dead.

And so, his already mal-aligned frame broke into its constitutive bony parts, slumping into the mass of gelatin with a series of unwholesome *slurps*. The ribcage with the chest stuck in it readily sank to the bottom, tugging most of the white robe with it. Other parts scattered throughout at differing depths depending on their weight, with a lone hand that apparently managed to clutch a single eyeball from the pouch before becoming perched in not too stable a fashion on the very top of the gobs of gelatin. Another hand, still attached to the arm attached to the torso could also be seen finger-deep into the quivering blob, the light emitted by the now two gold rings on it being warped by the jelly, producing a rainbowy glow of its own.

The body of Snur lied motionless, and yet the eye in his hand surveyed a scene that made his head buzz with thoughts.

Up in the crowd of spectators, a few figures from the back of the lines went suddenly missing. The hoodlums he had hired and trained were gathering specimens for him - from this he could only gather than the other competitors were doing something thrilling enough to arouse bloodlust of a noticeable level. Or maybe the crowds were excited due to himself falling into pieces?

A soundless cackle ruffled around in his mind a bit. Being the prime cause of an object of study he could never study. The irony did not escape him... But neither did his Maker's Rule: No death in vain.

For the deaths of those who had just unwittingly became his test subject to retain any sort of meaning, he would have to remain operational for much longer than his foes planned. Well, if there's one thing he learned in the short time in his arena is that plans can backfire all too well.

Now, if only someone was just ignorant enough to approach this pile of bones and goo...

< Message edited by DWeird -- 7/29/2008 16:39:53 >

Post #: 27

7/27/2008 21:20:13

Ryu Viranesh
Member

Seyrinth heard the voice behind him and as quickly as he could, he began to turn around and face him, while at the same time, despite how early it was in the competition, prepared to pull out some of his most advanced ice magic. First of all, he innately activated one of his strongest forming spells as he turns and, as a result, ice was quickly appearing on his forearms and hands and in no time at all they would be comepletely covered. He did not know what his opponent had gained in going behind him and doing nothing, sure, he'd felt a little feeling, but, he thought shrugging it off, it could only be better for him. He took a quick but very deep breath as he prepared to use some of his best, not wanting to give in, no matter what, NO MATTER WHAT, he wanted, no HAD to win this fight.

As Seyrinth completed his turn, he glanced at the ice and knew that it was fully formed, that spell had been of his best, well, he'd have a bit of time after this arena to recharge it if he'd need it, hopefully he would need it. He charged the ice with one of his most destructive battle magics, it was normally used for it's ranged capabilities, but, he couldn't pass up an opportunity to end this fight quickly, he figured that this move would do the job. Seyrinth finished his turn, glaring the thing right in the eyes and yelled as he spread his arms apart, "En Garde beast, I'll make this fight more than worth your while, much more than worth your while.", as he said this, he smashed his fists together, shattering the swords they had become, the shards of ice immediately headed towards their target like hail that had a mind of its own, Seyrinth had aimed most of the shards at the belly and head of the thing, if some got off course, they make strike the chest, he had his hands only slightly out of the clapping position and thus, was on guard as well as he could be, but was a little flustered at releaseing the attack, though not horribly so.

Post #: 28

7/28/2008 15:18:03

The Extinguisher
Member

This was taking much longer than Michael had hoped for. Why couldn't the dwarf just die and be done with it. It isn't like the body would go to waste. It would be put to a much better use than it was before. Feeding and sustaining this creature of evil. Michael needed the energy, and if he was going to last into the finals, he'd need to feed sooner or later. Preferably sooner.

As thoughts of food ran through Michael's head, he turned his attention away from his opponent. Only for a moment. The cold radiating from the dwarf was in the back of his mind, but he paid it no attention. All he could think about was snapping his prey's neck and how wonderful it will feel to finally kill again. A loud shattering and the dwarf's voice brought him back to the combat, but only moments to late. Ice flew at him at speeds sharp ice should not be travelling. Michael swore loudly. This was going to hurt.

He stuck out an arm, the one currently not fused with his blade, and the ice drew nearer. He would have no time to do this, and it was not going to be pleasant. The flesh of his arm bubbled and twisted, like it was trying to escape. A pained but concentrated expression passed through Michael's eyes, as his heavy breathing was almost rhythmic. Then, in a near instant, his arm grew and expanded, covering most of his body. Michael now had a shield, but it was still flesh. Reinforced and compressed flesh, but it would still hurt. Michael let out a gasp of pain as the ice shards struck the shield and embedded themselves into his skin. Blood spilled from each wound, and tainted the water he was standing in.

This was no time to worry about pain though. He could feel agony once the match was over. Wounds would heal, but a chance like this might never come again. This powerful of an attack must have left the dwarf defenseless and prone. And while it had taken most of his energy and strength to block it, he was positive he had enough to counterattack. He raised his shield the best he could, and prepared to charge at the enemy, the shards of ice still embedded into his giant and awkward bludgeoning tool.

Post #: 29

7/28/2008 21:54:52

Ryu Viranesh
Member

Seyrinth was caught off guard for just a moment, and he regretted it, a lot, before he could do anything about it, the strange flesh-shield thing that it had formed crashed into him, pushing him through the water. His own shards of ice that he had created pierced some of the few weak points in his armor, drawing blood and making him wince slightly in pain.
Soon though, Seyrinth had had enough of being handled like some wild beast, he would not stand for it, he would NEVER, EVER, go down this way, no matter what. He suddenly planted his feet into the underwater ground, hard, and attempted to twist one of his knuckles into the shield-thing, hopefully halting it. Regardless, as this happens, he pulls back his other fist and prepares to slam it straight into the shield-thing.

-This fight is not over yet, I still have a couple tricks up my sleeve, though, I should prepare to end this-. With that thought, Seyrinth initiates some slower Ice Forming magic that begins to form the ice on his shoulder spikes, it would take some time to form, but it would be useful when it did. He then quickly returned his focus back to the shield and his fist, feeling that he had drawn his hand back completely, he quickly took one deep breath, calming himself for what was to come.
Now ready to act, he screamed a Dwarven battlecry high into the air and slammed his fist at the shield-thing while releasing the fist and spikes that he had keeping a hold on it before, aiming to not only hurt it, but to slam it's own shield into it's body and embarrass it, showing it that it was in the big leagues now and that this was not a game.

< Message edited by Ryu Viranesh -- 7/28/2008 21:55:18 >

Post #: 30

7/29/2008 0:24:32

dragon
Member

In short time, Vi'in decided that his watching and waiting was over. Any attack made now would be a ghost in chaos, and he was sure his patience had provided him with the upper hand. But death, Vi'in knew, was the potential force that drove victory in games of war such as this, and death was no where in Vi'in close vicinity. Knowing that to reach the finals he would have to prove himself, and to prove himself he had to battle, he began to focus intensely. Everything soon became sharp and defined. All movement seemed slowed, all his thoughts began to process faster. Soon his eyes roamed the terrain in search of the perfect opportunity, and it soon presented itself.

Two participants assumed an aura of anger rooted in basic instinct, and Vi'in's eyes almost processed their blood pumping faster, their teeth grinding upon eachother. He felt their footsteps radiating through the air, absorbing the sound waves around him, stopping the vibrations as they pulsed through his body. If one had been close enough to him, they would've feared they suffered a sudden ailment which had rendered them deaf, for all sound within a foot of his figure died in its fading existence, dying of old age in its sleep, suddenly but without pain.

The wind picked up, almost nonchalant in its coming, a bit of dust disturbed in one area, a rustle of an onlooker's hair in another. But it was not discreet in its howl, and through each crack and crevice in the arena, a slight whistle could be heard periodically, a maniacal laugh of some hungry siren. Regardless, this slight hiss of existence was not enough to intrude on the reality of battle, and so the wind was invisible in its touch, and was only slightly stronger in Vi'in's vicinity. While he acknowledged the wind with a fleeting and almost sinister grin, in recognition of its building power, he made himself retain focus and studied the battle in the distance.

In a curious display of power, the man of ice, noted earlier through the sounds of his harp-like instrument, sent a storm of ice on track to smash into another combatant, who responded in a trick of his own, a creation of a barrier courtesy of his own flesh. Anywhere else, Vi'in would be shocked, but the echoes of his original melody provided not only a look at the figures in the arena but a view of the arena itself, and blood washed over his mind in return, a dreadful harmony to his peaceful music. So he understood the oddities that were bound to occur, recognized the presence of the impossible, almost embraced the brilliant journey soon to be born of chaos. He was still momentarily taken aback by these shows of power, but he knew that pause at such a critical time would spell his demise, so he continued to maintain focus. In a whip of wind that answered a slight wave of his hand, the harp-like instrument jumped from his back into the air, and entered a free fall that placed in gracefully in the grip of Vi'in's hands. Curiously enough, the instrument fell into his hands in a different arrangement then when he had used it earlier. It dropped in perfect position to appear in the form of a bow, with its hundreds of strings radiating towards a center compartment at the front of the structure.

Taking careful aim at current meeting point of the two combatants, his left hand began to dance across the strings, and an eerily rapid yet peaceful noise split the air, and with its initiation, the wind once again grew stronger. The noise seemed to radiate from a quickly moving point, and indeed, it burst from bolts of sound that raced toward the fighting pair. The sounds took little time to reach the pair, racing at the speed of sound, but a curious thing happened in these moments. In their flight, the notes took on physical structures, and the dust that was present in the air formed itself into small projectiles, and the air contained in these pulses of sound shimmered and then seemed to solidify, as the vibrations changed their molecular composition to something whole, to something more tangible than wind, and when these odd projectiles reached the vicinity of the target battle, they had formed into small projectiles racing just under the speed of sound, slower because of their mass, but not enough to slow them down much in their short flight.

If one had been watching Vi'in, this group of around five projectiles was born from the gently plucking of only a dozen of the instrument's strings, in some complex order. On the other hand, one would of have almost no time to comprehend this movement before Vi'in has finished and had taken off in a sprint for the distant battle. The earth beneath his feet seemed to burst billow in every direction, and a trail of dusty air formed in his trail. Soon the air around Vi'in glistened just as it had in the presence of the projectiles of sound, as he used his magic to create an aura that disturbed the air, allowing him to pass through a thinner barrier of matter.

< Message edited by dragon -- 7/29/2008 0:26:22 >

Post #: 31

7/29/2008 14:01:46

xaxtoo
Member

Home sweet home. It had barely been an hour since Karddicj left, yet this mood he's feeling can only be described as joy at once again seeing the darkly earth, something that matched the color of his exterior. Fitting in? Sure, there's less likelihood to be eaten by gigantic mouths when he is mostly part of the background. His pasty white face never really presented a problem before, and it won't again today if bugs were somehow close by. Since finding out the location of Bren, he started a slow campaign claiming this area of the waste from them as per dictated by his new Lord. Those month were one of the few hardest ones he had as an outcast, yet well worth it now that there is no mite of fear crawling in him.

For the first thing Karddicj did of any importance, other than getting up, he looked behind him towards the location of the pillar. Of course it wasn't there anymore, he had phased it into the arena, but what remains had been an area of debate between him and the good doctor who designed the ball. He was half expecting to see a big patch of void. When there was only hard granite of Fountain Arena, he suppressed an itch in his feet to go over there and make a few dents in it to even the score some.

Around Karddicj pillars rose, all very much like the one he had already phased. None of them unfortunately is any sort of tall, just high enough to avoid the big kind of Karddicj harvesting things, not for what Karddicj is planning. Cupping a hand to his mouth and rearing his head, he let out with a mighty gulp of air the words, "Lightning Ship, to me!"

Nearby lightning cackled. Karddicj couldn't tell where it was coming from, nor did he even bother looking to see. He had done a formidable job of hiding the forceship, and he wasn't about to let a curious wandering eye ruin his previous effort by revealing shoddy work. Taking the showing as a sign of acknowledgment from onboard, he took off running west towards the location where the entrance of Fountain should be. His earlier dribbling with the ball in Fountain had shown him the layouts of the arena, and the ball had matched the granite to the black soil here, so he knew exactly where he was headed.

But that dribbling, despite what fun it was, seemed dull compared to his sheer exhilaration of movement now. Running all out, Karddicj was so much faster than before. He went in a straight-line, cutting right through where the high rising steppe should be. With so much speed, he approached pillars in half a heart-beat, yet he ran directly for them anyways to only swerve at the last minute with grinning delight as he passed on by without even being nicked. In a few seconds time, he stopped. He had arrived.

Or Karddicj would have arrived, but where he wanted to go stood a pillar! The thing would have smirked in mockery if it had a face. No lasting harm, he supposed, yet it had dug at him that he didn't get exactly what he wanted. Turning around from the pillar, he took a step forward, then just for the heck of it, sidestepped. The earth knew what he intended as blue lights skimmed along the ground converging towards him. When they're on the verge hitting one another, he was gone.

The first reaction Karddicj had was disgust at once again being ankle deep in water. He shivered slightly and looked around. One look told him all that he needed to know. It was a more chaotic sight than anything he could have anticipated, but at least he phased in close to where he wanted, few meters away from the entrance. The globulin thing nearby with bones sticking out was probably the skeleton that had sent the Halfarf flying. Taking a quick step to the side, he slid in between the blob and the wall, effectively continuing his farce and hiding himself from view.

He didn't fancy jumping in, for he doubted he was going to have neither a jolly nor a grand time at it. He wished he still had the ball. But that was the past, no need for regrets and reflections, the water already gave plenty. Despite his will and desire for continuing, he was just stuck at how.

Suddenly an idea of sorts jumped into his head, not epiphany by any means, but a form of fall back plan in case everything else failed. He'll resort to his favorite activity when he's stumped. Eating! In fact, he'll eat the thing! Solving both problems with a stroke of the spoon, brilliant! It resembled pudding of sorts, a weird holiday concoction no doubt. Reaching into his glowing innards of a rather normal torso once again, he dug around for a very particular thing all the while silently pleading with the secret ministry in charge of his stomach contents.

By the good Lord's grace, the wandering hand passed quickly through sticky bureaucracy to find a firm yet malleable substance. While coaxing it and trying to rub it with his fingers into a firmer handle, Karddicj pulled. The white substance slid out of the slit easily. As he pulled, his other hand started molding, smacking, and smoothening the bits leaving his innards. Soon, it took on shape and hardened. He had intended to make it into a giant spoon, but the thing didn't curve quite right and ended up resembling a spatula, though one decidedly lacking in serious squarish shape.

Taking the giant spoonatula, no spatuloon for syllable conservation, with both hands like a spear he thrust it into the blob. With a faint "foop" the head penetrated the bulby mass. He lifted the thing a little and felt the head getting a little heavier. Shifting his grip, he swung the spatuloon back before choking down on the handle with both hands and stopping it, gel, and small bones, right in front of his mouth.

Suddenly, his face contorted to reveal an giant gaping hole. Letting all the air out of his system, he inhaled. His suction caused a steady stream of gel to flow between his mouth and the spatuloon. He didn't bother to chew, his stomach will just have to store everything in its present condition. Finished with his first spatuloonful, he moved to grab another.

AQ	Post #: 32

7/29/2008 18:24:08

DWeird
Member

Either because he was too menacing or too inconspicious, it took a short while before any competitor took any lasting interest in the blob of gelatin that was now his cozy home. All of his vision managed to clear itself of the blinding aftereffects of the illusion's disruption before anyone would approach him, but he did manage to get a proper enough glimpse of things with his one good eye. Not that there was much to look at - his field of view locked by the eye's unfortunate position in the hand, and distorted by the jelly, all he could see were a half-blurred mass of spectators, a half-blurred arena entrance...

...and a half-blurred creature materialising out of thin air!

This creature of dark and shadows must have been the source of the illusion, and part of the ambush against the skeletal mage. Meaning that the little over-dressed sack of plumpiness of an energy mage he had thrown at this creature may be safe and sound. Well, as long as he was nowhere near - and the sight he was regaining convinced him that he was not - he would deal with his problems as they come.

This one came... at an odd pace. Regardless, it seemed to be a stride that did not regard the skeleton himself as a threat, but rather... treated him and his new globulous confinement as a hiding place? Snur could not help but to laugh, and the quivering jelly joyfully accompanied his silent mirth.

Nevertheless, he eyeballed the strange creature every step of the way. At one moment, when the creature reached into its own chest, he was expecting another trick of some sorts, but what the alien being pulled out simultenously surprised Snur and put him at ease.

"A giant spatula? What is he going to do, eat all of me?"

He was about to laugh again, but apparently, that was the creature's plan. Taking a huge swoop of jelly (and a few superflous bits of bone, including the toe off the skeleton's burnt foot), he ate, or rather inhaled, it at a stupendous speed.

Snur pondered getting eaten by the creature and continuing the fight from inside - but just for a second. The thing was just too damned odd, and the workings of its digestive tract clearly were not affected by the rules of this universe. If the skeletal scholar did not wish to become a dish in this dinner party, he would have to act now.

As the dark creature took another swoop, Snur nervously touched around the dining implement it was using... Success! The spatula, or spoon, or whatever it was, was crafted from bone of some sort. Snur took a fraction of a moment to let dark energies flow into the item, giving it new life... And then giving this life an order - to whack this creature straight in its pale pasty face.

Not bothering to back up the spatuloon's full swing with magic, confident that it would swing its contents at the creature at the very least and whack it somewhat at the very best, dazing it for a moment either way, Snur instead began pouring his energy into the pudding-like material around him, making go forth, forth, forth! - and yet retaining a shape.

In but a few blinks of a hypothetical eye, the master of things no longer living had himself a new limb - an amorphous outgrowth of hardened gelatin, now swung sideways at the queer creature's torso, backed up with all the power the skeleton could muster. It was not the most cunning or the most nimble of attacks - not with the mage's vision obscured, not with him unable to concentrate his sight, not with all of his eyes still half-trapped in the gelatin - but, would it hit, it'd hit hard.

Post #: 33

7/30/2008 16:30:38

xaxtoo
Member

It was a rather odd pudding, Karddicj had to admit. Oh it wasn't the flavour that was off, he simply didn't bother to savour nor to taste it. Those things are reserved for finer foods, sweet things like apples, despite the only one he had today was sour. The pudding was odd, because it bounced on its way down, like it was frolicking to be digested. And it was refreshing! Bastard thing had to make him feel wetter and cooler than he was already.

During his back stroke with the second spatuloonful, life seemed to enter his absurd utensil, giving it a quick jerk, swinging it around in his grip to smack him on the broadside of the head, pudding and all. Luckily, his rather greedy heaping serving dampened the blow, but it still shocked a hastily eating creature resembling a little kid trying to stuff as many sweets in his cheeks before bedtime enough to bring him off his foot, causing him falling into the water with a small splash.

Immediately Karddicj rolled a full circle in the water, which carried off the remaining sticky substance still attached to his face. For being in water, he completed his horizontal pirouette surprisingly fast, which meant he must have landed in a transformed patch. Still clinging to the spatuloon, he felt the utensil losing stiffness in the water until once again resuming its malleable dough-like state.

That attack meant the skeleton had to be alive, it resembled the Halfarf fling way to much to be a coincidence. Oh this bugged Karddicj perhaps not for all the right reasons. Food simply don't attack! Oh sure, spicier ones might occasionally kick on the way down, but no outright assault on the eater. That is just the natural order of things!

If Karddicj had a more predatory nature, he would have known what to do with misbehaving food in an instant. One could argue his hasty manners are simply too vulgar for a proper dinner table. But normally, Karddicj would expect to have servants bring his food, then hunt for the best and juiciest spot with a knife before digging in, and perhaps in the near future, a halfarf will be dancing in the background and playing some jolly dinner music to lighten the whole mood aboard his lightning ship. Instead he picked an option open to him and thought like a Karddicj-eating bug. He pictured himself like a massive harvester with tiny little limbs and a bulging stomach so big and round crawling and dragging the thing around was the only way of movement, which brought about a bout of giggles, suppressed of course. That thought quickly fizzled away leaving only aftertastes of fat man mirth. A moment wasted perhaps, but comedy in the face of danger was never a bad thing, unless it resulted in Karddicj's final moment.

Death wasn't going to be served today, fortunately, yet when jolliness was on the menu, might as well oblige, so Karddicj, still lying on the watery ground, took the bug ooze, the former spatuloon, which was a delicacy of sorts he supposed on this world being the only form in existance, and started sucking it in quite like a long piece of noodle. Unluckily his fat man joy was interrupted, for a long piece of hardened gelatin was swung at him, blindly it seemed, not fast nor very accurate. The simple thing to do was to cut the goo still in his mouth with his teeth for some crafty escape, but separating with his meal was unbearable as a thought, the principle! So, still vigorously sucking, Karddicj rolled once more, in an utterly random direction, too engrossed with his food to care. Aided by the quick transformed earth, he easily avoided the club from the uncouth and unmannered skeleton, who has interrupted two meals already. What gall!

Karddicj's directionless roll continued for a few short seconds. Microseconds before hitting the pudding blob, he finished munching on the sweet ooze that moments before was the eating utensil. And thus, the inevitable had happened, Karddicj finally inadvertently got too greedy and got himself absorbed by food, a refreshing sort of not quite delicious smorgasbord of bones and gelatin that wants to kill him. At least he had enough brains to go with a fullish stomach and a full lung of breath. He will teach his boney ingredients the meaning of the words cooking 101, or something like that, since he really had no idea what cooking constituted of. He was sure dicing is part of the package and oh will he dice the pudding good with some kicks. Maybe.

AQ	Post #: 34

7/31/2008 14:37:58

The Extinguisher
Member

This certainly wasn't going as planned. The dwarf was supposed to die easily, not resist. Michael cursed. The dwarf slammed his fist into Michael's shield, sending him backwards, doubling over. No time to brace himself properly, he had to take the hit. It was time to end this fast... just as soon as he could regain himself. He coughed. Blood. This was taking too much out of him. He needed food, and he needed it fast.

Something pierced his sides. That dwarf must be up to something. But, it wasn't ice. It was something else, that Michael couldn't quite put his finger on. But it meant that dwarf had more tricks than just ice. Michael would have to be careful. He lifted himself up weakly, finding it hard to adjust to his change in centre of gravity. It must have been the shield. He looked over to his opponent, and was shocked. It appeared the dwarf was struck with the same thing he was. It must have been someone else in the arena.

Michael was angry. Not that someone had attacked him, but that someone had dared try and kill the dwarf. This was Michael's kill, it was his to enjoy. No one had the right to take that away from him. He looked around to see what attacked. He noticed a musician looking towards their direction. Everyone else was busy with others. It must had been him. Well, at least some good will come from this. Two kills are better than one. He lifted his sword arm, and noticed it was surprising light. He glanced at it. It was completely transparent. This shadow thing was going to ruin him. It had to do something. He needed to find out what.

Michael concentrated. Old and new wounds reopened, and soon blood was staining the water of the fountain. Michael's tattered clothes shredded open and fell. Two giant bat-like wings grew from his back, fleshy and bleeding. His shadowed arm grew and sharpened, into something that could be called a meat cleaver if one so wished. It was gruesome and deadly, and it was representative of Michael as a whole. The more he shifted, the more repulsive he looked. His once beautiful face was now horrible, despite not having changed.

Breathing and gasping in pain, Michael turned to the musician. He raised his giant weapon, shaking. The added weight, in addition to the searing pain of his wounds and the shifting was messing with is balance. But he couldn't just lie down and die. He needed this. He needed to win. Michael spoke, his voice now raspy and broken. "You. Musician. You wrecked my kill. I'll just have to take you out first then." He rose into the air, and dived. He wasn't sure what his blade would do, but it must do something. He would find out soon enough.

Post #: 35

7/31/2008 16:24:29

Ryu Viranesh
Member

Seyrinth watched as his enemy reeled, quite pleased with himself, this was going very well, very very well, then, he felt the pain in his arm and torso and saw blood flowing from a hole in eachs armor. He hissed in pain for a second as this happened, -Ye Gods Ice Lord, if I win this tournament, consider us even up until this point, all my debt to you combined is equal to this tourney, we clear?-. When he glanced at the thing he saw that it to had been hit, by what he wondered. -But, if I win, and triumph over all of my enemies, I'll serve ye for the rest of me days, if ye select me as yer champion and I don't win, but bah, that's not gonna happen, if by some hellish denial of fate it does, we'll talk about it then an der-. He checked his Ice forming happy to see that it was well on its way, just a little more time.

While Seyrinth was thinking, he saw that his enemy had begun some horrid tranformation into a creature right out of a nightmare, nightmare, that was what he'd call it from now on, made sense, with what it had become. It's arm had become some sort of disturbing cleaver thing that he would avoid getting hit by, make no doubt about that. As he watched, it leaped off of the ground and into the air and headed with what he considered brutal efficiency towards a musician a bit away. -Ah, he must be the one who attacked both of us, but, seems like the Nightmare's dealing with it-. Seyrinth grinned, a decided he would wait to see how this musician responded before going on the offensive himself, of course, the musician was only a secondary target to the Nightmare. He raised his fists and kept on his guard as he went on the defensive for a couple of moments, catching his breath and letting him catch up to himself.

Post #: 36

7/31/2008 17:24:17

dragon
Member

A smirk briefly washed over Vi'in's face, marring his concentrated expression for a moment. The smirk was a result of a set of on-target projectiles, having the desired effect. Damage. It may have lasted longer if he hadn't had to disrupt his running with a clean stop. The dust trail behind him caught up and plowed around him, looking as though he were shedding his very skin. In a way, he was.

Peeling in layers from his body was an air of offensiveness, a breeze of aggression, and in its place he donned a cloak of defensiveness, watching intently as one of his opponents began a horrid transformation. He grimaced as he watched the figure that began to change like a wax figure, as if there was some metamorphosis that took place after the butterfly stage, as if such delicate creatures turned to the nightmares that we faced in our sleep.

Regardless of this analogy that swept over the curves of his brain, Vi'in remained focused with the realization that soon he would have to react, and he would have not a moment to lose. This realization wrapped around him in a tight grip as a chilling voice laced itself through his hair, aggressively entering his ears in some sinister injection that instantaneously caused him to shiver. "You. Musician," called the voice, "You wrecked my kill. I'll just have to take you out first then." A slight snicker arose from Vi'in's being, as he wondered with amazement what sort of concert this beast had attended in which simple musicians formed projectiles from sound.

"My friend, your words are music to my ears. But you mustn't take the spotlight. You must allow me my turn. HEAR MY SYMPHONY ARISE!" All around Vi'in the wind picked up, and his hair began to whip as if they were mad fingers of hell attempting to grasp the edge of the world. Simultaneous with the initiation of flight from the beast, Vi'in's fingers began to dance across the strings of his odd instrument. His movements seemed to justify calling the object a weapon, and these movements caused a slur of notes to blast into the air. They remained melodic in nature, but seemed to form into some chaotic monster as they slowly faded away.

This time, had one been playing close attention to the fingers that strummed the strings, they would have likely noticed a utilization of far more than a dozen notes, more than two. The number continued to expand as the fingers' movements began to encompass more of the bow, and the blur of the hand seemed to bleed out to involve over fifty strings in its wake. All of this happened in moments, and in these precious moments, Vi'in observed the creature as it dove forward from the sky. When the being had covered approximately one fourth of its distance to Vi'in, he let fly a rush of projectiles that appeared as mere flashes of light as they sped toward the flying figure. He didn't want to waste such a valuable attack, so he further propelled them with a gust of wind that seemed to originate from himself. Not waiting a moment more, and so as not to be unprepared to receive the repercussions of a failed attack from his myriad of projectiles, he whipped his weapon over his back and let it clamp to his figure by some invisible means.

The projectiles had been moving at speeds much more intense than before, more powerful and now given more propulsion from wind magic, but Vi'in knew it wasn't over. He was almost positive that even if the projectiles hit, the momentum of the figure and its raged combined would likely send it into him anyways. With quick concentration, a second guess split through the air in the direction of the monster, stronger than before, with the hope of slowing his down slightly. He could only hope it worked to some extent. They nightmare of a being had covered three fourths of the distance now, and its strained and angry expression was now visible in detail.

Yet, there was no time to observe the being as its blade-arm came into reach of Vi'in. He had no time to move at the speed the creature was hurtling at him, and he felt the cleaver penetrate his thin and wind enhanced stone armor, and he grimaced as it continued through his metal armor and lodged itself a couple of inches into his shoulder. It may have gone farther if he was not wearing so much armor, and if, as the blade lodged itself in his shoulder, Vi'in had not withdrawn the wind from that area of his armor and created a sword in the stone situation.

This was only part of the problem as the momentum of the creature carried the two warriors, now attached to some extent, hurtling into the ground, forcing them into a slide across the dirt. Vi'in grimaced with the pain in his shoulder, felt the new weight where he had temporarily taken the wind from its supporting position in the stone. He had only two comforts now. One was the weapon on his back was shielded with wind magic and would not be harmed, and two, the creature was now attached to him, hand to shoulder. As the figures stopped in the dirt, Vi'in didn't hesitate, and threw a hard punch with the hand that was not currently hindered by a heavy and aching shoulder, with the intention of hitting the creature straight in the face.

< Message edited by dragon -- 7/31/2008 22:40:08 >

Post #: 37

7/31/2008 17:51:25

DWeird
Member

His target was definitely more speedy than expected - half-evading the first attack, intended to go straight for his face, and completely dodging the other one... Eating his own weapon, eating implement, whatever it was, as he moved?

It was an odd creature indeed - but one thing Snur learned about it during their short little standoff was that the quality of its appetite was nothing short of outstanding. Thus, when it finished its little pirouettes on the blackened soil and stuffed its face into the gelatin but a few inches away from the skeleton's skull, Snur had hatched a plan - and patted himself on the shoulder for his first accurate prediction of an opponents' move yet - and was already implementing it.

As soon as the creature rolled beneath Snur's new limb of hardened goo, it began arcing back towards the gelatin, creating an unfinished circle closing in over the creature's body... Its head, to be exact. As the creature crammed its face into the jelly, the circle was already close to finished - all it would take now is half a moment for it finish wrapping around his opponent's skull, and then another half a moment for the goo straight in front of its face to harden.

The jelly continued quivering with Snur's silent chuckle - but in a moment, his opponents' head would be trapped, but in a moment, he will become able to begin crushing it, but in a moment this threat would cease.

Two of the skeleton's hands moved through to the side where the struggle would soon start, poking through the surface of the quivering mass only sligthly. As soon as that chitin-covered critter is trapped, these bony fingers would find their way to its soft underbelly by lots, and lots of clawing.

Post #: 38

7/31/2008 19:37:49

Ryu Viranesh
Member

Seyrinth watched the battle between his adversary and the musician unfold with something that resembled glee. Once again he was disgusted by the Nightmare's appearance, but he quickly got over it and braced himself for what was soon to come. He saw the musician begin to play what he believed was an instrument, as he watched bullet-like wind objects were sent flying at the Nightmare, only they didn't seem to slow it down at all as it ended up continuing on its destructive path. -I'm gonna have to time this right if I want to get the job done. This Nightmare has to be ended by me, and only me-. He saw the Nightmare collide with the musician and bring its cleaver down into his shoulder, sending the musician onto the ground and causing him to slide backwards a bit.

Seyrinth checked his Ice forming and was pleased to see that it was done and ready for combat use. He grinned as he reached his hands towards his shoulders and snapped both of his creations off. He had formed two barbed spikes out of ice, and placed one of them in each of his hands, making sure he had a good grip on them. He took a quick, but deep breath once again, settling his nerves and calming himself for what was to come. Suddenly, Seyrinth just began running towards his opponent, no battle cry, no yell, no witty comment, he just ran towards the Nightmare, no, the Abomination, with all his might. He had only rested for a couple of moments, but it would have to be enough, he thought. As soon as he was close enough to pull it off, he pushed down with his legs with all his might and, using the momentum from running, jumped into the air a bit over his opponent. As he came down he held his spikes pointed down as well, so that they would hopefully pierce through the abomination's wings and into its back.

Proofread by qbsuperstar03

Post #: 39

8/1/2008 2:23:35

The Extinguisher
Member

Michael’s wounds stung as the musician’s projectiles cut through the air and his body. But that did not slow his assault. It just added to his fury. Wounds can heal. The humiliation he had suffered here today would not. His blade was steady, he would pierce the interferer’s heart, and even if his shadow blade went right through, he would still find a way to take the kill.

Something in the wind must have changed or those damned projectiles must have done something. Michael’s aim was true, or it would have been had the musician not done something. This was beginning to annoy him further. Would their insults never end? Michael struck the shoulder, and the blade stuck. At least it did something. But the momentum forced the two to slide across the dirt. Michael was dealing pain, and this was important, but it was not lethal. His shield was too large to do much of anything. He needed to get his blade out and go for the kill.

They stopped, and Michael pulled at his nightmarish blade, but it wouldn’t budge. He cursed and turned his attention to the musician, he was at such a close range, and he could surely shift something to attack. But just has soon has he turned his head, a fist came flying through the air and landed right on his nose. More useless bones broken. It only deterred him for a second, but that was one second too late.

Pain shot through Michael’s back, and blood spurted from his mouth. He couldn’t tell what had been done, but he saw the dwarf behind him, and felt a pillar of cold through his wings and back. The dwarf… was still alive. Damn it. I though I finished him off. I could have sworn I did. Why is he still alive. The force of the spikes was enough to rip his blade from the shoulder of the musician. Michael stumbled backwards. He would not let it end like this.

With as much force as he could muster, his hands turned back into hands, bloody and beaten. By all accounts, he should have been dead, having used up more energy that would ever be in him. But something fuelled him. He was angry. He was malice and hatred in humanoid form. If he died today–and he probably will–it would not matter as long as he witnessed the end of his enemy.

Disoriented, wobbly and murderous, he went for the dwarf’s throat. He would end this.

Post #: 40

8/1/2008 9:18:09

dragon
Member

The pain exploded in Vi'in's shoulder as the nightmarish arm was ripped haphazardly from his skin, out of his armor. He was only partially grateful for the icy spikes that were now implanted in the figure's back, seeing as they fueled the rage inside the figure intensely, as if a truckload of coals had been dumped into a fire. And seeing that image in his mind, he identified the sinister lick of the flames that shot forth into the sky, and it was sinister, it was evil, it was fierce beyond the call of war. He saw this now as the desperation of a creature in its final throes.

The stone that had been sliced by the blade and hardened was now flooded with wind, and Vi'in felt a sudden, momentary relief, although a grimace of pain and anger would have to suffice for his celebration. His eyes blurred for a moment, and a surge of dizziness washed over him as he stood. He recovered quickly, yanking his mind from the pain in his gash shoulder. He forgot the anger now, concentrating solely on winning the battle, or not dieing in the least. "Wind Lord of this great and massive realm, who hath blessed me with existence and power, watch my hands appeal to your infinite knowledge, listen as my music is your melody, regardless of which notes I play. We are not master and servant, but master and greater master. Wind is both of our equals. Lets it be the equal of all. So as it can create, let it destroy. Let it destroy my enemy."

A cackle faded as if it had already formed prior to Vi'in lending himself to his mind. And now, the bearer of this mad humor seemed to realize the outside presence and turned her attention to it. Vi'in, how good of you to stop in. You are a smart man, I'm sure you would agree that mercy should be left to the weak. It is your time Vi'in, the Wind Lord has chosen you. Pain on your enemies' parts shall not suffice to please your soul, and I know this, and you know this, and so we must not ignore this truth we are both aware of.

Another voice arose, deep and booming, but as thunder comes with lighting, this storm carried rain for the world to grow. Its message was clear. Are you really willing to leave mercy to the weak? The weak will not practice mercy on other but on themselves, they shall be sweet in their self chastisement, and they shall never hurt another for they cannot. Mercy is only useful in the hands of one in a position to practice its virtues. This is you, Vi'in. But I cannot tell you whether mercy is letting these beings live, or eliminating their current or future misery. That is your choice.

A combination of their two voices formed a harsh and still, infinitely loving sound. Remember Vi'in, we are Monarch, and Monarch knows best.

These messages pierced through Vi'in in a moment, and as soon as they were there, they were gone. He momentarily contemplated how the conversations with Monarch were always one sided, but the humor didn't quite reach him, and so he immediately resumed focus. Nothing on the battlefield had changed in this "time," save his own thinking. Now he knew what to do. He whipped the instrument over his head, with a slight wave of his hand, not losing focus as it slipped into his grasp, coming to rest in the perfect position. He saw the creature intently watching the dwarf, and its thoughts were simple at that point. In his death throes, the creature sought to win the battle still. Vi'in wasted not a moment more in his actions, and immediately the weapon rang out with a bittersweet melody, a melody that was almost calming to the heart, and angry in the soul. The pace of the notes picked up, their variation increasing. He knew these projectiles needed power, not speed. The creature was in a ten foot radius now, even his slowest projectiles would surely do something.

Finally, as the music seemed to be every song sounding at once, its notes a flurry of fists pounding the air in the arena, a single, extremely low note could be heard. A slight shift happened here, discreet and silent, as the weapon's aim moved from the creature to the dwarf. It happened first in Vi'in's mind, as he remembered how the dwarf had struck the creature from the grasp of Vi'in's armor. The only harmony to death, is death, thought Vi'in, and as the creature would die, the dwarf would fall from the creature's wrath. Then, as if the note had been a signal, the song stopped, and at its sudden ending a torrent of large, somewhat slower projectiles flew like rain from a thundercloud, rushing toward the dwarf. The instrument jumped out of Vi'in's hands, and it resumed its position on his back. He was ready for what might come next.

< Message edited by dragon -- 8/1/2008 9:25:20 >

Post #: 41

8/1/2008 11:36:15

xaxtoo
Member

Karddicj vented while he rolled into the pudding. He had to, for what he intended to do is servant's work! He never prepared his food, but might as well start on the cusp of death, because that's certainly the time to learn a new trade and wrestle the gooey pile of mass into submission. Heck, might as well try to be a more rounded Karddicj, learn to cook today, learn to mop tomorrow, and learn to sew next week. These bitter thoughts provided poor accompaniment to the sweet bug ooze he just ate.

Karddicj knew he was desperate to entertain such absurd notions. Luckily his upbringing wasn't so threatened by life or death situations. Nevermind that he was on his last breath of air, nor he was in enemy territory, he was taught to let servants do servant work. What a profound education it was to hold firmly in such time and even shaming him for considering the unthinkable. It jarred his thoughts free, before grabbing a flabby one and slapping him silly with such a display of force, he had to acquiesce to its teachings, perhaps the final lesson: "Use what you know dummy!"

So revelation crashed into Karddicj, rudely abusing him for being weak and stupid. Perhaps he was for wisely sidestepping a previous self-destructive path given up after so much effort. Perhaps it's weak and stupid jump back on that bandwagon. But with the the first step of servantitude looming ever so big, that just might be the only path. So Karddicj prepared himself.

With still most of a breath left, Karddicj looked inwards and all the contents of his stomach opened up to him for purview. Sometimes he get amazed at just how much stuff he has in himself, yet sometimes he was just shocked that it was organized, albeit in a cursory and messy fashion. At least he knew what he wanted, and that desire carried him directly to them, plates in various sizes of small and all elaborately decorated which he didn't take the time to admire when he had gobbled in too much haste to bother separating them with their contents.

His head felt constricted like the goo was squeezing it. Moving a hand to his head, he touched a solid barrier instead. He realized that the critter in the pudding was most likely trying to suffocate him, nay pop his head like a zit. Despite it, he concentrated on that area in his stomach. He can still hear the words in his head, "Let it out son, you wanna look good don't you? You don't need anymore muscle, just concentrate on looking good after scoring a goal." With the one time coach's urgings echoing through his head feeling more and more stuffed, he expunged.

The force of his purge caused Karddicj's body to form an arch anchored by his knees that shifted pushing the ground at one end and his now stuck head at the other. His contortion stretched out the openings running along his chest and abdomen. Through the opening flowed a torrent of digestive juices carrying with it plate after plate, cutting through desert instead of carrying it. Karddicj hoped some would hit solid material and shatter, bet if they dug into the bones with their sharp fragments.

However, the purging wasn't an exact science. Concentrating on one spot only made stuff from there more likely to leave. Karddicj could feel one of his slits blocked by a big thing, likely a hastily eaten and not quite digested piece of food, and each plate that hit it brought pain. The plates that shattered inside him was still caught in the reversing flow of stomach juices caused by the obstruction, creating mini eddys that cut at him from inside before being swept along the main current once again. More pain was caused by an errant knife flying through him leaving with the most direct way of slicing him up. It had half cut through a piece of skin between the slits. The flow threatened to tear that piece off.

Karddicj ignored all that, the pain of an expunge wasn't exactly a new sensation, yet this has never been intentionally done with sharp objects. He also ignored his head too, now throbbing and feeling gigantic, yet still hold out, lucky he had been thickheaded. And it seemed something was scratching and poking right beneath his stomach. It may have been ticklish under a different circumstance, yet along with everything else was ignored. The only thing he focused on was keeping that image of the plate storage area firmly inside his head. Karddicj knew he had more to expel, his limit was a minute straight, but keeping the stream of vile contents going wasn't his problem. His barrage of acid and plates should weaken the skeleton's hold maybe even destroy it completely. Yet his head could give, his breath was running short, and the stomach fluids surrounding him that must have fallen from gravity would destroy his still beautiful skin. The only thing was to hold on long enough through these trials to see his assailant's second death.

AQ	Post #: 42

8/1/2008 14:42:39

Ronin Of Dreams
Still Watching...

Suddenly, out of the blue, or whatever the dominant colour was at the time, multi-coloured sprites appear, hovering down at rapid speeds to choice contestants - they then wiggle into their heads through their ears, making the fighters emit a glow most spectacular from their eyes, ears, mouths, and even noses...

Their bodies growing transparent, and thusly the strange lights taking over everything, making them impossible to see, the light (the contestants?) rise up slowly, finally exploding into a gazillion of little marvelous pieces.

The Lords had made their pick, their chosen champions would proceed to fight the Final battle of the Tournament...

AQ	Post #: 43

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