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RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Spike Arena

 
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8/1/2008 3:18:17   
The Dragon Knight
Member

Every hair on Torrelle's body tingled in anticipation. He was certain that the fearsome foe that had attacked him without warning would continue to press her advantage, especially now that he was nearing the end of his strength. It would be pathetically easy for her at this point, he knew, to finish him off. Bravado and posturing aside, he understood that he simply did not have the power necessary to defeat a creature like her. He had pushed himself to the limits of his own strength, and it would not be long now before it gave out altogether. His eyes darted back and forth across the arena, his senses straining to catch the faintest hint of an ambush. He was ready for her.

Yet she did not appear.

He blinked. Nothing. He blinked again. Still nothing. Battle raged all about him within the arena, and yet there was no sign of the watery apparition. Had she perished in the attempt to crush him beneath the wall? He seriously doubted it. Physical attacks of that sort would be completely ineffective. Had she somehow rendered herself invisible, then. He wondered at that. If she was capable of forming a body and creating flesh tones and clothing, then it was entirely possible that she had disguised herself as another competitor. His gaze swept the entire arena, turning his head from side to side to take in every visible inch. No, that did not seem to be the case either. Everyone was accounted for, and there were no extra bodies.

This was more than slightly puzzling. Why in the name of the Abyss would she suddenly attack him, and then just as suddenly decide to leave him be? Had he really hurt her that much? He considered this carefully for a moment, taking in what he knew as fact. The woman had been involved in a number of battles, and considering the piercing quality of that scream he had heard she must have been wounded severely before ever turning her sights on him. Not to mention the blast of ice that had frozen a good portion of her mass. Perhaps.... just perhaps, she had been weakened enough before fighting him that she had decided enough was enough.

Rising stiffly from his crouch, the Maelstrom of the Western Seas made his way warily around the pillar, on the opposite side from where the fur-clad warrior woman and Roch were battling the strange earth golem. He was alert, never once dropping his guard, as he carefully explored his surroundings for any sign of his most recent adversary.

It was when he finally came full circle to where the wall had landed that he saw it. Lying on the ground at the base of the pillar, in nearly the same spot the heavy-set woman had been trapped, a glint of silver shone. The sunlight glittered on the surface of his lost short sword, setting it afire in a gleaming display. The blade lay, discarded, no worse for the wear, beckoning to him like lost glory. He cautiously approached, stooping down to retrieve the new-found weapon while checking over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't be attacked from behind.

The hilt fit his hand snuggly, just as it always had. He made a few practice swipes with the sword to confirm that it had come to no harm, and then, with a practiced twirl of his fingers, slipped it back into its scabbard.

Here was the real question now: where had that creature disappeared to? She couldn't have simply vanished into thin air. Even if the magic keeping her alive had failed, she would not have simply evaporated. There would have been something left of her to find. He turned away from the pillar, his eyes taking in the heated battle before him. The golem-like creature had created some sort of shield from its own body, and had attacked Roch with its other, blade-like, arm. The amazon-like woman had gone in low, attempting to strike the beast's unprotected gut. He hoped she was successful. As things stood, she and the famous Crusher were likely to have the situation well in hand. He had heard good things about the gruff looking warrior, Roch, and the two seemed to make an excellent pair. Occupied as they were, they would not be his primary concern.

Torrelle took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air and moisture. He focused on the water within his chest, his magic permeating the molecules, then exhaled. As the moisture spread out into the air about him, he listened. The water spoke to him in ways that an ordinary person would never be able to comprehend. The faint vibrations of sound and of movement were transmitted as microscopic ripples through the drops in the air.

Without the threat of immediate attack, he was able to focus his mind on extending the range of this ability. It had already served him well at the beginning of the tournament, when it had announced the shameless attack with the flying knives. Now he polished the technique, broadening the range and fine tuning it to look for an unusual movement of any kind. With some luck he would be able to locate his foe. He didn't care what she was doing, provided she wasn't silently stalking him. Still, he felt safer knowing her exact location.

He listened to his magic. He filtered out the vibrations of the battles that were building to a crescendo about him, focusing harder on the subtle, almost invisible vibrations of something else. Even when he had the approximate location, however, he could see nothing of her. Almost directly in front of him, but moving away, towards the unlikely duo that battled an almost mindless construct. He would have called out a warning, if he had known what to warn them of.
AQ  Post #: 101
8/1/2008 12:27:03   
TormentedDragon
Member

Behind her. His footsteps betrayed him, resounding through the metal of the floor. Instantly, she went on her guard, her body rippling in response to her sudden agitation. She was particularly vulnerable right now, with her mass spread out. If he so chose, he could draw away her mass, or use his power to heat her beyond the point of death, and there would be little she could do, not when she could barely muster the strength to keep herself from separating as she moved.

Yet he did nothing. He breathed, deeply, and his eyes took on a look she knew well. He was concentrating, most likely on a magical power, and that could only bode ill. Every time she had seen that look in an opponent, it had meant pain, and often near death. Yet once again, the ripple of fear proved groundless, as nothing dangerous happened. He simply remained there, still focusing, and presenting himself as a target. And she too weak to take advantage.

It gave her time to look at him. His hair was like Faradh's in color, but there, the similarity ended. He looked like a man at home with the sea, yet without the brutal cast that seemed to mark the sailors that she had seen before. His words from earlier echoed through her memory, and she wondered if perhaps they weren't true. What had she seen of him throughout this? The battle with the furred one showed no... dishonor, as she understood it. He had even laughed. He subjugated water... but had not tried to bind her. He had defended himself, and harmed her, yes, but that was ultimately trivial.

She could not attack. He would find her before long. What was left? What had it been called? Reason? Diplomacy? Always before such things had been used to manipulate, to subjugate. Could, perhaps, they be used in a different way? She halted, mustering the effort to form the shape of her face in the midst of her wide-spread self. If he were to look, her would find her anyway... and for some reason most people found a face easier to talk to. She spoke, again, in that strange, delayed fashion, her words focused on the pirate before her. "You will not bind me?"
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 102
8/1/2008 12:52:24   
The Dragon Knight
Member

The words echoed in his mind, but this time he knew exactly where they came from. Before him, the slightest shimmer on the blood-stained floor showed what had become of his most difficult opponent. She had been defeated, soundly, without doubt. The effort that she had put forth against so many combatants had been truly heroic, but not even a creature of pure magic could withstand such an effort forever.

Torrelle was now faced with a choice. This creature before him had been bound into servitude once, her life held to ransom for the pleasure of another. In her current state, he could do the same, if he should choose. Spread so thin, with so little control left to her, it would be simple to gather her for his own uses, or to simply turn her into mist. Her life, it seemed, was in his very hands at this moment.

A normal man would have considered the possibility, even for just a moment. The power of an elemental at one's beck and call, with abilities that were even more advanced than his own were at present. The possibilities for power and conquest, or of revenge, were endless.

Yes, a lesser man, perhaps. The Pirate Lord of the West, however, had seen his share of torture, of servitude, of undying pain. He knew exactly what this being feared, and having experienced it himself he would never allow such a fate to befall anyone else, let alone be the one responsible for it.

The fear in her voice, the tense anxiety, the almost pleading way she asked him showed, in his mind, that she was willing to call a truce. The swarthy swashbuckler gently lowered himself to one knee leaning on his right forearm, tip of his longsword casually resting against the metal floor off to his left, and gazed deep into the watery eyes of his defeated opponent. He held her gaze for a moment, the look on his own face reflecting a deep sadness that was for both of them. He knew that neither of them had been lucky in life, and he hated that fate had drawn them together as opponents like this. Still, now was the time to right the wrongs that had been committed, to bring some light of hope to the darkness of this personal hell that they shared.

He smiled. His lips curled slightly, the smile warm, forgiving, honest. He spoke, his words sincere, all thought of the battle surrounding him forgotten for the moment. He was an easy target, and in order to show his sincerity to this creature he had purposely dropped his defenses, lowered his guard. It was important that she realize that he had not wanted this anymore than she.

"Of course not. You and I have suffered enough at the hands of others. I would not be able to live with myself if I were to cause you such pain again."

Above the arena, a trio of songbirds dipped and soared, flitting about in playful joy as they chased one another through the vast open spaces of the sky. This time, at least one man could hear their soulful song, and his heart was glad.
AQ  Post #: 103
8/1/2008 14:41:58   
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 #: 104
8/1/2008 17:57:31   
Guardian of Nekops
Member

The glowing sprites also closed in on the massive wall of metal made from Roch's armor, which now lay fallen near the center of the arena. They circled it in their dozens, then dove repeatedly into its solid surface with no effect.

Seconds after the other contestants had vanished int their shower of sparks, the tiny sprites dove under the wall and lifted it by main force, swirling around it and infusing it with their multi-coloured luminescence. As the chunk of steel slowly lost its solidity both metal and magic rose majestically as the contestants had done, exploding at last into a multitude of rainbow-colored shards.

The armor of the Crusher had not been forgotten, and would follow him to the Great Arena...
AQ  Post #: 105
8/1/2008 21:34:57   
Geddesmck
Member
 

The champions had been choosen and Jon was not among them. He sighed and sheathed his sword, turning from Nightly. He walked slowly out of the arena, careful not to aggrivate his wounds or walk too close to any competitors who might still want to fight.

As he left the Spike arena, he felt a small rush of pleasure run through his body. Was it a message from the Earth lord? Had he honoured him that day, even if it was not enough to make him champion? Perhaps. Jon did not know. All Jon knew was that he had learnt much this year and, after having his wounds looked at, he intended to learn more by attending the finals as a spectator.


AQ DF  Post #: 106
8/5/2008 0:51:53   
TormentedDragon
Member

A wave of relief washed through her, accompanied by amazement. Many a mage had she fought against, and they had all either attempted to destroy her or to steal her binding from Faradh. Not one had ever simply decided to let her be, especially not when she was, indeed, so vulnerable. She could give no response, so alien was this to her. And as she stared, frozen in inaction, something most strange occurred. A small, magical being appeared from nowhere, and entered into his ear. His body was transformed into light, and two other sources of similar light caught her attention. The woman in furs and the man in metal, along with the wall she had flipped, disappeared in similar fashion. And she was left, alone, unnoticed, and free.

One of those left within the arena sheathed his sword, and left, slowly. It seemed that whatever the cause of this combat, it had come to an end. Again, relief washed through her. There had been a nagging instinct that to run from this place would have ended badly, the same kind of instinct that accompanied the urge to disobey Faradh... but that had been when she was bound. And now, that feeling was gone. She could leave, and so she did, slipping her way across the metal floor with as much speed as she could muster.

Once out the gate, she sped her way across the ground, ignoring the crowds save for whatever threat they might possess, seeking a safe haven. There was, indeed, water here, and multiple sources presented them to her. One she avoided, for it lay past a gate similar to that she had just left. Instead, she found her way to the city's spring, slipping into its water with a sigh of relief. No longer needing her combat mass, she reduced her self to little more than a droplet, and focused her attention on the world around her.

It was not long before she gathered what she had not understood before. This was a tournament, a Championship, where the entrants competed for the favor of the Lords. That, perhaps, was what had freed her. In entering the arena, she had been bound to the purpose of Water, and Faradh's binding could not remain. Yet the pirate had been chosen as Water's Champion, and not her. There was mixed regret and relief in this... regret that she had not been judged worthy, and for the power that would have come to her. Relief, however, for she was not bound in any way, now, and need not fight unless she so chose.

Her options were many, now. She could leave here, leave this world entirely, and return to what she had been before Faradh had... what had the pirate called it? Enslaved? Slavery? The words sounded ugly, the concepts behind them abhorrent to her, who had known nothing but the mage's domination for years. There was Faradh, though. He would be furious at her escape, and would without doubt hunt her down. He would not succeed in binding her again, she was too wise for that now. But the idea of letting him be felt wrong to her. Faradh... Faradh would have to die, killed as he had forced her to kill so many. That, seemed right.

Yet her thoughts kept returning to the man who had let her go. He had been enslaved (and yes, that word fit well), so he had said. Could his word be trusted? Just why was he here? Why did he seek Water's favor? These questions ran through her mind, and with them came something else, something almost new. Something she recognized she had learned while bound. It was an idea. Perhaps this man could be... of use. It would not hurt to linger, and to watch.

She was rested now, and so she expanded, choosing a bit more mass than strictly necessary, just in case. Up from the spring she rose, walking out of it in human form, yet not as she had appeared in the arena. That form Faradh would recognize, for he had chosen it for her. This form was taller, its colour different, yet still enticing. Shorter hair, this time, kept away from the face, and red, not the iridescent silver it had appeared before. Green eyes, not blue, with a longer face, and slightly stronger features. And she wore a dress, now, rather than a wrap or a silver suit, a simple affair appropriate to a commoner woman.

She still drew glances, but these were due to the inherent beauty of her form, and the fluid grace with which she moved. She spotted a few of Faradh's lackeys, their faces worried, and smiled when they looked at her and noticed nothing. They would live, for now. She had no desire to kill. Rather, she found her way to the stands, charming her way into a spot with a good vantage point, and settled in to watch. Already the champions were beginning to fight, and great powers related to their respective elements were being shown. Energy drew her attention for a moment, and a shudder went through her as she recognized the danger in such a being. But the pirate was her main concern, and on him her eyes locked. How would he fight? Would he survive? Would he win? She would see.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 107
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