Home  | Login  | Register  | Help  | Play 

=EC 2022= Spectators Thread

Logged in as: Guest
  Printable Version
All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> The Championships >> =EC 2022= Spectators Thread
Forum Login
Message << Older Topic   Newer Topic >>
7/17/2022 11:04:43   

Tales of feats and exploits, triumphs and defeats, miraculous survivals and horrific massacres; the legends of the Elemental Championships echoed far and wide. They reached out beyond those desperate enough to enter and captivated the attention of all others. Dreamers, doers, recorders, observers - countless curious minds streamed into the city of Bren to witness the event.

Wooden stands, staunch and sound despite obvious marks of age, grew to hold the crowds spilling in beneath the sunlight. No matter a persons’ path or patronage, no matter their appearance or raiments, all pressed close together to better see the coming spectacles.

The stands packed, the combatants prepared, the challenge issued.

The mechanisms of Factory. The wonders of Sky. The terrors of Cellar. The magics of Twilight. The bloodbaths of Spike. The mysterious of Fountain. The rumblings of Forge.

The Battle upon the Crimson Sands.

What sights and stories await our spectators today?

AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 1
7/29/2022 19:45:58   

As she had a mere two years before, Sledaristan stares down at the city before her. She turns to her closest companion, speaking in what the Shtaratahn would call ‘The Old Tongue’.

“Stafa, skel skatan?” (Sorceress, are you thinking what I’m thinking?)

“Yes, Stalos. They’re trying a different tactic.”

Sledaristan breathed in a large lungful of air and expelled it in an exasperated groan.

“But why now? What’s changed? They’ve been happy to hound me across millenia, even when I spent a couple centuries being ‘dead’ and now all of a sudden they up and stop to come to the Championships. Obviously they have to have someone competing.”

“But they’re the Shtaratahn.” Stafa says, frowning. “They’d never send one of their own to compete. For all the hatred they direct at pretty much anyone about anything they place a lot of value on their own people.”

“So maybe they don’t have a Shtaratahn competing, but someone else.”

Sledaristan turned to face Keskie, frowning.

“Someone else, who they’ve trained well and good to hate ‘The Monster’? That’s a distressing thought.”

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

“Well, this is something.”

Sledaristan glanced at her companions, a lopsided grin plastered across her face.

“I’m glad you find this amusing.” Zperan muttered darkly.

Sledaristan looked down into the arena.

“Two who could be related to the Shtaratahn.”

“It could be that they’re not and they’re here to deal with them.”

“Nah, they’d have sent others if that was the case. This lot are hunting me, so their reason for being here is related to that.”

The Chief Hunter’s eyes flick up and lock with her own. She offers him a grin. He frowns and talks to the Shtaratahn accompanying him.

“We will see what we will see.”
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 2
8/17/2022 20:22:28   

“WINDCUTTER!” Windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter, windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter. “Windcutter?”

Windcutter windcutter - windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter, windcutter windcutter, windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter. Windcutter.

“Windcutter.” Windcutter, windcutter windcutter. “Windcutter windcutter windcutter.”

Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter, windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter: windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter.

Windcutter windcutter windcutter.


Windcutter - windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter, windcutter windcutter, windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter.


< Message edited by Apocalypse -- 8/21/2022 16:00:21 >
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 3
8/21/2022 11:51:59   

Among the colourful crowds of the championship, a shrouded person is both hidden well and in a constant danger of being found out.

The amount of people was dizzying. Milo moved in a bit of a haze, sensing so many energies and lives glittering around him. And though it was a sensation hidden deep, with this many people it pressed on his mind regardless.

Returning to the site of one’s defeat suddenly didn’t sound like the best idea.

Who would’ve thought?

Moving the white hood off his face just enough to see better, he noticed an alleyway that quite a few folks seemed to avoid, most of them already entranced by the arena’s subtle pull. It was strange not feeling it today. Or, perhaps, not with such power. It was… freeing.

Though as he was about to disappear, he noticed a stand just by the entrance. Well, he was already headed into the Grand Arena anyway. If he were to suffer that amount of people, he could at least cheer on a few of the unfortunate from the stands. From safety. Not that he had much of an inkling of those that fought, but he’d learn soon enough. A few, though, he caught the stories of already, mostly from the medics he hung around for those past few weeks, running errands. So without much thought, he asked for flags of the ones that did catch his attention. He reached out for the purchased items with a pale arm, and for a moment the shopkeeper paused. A tattoo adorned Milo, a mighty dragon coiling around his pale forearm, done in ink that appeared black at first, yet glinted with thundering and cold blue when it moved, like an iridescent wing or a precious stone. It exuded a strange, electrifying chill on his skin.

How much elemental magic do you plan to infect yourself with?

The mind is not a constant, neither is the soul. For us, even the body is in a flow.

Hey, he managed to rhyme that. Dismissing the thought, he gave the stunned shopkeeper a small wink and smile.

"Excuse me."

"Right! Sorry! I got distracted! Reallynicedragonbythewayyyyyy-" Two flags landed in front of him. Pitch black, with a silvry horse. Pure white, with the gold embroidery of a four-armed creature. But the smile ran into a hurdle, a quiet, nervous pause as the shopkeeper lady squinted, and it became painstakingly obvious she was trying to figure out why the man under the hood was so familiar.

He shouldn’t have spoken. Oh dear. Why did he-

"Are you…?" Her voice brimmed with thinly veiled excitement as her eyes began, uh, glittering. Literally. Was this lady a light mage? That could explain why the flags he was hurriedly stuffing into his cloak shimmered with colour.

With a finger to his lips he silenced her. He took a careful glance to one side and another, and despite the chatter and droves of folk around them, nobody seemed to notice her little yelp. So, softly, he nodded, and watched her eyes light up like the noonday sun.

Some days he had to wonder if all of those folks whose magic set their eyes aglow could really still see. It didn’t make sense for them to. But magic liked to break every rule biology set down, and after years of working with both, the most he could do to complain was a deep sigh.

"Hold on, please, I’ve got something for you!"

"No, no, please don’t bother-" But she was already at the back of the store, leaving Milo alone to ponder yet another possible mess he got himself into, and also the rest of the shopper’s merch he didn’t pay attention to. Like the parasols the lady was currently rummaging around in, without a doubt enchanted to disperse or absorb light in tune with the shopkeep’s (supposed) strengths. He’d wished he had something like that back when the winds of combat tore away his hood. The sun that day was merciless.

"Here!" She nearly slammed down a parasol before him, making him wince a little bit. Ma’am. Lady. I’m trying to stay undercover here.

"I can’t." He whispered, though he did gingerly pick up the item. It looked fairly simple at first, with red fabric and light, but pretty patterns. Milo gave the shopkeeper an eye. It looked like she was waiting for him to do something.

Maybe… Taking the parasol over his person, he opened it, and…

Oh. And suddenly, as he became veiled in darkness and starlight, he felt things slowly clicking into place. In awe, the mage looked up to see that the parasol had a whole night sky trapped underneath, impossibly deep with the darkest blue he had ever seen.

"I… this is beautiful. How much is it?"

"Ohnono! Just take it! Well I mean, would be really helpful if you could uh, uh, wear it? Promote the brand?"

He didn’t look very impressed. With the idea, that is. With the parasol and skill? Very. Slight irritation crept into his voice.

"What is your name?"


He almost gave her a jolt, leaning in sharp, hands nearly slamming against the counter.

"Listen, Madeline. I’ve already got enough trouble from people thinking I save candy stands from dragons."

"That was you?" Madeline blinked.

Damn it. And just like that, the whole attempted scary display dissolved into awkward voice jumps.

"Uh, maybe. But- Look. I… I don’t enjoy attention too much. So, please…"

"The uh! The parasol! Protects against prying gazes!"

"…That… sounds like a lie," Milo deadpanned, not noticing that something else crept into his voice. The feathers lining the man’s face – were they darker and fluffier the more the parasol’s
darkness touched on them? A second voice, almost like ideas rather than words, accompanied his own.

Lying? Madeline, are you lying?

You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?

With a slightly amused eyeroll, the mage took the shopkeeper’s hands into his. He didn’t mind the flush she had, trying to not notice, though it did ping at the back of his mind like all blood did. Pitch black and red flashed through his eyes, feathers fluttering.

He let go, hurriedly snatched the parasol, checked the hood over his head, and dissappeared back into the moving crowd. Madeline blinked. In her open palms glistened a ruby, the crystal’s black and red eating surrounding light up instead of reflecting it like any sensible gem would.

Finally having made it to the alleyway, Milo exhaled, back against the wall.

What was that?

Stupid, that’s what that was.

In his hands rested the beautiful parasol. Closed at the moment. He shook his head and walked. Surely the arena wouldn’t mind if he took a small detour through the less crowded pathways. Not as many voices, less headaches, less yelli-




Windcutter, Windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter, windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter, windcutter.


"Windcutter, windcutter! Windcutter windcutter windcutter!" Windcutter. Windcutter, windcutter – windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter windcutter windcutter windcutter, windcutter. Windcutter windcutter!

Windcutter windcutter?


Milo blinked, rubbing his temples. How did he end up in the Grand Arena stands again? There was a kobold, a very loud kobold with a sword, and windcutter windcutter-

NOPE. Some things were best not thought about too hard.

He leaned over and out, regarding the rising pillars and booming voices. Even still, even months later, his heart rose in its beat, skin crawling.

I’m safe here, I’m not fighting.

Milo worked to get a deep breath or two in through the heated, still air. Not a paragon, he tried to tell himself, through something about those words felt untrue and wrong.
Darkness fell over the Arena. And though the dragon on his arm swirled and danced as Ice and Energy were called, it was now that he felt something else, something different, the shadows seemingly lagging behind as they fell over him.

Always a paragon.

And suddenly, his presence at the event was not stressful, suddenly, it was calming. Calling fire. With the last of the announcements and first blows of combat called, Milo called out with excitement, feathers joining in, a flag of Light in one, Darkness in other.

"Sonder! Exudation! GIVE THEM HELL!"

< Message edited by Sylphe -- 8/21/2022 15:16:24 >
DF  Post #: 4
8/24/2022 18:56:31   

Turns out being a Paragon in the Elemental Championships-- even if xe’d lost-- came with quite a few business perks.

“Half off, just for little old me? That’s too kind-- how could I say no!” Pietersite flipped xyr coins towards the shopkeep with a bright chirp in xyr voice. The Wind caught the coins as they turned, giving them a spin and propelling them forwards to land behind the counter. The Nilch’i grinned sheepishly and reached out to wrap xyr hands around xyr purchase-- a small obsidian gem apparently based off of one of this year’s competitors. “Sorry about that; think I overcompensated a bit with that one!” The Nilch’i’s tall, poofy red hair, a trait from their dwarven side, bounced with xem as xe left the storefront and continued onwards towards the Grand Arena. Xe held xyr head up proudly, boasting an all-new outfit themed just for the Championships. Emblazoned on xyr purple and yellow tie-dye blouse (which had been free-- perks!!) was the phrase “The Wind Lord took my breath away” with a little heart made to look like wind gusts. Xe tucked the small obsidian gently into one of xyr many pockets that hung from a chaotic-looking series of belts around xyr chest, waist, and legs. And the swirling, silver and amethyst earrings and necklace were xyr newest creations. Who would’ve thought a death tournament would have given Pietersite, Shimmering Breeze and master jeweler so much inspiration! Xe was practically brimming with excitement now, realizing all the things xe had left to see and create.

Pie picked up xyr pace as xe made it to the Arena stands. In xyr haste, xe ran into something below xem. Xe looked down to apologize to Windcutter windcutter windcutter, Windcutter WINDCUTTER windcutter-- windcutter windcutter windcutter. “Windcutter, windcutter windcutter.” Windcutter windcutter windcutter. Windcutter.

Pie grimaced, hoping xe’d made it through that exchange alright. Talking was always hard, especially with strangers, and Pie could never tell what xe was supposed to say or not say; and xe knew xe had a tendency to overshare. Pie shoved xyr way to the front of the stands, and quickly found the Wind Paragon as she was announced. She was [i[beautiful; a slender woman around Pie’s age with a gradient of blue feathers across her body. Xe could make a wonderful piece of jewelry to complement that color scheme… hopefully she’d walk out alive. Pie cupped xyr hands around xyr mouth and shouted, “wooooo, go Nell!” at the top of xyr lungs. The second Paragon was a silver-haired woman brandishing only a glowing Strand. Pie tilted xyr head curiously; xe felt some kind of pull towards the woman that xe couldn’t quite place. She seemed… familiar, somehow.

As other competitors began to be announced, Pie heard a familiar voice, and turned xyr head to see a familiar hooded figure holding a stylish parasol. Could it be-- no way! Pie called out and waved, hoping to get the person's attention. “YO, MILO! IT'S ME!"

< Message edited by roseleaf320 -- 8/24/2022 19:47:51 >
Post #: 5
Page:   [1]
All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> The Championships >> =EC 2022= Spectators Thread
Jump to:


Icon Legend
New Messages No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages Locked w/o New Messages
 Post New Thread
 Reply to Message
 Post New Poll
 Submit Vote
 Delete My Own Post
 Delete My Own Thread
 Rate Posts

Forum Content Copyright © 2018 Artix Entertainment, LLC.

"AdventureQuest", "DragonFable", "MechQuest", "EpicDuel", "BattleOn.com", "AdventureQuest Worlds", "Artix Entertainment"
and all game character names are either trademarks or registered trademarks of Artix Entertainment, LLC. All rights are reserved.

Forum Software © ASPPlayground.NET Advanced Edition