Round Two: (1) Blank v (9) Baneblades

[Max Dirks]

Round two will begin Friday, May 19th at 12 AM EST. Good Luck!

[INDK]

The sun was bright this day. Not too bright, but it beamed over the pagodas welcomingly, welcomingly warm like the light on the first day of spring. It was good Lornius weather, and the team Blank had particular reason to be cheerful. They had gotten past the first hurdle in the LCC, even though that battle had never reached resolution. It was likely by crowd reaction that Blank had advanced, their offense had been considerably more crowd pleasing, and at the very least, more exotic.

This time, things were going to be made much more interesting. The tournament hadn’t put too much effort into the battlefield for Blank’s first match, but now they were going to make sure that people were paying attention. The imagination of Lornius had been piqued, and thus, the officials had planned a grander battle for Blank. They knew that if they promised a more dangerous arena than outside on a beach, then fans would flock to the battle like mice to a bit of cheese.

Some of the LCC’s best minds had sought to ensure that Blank vs. Baneblades would ensure blood. They had devised an arena that both maintained their assets and ensured a hefty crowd and death defying feats. It would be a test for all the competitors, but the officials were particularly interested in testing some of the many rumors about Damon Kaosi. People would pay just to find out which rumors were true. Yes, some of them may have seemed fantastical, but the legend of the Raiaeran general was equally fantastic.

Thus, the top of the tallest pagoda in Lornius had been fettered with rubber strands, one for each competitor. There were harnesses placed around them, custom made so one would fit each participant in the battle. A few stray pieces of rope had also been tied up to a metal rod fixed onto the Pagoda’s top, but it was the harnesses that would provide the competitors with their best protection. They were elastic and long enough to dip nearly to the ground (the tournament organizers nearly salivated at the idea of one of the competitors falling only to stop near seconds from an impending death). The ropes were only there for a fallen combatant to pick themselves back up. Otherwise, the pagoda was no different from any other. It was fairly wide, about fourteen feet square, though a good amount of the space was taken up by steeper areas of the roof that made for difficult climbing. Even then, there was enough room around the edges for some manipulation, if the competitor’s footwork was fancy enough. It would make for an entertaining battle, but most importantly, profit for Lornius.

Everything was ready to go. People were waiting below the Pagoda excitedly, standing and screaming to show their eagerness for the battle to begin. The bright day had ensured a solid turnout, and it seemed that everything was ready for the battle, save for the fact that it seemed that no one in Lornius had seen Damon Kaosi in days. Now, minutes before the battle was to start, he was no where to be found.

Instead of being ready at the pagoda, Damon was hurriedly putting on his clothes, cleaning off his sword and loosening up his muscles. The boy hadn’t intended to be so distracted, but he had been so busy practicing his drills that he had completely forgotten the time. After his mistakes in the last round, Damon had diligently been practicing how he would make an opening strike, just so that he wouldn’t embarrass Ashiakin again. A storm of lasers had saved him once, but the boy knew that he couldn’t afford to just rely on the spell. Thus, he’d spent all his time between the last battle and the next practicing, from early in the morning until late at night. Even on the day of the battle, Damon woken up in the early morning just to work the kinks out of his plan of attack. However, the boy had been so diligent, that he’d completely lost track of the time and now was likely going to be late for their next battle. He only hoped that Ashiakin could forgive him.

As he hustled his way to the tournament, the boy couldn’t help but remark at how much his motivation had changed since he’d first set foot for Lornius. Entering the LCC had at first merely been something to do; now winning it had become his identity. Damon now measured himself by what he did for Ashiakin, how much time he practiced, how much work he did, how bravely he fought, after incurring the ice elemental’s displeasure in the earlier round, Damon now felt like he would do anything for is partner’s approval. Only now was the boy realizing how difficult that would be to achieve. He had assumed because of his willingness to accept Ashiakin as a friend, those feelings would have been reciprocated. However, Damon now realized that was foolish. He was going to have to earn his partner’s friendship, and the only way he could do that was by proving himself this round. The LCC was theirs to win, but Damon needed to make sure that they won it.

Ever since he had met the ice elemental, Damon had been sure that they were going to win. As time went on, Damon had grown increasingly committed to the task, but he’d realized how hard it would be. The more he heard about Ashiakin’s plans upon victory, the eager Damon grew to win. He was certain that if he really was the reincarnate of a famous general he would have been able to win, but now he was beginning to doubt that too. Famous generals didn’t make mistakes. The fact was, just like his namesake, this Damon Kaosi wanted to be a hero.

He knew it would be hard to be a hero, but at the very least, Damon needed to be on time for the tournament. His imagination even more active than most children, ominous thoughts began to loom in his head of Ashiakin being overwhelmed by two enemies and killed before he could arrive. Unable to tell time precisely, when the boy looked up at the sun, he knew the round may have already started. If he didn’t move quickly, it might just be too late. Ashiakin would never forgive him then.

Damon began to run faster.

[Ashiakin]

“Is your partner the real Damon Kaosi?”

Ashiakin hesitated at the question. He was seated in a crowded Lyridian café across a small table from a journalist, their interview an awkward spectacle enmeshed in a sea of droning conversations and curious glances from other patrons. The reporter was a willowy thirty-something, her dark tucked behind her ears, eyes and lips unsmiling as she scribbled on a notepad. She was with the Lyridia Chronicle, the only paper in Lornius of any repute, or so the Salvic monarchy informed him. Ashiakin took a sip from his glass of wine. “Of course he is,” he finally offered, smiling easily.

She tilted her glasses and looked unimpressed. “You sound certain. How do you know?”

“It’s obvious, don’t you think?” The demon ran his fingers through his white hair absently. “It’s not every day that some boy with unrivaled powers appears out of nowhere and claims to be a dead hero reborn. Believe me, I’ve see stranger things. I walked the earth during the days of the War of the Tap, when—”

“Yes,” she interrupted, not giving him a chance to continue. “So they say. How did it feel for a mythical legend to be defeated in the first round of the Serenti Invitational?”

Ashiakin bit his lip. On any other subject, he would have likely argued with her. But his recent performance in the Serenti had deeply embarrassed him. It was a sore wound that this journalist was picking at. He said nothing for a long while, just looked at her. She faltered under his stare, shuffling her notes and nervously twirling her pen. As adamant as she had been before, now she seemed equally disarmed. It was all that Ashiakin could do not to smile. He had gotten his revenge, small as it was.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said eventually. “I really must be going. They’ve placed me on the other side of the island for the second round. I’ve a few days ride ahead of me, it seems.” He pulled several pieces of GP out of one of his silky pockets and placed it on the table for the waiter. Nosy wench, he thought, as he stood and made for the exit.

The journalist stood quickly and called out to the demon’s back: “How do you feel about your upcoming round?” Her voice faltered at first, but became steadier after only a moment. “Do you think you can regain your status with a victory here?”

Smiling, but wordless, Ashiakin walked through the door. Let’s see how well she fares when her employers discover she failed to complete her interview. It was a foolish thing to take pleasure from, he knew, but his Serenti defeat had hurt him.

Lyridia hit him as the café door closed behind him. The disappointed crowds of poor outside the casinos, the smells of sex and roasting meat, the cries of hawkers and charlatans, the subtle hum of the black market holding it all together. He would be leaving it all behind for a few days for the pagoda shrine. As much sleazy charm as Lyridia possessed, Ashiakin couldn’t say he would be sad to be away from it.

Edwin and Vissal were waiting outside. After the Salvic monarchy had learned that his first round had been a victory, they had felt the need to send him a complimentary retinue. Edwin was a squire of sorts, an awkward boy of sixteen, sent to take care of Ashiakin’s weapons and supplies. Vissal was evidently his body guard, a taciturn battle-mage and an ugly woman besides. Like I really need a body guard, he remembered thinking. And a woman at that. How ridiculous. Over the past several days, Ashiakin had been perfecting the fine art of ignoring the pair of them.

“We’re leaving,” Ashiakin announced as he stepped toward the two. Edwin muttered excitedly about the tournament as he set about preparing Ashiakin’s horse, but Vissal just nodded and mounted her own. Well, he thought, won’t this be fun?

The journey was short and quiet. At Ashiakin’s insistence, they mostly stayed away from towns and villages. Forests, hills, and rivers. As they road, the scenery all blended together in Ashiakin’s head. Whenever they encountered a tournament-goer or a fan, Ashiakin made sure they avoided contact with them when possible.

When their horses finally trotted up to the shrine, sweat-soaked and exhausted, the journey had done little to restore Ashiakin’s ill mood. A large crowd had gathered outside the pagoda to watch the match and many cheers erupted as the party rode in. The demon was not particularly looking forward to this match. He had visited the pagoda the day of his first round victory to find out all the details on his next match. The fact that he would be bungee jumping off the tiered tower meant his archery would be useless. Ashiakin was a competent swordsman—but that was with two feet on the ground. This battle was certain to be difficult.

Where the bloody hell is Damon? he wondered. He had not talked to the boy since they had defeated the Knights of the Square Table. None of the demon’s spies on Lornius had been able to turn up news of him, either. It worried him, but Ashiakin had faith in Damon. Even if he truly didn’t believe him to be an elven general reborn, the boy was amazingly powerful. Besides, he needed him to be here so they could win.

“Edwin, take this,” he said as the three of them dismounted. He tossed his quiver of arrows and bow to the squire, who promptly dropped it. He sputtered and murmured apologies and set to picking the arrows off the ground. Ashiakin said nothing to him except, “When you’re done with that, tie up the horses and get them some water.” He turned toward Vissal. “Please make sure that he doesn’t break anything.”

With that, Ashiakin shouldered his way through the crowd and climbed the steps of the pagoda. The door closed behind him and, for a few moments, he was gone from sight. But he soon reemerged near one of the rubber harnesses on the rooftop. Curiously, as he waited atop the pagoda, Ashiakin’s back was to the crowd.

[AsukaStrikes]

"Hey, Rheawien. Who are these people we're fighting against?"

The dusty road leading to Team Baneblades' destination, though falling into disrepair from years of neglect, was surprisingly well-travelled and the two fighters never quite found a stretch of road without LCC fans or over-enthusiastic hawkers to join in their travel. Their overzealous gawks and chatty mouths, coupled with with the fact neither one of Team Baneblades was able to acquire a ride to their battleground was starting to get the best of the redhead. She decided to veer off the path and into the damp, ankle-high grass off to the side. It was a wonderful respite from the billows of dry, itchy brown powders being thrown at her from the merchant cart in front. The sun just peeking out from behind the dense foliage lining one side of the path. Her past life in Akashima had always been in and around the furnace, watching her father strike his sturdy hammer on the glowing piece of metal soon to take the lives of warriors, thieves and the innocent alike. The heat of the sun was nothing like that. Not the warmth she experienced being so close to the burning coal and charred steel. The sun was imposing. So distant, yet unforgiving.

The throng of spectators hurried ahead of her, unconcerned about whoever was going to be fighting their beloved hero reincarnate. It seemed as though the multitude didn't care what kind of devious plot was bubbling away at the top of his mind. All they wanted to see was whether the revered elven general Damon Kaosi had indeed been reincarnated.

Asuka wasn't enjoying this tournament a lot, either. Not since the team they were supposed to be fighting dropped out even before she could even see a shadow. It irked the lass to have to wait for her opponent and it turned out she was going to find no thrill, no rush of adrenaline to slake her thirst for battle. Hopefully, this round won't be the same.

The Akashiman swordsmaiden listened intently to the words of her drow partner as she went on about the Ice Elemental and his partner, a rather young kid with unimpressive looks. Ashiakin... heh. I remembered that guy. It was a vague recollection from loitering in the Lounge back in the Serenti. The supposed Ancient was said to have lost to a young, upstart fist-fighter. A mere child at that as well. What a laugh.

Of course, Asuka couldn't help reminding herself that she almost ended up in the same position, nearly swept to her demise by the chilly embrace of the southern ocean. At least, Asuka contemplated as the Baneblades neared their destination, Mine was an equal.

Ever since the encounter at the swampy battleground, Asuka still knew little about her drow partner. The lass figured Rheawien wasn't much of a talking type and neither was she. But a little communication couldn't hurt from time to time, now that she thought of it.

The voices around Asuka drifted into the back of her mind, growing quieter by the second until only the sound of blood coursing through her temple was the only thing she could hear. It was irrelevant how many people came to cheer for Team Blank. How skilled the legendary Ice Elemental and the supposed reincarnation was and how easily they both demolished their previous roadblock.

Yamihara.

The one and only reason why she was ever in this cursed tournament, or any kind of battle at all. She needed to find her. Find out why they are alike in more than just one way. What that girl's connection is to her.

Fame is one way to go about finding a person. Her loss in the Serenti would forever leave a scar, physically and mentally. The Lornius Corprorate Challenge was perfect for her to regain the drive for battle and buffer the spirit after losing so badly. And with the island as the prize, it couldn't be any better.

((OK, let's get to that pagoda. You can bunny Asuka as she snapped back to reality.))

[Rheawien]

The first round was preposterous and utterly worthless of the effort Rheawien put into it. As if the soggy swamps of northern Lorinus forests weren’t irritating enough, the sky decided to rain cats and dogs on that day, soaking the half-elf to the bone. And when she finally managed to reach the designated battlefield - caked in mud and angry enough to shred the organizers to pieces with her bare hands - her opponents failed to show up. For Rhea, who joined the Lorinus Corporate Challenge solely for the challenge, the lack thereof only raised her tension.

The only thing that she found in the middle of the stinky marshes was her companion, Asuka Murakama, but given the redhead’s bitter disposition, that turned out to be less of a gain then Rheawien imagined it would be. True, there was something intriguing about the tomboy lass and her roughness that tickled the half-elf’s mind on several occasions as they traveled to their next reckoning, but most of the time Asuka was as accessible as a mountain top. Rheawien mulled on this fact for quite a while before she understood that Asuka’s demeanor differed little from her own before she met Sarah Dahlios. So instead of being a bitch to the girl, she decided not to fight fire with fire and try to approach her with more gentleness. She maybe didn’t swing the same way Rhea did, but things tend to change on a flip of the coin sometimes. Heads become tails. Black becomes white. Friends become lovers.

Not being a caustic bitch turned out to be more difficult that the half-elf imagined given their current situation. Not only were they forced to walk to their next battle with the team made of the so called legends, but the buzz about the return of the oh-so-great Damon Kaosi and his ancient ally, Ashiakin, followed their every step like a bad odor. Some laughed at the girls, some offered their condolences and all of them stood on the verge on getting bitch-slapped by the frigid bitch herself.

Asuka’s company and the blooming spring day around her offered at least some consolation to the white-haired woman. They strayed from the main road and down a stretch of meadow beyond which the pagoda reached for the sky in all its majesty.

“Please, call me Rhea.” the half-elf said in a soft tone, her lips offering a minute smile as she followed the red haired swordsmaiden. “And I know a thing or three about these two that form team Blank. Blank...” she digressed with a scornful grin. “Whoever came up with that name is in apparent lack of imagination.” she muttered more to herself before she continued. “Anyways, Damon I know from the time he was the Aegis of the Brotherhood, though, from what people say, it’s not the same Damon... whatever that means. Either way, from what I remember he has more then a couple tricks up his sleeves, mostly that ridiculous fruity song magic.”

She paused, her eyes noticing the massive crowd that gathered at the foot of the building that was to host their strife with the team Blank. They were all out for blood, wretched carnivorous folk too weak or too gutless to be predators themselves. Instead they were like vultures, eagerly waiting to devour each spilled drop of blood with their eyes. Rheawien sighed audibly before she continued. “As for Ashiakin, I heard mostly stories and rumors. He’s some sort of an ancient ice demon, wan looking thing with pompous attitude and a stick up his...” she smiled once again, this time teasingly. “...rear end, shall we say.”

By this time, the female duo reached the back row of the gathering crowd and the word of their arrival spread like a plague. “The Baneblades! You’re about to get destroyed! Better go home play with your dolls, girlies! I’ve got money on you... to die in the first two minutes!” were just some of the shouts from the crowd that made a relatively narrow bottleneck and enabled them passage. A man clad completely in black stepped in front of them wordlessly, his hands taking out what looked like a measurement tool, spreading it to evaluate her shoulder width.

“Get out of our way, idiot!” Rheawien bawled, grabbing the man by the shoulder and pushing him back into the crowd. “Bloody undertakers! They’re like vultures. All of you! Vultures and good-for-nothings!”

This naturally didn’t help with the demeanor of the crowd that booed and mocked them as if they were walking towards a guillotine. Luckily, by the time first unknown objects became airborne with an intention to strike the Baneblades, the two women managed to break through the circle and reach the pagoda. Rheawien dusted of her skin-tight leather pants, fixed her scant black tank top so it covered her breasts perfectly and gave the crowd the finger. Then they fled inside the pagoda as fast as humanly possible.

“You alright?” she asked her companion once they were safe and the clamor outside was nothing but a bunch of incomprehensible murmurs. “Moronic people. We’ll show them. Come on, let’s get to the top.”

Only, would they show them? Rheawien was certain that she could hold her own in a battle, but she was uncertain about Asuka’s battle prowess. The girl talked the talk, no doubt about it, but could she walk the walk was something the half-elf didn’t know. She seemed so young, despite her brassy idiosyncrasy, so inexperienced and in a way, Rhea felt the need to protect her. That was why, as they were making their way up the circular stairs that led to the higher levels, she stopped the redhead abruptly.

“Asuka wait. I... I want you to have this.” she said, reaching for the leather string that stood around her neck and taking it and the large stone off. “I call it simply The Ward and it will block a hit or two if they manage to sneak in a strike. Don’t worry about me. I have enough blades to keep myself safe.” she finished with a reassuring smile and fighting off the urge to kiss the lass and those rosy lips of hers. Instead she led the way up the stairs with renewed vigor, emerging on top in less then a minute.

Her initial reaction was twofold. She was satisfied to see that Ashiakin (for it had to be the ice demon, since she knew Damon and it was not Damon that waited them on the highest floor of the grandiose pagoda) showed up, his posture stoic and casual on the other side of the battlefield, as if they were mere horseflies and he was to swat them away with a snap of his fingers. However, she wasn’t satisfied with the rubbery contraption that they were supposed to harness around themselves. She approached to edge of the roof confidently, her elevated dexterity providing enough balance for her light boots to stand with solidity despite the slanted surface.

“You there! Ashiakin, is it? What do you say we leave this child’s play and face off as real warriors?” she called out to the other side of the roof, her posture tranquil, her knees bent as her right hand stood on the hilt of her katana. Her fingertips were itchy - gunslinger fingertips - radiating with her eagerness to combat and clash blades. She didn’t want protection. She didn’t need protection. If she wanted protection, she wouldn’t have joined a tournament where people killed people. Besides, the demon looked like someone she could take in three moves tops.

[AsukaStrikes]

The throng gathered at the base of the pagoda was anything but supportive. Left and right, the crowd of wretched battle-goers hissed and booed at Team Baneblades as if the two girls were on trial for a heinous crime. She wouldn't be surprised if this indeed was a kangaroo court and her team was charged with stepping up to challenge the people's hero. Guilty as charged.

Her white-hair partner spat threats as she shoved her way through the indignant numbskulls showering mockery and derision at Team Baneblades. This did nothing to help elevate the Akashiman's mood either, especially when one half-wit retard decided to grab a handful of her backside. The blatant ridicule was dealt firmly with a deft back-hand punch to his bridgeless nose. Imbeciles.

Things could've gotten worse had the two not made it inside the relative safety of the pagoda as the mob swelled angrily, sending innumerable projectiles sailing towards the tower's entrance. It was no wonder why her team was greeted with such malicious intent. The people wanted Blank to win, to see their hero reach the top and stand tall for all to marvel. A role model for the mass. Still, Asuka was furious that humans could be so biased as to ignore anything that was against their beliefs, whether or not it was a possibility the two girls could lay the smackdown on the reincarnated elven general and the Salvic demon. Or it was the because the mass believed Asuka and Rheawien stood a chance against their champion that the mass was too afraid not to grind the girl's ego to dust.

The half-elf seemed more protective to the redhead more and more they travelled with each other, though the lass was uncertain as to the motive behind it. Asuka shrugged in response to the concerned inquiry. Perhaps the half-elf was uncertain as to Asuka's ability to put up a fight of her own. Obviously, the older girl must've felt it was her responsibility to keep Asuka alive as long as she could hold on. But I've had more than my fair share of tournaments and fights already. What't to worry?

Indeed, what was there to worry about? The worst possible thing that could happen was Asuka dead against the blade of her opponent. Things couldn't get any worse than that.

A little ways up the winding stone staircase of the Pagoda, her partner stopped and presented the puzzled youth with what she called The Warder. The strange stone looked both unimpressive and nondescript - nothing seemed special about it to convince Asuka that the object in her hand was in fact a magical talisman. But only when the lass looped the Ward around her neck, her quartz-like pendant glowed dimly with its soft, moonlight shine. The Spiritstone Pendant had yet to fail the Akashiman once in identifying a magical entity, nor was there any reason to doubt the good will of her partner. Asuka looked up to see Rhea gazing deeply into her emerald eyes, benevolence radiating faintly from the elder woman. The Akashiman nodded silently in return, unsure of what kind of face she should be putting on to show her gratitude. The silence lingered still as the two normally bitchy women made their way up the rest of the stairs.

What... the...

Atop the majestic Pagoda, The relatively tiny battleground slanted downwards towards the jade foliage below which stretched away to the great beyond, disappearing into the distance where the sky and forest merged into one. The wondrous scenery was intruded by a sturdy rod jutting out from the top, ropes and hoops dangling from it to create a peculiar apparatus for which the competitors were supposed to fight with.

Rheawien had already started talking smack to her opponent whereas the legendary Damon Kaosi was nowhere to be found. The fact that he had yet to show his face, compounded with the uneasy footing atop the ceramic-covered roof Asuka was to endure, much less utilize in the fight, was starting to get on her nerves.

Where are you, oh, great Damon Kaosi?

The lass edged her way cautiously around the outside of the teal arena, grabbing hold of one of the elastic coils attached to the temple's rooftop and testing the lengthy piece of elastic. Sturdy enough, I guess. A small plan of attack formulated in her head, but the lass filed it away for the time being. All she could do now was wait for her battle to commense.

Wait for her time to charge into the fray.

Oh, it's been so long since I had a good fight...

[INDK]

By the time the boy had made it to the Pagoda, there were already three people on the roof. Damon gulped. The crowd offered no help as to what was going on up on the roof, for the most part they seemed to be talking amongst themselves. It was nothing of importance. Everyone was merely swapping the LCC rumors that had been running so rampantly through Lornius. Soon enough the crowd caught sight of the boy and began to cheer. Damon waved at the crowd nervously before beginning to run up the stairs to the top of the Pagoda. The boy frowned at the thought that there was still so much time left to go before he’d end up on the top of the tower, but he’d had to wave, for Damon was merely acting upon what he believed was the dictates of decency. Now that he was on the stairs, the boy found his second wind and began to run faster up the steep spiral staircases.

By the Damon had reached the top floor, he was nearly out of breath and could do little more than gasp for breath as the monk explained the way the harnesses worked and about the dangers that would be apparent in this battle. He didn’t care about any rules or regulations when he had to defend his partner. The boy could already imagine the ice elemental’s worry. The boy’s glimpses at celebrity in Lornius had showed him that it was hard enough just satisfying the expectations that came from being a living legend. Damon could only imagine how much harder it was for someone like Ashiakin, who was actually deserving of the title. Not only was the ice elemental subjected to all the same expectations, but Damon relied on Ashiakin as a guide as well. The very fact that Ashiakin so willingly bore that burden proved to the boy once again that they deserved to win the tournament for Ashiakin’s sake.

Eventually, the monk stopped talking and offered Damon a harness. “We let the others put theirs up on the roof, but we brought yours down just so that this battle can get started as soon as you are up there,” the monk said as he helped Damon slip the leather contraption on.

The boy nodded eagerly, assuming this was the last step before he could get up on the roof with the other combatants. “Okay… okay,” he mumbled, dismissing the monk’s instructions about how to check the harness and make sure it was secure. “Ashiakin needs me now.”

The monk looked on the boy pityingly, perhaps because such sobriety on the face of a fifteen year old was so particularly unbecoming. “Are you sure you would not want to catch your breath first? You can perhaps even have a drink of…”

“No!” Damon shot back, horrified by the idea of leaving Ashiakin to fend for himself any longer. He swallowed to regain his breath from the outburst and then gestured towards the window. “That’s the way to the roof, right?”

The monk nodded.

Within a second and without any more niceties, Damon had got up onto the ledge and began to pull himself up onto the roof. “I’m coming Ashiakin!” he shouted, inadvertently announcing his presence to his enemies while he was still in a compromised position. However, Damon had been so caught up with making sure his partner knew that he could be trusted, that he had barely any time to think strategy for the unique structure for the round. All the boy knew was that he needed to get to his partner as fast as possible. With both hands up on the ledge of the roof, the boy could practically taste the battle. He grinned enthusiastically. Damon was confident that he would not be deterred.

However, he didn’t stop for a single second to think that one of the Baneblades might choose to impede his climb.

[Ashiakin]

A wind swept over the top of the pagoda, tugging at the demon's fine garments. The blue silk of his shirt billowed about his thin torso, catching distant sunlight and glittering. He was seated on a far corner of the tower’s sloping rooftop with his feet resting in a gutter. The harness was in his lap, the length of rubbery rope that extended from it spilling over the roof and crawling down the pagoda like vines. To the crowd below, it likely appeared more like Ashiakin was bird-watching than preparing to go into battle. Their cheers had fallen quiet for some time now, digressing into murmurs and wild speculation. Maybe, they thought, the demon was summoning Damon Kaosi back from the grave. Or Ashiakin was preparing to transform himself into Damon. Perhaps the new Damon was an illusion. Possibly the new Damon was really a two-headed warlock from the shattered stretches of ice north of Berevar that Ashiakin had sold his soul to in exchange for victory. None of them knew.

As these mutterings morphed into jeers, boos, and a few half-hearted cheers, Ashiakin turned toward the crowd. His opponents, the Baneblades, had arrived. He knew little of them, save that Asuka had placed fourth in the last Serenti Invitational, where he had suffered his grievous first round defeat. That sparked jealousy in him. It gnawed at the demon, crept through him. If he could slay Asuka, he felt that he could win back a little of his pride. Rheawien he only knew by name. He had never met her or heard of any of her deeds. She concerned him less than the other.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, the demon stood and faced the faraway crowd. He kept one foot carefully lodged in the gutter for balance with the other perched neatly on the sloping room. It would not be impossible to walk on the top of the pagoda, but he knew that it might be impossible for him to fight here. His cold eyes watched the Baneblades as they shouldered their way through the seething crowd. I could kill them both right now if I had my bow, he thought sourly. It’s a pity I gave it to Edwin.

Though the demon felt that he had much to redeem personally in this match, he reminded himself that none of this was about him. He had found Damon and entered the tournament for Salvar. Manipulation, maneuvering, he was sick of it all. Now he was a soldier. A loyal agent of the monarchy. No tricks, no betrayals, just servitude. Lornius, though much of it was barren, had a thriving black market and was ideally situated for trade with Corone. A victory would put Lornius under the control of Salvar. Ashiakin was here to colonize. His opponents were no better off than an indigenous tribal population that waited to be slaughtered by industrialized invaders. The Baneblades, he knew, would not survive the cold advance of Salvaran progress.

When Asuka and Rheawien had entered the bottom of the pagoda, Ashiakin set to fastening the harness around his chest. He slid all of the straps into the appropriate slots, tightened them, and secured them with clips just as the monks had told him to. It occurred to him that it would have been wise to have performed a test jump. Too late for that now, he thought. If my cord snaps, I’ll just burn the bloody pagoda.

He glanced about the crowd. Where in the world is Damon? he wondered. He had perfectly clear directions on how to get here… I made sure he understood them. If he doesn’t show up, this is going to be difficult. Ashiakin did not relish the thought of facing the Baneblades on his own. Without his bow, he felt less comfortable, despite possessing a decent arsenal of weapons. He wore a long sword on his back, two long daggers at his waist, and twelve shurikens were hidden about him person. If Damon did not show, he had no doubt that he would make use of them all.

Asuka and Rheawien emerged on the roof. Ashiakin studied them quietly, eyeing their weapons and noting their demeanors, trying to learn as much about them as a few moments would allow. He stood still, but the wind yet pulled at his clothes and white hair. Rheawien spoke to him, but the demon’s eyes burned past the half-elf toward Asuka as she toyed with one of the harnesses. She had only placed fourth in the Serenti… but fourth was further than he had gotten. For that, he would kill her.

Ashiakin’s eyes wandered back to Rheawien a moment after she finished speaking. His blue lips tugged upward into a slight smile. He was aware that, standing awkwardly atop the pagoda with a harness strapped around his noble attire, he probably looked ridiculous. But he didn’t care. He drew his sword and cheers erupted from the crowd. “And disappoint all my adoring fans?” he asked with cool sarcasm. “I think not. If you’re afraid of heights, my lady, I’ll be glad to help you back down.”

Then he heard Damon’s cry. Evidently the boy had arrived before without Ashiakin noticing it—and was climbing toward the roof of the pagoda. Now Asuka and Rheawien would know where Damon was just as well as he did. The demon acted almost without thinking. He hoped Asuka would be too far away and too concerned with the harness to traverse the roof in time. Silently he cast a spell and a thin layer of ice coated the sloping area of rooftop between Ashiakin and Rheawien. If she stepped forward toward him or moved near Damon without noticing the ice, she’d likely slip and plunge to her death, not having attached her harness.

But Ashiakin had to complete the diversion. He smiled and gracefully fell off the roof.

[Rheawien]

((Bunny approved by INDK.))

Rheawien didn’t know what pushed her buttons more; the condescending mockery of the ice demon that came with an ironic grin or the rising cheers of the idiots below that worshiped the demon as if he was a god in flesh. Mostly, though, it was the fact that this wouldn’t be a straightforward battle in which she enjoyed and for which she signed up in the first place. Ropes and rubbery contraptions meant this fight was bound to be a bunch of shenanigans-filled baloney that wouldn’t live to her expectations. And they weren’t even so great.

All she ever wanted was to just engage somebody in a fight, a face off filled with blood and sweat and tears and all the agony and tension that a proper battle offered. She wanted to purge her demons, to vent out on some poor nobody (or even better, somebody with a name that waited to be tarnished) while beating him senseless. She wanted to dominate, to clash swords and conquer men as if they were land and she was a tyrant. She wanted to feel that disgusting stench of the aftermath once she emerged victorious. She wanted all of that (or at least some of that) and got something that looked like a fair ride. Step right up and try the amazing pagoda jumping! A bloody joke.

The half-elf decided that it would not be so. She darted for Ashiakin fiercely, aiming to cut him before he threw himself off the ledge. Unfortunately, she never got past second step. Because even as she made the second stride, her foot simply slid beneath her as if the roof tiling was coated with grease. When her body lost the balance and introduced her face to the terracotta tiles, she could feel that it was actually ice and not grease. Gravity proceeded to do its job instantaneously, sending her body in a skid down the short length of the roof while her pale hands desperately searched for something solid to grab on her way down. All they found was the slippery chill of the tiles. And for a moment, as her lissome body slipped over the edge and the crowd below yawped like a bunch of alligators waiting to be fed, she could see herself splattered in the grass below.

And then her hands grabbed a hold of something solid.

The inertia swung her like a pendulum, making her hit the wall with her shoulder, but her hands held to what looked like a human leg as if it was the last straw. Which it actually was. It took her a couple of moments and a pair of audible breaths to ascertain her situation and raise her eyes from the doom below. Despite the fact that it was perfectly plausible for him to be here, Rheawien was still surprised by the familiar face that he could see above her. Here she was, sliding to her doom, and the only thing that saved her was the leg of Damon Kaosi, her former Aegis and present adversary.

“Damon Kaosi? You couldn’t have come at a better time.” she spoke, her voice a bit rattled by the hard breathing coming as a direct consequence of the tension of the muscles of her arms that clung to the elf’s leg. But when her eyes noticed the rope that Damon used to reach this level, she decided to make the most of this situation. Her left hand let go of the muscled calf, grabbing a hold of the rope. Her right didn’t follow the example. Instead it darted to her hip, grasping the hilt of the damascus dagger.

“Here, let me give you my thanks.” she added with a malicious smile, pulling out her blade and aiming to stab the very place that saved her from being a blood smear in the landscape. After all, all was fair in love and war, and while this was by no means the former, it would definitely be the latter by the end of the day.

[AsukaStrikes]

Even atop the sunny ceramic roof, the chills of terror was still adamant on seizing Asuka in its unforgiving clutch. The lass felt Ashiakin's hatred boring through her skull like a gigantic bloodhound eyeing a tiny fox cornered in a ravine. His demeanor was calm and collect, the kind of opponent Asuka was most nervous about fighting with. No one was sure what could be running through that twisted mind of his.

The light southern breeze picked up and stirred the young girl's jacket, caressing her unnerved tension and brushing away her apprehensions. This is a tournament fight, after all... Fights that neither reward defeat nor withdrawal. There was no turning back if the fighters were all present.

No turning back.

The enthusiastic shout from below the tile lines announced the entry of the other half of Blank. It took only a turn of her head to spot Ashiakin drop from her line of sight out of the corner of her eye, seemingly plummeting to his demise wearing that interestingly unfashionable harness around his regal attire.

Argh! What in the name of Lore does he think he's doing?!?

A dad opponent is no fun to the Akashiman. She wanted to cross blades just at least once in this hellish tournament. Just to feel the rush of adrenaline flowing through her veins and the burning sensation of accomplishment awaiting her after a long, demanding bout. She was not going to let Ashiakin have the satisfaction of depriving her of that feeling.

"Rhea-" Asuka planted her boots firmly on the tiled roofing, ready to swing her way around the roof to where the ice demon had dropped from her view. The half-elf, having demonstrated her prowess atop the slippery arena, looked to be more than enough to handle Ashiakin. The Akashiman maiden was about to holler out a plan to her partner when the black-hair elf also disappeared from sight - a glistening puddle of ice remained where she stood. "Rheawien!"

Even though the thought of seeing her battle companion splattered on the ground below terrified Asuka beyond words, somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Rheawien would be fine. Asuka's worries shouldn't be on her far more capable friend. Defeating the vastly more powerful and egoistic Salvic demon was a much bigger issue to her.

The plans she had was swept aside and off the table. At first, the lass thought the childish Damon was to be her adversary - leaving the "grown-ups" to duke it out seemed like a perfect match-up to her. Now, it was the upstart lass against the immortal demon.

Alright, if it's games you want to play... Asuka wasted no time darting towards the far end of the arena, her left wrapped tightly around the elastic coil of rope. It would be a shame to let go of such a life-saver for extra maneuverability at a time like this. Her right instinctively grabbed hold of Kazeryu, keeping the double-edged blade sheathed while her billowing jacket trailed behind her advance.

In hindsight, donning the harness would sure be a lot better than just merely holding on to it. The straps around her body would certainly relieve Asuka's left hand to do something strategic of its own, like snatching a loose tile and hurling it at her falling foe. Yet she insisted on keeping it unattached and ready to swing from one rope to another in case the line decided to give way without a warning.

A severed lifeline is such a pity. The lass thought as she hurled herself off the Pagoda's roof, tugging on the lengthy coil to prevent her body from dropping too far off the edge. She had to keep her distance from the pale-face demon, suspecting some kind of devious magical plan brewing in his mind. Asuka still wasn't sure how strong her opponent was and rushing in would certainly ensure her downfall.

Kazeryu slid out from his slumber and, in queue with his master landing skillfully on the outer walls of the Pagoda just below the roof line, bit into the ice elemental's thick elastic coil with a clash against the stony bricks. Her mouth drawn upwards in a sly smirk, staring down on the pale physique of her foe.

"See you next fall, Ashiakin."