Sorahn's Eternal Melee

[Sorahn]

Hey there everybody. I’m Sorahn; Althanas’s resident furry tribal martial-artist warrior of enigmatic physiology. I think it’s time we had a side event that is a little more… brutal. So I give you: The Eternal Melee.

The concept is simple: a massive free-for-all battle involving everyone who wants to participate all at once. Everyone fights everyone else. Forever.

By forever I mean there’s no real end date to this battle. It will go on as long as it needs to. Anyone can jump in at any time and anyone can drop out at any time. No deadlines to worry about.

So what’s at stake? Each week I will be selecting a particular post that I think stands out as particularly well written. The author of that post will receive 2 fate points. What I’m looking for generally falls in line with the judging rubric, but I won’t be actually judging, just picking the best post each week.

You can use your tournament registered character if you want, or you can make one up just for this. But be warned: characters that are too over-powered and powergamers will be killed in comical ways and removed from battle. On that note: don't be afraid to let your character die. Deaths here don't affect the tournament and you can jump right back in with a different character if you want to keep going.

Bottom line: all you have to do is jump in, beat some people up, relieve some stress, have a good time, and maybe get some fate points. Sound good?

Here’s a vague setting to get you started. Any other details (including how you arrived here) are up to you.

The battle takes place on the peak of a giant mountain. The jagged, rocky cliffs extend up beyond the clouds. At the top, a flat circle, 70 feet in diameter, has been prepared as an arena. Night has fallen, and the circle is lit by torches spaced evenly around the edge of the circle.

[Gordie]

As dusk approached the mountaintop, the large battle armoured warrior walked up to the torch-lit circle. The figure inside the armour was silent. 'Finally,' Nikolai thought to himself 'a Circle of Equals, I have not seen one of these laid out in Founder knows how long. He took a long stride around the arena, being that he was the first one here. The Point Commander then walked into the center of the 70-foot wide circle and knelt down before starting to recite the Ritual of the Jade Falcon. Un benkownst to him, he spoke loud enough for the mike on the suit to pick up his words and relay them to anyone who was near the top of the mountain.

"We are Jade Falcon,
Great among the clans.
We are warriors that fight with the strength of the Falcon's claw,
And ascend to the heavens on the wings of the same.
We remember with the clarity of the Falcon's sight the words of Kerensky.
Through the smoke of time he speaks to us,
His children,
And urges us onward with the promise of Eden.
We will retake what is ours by right,
That shinning jewel, Terra.
Not the vastness of space, nor the Wolf's obstinate howl,
Will stay us from our righteous goal.
We are Crusaders, and will trample all who stand in our way!"

Nikolai waited a few moments befores standing, and shouting at the top of his lungs, "SEYLA!"

At that, he returned to the edge of the arena and waited for any other comers.

[SoulBeaver]

Ascension of a mountain- not a trivial task for the common man. Not even a push-over for the experienced veteran or legendary hero. Especially not an easy task when the air itself seems to suffocate with exponentiating strength as one would forcibly push their next foot up to a new level- each breath a new personal record, but a perpetually fruitless effort.

Into such conditions, with winds that sliced skin under clothes and ripped the latter apart with an abstract laughter, the common man would ultimately find a quick demise. The veteran might asphyxiate at the point of no return, and all but the most legendary of heroes could ever hope to surmount this cold Gigas alive, and not as carrion carried by the desperate avians of the region.

Temperature beyond freezing, this might have been Perdition freezing over for all he knew. Even his metal-plated body started to dull and become unresponsive. Poor humans, thought Syphon's electrically wired computerized mind as his last steel fingers dug into the soft earthen mud at the top- he had successfully surmounted the Gigas. Instead of feeling legendary, he felt frailty, trepidation. A cyborg, giving life to undead flesh, to feel emotions not programmed into his CPU made him wonder how others fared at this point.

Syphon glanced downward from whence he came, trying to forget those invasive feelings. Instantaneously all thoughts dwindled, his core failed to react to this breathtaking sight. The perspective boggled the brain into an overload- a panoramic scene of epic proportions. Cloud formations circled continuously serene around the mountain. Clouds formed the crown of the Gigas, probably the most beautiful aspect of it besides the beautiful light streaks of the sun. They tinted the clouds yellow and orange, giving a tranquil feeling to all those legendary man that had succeeded. Syphon seemed to think that this might be a place where heroes died.

Syphon almost felt ashamed to ruin the serenity he had so heavily ingested, enjoyed. He regretfully shook his head- different matters required attention now. More accurately: violent battle. A benefactor had promised a destructive weapon. An experimental BFG- a thing of lore that could outsize any other hand-held weapon. His only task, the benefactor ensured him, lay in the defeat of an enemy, and the retrieval of a token to prove this. For such a reward, Syphon ensured himself, he would ruin what possible rest the heroes might have gotten atop this Gigas.

At ascent Syphon heard strange mutters, mostly static through speakers, and only caught the end of it- especially the scream. Whatever it meant would have wasted more time on his mind than he could care spare for the task at hand, so he ignored it. Once the rest of his body finally made it atop the plateau as well he could make an educated guess about his opponent. A large, hulking bipedal machine that may or may not have an organism inside of it. However, the plated covers, much like on his own bodily joints except for his lower torso region which remains fully exposed, gave away something very frail inside.

Syphon had seen enough - the smell of gunpowder leaked into the air. Twelve small unguided missiles flew unerringly threw the air with no winds to stray them from their designated path. Destruction would follow, but wasn't sure if their destructive strength proved powerful enough to pierce that armor. As soon as the missiles released themselves from a small opening in his chest region, just above his power core, their noise would give them away, and their speed did not guarantee an instant hit if the figure proved dexterous enough. Damn.

The smoke obscured much of Syphon's face- the man in armor might not even be aware of exactly 'what's' fighting him. Hopefully, the surprise in that revealing moment would bring time, but that's future time. Present time caused him to empty his salvo and take steps away from the ledge lest a shove, shockwave, or otherwise end his efforts in less than seconds. No failure!

[Gordie]

Explosions surrounded Nikolai Redmond, covering the clanner's battle armoured form in a large amount of missile explosions and dirt from the large amounts of craters almost instantaneously formed.

'Finally,' the Jade Falcon warrior thought, 'a challenge worthy of my skill." Nikolai called up the damage diagnostics on the suit, and apart from the already present targetting scanners, there was a small amount of armour gone from across the suit. Not enough to allow the wintry air into the suit, but enough that he felt a rumble from all of the miniature explosions. 'now to find out who my assailant is'

With his visual scanners, all he could see was dust in the icy wind. Nothing but dust in the wind. As the dust started to coagulate around the two combatantants, Nikolai ignited his jump jets and soared 90 meters overhead of the other combatant. As the exhaust from the multi-use thrusters came into contact with the expended combustibles, the dust bloomed again, as though an explostion had propelled him skyword. At the apex of his jump, the battle armoured warrior touched off his first pair of SRM-2s, the missiles streaking towards the ground at near mach velocity. One of the missiles went into the second cloud, reigniting it for the second time, while the other missile exploded on the edge of the cloud, expanding the dust cloud exponentially to the smaller missiles to nearly half the ring.

Igniting his jumpjets for the second time, he accellerated downward. The 90 meter decent, which took about a third of the time as the ascent, ended with Nikolai aiming a foot at the creatures torso.

"Be warned, Stravag. You have brought the fury of the Falcon's Claw upon you!" The warrior shouted mechanicaly as the Elemental-class battle armour closed in on the other combatant.

Hes about 1 second behind the paired explosions, if he misses, it will put a roughly 2 M crater in the dirt where the robotic figure stood.

Stravag: a clan epithet derived from Stran-, which means independant, and -Vagos, which means thinking.

[Mikeavelli]

A brilliant doorway of blue light ripped itself open atop the Mountain, in the very center of the circle. Screams issued forth, the horrid cacophony of a thousand trapped souls yearning to break free, and the jubilant cry of triumph from the single man who actually made it. Portalhopper, tall, powerful, a Planewalker in his prime leaping from the hells themselves to an isolated mountaintop where giant mechs were firing an incredible amount of ordinance at each other.

Behind him, a half-dozen red-scaled arms with vicious claws still dripping with deadly poison slashed futily before the portal closed. Ahead of him, explosions and madness, giant exploding missiles fired from even larger metal behemoths led him to shout, "Sodding hells, slip one noose ta' land meself right back in tha' middle've another knot."

In his right hand, in a backhanded grip was a four foot long golden-colored longsword, beautifully wrought and shining in the sunlight, a weapon he called "lucky." On his ring finger was a gruesome looking pale ring with what appeared to be still-beating heart on the end of it, presumably the reason why his cuts and scars from the hell he'd just been in were quickly vanishing.

In his left hand, he held the wicked black sawtooth sword he called "styx" in the same backhand grip, and wore a ring of silver inset with an emerald, the magic of which he'd need to call upon very quickly as a stray missile came screaming towards him.

It wasn't even aimed at him, just a stray meant for one of the more durable contendors. Even still, and with that silver ring calling into being a force shield to stand between him and the explosives, he was sent reeling to the side, and and he tumbled a good deal further across the rough mountain stone to put a little more distance between himself and the ongoing battle.

He'd just enough time to stand and take account of his surroundings before the onslaught continued..

OOC:
Character is Portalhopper, just like the Invitational Tournament character.

Except, since there are mechs involved here, and the battle is endless, I'm having him here be 'Hopper in his youth, the younger, stronger, faster version, and one not subject to the nerfs placed on his rings for the real tournament.

[Gordie]

(ooc: There are no mechs here, Nikolai is my Tournament character)

[Sorahn]

Well, a week has gone by, and as promised, I'm here to drop some fate points on ya.

I personally liked SoulBeaver's post. Excellent use of setting and beautiful descriptions, as well as some good character insight. +2 fate points to you.

The rest of you guys are doing a good job as well. Keep up the fight, the battle's just heating up!

[Isis Ixidar]

My name is Pazuzu, remember it when you tell your children’s children of the one who turned your plane into a smoking wreck. I am fairly old, even among my demonic peers, for I have stopped counting single digits at this point and only count my age by the thousands. So far, I am one hundred and twelve years old.

I am handsome, no matter whom you ask. In my native form, I stand somewhere in the area of eight to nine feet tall. My beautiful skin is always pasty and of poor complexion, thanks in part to the ratty feathers that shield my body from the harsh light of the Abyss. My body is emaciated like no other; I am so thin that women would give an arm just to have my shape, but it is my beautiful face that is the deal maker. Perfectly ovular it ends in a pointed beak that no mortal could ever hope for. It has taken thousands of years of growth and tender care to obtain this level of beauty and I’m not quite ready to give away my secrets just yet.

It was an impudent little whelp who called himself Portal Hopper who dragged me to this place where my destiny was to unravel. It was a beautiful mountain top; the peak had been carved off to make way for a ring of torches. Surely, it was the home of some blood ritual or another. In the Abyss, there was always a layer above you and then the layer above that; the only sky that I have ever known is the endless darkness above my head, but this was somehow… different and wholly beautiful. The sky that stretched above me was deeper then any ocean that I have seen, but somehow, it was more natural and far from empty. Little points of light dotted it at irregular intervals, twinkling just out of the corner of my eye until I look at them. All around the mountain peak was a ring of fluffy white clouds. The rational part of my mind told me they could not support my weight, but I had never predicted that clouds could be this beautiful…

Yes, this would be a great place for my throne.

I stepped out from the portal to follow the Hopper, readjusting my male-skirt and pulling my scepter from thin air. My fingers caressed its intricately carved patterns, my hooked claws groping across the bare anaconda’ skull that topped it off. I traced the fool’s bouncing body with my eyes; if I was capable of grinning, I would be doing so by now, but instead I could only savor the taste as I took my first step towards revenge. Yet something caught my attention.

It was so obscure that anyone in their right mind could have walked right past it without so much as a glance. It was a hunched form, with little more then a dirty potato sack thrown over its shoulders to keep small children from crying at how deformed and hideous it must have been, but it seemed to come to me, with a wave of its hand and an upturned palm. Against all logic, I stepped forward…

“Well what do you want, pathetic mortal,” I said with all the weight of authority that I could hold behind my voice.

“I need some money…”

“Now, you listen here. I have worked hard for my fortune! The name of Pazuzu is known far and wide throughout the multiverse! Why should I not destroy you where you stand!” I was enraged and rightfully so; who would dare to ask money of a demon?

“I only need about tree-fiddy.”

It was about this time that I noticed the beggar was three stories tall. Upon closer inspection, I could see a hint of purple scales in the darkness below; its arms were short and stubby with limp wristed claws attached. It was a monster like none I had ever seen before; a beast from the Jurassic era ignored by evolution and left behind by time.

“Y-you’re a monster!” I began to protest.

But it was too late, the creature had already grown disinterested, perhaps sensing by some instinct or another that I wasn’t going to give over the money and with it, my soul. As it turned, a tree log of a tail followed suit; the thick meaty vine smashed into my side, curling around my arm and crushing my wings up against my back at the same time. I could feel my hollow bones shattering to dust with the impact and the next thing I knew, I was tumbling down the mountain sides.

I beat my wings helplessly against the air, but they too were broken and my demonic healing was not coming soon enough.

”Aha!!” I shouted as the bones finally came together and my wings beat in full for the first time, but it was too late. I ran head first into a rocky outcropping, my body bouncing away from the mountain just in time to smash into the slopes yet again. It was a long fall and by some horrible twist of fate, I managed to survive and remain conscious the entire time. My mangled body would take months to heal and the one eye that hadn’t popped out of its socket stared balefully up at the beautiful sky. But no matter how much I looked, no matter the distance, even after the explosions had stopped, I swear I could see its beady eyes staring down at me, mockingly asking me for three-fifty…

I could not give it my soul, so instead it took my beauty.

***

The purple dinosaur removed his cloak with a violent shake of his body. Barney, as some called him, was as massive and imposing a creature as you would ever find. He stood at exactly thirty-four feet and four inches tall, his body perfectly reptilian in its shape. His back made a sleek ninety degree angle supported by a pair of thick muscular purple legs. His feet were broad to support his massive weight and his hands were tiny like chickens feet but somehow managed to clutch a fully human-sized walking stick that never once met the floor. His head was broad, but there was always a smile on his face, crooked across his reptilian lips and exposing a set of cruelly serrated and yellow teeth. His eyes were pits of piss yellow that surrounded a vertical black slit which bored through the very soul of whomever they chose to stare at. But perhaps most memorable of all, beyond his purple skin and the green spots that adorned them as well as his great whip like tail, was the top hat that everyone remembered best.

Barney surveyed the battlefield; he took note of the resting Portal Hopper and regarded him as a meal not worth the energy it took to chew. He turned his head instead to the rock ‘em sock ‘em robots a few feet away, missiles firing wildly in all directions between exchanges of wild kung-fu kicks.

His body gave a slight shudder, his feet kicked out to his sides one after another to work any kinks that might have worked themselves in-between his most massive of joints. His chicken arms worked themselves around at his sides, trying to clap together as his body dipped low, he took a stance.

Then he charged forward. One step after another, sending rumbles through the mountain itself as he made his way towards the pair, gracelessly whipping his mighty wedge shaped head into the air just a foot away from the pair. Should they be unfortunate enough to still be in place when the dinosaur intercepted them, they would crack against the thick crest atop his head. The force would probably send the pair tumbling over the edge of the arena along with Pazuzu, but with the sheer thickness of his head the beast wouldn’t know if he hit until he turned around to inspect later.

He lumbered forward one step then two, righting himself and then scrambling to readjust his tie with his boney fingers. His feet kicked back against the dirt a few times and his head turned up, he was… quite clearly proud of himself.