Congratulations for making it to the second round of the Tournament of Champions. Both teams receive three Fate Points for making it this far! The battle closes after 11:59 PM EST on March 16th. Good luck to both teams!
Arenas were arranged at random, and your prompt is as follows:
You will fight atop a mighty stone disk floating within a vicious thunderstorm. Watch your step, for a metal grid lines the disk’s surface.
Retired Administrator
Elijah Belov, "Everything else is just a chef!"
Bitterwood -- Red-Stained Night
((All bunnying between Lask and Yuka is approved in advance!))
I hate weather like this.
The wind tore at her body, an invisible hand threatening to pick her up and cast her away into the indiscernible darkness below. A thousand stinging pinpricks of rain lashed her delicate features, the occasional threatening flicker of lightning illuminating her slender figure as she waited patiently for her opponents to appear. The forced calm on Yuka’s face masked her uncertainty well, but beneath it her confidence had been comprehensively shattered by their losing battle in the previous round of the Cabal’s so-called “tournament”. Her fine night-black hair clung limp and straggling to her forehead, brief furrows appearing upon gleaming porcelain skin as she fought back her fears.
Lask stood protectively alongside her, his scales glistening wetly as meandering rivulets drizzled along his body like miniature waterfalls. Yuka couldn’t help but marvel at her companion’s easy nonchalance; she even got the sense that he was trying to shelter her from the worst of the storm, despite the apologetic, almost cheesy grin upon his draconian face. His powerful muscles were tensed in liquid posture, while his intelligent eyes repeatedly scanned the vicinity, alert for any sign of their foe.
“Nice day for a fight, eh?” he grinned goofily, noticing her interest. Yuka replied with a burst of inadvertent laughter, almost reluctantly taking heart from his unwavering good humour. There was a touch of wan tiredness about the bright smile she gave him in return. But by the time the young woman had returned her attention to the setting, even the unrelenting fury of the storm seemed to have receded slightly, testament to her spirit.
She shifted her feet on the sombre slick stone upon which she stood, uneasily testing her balance. The silvery grid of metal embedded there sparked to life under the fickle influence of the lightshow overhead, strangely mesmerising and beautiful. Landscapes such as this, tainted as they were by their arcane abnormality, only served to bring back unpleasant memories of Haidia and the uncomfortable half-year she had spent in that dark daemon underworld. She had only been partially successful in her quest for more powerful magic, before the Cabal had spirited her away to whatever dimension she found herself in now. Briefly lost in thought, Yuka had to take a deep breath to settle her nerves and force her mind to return to the present.
“Watch where you put your feet,” she whispered gently, hoping that Lask's keen hearing would catch her words before they were swept away by the constant roar of the thunderstorm. Yuka shifted her weight to one leg, following her companion’s lead in tensing for action. The other limb, wounded in the previous battle and not yet fully healed, twinged raw pain in reply.
The dull ache whispered to her mind, abrasively reminding her of how much she hated fighting. Her battles had never been of her own choosing, the fates that swept her along towards her destiny not any she had ever wished for. And yet, how ironic was it then that the very power she needed to survive could only be obtained by spell and steel, sword and sorcery.
Resigned to whatever fortune the capricious winds would bring upon her, she continued to scan her surroundings for signs of her next opponents.
Last edited by Wings of Endymion; 02-26-09 at 03:47 AM.
-Level 5-
One with the sea as she is one with the wind
She stands listening to the rhythm of the world around her
Forever torn between two worlds
She cannot choose
Demon of the sea, angel of the sky
Lask dropped to a crouch to further shelter Yuka as the next gust of wind whistled its way across the harsh and unforgiving stone, driving the rain hard into his clothing and making him shiver. He wasn’t cold as such because his scales protected him, but his wounded tail was going to be an issue – it was already starting to numb despite the bandages and leather covering. That and the nervous energy pent up in his body that just wasn't going away.
This was normal however, so he didn't pay too much attention to it. This wasn't an omen of danger or anything - if it had been he was fairly sure Nirvana would have sent Tiddles to provide fair warning and that was it - game over.
He sighed, tilting his head just a little to look up at the maelstrom and see the lightning arc across the sky. Nirvana had warned him this might happen - the storm at least, it had been building over the Garden and was obviously going to be used as a dramatic backdrop to what was hoped would be a dramatic fight. Lask wondered if this was the punishment by those that held the tournament for the harsh words the night before.
But words were words and they couldn't be taken back. Worrying would do no good for anyone when it was about things you couldn't change. Unless it was about something you could. Case in point - when Lask felt the tiniest of shocks from the hilt of his sword brushing close to his neck. This wouldn't do at all - and he was thankful Yuka's equipment was wooden.
Arcs of electricity already earthing themselves from his weaponry to the grid below him completely unnoticed up until now, and with a grim sigh he unhooked each weapon and drove it into the stone to keep it away from the grid itself.
At least, he tried. The sword went in enough to be upright. The belt was then looped around the top but the axe, for all it's ingenuity, was a bit of a problem.
"...Lask?" Yuka asked, curiously.
“I brought metal to a lightning slinging match." He grunted, rolling his eyes. "Why, oh why, did you say yes to Nirvana's crazy plan?"
She just shrugged and smiled that sad little smile.
"You know..." Lask continued, not wanting to see that bottom lip quiver again. "Instead of telling me to watch mine, you should really watch yours. I'm not against carrying you if I have to with your bung leg and all. Which, as I recall, was my fault."
She gave him a light tap which was better than a 'baw' and resumed her watch again.
Lask however, wondered if Nirvana was watching and what she thought if the whole situation. Probably laughing her arse off over a cup of hot cocoa. Damn, he could do with one himself right now.
Remember to dance, Lask. Act the twinkle toes. He told himself.
Nirvana remained, watching him behind his eyes. And when the time comes, dance with the girl. Keep her safe. Her voice, imagined or not, was liquid fire down his spine, a shiver that made his guard scales tighten and spike up, just a little. His nostrils flared, over the ozone of the lightning and the wet-earth and salt, he could smell someone approaching…
AKA Gunther R. Bellum, AKA Lask Ventrist (ToC Participant)
It had been an adventure like no other, the kind of tale that would passed down from one generation to the next with a swollen sense of pride. They had seen the mysteries of the Multiverse unravel right before their very eyes and things may very well never be the same again for the humble people of the Frontier. But for the Ixidar sisters, this was just another day on the job…
The planet of Metazorn could be aptly described as one massive ruin. A testament to the fall of one of the most feared civilizations in the Multiverse with secrets of a history long forgotten, hidden beneath the rubble with ancient war machines lying in a deep slumber just waiting to be awoken. The Alpha Slivers--an off-shoot of Sliver--originally created by the Engineers, had all but disappeared from the planet in their final moments. Without any form of leadership, the entire species of Slivers dissolved into little more then a pack of interstellar dogs, nipping at the heels of the greater powers around them and causing minor annoyances wherever they went. But some still remembered the accomplishments of the Alpha Slivers, the empty planet held promises of every kind for dozens of powers all across the sky.
After their anti-climatic showdown with the villainous Baron von Wulfenslayer, the sisters had effectively freed the small booney planet from the terrors of corporate servitude. Following the directions of Imperius, the pair had stumbled upon a lightly colonized portion of Frontier-space, where they caught wind of the legends of Metazorn. Typical of her attention span, Isis completely forget about their journey to Althanas and veered off course. That winding path of hers leads through death traps, errant explorers, and even a few Ancient Slivers. All leading up to this very moment…
It was so very typical of ancient temples like this. Isis sat mounted on her sister’s shoulders, as if she hadn’t budged an inch from the previous round, her arms barely wrapping around like the twisted effigy of a jade elephant. Masika’s already dour face was taking a turn to unhealthy as her sisters powerful thighs clamped around her throat. All at once, the temple had begun to collapse around them. The stone walls had been torn down, the roof had collapsed, and some things simply seemed to dissolve into thin air. When all was said and done the sisters were left no worse for wear, if heart attacks didn’t count, atop a spacious disk floating precariously in mid-air.
The stone work was plain, save for a number of easily negligible ley lines spreading across the entire structure like a tree’s roots. Its rotation was slow and unobtrusive, what little debris hadn’t fallen off the edge were blown over the edge by a sudden violent ‘bout of wind. As if things couldn’t get any worse, or climatic, a storm had started up in the normally dead atmosphere of Metazorn, with dark clouds surrounding them on every side and even a mild sheet of rain. As if the sisters weren’t already miserable enough…
“Oy! What are you, twelve!?” Isis practically leapt out of her seat, jolted to life by the gentle tingle of her sister’s finger tips grazing the flesh of her inner thigh. Just before the nails dug themselves right in.
“Are you trying to kill me!” Masika shouted after taking in a lungful of fresh air. Things had been somewhat strained since their trip to the factory since Isis fully blamed Masika for the Baron’s last minute escape while Masika rudely thrust every life threatening situation into her face like the petty child she was.
But one glance would tell the story of the ordeal that the squabbling sisters had managed to survive despite it all. Their clothes were dirtied, bloodied, and all together torn up until it was amazing the people inside had remained intact. Isis herself had dressed like a little explorer for the explosion with a nice thick leather jacket and a broad fedora that would make any mild mannered professor looking dashing. The khaki pants and shirt were shredded up in several places, showing a patchwork of cream colored flesh where her skin had knit itself together with hurried last minute regeneration. Masika on the other hand had dressed like usual, but the impractically long skirt she wore had been shredded until it could barely be considered mini while the turtle neck sweater was nowhere to be seen.
They shouted and argued, eventually leading to Masika grabbing a thick handful of her sisters unruly hair and yanking on it harshly while poor Isis was stuck holding the jade elephant, unable to respond. A sudden flash of light was the only warning they received before a bolt of lightning struck home on a far end of the disk. The ley lines shone bright yellow as the electricity raced through them and filled the entire disk. A single yelp and a quick leap to the side was all that saved Masika from a brutal shock while Isis swayed from one side to the next, amazingly preserving the pairs' already stupid sense of balance.
But the flash of light brought more then nasty shocks and singed hair with it; there was a pair of strangers hanging demurely off to one side of the disk. Maybe they had been there longer, watching the sisters stumble around the middle of the circle while screaming at each other with all their might. A little white woman with thin eyes chatting away with some accursed form of anthropomorph. Needless to say the sisters were somewhat embarrassed…
“Slivers!!!” it didn’t take long for Isis’ to overcome her sense of shame, dropping the jade elephant to the floor and drawing Imperius from over her shoulder all in one fluid movement. The blade hung in the air, its tip approximating itself with the lumbering scalies wedge shaped head.
“No they’re not Slivers.” The swords voice chimed in at just the right time, carrying the slightest hint of exasperation with it.
“How do you know?” Isis protested.
“They are here to fight you.” He as a matter of factly, drawing a poignant stare from his wielder.
“That’s not a very good answer…”
“Just like last time?” Masika mused to herself, arching a brow accusingly in the swords direction. This seemed to follow an eerily similar path of events every time they followed Imperius’ directions. Dodging questions and withholding answers, it was clear that Imperius had something to hi--
“I am Isis Ixidar! Sixth--“
“Twelfth”
“-teenth Emperor of the Echelon Imperium and sole leader of my people! This is my sister and personal servant Masika Ixidar. State your names and the purpose of your intrusion immediately!” the younger sister shouted at the top of her lungs, carrying over howling wind and pouring rain alike. One might even venture to call her intimidating, had it not been for the fact that she had to sit atop her own sister.
“Veeery good Isis…” Masika muttered beneath her breath, not even bothering to touch upon her new title of personal servant.
“You think so?” Isis slapped her palms down on top of Masika’s head, forcing her deeper into her sulk, her smile practically going from one ear to the next.
“Sarcasm” she said, slapping at her sisters hands nonchalantly.
“Stay on your toes girls, the last two rounds you were lucky.”
“Rounds?” they echoed in unison…
A day late, but I'm on it now....
Thank you for participating! Someone will be along shortly to judge this thread for you!
Due to this not reaching the minimum of 12 posts, or even coming close, I’m not going to be using the rubric. I will be commenting a little bit on the posts, and then declaring a winner! As Dirks said in the first round:
If Ixidar’s partner was MIA you could have gone on without them, just made up some reason as to why they disappeared. Perhaps there was a reason in the ToC area that I didn’t go look for, but either way it’s the easiest way to make this last a bit longer and be more fulfilling. That being said, onto the comments.I’d like to copy/paste an easy to miss excerpt of the Battle FAQ that might be helpful later in the tournament: “It is possible that your partner or your opponent might be gone for an extended period of time, but it might be in your interest to keep the battle moving. In that instance, you might bunny (with permission, see below) [your partner out of the fight] or simply continue the fight with the remaining players.”
Neither team was bad, unfortunately only both members of Sasurai posted, meaning they win by default. The only comments I have for the team is that the writing was very well done, though be careful not to overdo the advanced technique in your writing. If you had kept up the writing, Wings, it would have slowed the pacing a little and made it rather hard to shift through. I loved the majority of what you wrote, just a couple things that were a little hard to follow.
Sasurai Advances to Round 3!
Rewards: Fate Points!
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