The Armonia Chamber

[Arden]

Arden, lacquered with toxicity, watched the calamity unfold. Mesmerised by the Falliani’s transformation, it dawned on him why he felt he needed to protect her. He drew to her because she looked like somebody he loved. Sometimes, that was all the reason a man needed to let altruism guide his actions.

“At all co…,” he trailed off as Joshua Cronen, instead of fighting, took to flight.

When Arden ascended the tower, he had considered all the different outcomes of the finale. He could have died, suddenly, and without fanfare. He could have engaged in a righteous duel to the death with a peer. He could have squandered his morality, and slain the weakest amongst them. After seeing whom he was to go against, he threw all those eventualities out of the window.

“What the hell?” He frowned.

There was only one outcome now, and that was with a titan triumphant. The heroes, minute and insignificant, would live through their fleeting fame and fall into darkness. It was the way of history. It was the time-honoured tradition. He had expected it to be more blunt, direct, and devastating.

He clenched his fists, and by some manner of divine intervention, he sprinted forwards. His hesitation had nearly cost his and his charge’s life.

“Shit!”

Joshua Cronen was quick as lightning, greased and crackling with temporal velocity. He rounded the tower and set up a vicious trap both devious and deadly before Arden could finish drowning in his sorrow. His boots slapped against the tower’s stone, and only his nimble footwork prevented him from sliding into Astarelle full-tilt. He reached out; a gauntleted hand reddened by Draug’s plague, and grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Get down!” he roared into her ear. He pulled on her arm, hoping it was enough force to put her out of harm’s way.

He concentrated on the Tap, and let it take its hold on his body. There was a distinct whipping noise, a thud, and then a veil of blue ribbons that fragmented the ochre tapestry with colour. He vanished. When Arden re-appeared, there was only one thing on his mind.

"Astarelle!" he shouted, fangs dripping, eyes wide, and heart racing.

[Roht Mirage]

Astarelle had been torn between watching Breaker's death-defying stunt and the Abomination's impending melee, so she hadn't fully grasped her own looming bisection until Arden's blood-slick gauntlet grabbed her shoulder. Wetness, vile and dead. Her body went limp in protest, but she did not go down to her knees. The carpet of vitae gave her too little traction for that. Instead, with a grunt, she squatted her barely-covered bottom onto her heels and braced her back ever so slightly off the ground with one outstretched hand and her staff, pinched between elbow and ribs vertically, as a brace.

The cable snapped overhead, caught a subtle ridge in the iron-hard reed, and yanked it from her grip. She actually squawked as it left her tight grip, taking a bit of skin along for the ride, and clumsily braced her abandoned elbow down against the spattered stone.

Keeping one hand planted on the ground, she popped herself up and off her elbow where the sand tattoo already sloughed off wetly, including a small amount of dry sand to scrub the area clean and keep the moisture from spreading. A similar cleansing took place at her shoulder where Arden's gore-print marked his saving gesture. The foot that bore most of her weight remained pinned under her rump, and the other slid outward to balance. It might have been an alluring pose if she wasn't so clearly avoiding contact with the floor.

Arden's shout was a faint, distracting buzz as she watched her staff ride the cable toward the abomination... or where he had been.

Right arm has been cleaned of blood. Sand lost at elbow and shoulder. Left palm is still planted in the blood.

The staff is riding the cable the rest of the way, possibly aimed at either Jensen or Draug. If anyone describes it flying over the edge, please add that it rebounds in the air as she desperately summons it back.

[Hysteria]

They were all here, players ready to strut their stuff at the whim of the puppet master Sei. The youth knew his part to play, which lines were his and which weren’t. But that didn't mean that he was going to play by them. Arrogant isn't something that Talen aspires for, but it sure was something he was. He was determined to make the most of the opportunity, to cast himself as more than a fretting soliloquy. He wanted to be seen, to be respected. The simple act then of Jensen dumping his jacket over the youth’s head carried slightly more significance than intended.Talen had seen his mutated opponent spray its own blood into the air, leaving the kid both frustrated and grateful at being covered by the jacket.

The coat was heavy, confirming and dark. It contained the immortal's weapons, and one in particular instantly stood out to Talen. Peaking out from under the jacket to make sure that the spray had ended, Talen pulled back the coat and jumped to his feet. In his hands was the maul, Crozius.

The effect on the youth was instant, the power of the maul flowing through him, coursing through his veins and pumping up his limbs. The power felt incredible, a surge through his body. It took as the youth had to keep a lid on his emotions, to keep the calm smile and relaxed posture. The youth moved to follow Jensen, his feet squeching on the blood that now coated the roof. The youth let his eyes flick towards the others, an almost instinctive glance to make sure that everyone was accounted. He noted with joy that everyone bar Arden had focused on Draug. At least nearly everyone.

Talen stopped in his tracks Where is that bastard Joshua? he thought. The only thing remaining where he had been was a cable tied around one of the stones and Arden. Alarm bells roared in Talen’s head as Arden roared for Asterelle to get down. Talen instinctively did the same, the cable whipping above his head. The movement was unnecessary as the cable was much higher than the youth, and even had he been standing his short stature and the flick of the cable would have passed over him unscathed.

The youth eyed the Breaker warily as he reappeared, this was his first time facing the beast and the stories seemed true. Talen’s grip tightened on the hammer, his metal claws scratching against the handle. The moment passed, and Talen turned back to Jensen. His hand lifted, sending a blast of shadows from his open palm at and then around the immortal. They twisted around his body and formed a dark echoing illusion around his limbs. For each movement there were echoes of others, creating a discord of actions and movements. The youth had given the immortal a sort of camouflage, a cloak of shadows that would act over the immortals movements. One punch would look like three, each moving in slightly different directions and hopefully requiring different actions to block. Talen gripped his warhammer again as he edged around Draug, making sure he kept an eye on Joshua.

Talen unnecessary ducks under the cable, returns the favour to Jensen by casting an illusion that’ll make it harder for people to track his movements.

[Abomination]

Permission from Enigmatic Immortal obtained.

Draug watched intently as his bloody theatrics failed to catch anyone off guard. All of them seemed intimately aware of Draug's intentions, and worse yet they were honed onto him like a pack of wolves. Jensen once again started one of his famous suicide charges, feeling no fear for what might happen to his immortal body. The Abomination realized that the caliber of his opponents could make short work of him, but he did not expect Jensen's commitment to the attack. Rather than dodging or preparing a counter-attack, Draug did the next best thing: He got tackled.

Both the Immortal and the Abomination were sent flying off the tower, Jensen detaching himself before Draug could get a grip. They were both sent flying toward the ground, with Jensen acknowledging Arden's feelings on the way down with a smile and a wink.

Draug threw his right arm at the tower, stretching it as fast as he could. He fell so fast that he was halfway down by the time his hand reached it. With his strength, he pierced through the stone and stopped his descent, sending the rest of his body crashing into the stone wall. The stone cracked and pebbles fell to the ground, with Draug's elongated right arm firmly wedged into the mess of stone above. He looked down and saw the Immortal's body, who apparently did not have a particularly graceful landing, but the Cult's Champion knew better than to assume his death. No, it would take much more than that to put Jensen out of commission.

The Abomination punched through the stone of the tower with his left hand and held on tightly while he ripped his right arm out of the tower above. It returned to its original size, but everything beyond his forearm was mangled and bloody. He quickly climbed down by kicking holes in the tower to use as steps and jumped off when he was near the ground.

Jensen's corpse was still prone, but Draug noticed the familiar green aura surround the Immortal. Running at him, the Abomination ripped a sword from his left hand, leaving it bloody and the skin from whence it came tattered. He sought to pierce the Immortal's heart before he could fully revive.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The immortal flew off the edge of the tower without fear. He had done it several times before and from taller perches than the lookout. He trained in the path of the Wind, using the current to give him safe landing even from such a monstrous height. True, he had fallen to his death on several occasions, but since the Night of Debauchery the knight had never failed to land on his feet, no worse for the ware.

This would not be one of those times, however.

Jensen awoke with a start, eyes bloodshot from his abrupt landing on the floor. The green power of his undying energy washed around him as blood flowed to his limbs once more. Shooting pains sparked his nerves as circulation returned to them and wearily he got his brain thinking quickly once more.

He flew off the edge, tackling Draug off and over and to the floor of the arena, he used his limbs to save himself dumping the immortal off to his own death. He used his Leaf on the Wind trick to land upon the ground with enough force to not destroy him and he was waking back up. That could mean only one thing as he took in the information at a rapid rate.

Hairs on his neck sprung to life and he rolled with the swiftness of a fleeting deer, avoiding the lunge into his heart as Draug impaled the sword all the way to the hilt in the dirt. Jensen looked up at the abomination and leered at his foe, building up a wad of spit and loosing it in the bastard’s eye. He rolled on his back and kicked in a wide circle looking to trip the creature and raise himself to a standing position. In the same motion he pulled out his fighting gloves with the steel plates and tossed them into his mouth, rising upwards to his full height and shifting from one foot to the other in a rhythmic manner, flowing in dance of the fight. He spat his gloves to his hands, the leather tasting dry and rugged on his tongue. They creaked as he flexed his fingers into them, pushing them all the way down against his fingertips.

He was ready to let loose now. There was no Joshua Cronen, there was no Hound, no bed wetter or scantily clad womanly distractions. There was just a monster, and an Immortal, and a field of battle between them. Draug had seen an enraged, grief stricken immortal. He had seen a desperate, humbled knight. But Draug had not seen Jensen fight with purpose. Not yet. But that was all about to change.

He maneuvered himself like a darting snake, his movements precise and loose all at the same time. He danced across the dirt and grass, letting the blades sway with him as the wind picked up around him like a lover in a passionate Salsa routine. He hopped back and forth, each movement smooth in transition as well as abrupt and wild. To see Jensen move now was unlike anytime he moved before. There was no slouch to his posture. There was no holding back.

“I fight with purpose,” Jensen whispered. “I fight with my all,” he continued. “I fight to define who I am and in the conflict of battle I learn why I am immortal. This is my pride as a warrior, and why I fight with my all. So dance with me, Draug Remi, and maybe you’ll learn the pride of a warrior too.” His prayer said, Jensen opened his narrow eyes, mouth gaping in a stupid grin as the giggles came out in rough, fits of laughter.

Jensen moved with all his speed, all his agility, and launched a series of kicks in a flurry of motion. “Keep up if you can, Draug!”

((Jensen has utilized his stored EX move to increase the strength of his attacks by 1 STR value. He’s hitting harder, and moving with his full swiftness. Jensen has used his Undying Immortality [1 of 2] Jensen has used his second Leaf On the Wind. [2 of 3]))

[Breaker]

As Breaker's feet splatted onto fetid granite he summoned water from the atmosphere around him. Clean clear liquid seeped outwards from his corner, flooding across some of the rooftop in a thin film and absorbing the Abomination's diseased blood.

Enough of their squabbling, Josh thought as he peered over the parapet at Jensen and Draug, those two can hire a private chamber after the event. The Cell is no place to slake personal wrath. He twanged the dehlar cable thoughtfully. His path had strung the thick wire taut around the western ramparts, like the ropes of a prizefighting ring. He added another double loop to his anchor stone. The last thirty five feet of cable piled in the corner and connected to Cronen like a tail. He had wrapped the final few yards wrapped about his shoulders and torso in a makeshift harness. The coils had squeezed around his denim gi like a metal hand juicing a lemon. His ribs ached, already bruised where Jake's tonfa had encouraged him to fight.

Josh took time for two long measured breaths as he leaned against the parapet, watching the duel below with one eye and monitoring the opponents on the rooftop in his periphery. He saw Roht's staff sail back up and over the edge toward its owner. The water finished cleansing the rooftop and receded to roil at Breaker's feet, brown with blood, forming deadly shapes and freezing. As the lataro stick slapped into Roht's sun-darkened hand, twenty flechette darts rose into the air around Cronen.

The Breaker who had met the young Fallieni in the Ella Chamber would have been distracted by her showy display of stockinged legs. But he knew there was no room for error atop Sei's final towering arena. He'd seen the unpredictable danger of the Abomination and the Immortal in the Felicity Chamber. Those previous victories would mean nothing when the last bell tolled. Above all else he knew to press the attack when an opponent took a blow. Only dead men stop fighting, he reminded himself, and Jensen doesn't stop even for that.

The flechettes finished forming. They zipped over the parapet and down toward the duelists. Each dart was a cruel pound of steely red-brown ice laced with diseased blood. Without time to focus on driving the bodkin points and sharpened flanges straight toward their targets, Josh directed a hail of ten in the general direction of each of his grounded opponents. Trusting gravity and the flechettes' streamlined shape to finish the task, he returned his full attention to the rooftop.

The boy who's black unkempt hair danced in time with the darkness about his wrists could only be Talen Shadowalker. The youngest and most surprising of the Ixian Nine, he gripped a borrowed weapon as Cronen had gripped the cable during his gut-wrenching fall. The red haired swordsman who'd taken the brunt of the bloodbath was Arden Janelle, Josh had heard tales of the monster hunter, had even fought him long ago in a four-against-one Citadel match. The Hound looked older and worn but moved with a quickness and grace that lightened his years. And that sense of propriety and purpose remained intact. He seemed smitten with Roht, but he'd called her...

"Astarelle," Josh said, tasting each syllable of the name and finishing with a flourish of adept Fallien accenting. He stepped away from the corner, one foot falling on the door he'd detached in his entrance. "Talen," he continued, keeping his back to the west and pivoting to glimpse the pile of loose cable in the corner. "Arden," he finished, and then reached up and drew his greatsword.

Rythadine left her sheathe with a rasp of dragonscale and a prevaldia sheen. Crafted around the body of a trusted bastard sword, the long broad blade shone blue beneath the sun, her heavy dehlar handle clasped comfortably in two callused hands.

Josh cut the air once, a long diagonal slash that split his vision of each opponent. Rythadine sheared through the corner of a granite parapet at the end of the sweep. Tang! The tiny stone pinwheeled toward the ground far below, leaving Breaker before three warriors. His right hand rested against his hip, his left held Rythadine in an unwavering grip. The glimmering blade pointed behind him to the northwest. A salute to the ocean where his Lady waited for happy news.

Josh addressed the trio with a friendly smile that showed his Y-shaped dimples.

"Attack me... with all the powers you possess."

Had permission to bunny the staff to Astarelle's hand. My, it's nice to finally get to call her that.

[Abomination]

Hysteria, I don't know what you did. I tried to find the ability you used on Jensen in your profile, but I didn't see anything. I don't know how long it lasts or any other details about the ability. I'm going to make some assumptions about it in order to make a post, but I would really like some clarification. Also, I have obtained unlimited permission for the rest of the round to bunny Jensen.

Draug struck down, but the Immortal was already up and about. Jensen spit in the Abomination's eye and swept Draug's legs from under him with a kick. Draug tumbled, landing on his back and smacking his head into the ground. He was too late to put the Immortal to sleep, and as he got back to his feet, Jensen was already swaying back and forth, building momentum. There was something more to his movements, as if he was moving so fast that there were multiple Jensens.

What... ?

The Abomination swung his sword, but Jensen's speed made the attack look like it was in slow motion. He started kicking at Draug, and the Abomination intended to avoid the kicks when he noticed there were more than one coming at him at the same time. In the confusion, he took a shot to the ribs got the wind knocked out of him. Jensen followed it up with a series of kicks, each one more ferocious than the last, and for once he was pushing Cassandra's son back. Each kick sent Draug reeling, giving him bursts of pain in his chest, his neck, his shoulders, and his thighs. He was pushed back to the outer wall of the tower, where Jensen really laid into him, cackling like a maniac. The stone behind Draug cracked and shook, each kick embedding the Abomination further into the architecture.

Only one of the attacks is real? The rest are illusions...

"What's wrong baby, can't keep up?" He spun around and roundhouse kicked Draug in the side, forcing the Abomination to spit up blood and saliva. Draug attempted to swing the sword again, but only received a kick to his arm in response, sending the sword flying into the ground. Jensen hopped backwards and bent his knees. "I don't need immortality to keep getting back up. All I need is to think of all the people that believe in me!"

Draug spit out another drop of blood and said in a low, guttural voice, "I tire of your prattle."

For his retort, he received a jumping double dropkick, which sent him through the rest of the stone wall and into the tower itself. He felt one of his ribs crack from the attack. The Draug-shaped section of the wall crumbled and dust rose up, temporarily blinding the Immortal. Jensen jumped in after him, expecting to find Draug on the ground covered in debris, but the Abomination was on his right with a mace in his left hand, swinging it upwards at the Immortal. Jensen dodged just in time, the mace grazing his cheek and flicking blood onto the Abomination. The mace continued its pace and crashed into the stone above the opening, causing it to crack and cave in to close the entrance.

The darts which were en route to the fighters crashed into the caved in stone from the outside. Inside, they both found themselves in the bottom floor of the tower, which was rather plain except for a large wooden door and the start of a spiral staircase in the corner. Draug, grew a pair of arms from his hips with a steel sword in each hand, and one of them chopped off his mangled right hand, allowing a new hand to grow in its place. With his two original arms back up and running, he reached into his throat and pulled out two more steel swords, passing off the mace to a new arm that grew directly from the back of his neck. He extended his original arms so that the blades faced his right and left, and then extended his extra arms so that they faced his front and back.

The blood that the mace retrieved was enough for Draug to assimilate Jensen, giving him a small boost of speed and a flood of fragmented memories. He pushed aside the familiar sensation, knowing he had no time for them.

Tch, those kicks actually did some damage to me. He felt nerves all over his body take damage, limiting his movements. He looked at his surroundings and such a closed-off location gave him an advantage. With his weapons pointing in all four directions, he started spinning around at a rapid pace. Like a spiky top, he spun towards Jensen at an increasing speed. The arm with the mace on top also spun around at a slower pace, its purpose to keep Jensen from attacking him from above.

All the while, he wondered whether or not Memnar lied to him. The alchemist made it sound as though they already attempted Draug's discovery, but if that was the case then he should have known about it. What purpose would they have to keep him in the dark? Did they know that he had ulterior motives? It was not likely. Perhaps Memnar was right, and the only true method of ascension was through enough assimilations, mixing and matching traits for the perfect combination.

Yet, something stirred deep within him. Once again assimilating Jensen's memories gave him more resolve. Even the Abomination felt a twinge of pride in what he was, and what he could be.

[Hysteria]

That bastard..

Talen watched as Jensen and Draug flung themselves over the edge of the tower. The youth's face was cold, annoyed even as they went about their own squabble once again. The youth had put up with this in the first match, and now again. Talen took a deep breath to calm himself down, turning his eyes instead to Joshua.

“Ugh...” was all the youth could manage at the Breaker's challenge. Talen lifted a clawed finger towards his opponent and resting the maul on his shoulder in as dramatic a pose as he could manager. “At least you appear good at cleaning. After this could you give my room a once over?”

Talen paused for a second, his finger moving from Joshua's direction to the kid's chin as a thought entered his mind. “Just stay out of the bottom draw of my desk...” he said, a flash of colour lifting to his cheeks. Without realising it, his eyes drifted over to Astarelle's scantly clad form. Talen quickly looked down and coughed into his hand as if to dismiss the thoughts in his head.

His eyes lifted back to Breaker. From the small of Talen's back burst into existence six long tails, each one lifting into the air as bundles of barely contained muscle, twisting and moving like the tentacles of a octopus. The youth bent low one hand gripping at the corners of the stone work ground and his feet digging in. The appendage shot out behind him and latched onto one of the huge stones forming the parapet. The stone groaned as the tentacles ripped it out rocketed back towards Talen with stone in tow.

The huge stone, over 200kg, flicked towards Joshua as the shadowy tentacles released their hold. The youth instantly reversed his hold, pushing his feet and hand into the ground and launching himself after the stone. Boy and rock moved through the air, with Talen reaching the stone with the maul in hands. With all the might he could muster he smashed the maul into the stone, cracking the stone into easily a dozen fragments hurtling with even more speed towards their target. The youth lost control of himself, careering to the side and hitting the ground. The shadowy tails took most of the impact, reacting and pushing Talen back onto his feet in an instant, if a little disorientated from the manoeuvre. The only thing the youth could think of during the whole thing was how much he needed to steal the maul from Jensen. His eyes spun took a second to regain focus, and his shirt rode up his side revealing pale, slightly grazed side. The rush was intense.

[Arden]

Seeing that Astarelle was safe, Arden turned his attentions elsewhere. The combatants had as expected formed clichéd alliances. Draug and Jensen locked together. With piercing eyes, the swordsman turned to Talen Shadowalker, and his prone state. He sighed. As he broke into a run towards the shadow mage, he muttered an apology. Feigning an attack was Arden’s means to an end.

“I know I said I wouldn’t…,” he mumbled.

He would let Talen live out of professional curtsy. With so much at stake, he had to put on pretences to the other combatants. When the gap between them closed, he shoulder barged the air. His cloak vanished in a cloud of red mist, revealing the bulwark of his armour in all its bestial glory.

“Oi, kiddo!” he roared.

The Mastiff erupted from his pauldron, and with a mighty roar, its front paws crashed against the wet stone. Its hind legs kicked into a calamitous charge at the grazed side of its prey.

“Look sharp!”

Over the Mastiff’s effervescent body, Talen would see Arden approach. He held the Fang out at a forty-five degree angle to his right. His armour weighed him down enough to gain traction on the slippery surface, and centuries of running after, and from prey kept his muscles tight and balance steady.

[Roht Mirage]

((Bunny approved.))

Astarelle matched Talen's snark with a display of her own. She flicked the moisture on her clean palm in Breaker's direction, as elegantly and poignantly as a duchess returning a soiled handkerchief. She spun a half circle and thrust one hip, along with the long slant of a leg, in his direction. “Don't bother with my room, Breaker dear,” she slipped in cattily after Talen, “You're not allowed there. For any reason.” She gave her staff a spin and stopped it above her head, sloping shallowly down past her coy smile. Her hands both held its center, causing her elbows to arc high and exaggerate just how much of her was -not- covered. She caught Talen's glance, and realized at that moment how human he was. Not just a shadow. Or, at least, he was a shadow that could blush.

Well, if I can't get any praise for my fighting ability, there's still-

Talen led the attack, catching her off guard by displaying his powers in a way that she hadn't seen in the last arena. My shadow, she told herself, Darkness to my sand. She would still rather not stare directly at his tentacles. With the spectacle of maul-versus-stone nearing its thunderous climax overhead, she was perhaps the only one who looked elsewhere.

Breaker was stupidly clever. She knew from experience. Anything could become a weapon in his hands; even a whole sand-blasted person when he had the opportunity. She eyed the frameless door under his feet, the coil of wire well out of their reach, even the cleanly-cut stone chunk near him. For his sword: barely a glance. She knew how he would use that.

With a deathly crack, her guardian shadow launched the first volley, and her adrenaline spiked so forcefully that her hair would have stood on end if not for the braid. She rolled her staff to a lower position, ready to surrender to instinct, ready to charge wherever she was needed...

And spun to kick an ethereal hound right under its ribs as it passed. A bone noisily crunched against the iron plate in her shoe, and the beast's frantic feet found nothing but air for two strides. She heard it land. She heard it scrabble back to full speed. But, she couldn't look. Her eyes were locked on Arden's. Hot, dangerous. Looking through the lines of drying red like a prisoner with face pressed to the bars.

“Do you want a repeat of last time?” she shouted point-blank with her staff wedged horizontally across his breastplate. She didn't brace herself for a sword strike. If he took the chance, it was over. But, she had heard something earlier. He had called her name... with real feeling. Whatever good mood has taken you, don't let it end now. She leaned closer. His breath was like pressure venting. “This is a dance for three... or nothing.”

“Talen?” she called over her shoulder without looking. She wanted the knight to see the concern in her eyes. Perhaps unnecessarily, she added a breathy, “I'm not a dog person,” and just left the connotations of that up to his imagination.