A Battle in the Roman Colleseum (Closed)

[Destrudo]

A nice pleasant day at the citadel. Birds were chirping happily, people came and went, some victors, some losers, the rest were the monks of Aibrone.
Silence seemed to decend rather quickly as a new combatant made his way to the Citadel. He was an imposing, if not frightening sight, being seven feet tall. His muscels were as oversized as he was. He wore Black leather, and all around him was a Crimson aura. It matched his hair and eyes. His skin was unnaturally white, as though he had spent much of his life in darkness.
He spied the monks going to and fro. One particularly tall brother walked over to the newcomer.

"You seem ready for a challenge." The Monk said.
"Heh, are you strong? I desire Death and destruction. I want blood, and gore. I wish to inflict pain and suffering on all around me, and soon I shall. I want your strongest warrior to meet me in battle, as the Gladiators did at The Roman Colleseum, there to battle to the death, for only the strong deserve to live." Destrudo said, grabbing the Monk by his robes and lifting him off the ground. Many people gasped in shock. There were some things you just did not do, even as a villain.

"I can help you with this, but if you do not set me back down and release me, I will rip your arms from their sockets and beat you to death with with them, then let you rot away on the steps. Do you understand me?" The monk said quietly. You could've heard a pin drop a mile away it was so quiet.

Appearently Destrudo understood the monk, because he set him down and released him.

"Heh, your strong, don't disapoint me, or I'll have to find out if you can back your threats up." Destrudo said. His voice, there was something unnatural about it. Many people decided now would be a good time to leave. The monk looked at his brothers and smiled. He lead Destrudo through corridors and up the floors of the Citadel, and into a room.

Destrudo walked through the inky blackness, and squinted as the light of noon hit him. Time seemed frozen in place, as a sparrow high in the sky never once moved, just a frozen blur of motion.

Destrudo found himself in The Colleseum of Rome, and he walked around looking at its design, its world famous Architecture surrounding him from all sides. It was 48 meters tall, 189 meters long, and 156 meters wide. It was the first amphitheatre to be entirely freestanding, having been constructed on flat ground, instead of into a hillside or natural depression. The Outer wall was 545 Meters long and constructed with over 100,000 Cubic Meters of Travertine Stone and held together by 300 Iron Clamps.

The Outer Wall's monumental façade comprised three stories of superimposed arcades surmounted by a podium on which stood a tall attic, both of which were pierced by windows interspersed at regular intervals. The arcades were framed by half-columns of the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders, while the attic was decorated with Corinthian pilasters. Each of the arches in the second- and third-floor arcades framed statues, honoring divinities and other figures from Classical mythology.

Two hundred and forty mast corbels were positioned around the top of the attic. They supported a retractable awning, known as the velarium, that kept the sun and rain off spectators. This consisted of a canvas-covered, net-like structure made of ropes, with a hole in the center. It covered two-thirds of the arena, and sloped down towards the center to catch the wind and provide a breeze for the audience.

They were seated in a tiered arrangement that reflected the rigidly stratified nature of Roman society. Special boxes were provided at the north and south ends respectively for the Emperor and the Vestal Virgins, providing the best views of the arena. Flanking them at the same level was a broad platform or podium for the senatorial class, who were allowed to bring their own chairs.

The tier above the senators, known as the maenianum primum, was occupied by the non-senatorial noble class or knights. The next level up, the maenianum secundum, was reserved for ordinary Roman citizens and was divided into two sections. The lower part (the immum) was for wealthy citizens, while the upper part (the summum) was for poor citizens. Specific sectors were provided for other social groups: for instance, boys with their tutors, soldiers on leave, foreign dignitaries, scribes, heralds, priests and so on. Stone seating was provided for the citizens and nobles, who brought their own cushions with them. Inscriptions identified the areas reserved for specific groups.

Each tier was divided into sections (maeniana) by curved passages and low walls (praecinctiones), and were subdivided into cunei, or wedges, by the steps and aisles from the vomitoria. Each row (gradus) of seats was numbered, permitting each individual seat to be exactly designated by its gradus, cuneus, and number.

The arena itself was 83 metres by 48 metres. It comprised a wooden floor covered by sand, covering an elaborate underground structure called the hypogeum. It consisted of a two-level subterranean network of tunnels and cages beneath the arena where gladiators and animals were held before contests began. Eighty vertical shafts provided instant access to the arena for caged animals and scenery pieces concealed underneath; larger hinged platforms, called hegmata, provided access for elephants and the like.

Destrudo looked closer at the citizens of Rome and their emporer, they were all Transparent, as though they were Ghosts. He looked and estimated roughly 50,000 of them, all of them ghostly copies of The Monks and random Althanian citizens. Emporer Vespasian was the real Imperator Caesar Vespasianus Augustus, though he too was a ghostly Transparent.

Destrudo was impressed at the level of detail these monks could accomplish.

He waited in the center of the Arena for his opponet.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina Bredith would probably not be the first person in Corone who could tell you not to mess with the warrior monks of Ai’brone. Things of legends, those men were: beasts in combat possessing unsurpassed illusionary and restorative abilities, enough to make people often whisper about where they had come from and what their real purpose was. Of course, Christina would also not be the first person to ask.

It was an unusual tradition that the monks were, despite their awe-inspiring abilities, quite pacifistic, and more than happy to let the Citadel’s patrons do the heavy lifting – that was, after all, precisely what brought them into its walls. And so, when a budding young competitor physically threatened a monk, the sons of Ai’Brone did not take up arms against him. Where would be the sport in that? No – instead, they granted the man’s request, and cast their gazes outward to search for one of the nation’s finer warriors.

Perhaps fittingly, for the monks themselves often looked like little more than feeble, balding men, this warrior took the shape of a pretty young woman only a few years older than Destrudo. Her hair was a river of gold tumbling playfully down her shoulders and back, and the face it framed was inlaid with the most alluring and peculiar argent eyes you had ever seen. The scent that followed this buxom maiden was not unlike that of an orchard in full bloom, fragrant but not overpowering.

As Christina finally strode forth from the subterrane, the sunlight gleamed proudly off the thin golden tracings on her red jacket, a military uniform with a uniquely feminine touch. Hanging from her waist was a rather dull leather scabbard. It obscured a blade, the only visible part of which was a hilt and cross guard with the shattered remnant of what was once a no-doubt flawless red jewel on the pommel. This fragment, too, caught the light, and gleamed peculiarly like fresh blood and fine wine at the same time, matching the exotic shade of her painted lips.

The woman’s opponent would have been easy enough to find even if the colosseum’s arena wasn’t markedly devoid of obstacles. She had to admit, Destrudo was a rather hulking mass of flesh, but even the scarlet aura that bellowed from his very skin was not enough to deter her. It was easy to picture him bullying the monks – he stood a good two feet taller than many of them – but that in itself was a poor indicator of his abilities. Ironically enough, those same monks acutely and constantly demonstrated that those with true strength do not find need to flaunt it.

The scene unfolding on the arena floor must have been unusual to witness for the ghostly spectators: Destrudo was a hulking tower of malice, while Christina brilliantly played the part of the innocent, pretty lady-warrior. Her expression was difficult to read, though: she did not enter with obvious naiveté on her face, but neither did she look so serious that she seemed about to burst from concentration. Still, one thing was abundantly obvious to the crowd, and this pleased them: the blonde gladiator was reaching for her blade. She was ready to fight.

“I hear you've been picking on those sweet, harmless old men,” Christina admonished once she was within earshot of her opponent. It was difficult to ignore the growing coldness in the air as she approached, as though she would soon be unable to recall even her happiest memories. For now, at least, she could not let this dissuade her. A light smirk tugged at her features and she revealed Rosebite, the gleaming damascus weapon with coloured rune-gems decorating its flat.

“If that's your game," she continued with waspish amusement, "I should be right up your alley."

[Destrudo]

The Crowd was cheering, appearently they could see the two of them getting ready to fight. Destrudo smiled, and cracked his knuckles.

"Heh, are you strong? we shall soon find out, but now come, let us bow before the Emporer, it would be impolite to do otherwise." Destrudo said, his voice causing most of the audience to be silent. Destrudo turned and bowed to the Emporer, and whether Christina did or not, he did not care. He happened to have seen creatures in the area beneath them, and he suspected The Emporer might decide to randomly use one of them if he got bored of the battle. Bowing at least might sway his decision to be merciful in this event.

Afterwards, he turned to Christina, and smiled again.

The Emporer gave the sign to start, and Heralds blow their horns signaling the start, the crowd cheering. Before they could even finish Destrudo Rushed in close and aimed three puches at Christina, one for the Right Shoulder, one for the left shoulder, and an Uppercut for the Jaw, finishing with a powerful Kick to the Midsection.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina raised an eyebrow at her opponent’s uncharacteristically polite words, and ignored the impulse to venture that, since the emperor and his audience were all quite obviously dead, they really wouldn’t care whether she bowed to them or not. It wasn’t worth the expended energy to provoke her opponent so early into the match, though, so she obliged, bowing only as long as Destrudo did to avoid the possibility that he was forcing her into an unguarded state. When in Rome…

Destrudo certainly wasted no time in attacking once the horns had blown, but it wasn’t his speed that caught Christina off-guard. It was that aura, or perhaps something in his voice, that made the whole world seem somewhat less comfortable. This had caused only a momentary lapse in Christina’s judgment, but it was enough that her pale opponent’s punch connected squarely with her right shoulder. This spun her body slightly clockwise, in such a way that she was more easily able to step away from his second punch now that she was ready for it, even if the attack had caused a tingling sensation when it connected. Now standing with her body completely perpendicular to Destrudo’s, it was an easy task to hop backward and allow his uppercut to sail harmlessly past her polished nose.

When he aimed a kick at her midsection, it was time to retaliate. Everything was happening too quickly for her to react with Rosebite, but she was able to use her free hand to impede Destrudo’s leg, and then force it away using her full strength. Turning quickly on her pointed heel, she lashed out at the man with a frontward kick aimed at his stomach, but whether it connected was inconsequential: she had created a much-needed gap that would give her a little time to react to Destrudo’s next move, and launch a counterattack of her own.

Christina’s strongest advantage here, she knew, was that Rosebite could be used as effectively at long range as it could in close combat. Destrudo’s fists – as far as she had gathered so far – could not. Keeping that distance between them would give her an early advantage before closing in for the kill. Even then, she was sure that a swordswoman would have a clear advantage over an unarmed combatant.

“I don’t like hitting unarmed men,” she boasted, massaging her right shoulder gently, “but fifty thousand people would like to see me make an exception. I hope emasculation isn’t a big problem for you.”

The blonde flourished her weapon suddenly, directing its tip at Destrudo’s chest. In a crystal clear voice she cried, “Scream, Rosebite!” A silvery gem near the tip of the sword flared to life along with the orange rune carved within. Rosebite’s entire length flashed brilliant blue for a second, and then a bolt of pure energy raced forward. If it connected, it would do so with all the grace of an elephant in heat: a good, hard smack to the ribs and a theft of air from the lungs.

At the very least, the crowd seemed pleased. Brutality had commenced, just as between legions of others in the long history of this arena. As they say, when in Rome…

[Destrudo]

When Christina tried to kick him in the Midsection, he chuckled and laughed openly as he caught her foot, held on tight, and smashed his Elbow down on her Kneecap hard enough to shatter the entire Kneejoint, and if this attack worked, it would effectivly cripple her. Then the Light Hit hit him and the air left his lungs. He was surprised, and his chest was sore. He went down to his knees.

In his minds eye, The Shadows moved, and enveloped Christina. He could hear his Father's mocking laugh.

"What's the matter boy, are you so weak your going to let a mere woman take you down?"

Destrudo stood, the air restored to his lungs. Christina could see rage building in his face.

"You might be my father, but I killed you once you Son of a bitch and I can kill you again. I will not be defeated so Easily. I'm not as weak as you think I am." He yelled, speaking in Christina's Direction, Of course he wasn't speaking to Christina, he was speaking to the Delusional image had had placed over Christina in his mind.

His Red Aura was rippling, and he moved with all the extra speed an Adreniline rush could give. He went to deliver a Roundhouse kick straight to Christina's Head.

[Christina Bredith]

Admittedly, Destrudo’s attack had taken Christina by surprise, but because her kick was little more than an attempt to distance herself from her opponent, his crushing elbow ended up doing little more than grazing her shin as she managed to struggle away from his grasp by twisting her body and flourishing Rosebite. She was, after all, kicking herself backward more than rushing forward with the attack. Better yet, her Sonic Sable had connected, knocking the wind out of her opponent momentarily and putting yet more space between the two fighters.

Christina’s contemplation of her next move was immediate, but it was halted by a most peculiar behaviour in Destrudo: he was talking to her, threatening her, and strangest of all, calling her his father. “Good gracious,” she whispered to herself, absolutely bewildered. “Batty as a drunken dwarf.” The woman shook her head in disapproval and disbelief.

However, there was, as always, little time for pondering her opponent’s newfound insanity, as he rushed forward immediately to press another attack. “And as dangerous as one, too!” Briefly curse herself though she did for having given Destrudo those three seconds of senseless dialogue in the first place, she quickly noticed a gaping hole in his offense. The wraith’s leg was aimed high, so much so that Christina was able to easily duck underneath it and suffer no more damage than a couple of split-ended hairs.

She wasn’t about to lose this advantage, and did Destrudo one better. As she ducked, Christina’s body spun, and she swept a wide arc through the low air with Rosebite. The blade bit at the leg upon which her opponent was balanced, and it was her intent to strike him before he could finish his kick, knocking his calf right out from under him.

Not pausing to witness the outcome of her gambit, Christina rolled forward as soon as her back was to Destrudo, which was about halfway through her own spin. Even if Rosebite hadn’t connected as she had hoped – even if Destrudo possessed some inhuman reflexes that she had not counted on – he would have at least had to pull off some uncanny dodge that would have given her an opening to put more space between them. That space was exactly and solely what she needed.

“Rumble, Rosebite!” This time an amber gemstone further down the blade flickered to life, and as Christina stood upright again, she spun once more to face Destrudo and slammed the tip of the blade into the dusty colosseum floor. The ground shuddered briefly in a shockwave with Rosebite at its centre; it wasn’t enough to cause any damage to the surroundings, but it certainly took a few nearby spectators off their guard, and Christina knew it might do the same to an unsuspecting Destrudo.

That was not the crux of this maneuver, however: soon afterwards, the ground in front of her opponent unveiled a spire of thorny vines. These jutted directly out of the sand and wood, as if by magic; they were twisted around one another to form a deadly-sharp point at their tip, and within a second of their appearance, they had lashed out at Destrudo’s chest, a scorpion’s tail masquerading as pretty, flowering rose-vines.

[Destrudo]

It did hit his leg, but he was protected by any real damage by his leather pants. He chuckled.

As the ground rumbled Destrudo leaped away into the stands, hearing a gate open. The Rumble may not have caused any damage, but it was enough to loosen open one of the gates in the floor, and from this Gate came a pack of hungry lions. These were not imaginary lions like the audience and Emporer, these were real flesh and blood Lion Clones, and they really could cause damage. However they were met by the rose vine that was striking out in Destrudo's direction, it brought one lion clone down, leaving two more on either side of Christina, and they were seconds away from pouncing.

Destrudo meanwhile went to the senator's gallery and threw a ghostly senator out of his plain wooden chair. He leaped down on the ground, and rushed over to smash her over the back of the head with it.
The Emporer was on the edge of his throne.

OOC: note that one good attack will easily dispatch a Clone Lion. The Creatures that randomly come out are more or less one hit wonders designed to be a distraction. Make no mistake, they can kill if you let them, but their primary purpose is distraction. Destrudo will be faced with some distraction's too.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina could only chuckle at the unexpected turn of events by which her Rumbling Rose had agitated and released three lions from their subterranean chambers. Two of them were prowling the arena, circling her as they prepared for their strike; the third was nothing more than a mangled corpse dangling atop a flowering spire of thorny vines. Blood trickled down the green, twisted spears, and the buds that were blossoming thereon seemed to drink it up almost happily.

“Pretty kitties,” the blonde warrior crooned, holding Rosebite again at her side. Naturally, the lions were not soothed. “You picked the wrong mouse to play with today.” She held the weapon aloft and said, with a triumphant, unaffected smile, “This one has teeth. Scatter, Rosebite!”

A ruby inlaid with another peculiar orange rune heeded Christina’s crystalline command, and on cue, Rosebite’s blade actually seemed to melt away. In its place, shards of metal danced around Christina as if upon the wind, and the way they glimmered in the sunlight, one might easily think them to be rose petals. The vast cloud of tiny fragments swirled slowly around Christina for a moment; the lions became interested and agitated by this new development. But as soon as they pounced, the swirling cloud increased slightly in intensity and spread itself out so that Christina was obscured within a vortex of beautiful carnage. Heavy cheers erupted from the crowd; the storm of petal-like blades tore into the lions as soon as they made contact, shredding their flesh and spraying blood in generous amounts behind them.

The gladiator of the roses barely even needed to move to thwart Destrudo’s next attack; in fact, she didn’t even need to see him at all. As her furious blade-storm died down, she noted that he was nowhere to be seen in front of her or in her peripheral vision. However, his footsteps could indeed be heard, and the crowd was not crying out in a way that would suggest disapproval at his disappearance. Therefore, there was but one avenue of attack available to him: her blind backside – or what he thought was her blind backside.

“Pretty crude, white boy,” she taunted. “But I guess tact is out the window at this point, huh?” Her argent eyes slid left and her head followed, catching the shredded remains of one of the lions. She was not able to see Destrudo, but she could definitely hear him. The cloud of metal shards immediately regrouped and gathered behind Christina; each shard hovered in place and spun furiously as if to shred the air itself. Upon contact, Destrudo would be mangled horribly; if he was able to react in time and step around the mincing barrier, Christina would have time to adjust to the change in plans and counter yet again.

The vixen had to admit, this was pretty fun. Destrudo was as stubborn as a high elf (and his arrogance wouldn’t exactly embarrass them, either), but she could tell he was too headstrong. She couldn’t wait to see how many tricks she would be able to pull out of her bag before this was all over. The monks of Ai’brone had been right in choosing this defender of Corone as their blade.

[Destrudo]

OOC: I must admit, this is the most fun I've ever had on the business end of an asskicking.

IC:

Destrudo couldn't stop in time to sidestep the barrier, so he increased his speed and charged into it throwing the chair off to the side. He gritted his teeth in pain as he reached through the barrier of shards to grab Christina by her Hair and throat. As Christina herself had noted he was stubborn and rather headstrong.

If he managed to grab her he would left her and turn 90 degrees to the side and slam her down spine first on the chair.

Otherwise he would fall over backwards from the unslaught of the shards.

Either way he rose to his feet quickly as a Bengal Tiger roared as it leaped upon him for an attack.

He grabbed the tiger in a headlock and proceeeded to literally rip the Tiger's head off its body.

He turned to Christina, the Crowd on its feet cheering, even the Emporer was on his feet. What would it take to bring down this strange beast of a man permanently? He was bleeding from many points on his body, and still he refused to go down. He hurled the Tiger's jead at Christina, and then grabbed it by the tail, swinging it at her to strike with its powerful claws, as their danced through the air.

It was clear though, even to the Emporer and the Ghostly spectators that Destrudo was on his last legs and attacking desperatly.

[Christina Bredith]

If there was one thing Christina had underestimated in this battle, it was the one thing she thought she was right on top of: just how headstrong Destrudo was. Not in a million years would she believe he might actually try and charge right through her barrier of grinding metal shards! It was a ballsy move: Destrudo would have to suffer some serious damage from that bit of foolishness, because these fragments were made of damascus, one of the best weapon-metals out there. Even so, Christina would later admit that the boy had probably found the cleverest solution to his predicament.

The blonde warrior had fully anticipated that Destrudo would weave around the blood-red wall, and that was what she was prepared for. The initial sound of little spinning blades quite noisily tearing through flesh was a bit of a surprise, but when she felt a fistful of her hair become wrapped between Destrudo’s fingers from behind, her concentration was shattered as completely as Rosebite was. At that moment, the shard-wall shuddered and fell out of formation, and then the hundreds of tiny blades danced through the air and reformed into Rosebite’s blade.

The next thing she knew was a moment of weightlessness followed by wave after wave of pain. Her body had been slammed onto the chair Destrudo was previously attempting to use as a weapon, and it was only because of her own frantic squirming that she was able to avoid what might have been a fatal spinal fragmentation. Even as it was, she was sporting a painful bruise near the back of the left side of her abdomen where the rings of chainmail had dug into her skin. Struggling to pick herself up off the floor, Christina noted that she had been granted a momentary but well-appreciated reprieve by a tiger that was now being ravaged by Destrudo’s firm hands.

By the time Christina was on her feet again, her opponent had deftly and brutally eviscerated the offending distraction. She batted aside the lobbed head with her newly-reformed Rosebite, and stepped back carefully as Destrudo began swinging the tiger’s bloody corpse like a morning star. He would not be able to advance too quickly with such a heavy load, but neither would she be able to easily get near him with such a heavy beast protecting him. While the easiest solution would probably be to wait until the great cat’s tail was ripped off, she didn’t really have that kind of time, and besides, it wasn’t her style.

Blood continued to pour from the tiger’s decapitated body as it spun, and try though she did to avoid it, it was inevitable that some of it would splash across her mother’s army uniform; though it could barely be seen against the red, it had still marred the immaculately beautiful gold patterns that decorated it. That, of course, was the last straw.

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” Christina hissed. She took a definitive step backwards and flourished Rosebite, crying, “Snare, Rosebite!” An emerald gem flickered to life, blindingly bright as it was catalyzed by Christina’s passionate fury. The ground all around Destrudo rumbled angrily, and no sooner than it had begun, a flurry of ropey vines sprung forth and lashed inwards at him. They sought to bind his legs, his arms, wrap around any inch of his body that they could find, and immobilize him; with the heavy tiger being swung ‘round his head, Christina hoped he would have no chance to evade this attack. Then it would just be a matter of dealing the final blow, and spilling enough blood to make up for this affront to her mother’s memory – not to mention her wardrobe.