(11) The Grander’s Order v (14) Blood Brothers

[Falcon Darkflight]

Canen was, to say the least, unimpressed by his opponent's lack of dignity. The Nocturn had watched with a careful eye as the sunlight had forced Nathanial to begin his movements, and Canen had looked on with a small satisfaction. After this pleasurable experience, his opponent had then spent his time cutting open his wound containing the snake venom and, in a sickening display, had cupped his own blood, his own lifeforce inbetween his palms in an attempt to use it as a weapon. By the time Nathanial was up to his feet and staggering across the floor, even to the point where it was more like a limping trot, Canen had already planned his counterattack.

I don't know what he thinks he is doing...what kind of a strategy is that?

His pale, smooth hand quickly drew The Valiance from its ivory sheath by his side, the metal sliding out accompanied by a shrill, ethereal metallic scraping that sounded almost calming to listen to, and he raised the flat, polished blade to a high angle. Using the bluntside of the sword he covered his eyes as the shower of potentially toxic blood spattered over his face, lips and scarlet robes. It felt digusting, like lukewarm, stagnant rainwater pattering against his face, only that the blood was carrying the lifeforce of the undead as well as the puss of the venom wound. He could feel the thick crimson liquid form larger streams as the droplets connected and they forked down his face in tiny rivers, before he used the back of his sleeve to wipe his profile clean. He was disgusted. He was insulted. He couldn't think of anything more humiliating. But more than anything, he was now far more determined to break this vamparic nancy boy in two, along with his feeble partner.

"You sicken me..." Canen accused, pointing a bloodstained finger at the offending undead. Nathanial's eyes and expression showed no remorse for his insulting attack and the manner in which he had undertaken it. The Nocturn, blade in hand, pressed forward slowly. His footsteps were slow, intimidating and pressurising down the red carpeted altar towards his foe, the boots pressing large prints into the silky texture of the carpet as he descended like the night on this walking joke that had dared to mock him with such a technique. "...the facade is over. No more games. No more toying around..." His rough, deep throated voice raised a notch as he twirled the polished braodsword from one hand to the other repeatedly, looping the blade through his hands like an act at the circus. His eyes narrowed and intensified in ambience as the looping became quicker and more precise. Nathanial was unarmed and although Canen usually had his reservations about attacking unarmed men he quickly overrid this with the desire for revenge for smothering his face in the foul blood.

It was said that Canen was the last of a dying faith. He had been one of the few Nocturnian warriors to follow the code of the sword. It identified him. It defined him. This silver broadsword was not just a piece of metal that had been forged by a blacksmith. It was not just a tool of war, or something as simple as a weapon to kill with. Or even, for that matter, a sword of justice either. No. It was much more than any of these combined. This sword was an extension of Canen's body and mind. For that, it was one of many things: a monument to his past, to remind him of his birthrights and the people he fought for every single day of his life, perhaps even subconciously. It was evidence of his present, that despite the best efforts of most of those he had encountered during his time who had tried to take his life, he was still surviving. It was a means to a purpose, a representation of the future he was carving for himself. All of these small things combined made Canen's affiliation with his weapon not just a combat-related affair, but a deeply rooted piece of religion that had been the entire cause of his upbringing. At the very least, the Nocturn had earned a reputation with his skills.

"You dare to have thrown the poisoned blood of the devil at me?" He roared, his eyes flaring with rage..."The devil is not welcome here!!"

A second's worth of a side-shot glance back at his partner allowed Canen to monitor Raelyse's progress. At first, it seemed like the ki beam had made a direct hit on the Prince, and a momentary second or two of fear and panic coursed through his veins at the thought of losing him. However, it wasn't long before reason and logic took over and the two magical powers emerged unscathed, clashing and locked in a stalemate. He uttered a slight chuckle as he watched the expression of Raelyse's face turn to one of near absolute boredom, yawning as Whealer tried everything he could to break the barrier. Suddenly, the Ki attack shattered the barrier and struck Raelyse chest on.

There was no more time to watch. Canen had to make his move at Nathanial.

He dashed at his opponent, his pale white Nocturnian flesh spattered in the blood of his enemy, and brought his sword with a mighty swing from left to right in a vicious spin. The edge of The Valiance was not blunt, it was very, very sharp, and was often compared to a katana in style despite its somewhat lumbering and heavy posture. To make things more gloomy for his undead rival, Canen was very effecient at using it.

[grim137]

“What the hell?”

Tarry couldn’t see the shield rise, didn’t recognize the spell his opponent had cast, and (despite being a former lieutenant in the Tel Aglarim) was almost completely ignorant toward Raieren song magic. This meant that for his ki beam to score a direct hit yet do so little damage (as Tarry could tell by sensing how his opponents spirit was effected) made little sense. The only logical conclusion that the blind and ever so arrogant vampire could come up with to explain such an event was that his opponent had some sort of special item or something that made his spirit magic do much less damage than it should have.

However for better or for worse Raelyse had absolutely no intention what so ever of letting the psychotic vampire dwell on such thoughts and proceeded to launch a counter attack almost immediately. The deadly vampire quickly spun around on the hill of his boot as he heard the loud, familiar whistling of a projectile moving at high speeds through the air. The deadly icy spear caught the vampire where his heart was and had it not been for the black, unrelenting delyn plate that covered his chest and back, the attack might have been fatal.

Instead of death all the attack managed to deliver to the livelike vampire was humiliation with a small side of pain. As the attack hit Tarry in mid turn, he was knocked off his balance and sent tumbling to dusty carpet floor. Now if there was one thing Tarry was a bit known for, it was his dramatic and sometimes seemingly unprovoked mood swings that seemed to be the most dominant of all his mental instabilities. It didn’t take much to turn a cocky vampire into a deadly, relentless blood thirsty one and that was exactly what Raelyse had just managed to successfully do.

With a snort that both served to get dust and a bit of frustration out of him the vampire once again began to call upon the spirit energy that flowed through him so freely, this time it was to his mouth. Of course, since the last energy attack proved so useless against his deceptively powerful opponent the target of the attack was the church itself or more specifically, the floor below him. The resulting explosion from the blast hitting the floor sent a thick shower of dust and debris into the air making it (for the time being anyways) hard to breath and even harder to see.

With a sinister smile that reflected the bloodlust that filled his mind, Tarry quickly drew both of his double edged, yew-handled, delyn daggers from the inside of his coat. This time there was no smart assed taunt to announce the attack, or any sharp-tongued insult to give his plan away because Tarry was no longer interested in toying with his opponents. Now he just wanted the ice-wielding member of The Grander’s Order to bleed and suffer for the humiliation the last attack had caused the vampire.

Before the dust could settle from the blast, Tarry lunged foward and his right hand shot forward with the dagger extended outwards towards the Raelyse’s unprotected neck like a snake trying to strike its prey. The left hand moved the dagger into a reverse position and was held near the vampire’s chest for defense. The attack may not have been glamorous, showy or complicated like the attacks that most fighters and adventurers preferred, but then again a simple dagger to the neck could be just as effective any sort of flamboyant looking spell.

[Redeemer]

My plan had worked. My blood had hit its mark, splattering on his face. Had it not been for his sword, the taint would have entered his eyes as well. For a moment, I could only manage a grim smile at his disgust, but that soon changed. His tone grew darker, more filled with rage. My opponent began a walk towards me, slow but steady footsteps continuing down the aisle. He soon twirled his sword, like some sort of street performer as he looped it about in a manner. 'Is he trying to intimidate me?' Finally, his raspy voice roared like a fearsome fire and brimstone preacher, screaming at me like a zealot.

I grew afraid, his eyes that I so had wanted to blind now piercing my very being into submission. I backed away slowly, forgetting about the venoms pain in my body. All I could do was watch him in anticipation, hoping he would quell his madness before his attack became too rash. My wide eyed expression had to give him a hint as to what I was feeling.

With a sudden rush forward had caught me off guard, my feet unsteady as I stumbled back. I could not help letting a yelp slip as I saw his gruesome face, covered with my own blood. He lifted his sword, the very symbol of his aggression, and swung it with fearful might. There was no way I could move in time as the blade met my left hand. I felt the cold steel slash through the flesh and finally meet the bone where it stopped. I stumbled back, unable to feel the full pain until after the sword was removed. My eyes, terrified at what had happened, desperately looked for signs of damage. My wrist had been cut deeply, the first bone completely separated. The pain was incredible as I could only stare in awe at my wound, how close I had been to losing the hand. I let out a scream, my aguish was known to the entire arena. The scream was of pain, terror, and rage over the grievance down to me. But soon, but the fear and hurt left me, over powered by a more primal emotion. Hatred overtook me then as I starred straight at my opponent.

I could not control my actions as I lunged forward, teeth bared. My right hand extended to grasp his throat, my left hand kept back having lost control over it. I wanted his blood, I wanted his very being to be destroyed. But most of all, I want to scratch out those bastard eyes of his, those eyes so smug and fearsome. 'I will blind him.'

[Raelyse]

Another failed attack. Another carefully executed move doing nothing more than showing off Raelyse's prowess, albeit quite spectacularly. Every time the prince had launched one of his icicle spears, his opponent had found some way to dodge them. He did not need to think for even a moment, he knew that Falcon would need to lend his assistance to help them vanquish this foe. The younger vampire had never looked like threatening the Nocturnian, so why was he taking so long? It did not matter anyway. It would only be a matter of time before the blind one exhausted all of his attacks and became predictable, and then the prince would be able to wipe him out. Raelyse just wanted this battle to be finished quickly; he was beginning to feel that the church was starting to reek.

As his icicle spear smashed into the vampire, the prince had thought for a second that he had won. Impaling means defeat, whether you're dead, alive or whatever exists in between. So it was with much glee that his eyes widened when he saw that there was no chance of his attack missing. Unfortunately, it did not succeed either. A loud clang ringed through the entire church as the icicle smashed into the vampire's hidden metal armor. The prince clenched his fist and swore out loud. Endlessly creating ice weapons was growing exasperating and now that frustration was beginning to seep in to his form, Raelyse realized that he was growing tired. He watched as his weapon came off weaker than his opponent, shattering into a million pieces, tiny icicle shards raining all over the church. While his opponent regained his balance, the prince quickly tried his best to calm himself down before focusing.

With many tiny sharp icicles in the air, Raelyse knew that this would be a perfect time to help out his partner. "Darkflight, finish that one off!" His left hand instantly thrust into the air during his speech, before plunging diagonally down to his right. As if obeying that motion, about one hundred tiny icicle shards, instantly veered off course, raining down on the area surrounding Canen's opponent. The rest of them, unaided by Raelyse's magical propulsion, fell on the ground around the entire arena almost simultaneously a split second afterwards, imitating the sound of rain as they landed on the ground. The area in which the icicle spear had shattered meant that most of the shards landed in the area between the podium and the entrance, meaning the prince only had to slowly raise his right hand to protect his face from the few that flew in his direction.

"Well done, old boy, you just fucked yourself over. Maybe next time, just take off the armor and die. Don’t you grow tir -”

This was not the first time that the prince had started receiting a monologue during a fight and got punished for it. He did not even see the attack coming; he was too focused on himself. He felt the shockwaves from the blast as it connected with the wooden church floor, sending his body backwards. Then, before he knew it, the prince of Myrusia felt his footing fall from beneath him. Raelyse opened his eyes to see what had happened, even though it was all too obvious. The vampire's attack had broken the already fragile ground, causing the prince to fall into whatever lay beneath the church. What was strange though and what should have been predicted was that there was something underneath the church.

The drop was not very deep, probably only about two feet. The prince fell to the ground with a thud, causing dust from all around him to rise. The wooden plank that he had been standing on above was broken into two pieces and now lay beside him. The prince tried to rise to his feet, instinctively grabbing for his cane as he did so. When he noticed that it was gone, he instantly panicked. Looking around, he saw it about three feet to his right. Within two seconds, he had rolled to it, picked it up and risen to his feet. He positioned himself away from the hole, so as to not leave himself vulnerable to attack. Raelyse was now concerned that his clothing was now covered in dust, especially his precious cane. Worse, his hair. He did not even need to think about it, he knew it was beyond help now.

A quick glance revealed to the prince his new surroundings. This new place was small, about the size of the raised platform in the church. What truly surprised was its contents. Inside it, there was nothing but enormous wooden barrels. As his eyes ran over them, all stacked up neatly, it suddenly added up. This was not a church. A logo on each and every single one of the barrel revealed its contents. Rum, whiskey, tequila... this was an alcohol storage facility masquerading as a church. No wonder everything was so perfectly aligned. It had never been used for worship of any kind. Now that he knew the contents of this area, Raelyse swore that he could smell a disgusting cocktail of all the beverages mixed together. He hated alcohol, he hated vampires... the two would burn together.

The prince knew that the vampire's attack would have caused a lot of dust or splinters to rise from the church floor, so whatever follow up attack he was planning would have missed. It would also have obscured everyone's vision, so they would not be able to see that the prince was uninjured or even how deep the drop was.

Carefully and slowly unsheathing his sword from his cane to make sure no sound was emitted; the prince then raised his weapon slightly. He prepared to swing his blade, and cleave the vampire if he dared to come down to try and finish him off. But he would not waste time; he knew that the vampires might decide to gang up on Canen now.

He began to use his ice powers again, this time focusing on the area above him. He would not be idle and as long as he fought along side Raelyse Salidan, Canen Darkflight would not lose.

[Falcon Darkflight]

Canen stumbled as the injured Nathanial, with a free flowing stream of blood pouring from his left hand, smashed a clenched right fist into the bridge of his nose. Accompanied by a sickly cracking sound, the nosebone shattered and a rush of blood streamed from the Nocturn's nostrels in a flush of thick black, drizzling over his lips like a bittersweet treacle. The initial blow was enough to send the form of Canen crashing into one of the front row pews, causing his body to trip over the rest of the wooden bench and lie in a crumpled heap over its breadth. The vamparic Nathanial bore his filthy fangs in sheer rage for the insults he had recieved during the fight and it seemed he was now ready, despite suffering a horrible injury at the hands of Canen's blade, to take the fight back to his aggressor.

For Canen, everything was a blur. The sounds surrounding him came through his hazy ears like white noise, the images recieved by his eyes appearing almost in double and shaking violently. As he struggled to his feet he suddenly felt the sharp and sudden pain of the wound to his nose hit him like the punch had, reeling his senses and causing him great bouts of frustration. He got to his feet and leaned his back against the pew he had fallen into, marked by smears of his Icarus blood along the wooden base.

"That fucking hurt..."He remarked, fiddling with the shattered bridge of his pale, bloodstained nose like a child would fiddle with a sore tooth. It made an awful clicking sound as it jaunted back into place. "...but you are still lucky to be standing, boy. How many more times do you think I will fall for the suckerpunches...?"

His rhetorical question was interrupted by a sudden hail of icicle shards raining down on the vicinity, the last remenants of Raelyse's failed attempt on Tarry's life. Like the sound of a thousand snare drums, hundreds of magically propulsed fragments of frozen liquid smashed into the pews and scattered along the warm sunlit floor like marbles, some of them melting upon impact. As Canen attained his senses once again and regained the use of his eyes and ears, he had noticed that Raelyse had given him the perfect yet small window of opportunity to help take out the obvious power plant of the operation. Tarry Whealer. Canen sheathed his blade and cast his eyes down at the spatters of Icarus blood that had spilt over the dusty wooden floorboards for a moment, before continuing his approach on the blind, bandaged vampire.

"You need to get your fucking act together, Canen..." The Nocturn mumbled to himself. He was now aware of Raelyse's own position, having noticed that Tarry was standing over an open hole in the floor.

With a quick mock kiss blown at the weakened vampire he had left in the wake of the hailstorm of ice shards, Canen turned his attention to Tarry Whealer. Raelyse had been matching him blow for blow in this exciting matchup, yet here the blind vampire stood unaware of the ever moving, ever resourceful Prince's new and perhaps chance-inflicted plan. Canen could see what his leader was scheming, and he fully intended to ensure it paid off.

This new hole was small, and inside it, there was nothing but alcoholic drinks stacked in neatly lined wooden casks. Raelyse's well known hatred of alcohol was enough for Canen to know he wouldn't want to be sat inside that hole for too long, and it was time to make his move. The Nocturn quietly paced over the dusty wooden floorboards and stood about two metres from the other, far stronger vampire. He slowly raised a palm to chest height, and lined it up with Whealer's back.

Slowly, the matter of the Black Widow magic started to form. The dark substance swirled in an oily pattern, merging and intertwining with an almost liquid appearance, before flinging itself in a two metre wide sheet with a hiss remeniscant of a viper, reared up and ready to strike. The Black Widow was named so for its numbing effect on the skin, causing slow paralysis that would not kill but eventually immobilise or stun its opponent enough to prevent them from moving quickly. Essentially, this was just what Canen needed to ensure his side of the partnership was kept aloft.

(As agreed, edits completed.)

[grim137]

“What a shame. It seems that instead of relatively quick and bloody death from a dagger to the face, the prick will die a slow and painful death of starvation and loneliness. What a shame in deed,” thought the sadistic vampire with a sardonic sort of glee as the smoke cleared and dust began to settle. He knew that his opponent, the ice wielding prick, had fallen into a hole and was still alive but that was all. As far as the blind vampire knew (or cared), the unfortunate Raelyse was in a pit completely devoid of anything that could be used as food or drink (Tarry assumed the smells of alcohol were coming from the city outside).

“Now that one dip-shit is down and out of the way, I guess I ought to get rid of his little butt-buddy and help my weakling apprentice.”

It was now, for the first time since the battle had begun that the blind vampire truly began to notice his partner Nathaniel, and needless to say, Tarry was not at all happy with the way his recently acquired apprentice was handling the battle. Ignoring Canen for a moment, the arrogant livelike vampire turned his attention towards his apprentice.

“I swear to God, it amazes me how somebody as weak as you managed to survive for over 100 years before you met me. I mean, hell, you didn’t even have enough sense to get yourself a fucking weapon before coming here,” said the livelike vampire scornfully. Yet despite his scorn Tarry did something that was almost completely against his character, he flicked the dagger in his hand across the floor of the church, to the feet of Nathaniel. “There take the dagger and learn to defend yourself. I’ll help you get rid of this son-of-a-whore since you seem to be completely unable to do it for yourself.”

With that Tarry once again turned around only to get hit head on by Canen’s ‘Black Window’ spell. The effects of the spell became apparent to the blind vampire almost immediately as his muscles began to tense up all over his body and he seemed to be slowly going numb in every bodypart he ever new he had and a few he hadn’t realized even existed before now. Tarry could feel a sort of lethargic feeling wash over him as his nervous system was becoming weaker and less effective and their ever-important signals started taking longer to reach the rest of his body, all thanks to the deteriorating effects of Canen’s spell.

Slowly, as the initial surprise wore off and his body began to adjust itself to get used to the nerve-damaging effects of the spell the vampire raised his right hand with his palm aimed squarely at Canen. A second later two more ki blasts burst from Tarry’s palm in quick succession like gunshots, speeding forward with every intention of blowing the nocturnian’s head clear off his shoulders.

“Lets see if this bastard is as resistant to my magic as that infernal partner of his.”

[Thoracis]

Would have liked to have seen this finish. That being said, I’m not sure finishing it would have effected the outcome at all. This battle ended up being rather one-sided with one side infusing much more confusion into the battle then the other.

(11) Grander’s Order vs. (14) Blood Brothers

Grander’s Order

Raelyse:

Introduction: 6 - I thought your intro was the best of the bunch. You exhibited a good amount of character, established why you were there, and gave me a much better sense of the surrounding then anyone else.

Setting: 6 - Again, you did much better with the setting then anyone else. You utilized and observed it much more then anyone else. This is one area where not finishing hurt though. Having it be an alcohol cache so to speak was kind of weird to begin with, but having made no use of it it’s even stranger.

Strategy: 5 - While I give you props for making an arena that you’d think your opponents wouldn’t even be able to fight in I would have preferred something more. As far as the rest of the thread everything was fairly average. You overused the same ice spells too.

Writing Style: 6 - You have a good style. Not much to say there. You know what you’re doing. Only thing I have a gripe with is your comma (or sometimes lack thereof) usage. There are about as many spots that you have an extra one as there are spots you miss them.

Rising Action: 5 - If there was any substantial Rising Action in this battle it came from you. Mostly it came on part of your Dialogue, as that’s what really set the pace for the entire battle. But of course, as is the reason I hate this category, it’s hard to establish much in a hack-and-slash setting like battles.

Dialogue: 6 - While sometimes it came off a little underhanded, it was your character to a tee and was really what kept the battle going.

Character: 7 - You play the Prince well. You barely strayed much during this battle.

Climax: 0

Conclusion: 0

Wild Card: 5

Total: 46


Falcon Darkflight

Introduction: 5 - Pretty average. I like the reporter bit, but for the most part there was nothing overly original or deserving of an above-average score.

Setting: 4 - More attention could have been given to the setting. It’s one of the more important parts of a battle.

Strategy: 5 - Again, rather average. You were mostly hack-and-slash at first. I liked you taking Nathaniel’s shots though.

Writing Style: 5 - You’ve improved a lot. I mean a lot. Thinking back to past judgments I made inbattles of yours I’m impressed with how far you’ve come. As is the case in almost every thread though, it was the small mistakes that brought your score down.

Rising Action: 4 - There really wasn’t any, at least in the traditional sense. But again, I liked how you took your hits and the development it brought as far as your attitude during the battle. It was mostly your reactions to those attacks that brought you points here.

Dialogue: 5 - Good. But not as good as your partner. I think you need to find your niche between your character and how much you want to make him sound like Raelyse.

Character: 5 - Basically the same as with Dialogue. There wasn’t much as far as development or anything really new with your character, but the paragraph about your sword brought you up.

Climax: 0

Conclusion: 0

Wild Card: 5

Total: 38

Team Average: 42




Blood Brothers

grim137

Introduction: 5 - You at least provided a reason for being in the tournament. Other then that it was pretty straight-forward.

Setting: 4 - You blew up the floor. Other then that I don’t think you made much use of the setting at all. I would have liked to have seen more focus on the fact that it was a church (or supposed to be).

Strategy: 5 - Your attacks were mostly good and well used. But, there was nothing above average, again.

Writing Style: 5 - Starting to sound repetitive, but it was average. Certainly not flawed too greatly, but also nothing that stood out above anyone else.

Dialogue: 4 - Yours seemed just a bit more contrived then your opponents. I also thought the scolding of Nathaniel towards the end was entirely out of place. It just didn’t fit.

Character: 6 - You know your character well, as you should, and played him well.

Climax: 0

Conclusion: 0

Wild Card: 4

Total: 36


Redeemer

Introduction: 4 - This was confusing for me. It seemed like you literally came wandering out of the desert for no real reason. I didn’t get a sense of Nathaniel having any drive except to please Grim. The bit with the snake also made NO sense and I still don’t know the purpose of it or how it was supposed to play a part in this battle.

Setting: 4 - The beams fell on you. Off the top of my head I can’t think of you really referencing the arena any place else.

Strategy: 4 - The snake bite through this off for me. It made for odd moments like you stabbing yourself and a constant pain in your leg. (As a vampire you can go in sunlight and churches but AREN’T immune to venom/poison?)

Writing Style: 5 - It’s not easy to write 1st person in a setting like Althanas. I think you do about as good as you can without being absolutely spectacular.

Rising Action: 3 - See my comments for Setting and Strategy.

Dialogue: 3 - Compared to everyone else in this battle I felt you could have tried a little harder, even if it was with inward thoughts and the like.

Character: 6 - You do play your character well. You never lost sight of the infatuation with Tarry, which was the highlight of your battle as far as the rubric is concerned.

Climax: 0

Conclusion: 0

Wild Card: 4

Total: 33

Team Average: 34.5


Grander’s Order advance to second round!

Rewards:

Blood Brothers will receive 50 EXP consolation.

Raelyse gains 736 EXP.

Falcon Darkflight gains 608 EXP.

EXP added!