Division 2: kid disaster vs. Corvus McCallum

[Ther]

This match-up will last until 8 P.M. E.S.T. on 2/23/07. Remember, if you finish your battle early, I can score you early - and finishing early is a good, good thing always.

Best of luck!

[{Kid disasteR}]

A fierce rumbling came from the gray, cloudy sky above. The silvery pillows of the sky lit up as white lightening flashed sporadically within them, illuminating the damp, grassy plains below. Rain poured from the sky as strong bouts of wind increased the velocity of the tiny droplets. The rain stung Solo's skin as it pummeled the surface of his body's largest organ. Solo squinted his eyes to shield them from the harsh weather. It appeared he was standing in the middle of a completely open field. There were no trees, bushes or tall grass to speak of. There was only him, and the earth beneath his feet.

Solo bent down to one knee and dug his fingers deep into the muddy earth. He fisted a handful of the gritty substance and held it near his face, inspecting it intently. Several earth worms wriggled and squirmed about in his hands, trying to bury themselves in the sanctuary of the soil below them, but their efforts were futile. Solo gazed upon the tiny creatures with his usual, melancholy expression.

" My appologies friends, for today I must take your lives. Fear not brethren, for you shall once again be one with the earth you so love. As your bodies wither away like a rose in the frigid north, the nutrients you once took from the earth to sustain your own existence will leave your bodies and seep back into the soil. This will create richer, more nutrient dense earth for other creatures and plants to thrive upon. In your death, you will bring life to so many others. So mourn yourselves not friends, rather rejoice in knowing that you have the honor of continuing the life cycle, which has sustained this planet for years untold. "

Solo placed the mud he held in his hands back where he had removed it, refilling the small craters he had created. Solo stood tall, stretching his arms to the sky. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, very slowly. The temperature around him began to descend slowly. The air became cooler, dryer; slowly frost began to form upon the green blades of grass. After the frost, came the snow. The rain slowly turned to sleet then finally to flakes of snow. The wind, still blowing forcefully, spread the small flakes across the grassy plains.

Solo kept his arms stretched high, gazing into the sky above. His eyes were wide, but he did not strain. In fact, he smiled lightly. He thought it a blessing that he had such abilities. His Impish cousins could only use their powers for destruction, he could create a wonderland.

Solo let his arms rest gently at his side. He rested his chin on his chest, exhaling deeply. Slowly he raised his head, and looked at what he had created. The wind still blew hard as ever, shuffling the powdery snow about the plains. What was once a sea of green was now a blanket of pure, shimmering white. Solo was satisfied.

He looked down, however, once again to the earth worms, now buried in six inches of snow. His heart ached for them.

" I am sorry friends. Truly I am. "

[Corvus MacCallum]

This was not an unfamiliar sight to one born in Salvar, a soft trodden field with a pristine layer of snow...but it wasn't much of a comforting sight either,a Highlander with such rampant wander-lust never got home-sick and besides it just felt bad having slush between the toes. Each furred foot-fall crunched its way through the white powder, a refreshing chilled wetness spreading along the soles of his well-worn paws, the light snow-fall clinging and sinking into his clothing, the wolf-man couldn't help but muster a smirk as he trudged his way to the opponent. Catching sight and scent of his reasonably human quarry the hunter of large fanged beasts bent down slowly, tail tip shaking itself free of the snow and wagging vigorously through the air, with a quiet chuckle his hands punctured the frozen coating of the grass and began pushing his hands together, feeling that chilled water sift through them and mar his fur.

With careful, expert scoops a ball of snow was compacted quite pleasantly together, lightly trimmed to aid with wind resistence and then rising steadily the Highlander prepared his first volley. A smirk planted on his scruffy visage he wound up and...released, the small orb of snowy delights getting its first venture upwards from gravity, its form flaking off lightly before forcing its air-borne fellows to join it before losing its shape on impact to the left of his opponent. With a chuckle the wolf-man plodded further through the snow, left hand raised and keeping a firm grip on the Slammers handle...least the arena was level but then that does present a bit of a dull opportunity.

"Heyup man...fancy a good thorough ruck?"

[{Kid disasteR}]

Solo's eyes scanned the field once more. A very faint hint of blue and gray reflected from the white snow. Beyond the horizon, the field seemed to go on forever into the blackness beyond. Perhaps if the sun were not hidden by the clouds one could see further, but for now, sight was somewhat limited from a distance.

Solo thought back to the day he had registered for this tournament. It was cloudy that day too. Normally Solo wasn't one to go searching for a fight, but he felt it had been too long since his last battle and felt it necessary to touch up on his skills.

Solo was a fairly skilled swordsmen, especially for one raised in isolation, sheltered from any real danger. He had studied the ways of war, not from a warrior, but from a strategist. The Imp who trained Solo was an adviser to the High General. Solo's teacher's name was Den Se'. Den Se' taught Solo to use his unique blade for defense and counter, rather than aggression. Den Se' had always said , " In regards to one's self, it is better to come out alive, than to come out victorious. " Solo always thought back to his teacher, Den Se', before every battle. It helped him to remain alert, and remember what he had been taught.

As Solo played out combat maneuvers in his mind, he heard a crunching in the snow. His thoughts were scattered, and he looked sharply to the right. As he did so, a white sphere came flying in his direction, breaking into powder as it hit the ground beside him. Solo looked up from the ground and back in the direction that the snow ball came from. There, Solo saw his opponent. From this distance, it appeared he would be fighting some form of beast, but as the man grew closer his monstrous form became more detailed, and less disturbing.

Solo was unsure what he was looking at. Was it man or beast? Sentient or non? Despite his confusion, Solo felt something familiar about this creature, though he could not place it at the time.

The creature spoke out, and Solo knew then he would be fighting a sentient being. Thank goodness for that. He'd rather not be pitted against a creature driven by instincts alone. That sort of thing made for a rather unamusing fight.

Solo spoke aloud to the creature as he approached.

" Yes indeed. I must thank you for alerting me of your presence before taking a blade to my throat. I fancy a fair fight myself. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Samuel Oliver Logan. You, Sir, may call me Solo. " said Solo, taking a deep bow. He drew his spatha from the sheath that dangled round his back and took a defensive stance, his left foot forward, angled forty-five degrees to the right, his right foot back slightly, angled straight to the right, his knees bent slightly, making sure to keep his weight balanced between left and right. He held his spatha in his right hand firmly, the blade at eye level, angled at his opponent. He extended his left arm forward and exhaled deeply.

" Whenever you are ready my friend. "

[Corvus MacCallum]

Considering that the only wolf-ish qualities Corvus had were his currently bound and covered furry arms, a pair of snow covered furred and clawed feet, some rather prominent fangs located inside his mouth and to finish it up... a tail that often laid limp like some trophy of battle his opponent must have had one hell of a perceptive quality to imagine him as some hulking beast when really he looked just like any toned human male. A touch of a wilder mane maybe eh that could be solved with a quick trim, in fact apart from a few key features giving away some faint heritage mixes his opponent looked a little less human than Corvus after a good hard gander. Chuckling as he watched his opponent enter the stance, a distinct 'born and bred honourable soul' edge in that voice...well this may prove a bit interesting...

Might as well get started what-ho

The Highlanders left arm, covered by that unenchanted glove raised up slowly, flexing his claws with an eager delight... it had been some time since he last had to fight a regular sized opponent... Slammers while brilliant in their simple and expertly defined purpose could cleave a young Dragons neck in twaine with a single hack they were often seen as a hinderance for duels. His clawed fingers wrapped around the cloth-bound handle of his gigantic pure iron sword and with a tug snapped the harness straps that glued it against his spine, it was never an easy thing to lift but this position made it far easier, using the leverage offered by his shoulder to give one mighty thrust.

There was a five inch high shower of snow and soil as the Slammer impacted on the ground, the Highlanders right hand now joining its life-long amigo and hefting the blade up again, a few test swings to just pop that air between his joints. Never hurt but it was bloody distracting when your finger pops in the middle of a fight.

"Hmm... guess I should introduce meself, name's Corvus, folks call me Cor and that about does it"

So many witty taunts to sort through... best to leave it for the heat of the moment, never hurts to twist your opponents ear a bit with a few choice insults... now, how to start this off... well he started a snow-fall, don't want to be bested heheh

A quiet chuckle shifted his shoulders up and down before the Wolf-man tensed up slowly and quickly twirled his sword so its flat lay by the ground and then with a twist of his waist and yanking up into the air shovelled a great volume of the soft powder and then another swing of his sword churning the air current just enough to avoid showering himself in that. As his blade was lowering down the Highlander shifted his snow covered feet, bringing one leg forward while the other bent downwards for a good spring step.

He did hate this bit... the first strike of a battle, so many practiced daily just to win this single strike and weren't much of a challenge when the opponent survived, others underestimated just how vital this first move can be and wound up bleeding on the ground with a rather suprised look on their face. He... well it was quite important but he was tough enough to survive many of those sneaky blows and so, hunkering back slowly as if bringing himself back like a spring lept forward, that gigantic iron sword being brought to his side, left shoulder ahead. As he did this though, his left foot, the one ahead kept low enough to trail at the ground as the spring-step ended for quick adjustment... lets see how he reacts.

[Max Dirks]

Corvus MacCallum advances to round two.

On a side note, work on the pacing of your sentences Corvus.