Round Two: (1) Blank v (9) Baneblades

[Max Dirks]

Round two will begin Friday, May 19th at 12 AM EST. Good Luck!

[INDK]

The sun was bright this day. Not too bright, but it beamed over the pagodas welcomingly, welcomingly warm like the light on the first day of spring. It was good Lornius weather, and the team Blank had particular reason to be cheerful. They had gotten past the first hurdle in the LCC, even though that battle had never reached resolution. It was likely by crowd reaction that Blank had advanced, their offense had been considerably more crowd pleasing, and at the very least, more exotic.

This time, things were going to be made much more interesting. The tournament hadn’t put too much effort into the battlefield for Blank’s first match, but now they were going to make sure that people were paying attention. The imagination of Lornius had been piqued, and thus, the officials had planned a grander battle for Blank. They knew that if they promised a more dangerous arena than outside on a beach, then fans would flock to the battle like mice to a bit of cheese.

Some of the LCC’s best minds had sought to ensure that Blank vs. Baneblades would ensure blood. They had devised an arena that both maintained their assets and ensured a hefty crowd and death defying feats. It would be a test for all the competitors, but the officials were particularly interested in testing some of the many rumors about Damon Kaosi. People would pay just to find out which rumors were true. Yes, some of them may have seemed fantastical, but the legend of the Raiaeran general was equally fantastic.

Thus, the top of the tallest pagoda in Lornius had been fettered with rubber strands, one for each competitor. There were harnesses placed around them, custom made so one would fit each participant in the battle. A few stray pieces of rope had also been tied up to a metal rod fixed onto the Pagoda’s top, but it was the harnesses that would provide the competitors with their best protection. They were elastic and long enough to dip nearly to the ground (the tournament organizers nearly salivated at the idea of one of the competitors falling only to stop near seconds from an impending death). The ropes were only there for a fallen combatant to pick themselves back up. Otherwise, the pagoda was no different from any other. It was fairly wide, about fourteen feet square, though a good amount of the space was taken up by steeper areas of the roof that made for difficult climbing. Even then, there was enough room around the edges for some manipulation, if the competitor’s footwork was fancy enough. It would make for an entertaining battle, but most importantly, profit for Lornius.

Everything was ready to go. People were waiting below the Pagoda excitedly, standing and screaming to show their eagerness for the battle to begin. The bright day had ensured a solid turnout, and it seemed that everything was ready for the battle, save for the fact that it seemed that no one in Lornius had seen Damon Kaosi in days. Now, minutes before the battle was to start, he was no where to be found.

Instead of being ready at the pagoda, Damon was hurriedly putting on his clothes, cleaning off his sword and loosening up his muscles. The boy hadn’t intended to be so distracted, but he had been so busy practicing his drills that he had completely forgotten the time. After his mistakes in the last round, Damon had diligently been practicing how he would make an opening strike, just so that he wouldn’t embarrass Ashiakin again. A storm of lasers had saved him once, but the boy knew that he couldn’t afford to just rely on the spell. Thus, he’d spent all his time between the last battle and the next practicing, from early in the morning until late at night. Even on the day of the battle, Damon woken up in the early morning just to work the kinks out of his plan of attack. However, the boy had been so diligent, that he’d completely lost track of the time and now was likely going to be late for their next battle. He only hoped that Ashiakin could forgive him.

As he hustled his way to the tournament, the boy couldn’t help but remark at how much his motivation had changed since he’d first set foot for Lornius. Entering the LCC had at first merely been something to do; now winning it had become his identity. Damon now measured himself by what he did for Ashiakin, how much time he practiced, how much work he did, how bravely he fought, after incurring the ice elemental’s displeasure in the earlier round, Damon now felt like he would do anything for is partner’s approval. Only now was the boy realizing how difficult that would be to achieve. He had assumed because of his willingness to accept Ashiakin as a friend, those feelings would have been reciprocated. However, Damon now realized that was foolish. He was going to have to earn his partner’s friendship, and the only way he could do that was by proving himself this round. The LCC was theirs to win, but Damon needed to make sure that they won it.

Ever since he had met the ice elemental, Damon had been sure that they were going to win. As time went on, Damon had grown increasingly committed to the task, but he’d realized how hard it would be. The more he heard about Ashiakin’s plans upon victory, the eager Damon grew to win. He was certain that if he really was the reincarnate of a famous general he would have been able to win, but now he was beginning to doubt that too. Famous generals didn’t make mistakes. The fact was, just like his namesake, this Damon Kaosi wanted to be a hero.

He knew it would be hard to be a hero, but at the very least, Damon needed to be on time for the tournament. His imagination even more active than most children, ominous thoughts began to loom in his head of Ashiakin being overwhelmed by two enemies and killed before he could arrive. Unable to tell time precisely, when the boy looked up at the sun, he knew the round may have already started. If he didn’t move quickly, it might just be too late. Ashiakin would never forgive him then.

Damon began to run faster.

[Ashiakin]

“Is your partner the real Damon Kaosi?”

Ashiakin hesitated at the question. He was seated in a crowded Lyridian café across a small table from a journalist, their interview an awkward spectacle enmeshed in a sea of droning conversations and curious glances from other patrons. The reporter was a willowy thirty-something, her dark tucked behind her ears, eyes and lips unsmiling as she scribbled on a notepad. She was with the Lyridia Chronicle, the only paper in Lornius of any repute, or so the Salvic monarchy informed him. Ashiakin took a sip from his glass of wine. “Of course he is,” he finally offered, smiling easily.

She tilted her glasses and looked unimpressed. “You sound certain. How do you know?”

“It’s obvious, don’t you think?” The demon ran his fingers through his white hair absently. “It’s not every day that some boy with unrivaled powers appears out of nowhere and claims to be a dead hero reborn. Believe me, I’ve see stranger things. I walked the earth during the days of the War of the Tap, when—”

“Yes,” she interrupted, not giving him a chance to continue. “So they say. How did it feel for a mythical legend to be defeated in the first round of the Serenti Invitational?”

Ashiakin bit his lip. On any other subject, he would have likely argued with her. But his recent performance in the Serenti had deeply embarrassed him. It was a sore wound that this journalist was picking at. He said nothing for a long while, just looked at her. She faltered under his stare, shuffling her notes and nervously twirling her pen. As adamant as she had been before, now she seemed equally disarmed. It was all that Ashiakin could do not to smile. He had gotten his revenge, small as it was.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said eventually. “I really must be going. They’ve placed me on the other side of the island for the second round. I’ve a few days ride ahead of me, it seems.” He pulled several pieces of GP out of one of his silky pockets and placed it on the table for the waiter. Nosy wench, he thought, as he stood and made for the exit.

The journalist stood quickly and called out to the demon’s back: “How do you feel about your upcoming round?” Her voice faltered at first, but became steadier after only a moment. “Do you think you can regain your status with a victory here?”

Smiling, but wordless, Ashiakin walked through the door. Let’s see how well she fares when her employers discover she failed to complete her interview. It was a foolish thing to take pleasure from, he knew, but his Serenti defeat had hurt him.

Lyridia hit him as the café door closed behind him. The disappointed crowds of poor outside the casinos, the smells of sex and roasting meat, the cries of hawkers and charlatans, the subtle hum of the black market holding it all together. He would be leaving it all behind for a few days for the pagoda shrine. As much sleazy charm as Lyridia possessed, Ashiakin couldn’t say he would be sad to be away from it.

Edwin and Vissal were waiting outside. After the Salvic monarchy had learned that his first round had been a victory, they had felt the need to send him a complimentary retinue. Edwin was a squire of sorts, an awkward boy of sixteen, sent to take care of Ashiakin’s weapons and supplies. Vissal was evidently his body guard, a taciturn battle-mage and an ugly woman besides. Like I really need a body guard, he remembered thinking. And a woman at that. How ridiculous. Over the past several days, Ashiakin had been perfecting the fine art of ignoring the pair of them.

“We’re leaving,” Ashiakin announced as he stepped toward the two. Edwin muttered excitedly about the tournament as he set about preparing Ashiakin’s horse, but Vissal just nodded and mounted her own. Well, he thought, won’t this be fun?

The journey was short and quiet. At Ashiakin’s insistence, they mostly stayed away from towns and villages. Forests, hills, and rivers. As they road, the scenery all blended together in Ashiakin’s head. Whenever they encountered a tournament-goer or a fan, Ashiakin made sure they avoided contact with them when possible.

When their horses finally trotted up to the shrine, sweat-soaked and exhausted, the journey had done little to restore Ashiakin’s ill mood. A large crowd had gathered outside the pagoda to watch the match and many cheers erupted as the party rode in. The demon was not particularly looking forward to this match. He had visited the pagoda the day of his first round victory to find out all the details on his next match. The fact that he would be bungee jumping off the tiered tower meant his archery would be useless. Ashiakin was a competent swordsman—but that was with two feet on the ground. This battle was certain to be difficult.

Where the bloody hell is Damon? he wondered. He had not talked to the boy since they had defeated the Knights of the Square Table. None of the demon’s spies on Lornius had been able to turn up news of him, either. It worried him, but Ashiakin had faith in Damon. Even if he truly didn’t believe him to be an elven general reborn, the boy was amazingly powerful. Besides, he needed him to be here so they could win.

“Edwin, take this,” he said as the three of them dismounted. He tossed his quiver of arrows and bow to the squire, who promptly dropped it. He sputtered and murmured apologies and set to picking the arrows off the ground. Ashiakin said nothing to him except, “When you’re done with that, tie up the horses and get them some water.” He turned toward Vissal. “Please make sure that he doesn’t break anything.”

With that, Ashiakin shouldered his way through the crowd and climbed the steps of the pagoda. The door closed behind him and, for a few moments, he was gone from sight. But he soon reemerged near one of the rubber harnesses on the rooftop. Curiously, as he waited atop the pagoda, Ashiakin’s back was to the crowd.

[AsukaStrikes]

"Hey, Rheawien. Who are these people we're fighting against?"

The dusty road leading to Team Baneblades' destination, though falling into disrepair from years of neglect, was surprisingly well-travelled and the two fighters never quite found a stretch of road without LCC fans or over-enthusiastic hawkers to join in their travel. Their overzealous gawks and chatty mouths, coupled with with the fact neither one of Team Baneblades was able to acquire a ride to their battleground was starting to get the best of the redhead. She decided to veer off the path and into the damp, ankle-high grass off to the side. It was a wonderful respite from the billows of dry, itchy brown powders being thrown at her from the merchant cart in front. The sun just peeking out from behind the dense foliage lining one side of the path. Her past life in Akashima had always been in and around the furnace, watching her father strike his sturdy hammer on the glowing piece of metal soon to take the lives of warriors, thieves and the innocent alike. The heat of the sun was nothing like that. Not the warmth she experienced being so close to the burning coal and charred steel. The sun was imposing. So distant, yet unforgiving.

The throng of spectators hurried ahead of her, unconcerned about whoever was going to be fighting their beloved hero reincarnate. It seemed as though the multitude didn't care what kind of devious plot was bubbling away at the top of his mind. All they wanted to see was whether the revered elven general Damon Kaosi had indeed been reincarnated.

Asuka wasn't enjoying this tournament a lot, either. Not since the team they were supposed to be fighting dropped out even before she could even see a shadow. It irked the lass to have to wait for her opponent and it turned out she was going to find no thrill, no rush of adrenaline to slake her thirst for battle. Hopefully, this round won't be the same.

The Akashiman swordsmaiden listened intently to the words of her drow partner as she went on about the Ice Elemental and his partner, a rather young kid with unimpressive looks. Ashiakin... heh. I remembered that guy. It was a vague recollection from loitering in the Lounge back in the Serenti. The supposed Ancient was said to have lost to a young, upstart fist-fighter. A mere child at that as well. What a laugh.

Of course, Asuka couldn't help reminding herself that she almost ended up in the same position, nearly swept to her demise by the chilly embrace of the southern ocean. At least, Asuka contemplated as the Baneblades neared their destination, Mine was an equal.

Ever since the encounter at the swampy battleground, Asuka still knew little about her drow partner. The lass figured Rheawien wasn't much of a talking type and neither was she. But a little communication couldn't hurt from time to time, now that she thought of it.

The voices around Asuka drifted into the back of her mind, growing quieter by the second until only the sound of blood coursing through her temple was the only thing she could hear. It was irrelevant how many people came to cheer for Team Blank. How skilled the legendary Ice Elemental and the supposed reincarnation was and how easily they both demolished their previous roadblock.

Yamihara.

The one and only reason why she was ever in this cursed tournament, or any kind of battle at all. She needed to find her. Find out why they are alike in more than just one way. What that girl's connection is to her.

Fame is one way to go about finding a person. Her loss in the Serenti would forever leave a scar, physically and mentally. The Lornius Corprorate Challenge was perfect for her to regain the drive for battle and buffer the spirit after losing so badly. And with the island as the prize, it couldn't be any better.

((OK, let's get to that pagoda. You can bunny Asuka as she snapped back to reality.))

[Rheawien]

The first round was preposterous and utterly worthless of the effort Rheawien put into it. As if the soggy swamps of northern Lorinus forests weren’t irritating enough, the sky decided to rain cats and dogs on that day, soaking the half-elf to the bone. And when she finally managed to reach the designated battlefield - caked in mud and angry enough to shred the organizers to pieces with her bare hands - her opponents failed to show up. For Rhea, who joined the Lorinus Corporate Challenge solely for the challenge, the lack thereof only raised her tension.

The only thing that she found in the middle of the stinky marshes was her companion, Asuka Murakama, but given the redhead’s bitter disposition, that turned out to be less of a gain then Rheawien imagined it would be. True, there was something intriguing about the tomboy lass and her roughness that tickled the half-elf’s mind on several occasions as they traveled to their next reckoning, but most of the time Asuka was as accessible as a mountain top. Rheawien mulled on this fact for quite a while before she understood that Asuka’s demeanor differed little from her own before she met Sarah Dahlios. So instead of being a bitch to the girl, she decided not to fight fire with fire and try to approach her with more gentleness. She maybe didn’t swing the same way Rhea did, but things tend to change on a flip of the coin sometimes. Heads become tails. Black becomes white. Friends become lovers.

Not being a caustic bitch turned out to be more difficult that the half-elf imagined given their current situation. Not only were they forced to walk to their next battle with the team made of the so called legends, but the buzz about the return of the oh-so-great Damon Kaosi and his ancient ally, Ashiakin, followed their every step like a bad odor. Some laughed at the girls, some offered their condolences and all of them stood on the verge on getting bitch-slapped by the frigid bitch herself.

Asuka’s company and the blooming spring day around her offered at least some consolation to the white-haired woman. They strayed from the main road and down a stretch of meadow beyond which the pagoda reached for the sky in all its majesty.

“Please, call me Rhea.” the half-elf said in a soft tone, her lips offering a minute smile as she followed the red haired swordsmaiden. “And I know a thing or three about these two that form team Blank. Blank...” she digressed with a scornful grin. “Whoever came up with that name is in apparent lack of imagination.” she muttered more to herself before she continued. “Anyways, Damon I know from the time he was the Aegis of the Brotherhood, though, from what people say, it’s not the same Damon... whatever that means. Either way, from what I remember he has more then a couple tricks up his sleeves, mostly that ridiculous fruity song magic.”

She paused, her eyes noticing the massive crowd that gathered at the foot of the building that was to host their strife with the team Blank. They were all out for blood, wretched carnivorous folk too weak or too gutless to be predators themselves. Instead they were like vultures, eagerly waiting to devour each spilled drop of blood with their eyes. Rheawien sighed audibly before she continued. “As for Ashiakin, I heard mostly stories and rumors. He’s some sort of an ancient ice demon, wan looking thing with pompous attitude and a stick up his...” she smiled once again, this time teasingly. “...rear end, shall we say.”

By this time, the female duo reached the back row of the gathering crowd and the word of their arrival spread like a plague. “The Baneblades! You’re about to get destroyed! Better go home play with your dolls, girlies! I’ve got money on you... to die in the first two minutes!” were just some of the shouts from the crowd that made a relatively narrow bottleneck and enabled them passage. A man clad completely in black stepped in front of them wordlessly, his hands taking out what looked like a measurement tool, spreading it to evaluate her shoulder width.

“Get out of our way, idiot!” Rheawien bawled, grabbing the man by the shoulder and pushing him back into the crowd. “Bloody undertakers! They’re like vultures. All of you! Vultures and good-for-nothings!”

This naturally didn’t help with the demeanor of the crowd that booed and mocked them as if they were walking towards a guillotine. Luckily, by the time first unknown objects became airborne with an intention to strike the Baneblades, the two women managed to break through the circle and reach the pagoda. Rheawien dusted of her skin-tight leather pants, fixed her scant black tank top so it covered her breasts perfectly and gave the crowd the finger. Then they fled inside the pagoda as fast as humanly possible.

“You alright?” she asked her companion once they were safe and the clamor outside was nothing but a bunch of incomprehensible murmurs. “Moronic people. We’ll show them. Come on, let’s get to the top.”

Only, would they show them? Rheawien was certain that she could hold her own in a battle, but she was uncertain about Asuka’s battle prowess. The girl talked the talk, no doubt about it, but could she walk the walk was something the half-elf didn’t know. She seemed so young, despite her brassy idiosyncrasy, so inexperienced and in a way, Rhea felt the need to protect her. That was why, as they were making their way up the circular stairs that led to the higher levels, she stopped the redhead abruptly.

“Asuka wait. I... I want you to have this.” she said, reaching for the leather string that stood around her neck and taking it and the large stone off. “I call it simply The Ward and it will block a hit or two if they manage to sneak in a strike. Don’t worry about me. I have enough blades to keep myself safe.” she finished with a reassuring smile and fighting off the urge to kiss the lass and those rosy lips of hers. Instead she led the way up the stairs with renewed vigor, emerging on top in less then a minute.

Her initial reaction was twofold. She was satisfied to see that Ashiakin (for it had to be the ice demon, since she knew Damon and it was not Damon that waited them on the highest floor of the grandiose pagoda) showed up, his posture stoic and casual on the other side of the battlefield, as if they were mere horseflies and he was to swat them away with a snap of his fingers. However, she wasn’t satisfied with the rubbery contraption that they were supposed to harness around themselves. She approached to edge of the roof confidently, her elevated dexterity providing enough balance for her light boots to stand with solidity despite the slanted surface.

“You there! Ashiakin, is it? What do you say we leave this child’s play and face off as real warriors?” she called out to the other side of the roof, her posture tranquil, her knees bent as her right hand stood on the hilt of her katana. Her fingertips were itchy - gunslinger fingertips - radiating with her eagerness to combat and clash blades. She didn’t want protection. She didn’t need protection. If she wanted protection, she wouldn’t have joined a tournament where people killed people. Besides, the demon looked like someone she could take in three moves tops.

[AsukaStrikes]

The throng gathered at the base of the pagoda was anything but supportive. Left and right, the crowd of wretched battle-goers hissed and booed at Team Baneblades as if the two girls were on trial for a heinous crime. She wouldn't be surprised if this indeed was a kangaroo court and her team was charged with stepping up to challenge the people's hero. Guilty as charged.

Her white-hair partner spat threats as she shoved her way through the indignant numbskulls showering mockery and derision at Team Baneblades. This did nothing to help elevate the Akashiman's mood either, especially when one half-wit retard decided to grab a handful of her backside. The blatant ridicule was dealt firmly with a deft back-hand punch to his bridgeless nose. Imbeciles.

Things could've gotten worse had the two not made it inside the relative safety of the pagoda as the mob swelled angrily, sending innumerable projectiles sailing towards the tower's entrance. It was no wonder why her team was greeted with such malicious intent. The people wanted Blank to win, to see their hero reach the top and stand tall for all to marvel. A role model for the mass. Still, Asuka was furious that humans could be so biased as to ignore anything that was against their beliefs, whether or not it was a possibility the two girls could lay the smackdown on the reincarnated elven general and the Salvic demon. Or it was the because the mass believed Asuka and Rheawien stood a chance against their champion that the mass was too afraid not to grind the girl's ego to dust.

The half-elf seemed more protective to the redhead more and more they travelled with each other, though the lass was uncertain as to the motive behind it. Asuka shrugged in response to the concerned inquiry. Perhaps the half-elf was uncertain as to Asuka's ability to put up a fight of her own. Obviously, the older girl must've felt it was her responsibility to keep Asuka alive as long as she could hold on. But I've had more than my fair share of tournaments and fights already. What't to worry?

Indeed, what was there to worry about? The worst possible thing that could happen was Asuka dead against the blade of her opponent. Things couldn't get any worse than that.

A little ways up the winding stone staircase of the Pagoda, her partner stopped and presented the puzzled youth with what she called The Warder. The strange stone looked both unimpressive and nondescript - nothing seemed special about it to convince Asuka that the object in her hand was in fact a magical talisman. But only when the lass looped the Ward around her neck, her quartz-like pendant glowed dimly with its soft, moonlight shine. The Spiritstone Pendant had yet to fail the Akashiman once in identifying a magical entity, nor was there any reason to doubt the good will of her partner. Asuka looked up to see Rhea gazing deeply into her emerald eyes, benevolence radiating faintly from the elder woman. The Akashiman nodded silently in return, unsure of what kind of face she should be putting on to show her gratitude. The silence lingered still as the two normally bitchy women made their way up the rest of the stairs.

What... the...

Atop the majestic Pagoda, The relatively tiny battleground slanted downwards towards the jade foliage below which stretched away to the great beyond, disappearing into the distance where the sky and forest merged into one. The wondrous scenery was intruded by a sturdy rod jutting out from the top, ropes and hoops dangling from it to create a peculiar apparatus for which the competitors were supposed to fight with.

Rheawien had already started talking smack to her opponent whereas the legendary Damon Kaosi was nowhere to be found. The fact that he had yet to show his face, compounded with the uneasy footing atop the ceramic-covered roof Asuka was to endure, much less utilize in the fight, was starting to get on her nerves.

Where are you, oh, great Damon Kaosi?

The lass edged her way cautiously around the outside of the teal arena, grabbing hold of one of the elastic coils attached to the temple's rooftop and testing the lengthy piece of elastic. Sturdy enough, I guess. A small plan of attack formulated in her head, but the lass filed it away for the time being. All she could do now was wait for her battle to commense.

Wait for her time to charge into the fray.

Oh, it's been so long since I had a good fight...

[INDK]

By the time the boy had made it to the Pagoda, there were already three people on the roof. Damon gulped. The crowd offered no help as to what was going on up on the roof, for the most part they seemed to be talking amongst themselves. It was nothing of importance. Everyone was merely swapping the LCC rumors that had been running so rampantly through Lornius. Soon enough the crowd caught sight of the boy and began to cheer. Damon waved at the crowd nervously before beginning to run up the stairs to the top of the Pagoda. The boy frowned at the thought that there was still so much time left to go before he’d end up on the top of the tower, but he’d had to wave, for Damon was merely acting upon what he believed was the dictates of decency. Now that he was on the stairs, the boy found his second wind and began to run faster up the steep spiral staircases.

By the Damon had reached the top floor, he was nearly out of breath and could do little more than gasp for breath as the monk explained the way the harnesses worked and about the dangers that would be apparent in this battle. He didn’t care about any rules or regulations when he had to defend his partner. The boy could already imagine the ice elemental’s worry. The boy’s glimpses at celebrity in Lornius had showed him that it was hard enough just satisfying the expectations that came from being a living legend. Damon could only imagine how much harder it was for someone like Ashiakin, who was actually deserving of the title. Not only was the ice elemental subjected to all the same expectations, but Damon relied on Ashiakin as a guide as well. The very fact that Ashiakin so willingly bore that burden proved to the boy once again that they deserved to win the tournament for Ashiakin’s sake.

Eventually, the monk stopped talking and offered Damon a harness. “We let the others put theirs up on the roof, but we brought yours down just so that this battle can get started as soon as you are up there,” the monk said as he helped Damon slip the leather contraption on.

The boy nodded eagerly, assuming this was the last step before he could get up on the roof with the other combatants. “Okay… okay,” he mumbled, dismissing the monk’s instructions about how to check the harness and make sure it was secure. “Ashiakin needs me now.”

The monk looked on the boy pityingly, perhaps because such sobriety on the face of a fifteen year old was so particularly unbecoming. “Are you sure you would not want to catch your breath first? You can perhaps even have a drink of…”

“No!” Damon shot back, horrified by the idea of leaving Ashiakin to fend for himself any longer. He swallowed to regain his breath from the outburst and then gestured towards the window. “That’s the way to the roof, right?”

The monk nodded.

Within a second and without any more niceties, Damon had got up onto the ledge and began to pull himself up onto the roof. “I’m coming Ashiakin!” he shouted, inadvertently announcing his presence to his enemies while he was still in a compromised position. However, Damon had been so caught up with making sure his partner knew that he could be trusted, that he had barely any time to think strategy for the unique structure for the round. All the boy knew was that he needed to get to his partner as fast as possible. With both hands up on the ledge of the roof, the boy could practically taste the battle. He grinned enthusiastically. Damon was confident that he would not be deterred.

However, he didn’t stop for a single second to think that one of the Baneblades might choose to impede his climb.

[Ashiakin]

A wind swept over the top of the pagoda, tugging at the demon's fine garments. The blue silk of his shirt billowed about his thin torso, catching distant sunlight and glittering. He was seated on a far corner of the tower’s sloping rooftop with his feet resting in a gutter. The harness was in his lap, the length of rubbery rope that extended from it spilling over the roof and crawling down the pagoda like vines. To the crowd below, it likely appeared more like Ashiakin was bird-watching than preparing to go into battle. Their cheers had fallen quiet for some time now, digressing into murmurs and wild speculation. Maybe, they thought, the demon was summoning Damon Kaosi back from the grave. Or Ashiakin was preparing to transform himself into Damon. Perhaps the new Damon was an illusion. Possibly the new Damon was really a two-headed warlock from the shattered stretches of ice north of Berevar that Ashiakin had sold his soul to in exchange for victory. None of them knew.

As these mutterings morphed into jeers, boos, and a few half-hearted cheers, Ashiakin turned toward the crowd. His opponents, the Baneblades, had arrived. He knew little of them, save that Asuka had placed fourth in the last Serenti Invitational, where he had suffered his grievous first round defeat. That sparked jealousy in him. It gnawed at the demon, crept through him. If he could slay Asuka, he felt that he could win back a little of his pride. Rheawien he only knew by name. He had never met her or heard of any of her deeds. She concerned him less than the other.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, the demon stood and faced the faraway crowd. He kept one foot carefully lodged in the gutter for balance with the other perched neatly on the sloping room. It would not be impossible to walk on the top of the pagoda, but he knew that it might be impossible for him to fight here. His cold eyes watched the Baneblades as they shouldered their way through the seething crowd. I could kill them both right now if I had my bow, he thought sourly. It’s a pity I gave it to Edwin.

Though the demon felt that he had much to redeem personally in this match, he reminded himself that none of this was about him. He had found Damon and entered the tournament for Salvar. Manipulation, maneuvering, he was sick of it all. Now he was a soldier. A loyal agent of the monarchy. No tricks, no betrayals, just servitude. Lornius, though much of it was barren, had a thriving black market and was ideally situated for trade with Corone. A victory would put Lornius under the control of Salvar. Ashiakin was here to colonize. His opponents were no better off than an indigenous tribal population that waited to be slaughtered by industrialized invaders. The Baneblades, he knew, would not survive the cold advance of Salvaran progress.

When Asuka and Rheawien had entered the bottom of the pagoda, Ashiakin set to fastening the harness around his chest. He slid all of the straps into the appropriate slots, tightened them, and secured them with clips just as the monks had told him to. It occurred to him that it would have been wise to have performed a test jump. Too late for that now, he thought. If my cord snaps, I’ll just burn the bloody pagoda.

He glanced about the crowd. Where in the world is Damon? he wondered. He had perfectly clear directions on how to get here… I made sure he understood them. If he doesn’t show up, this is going to be difficult. Ashiakin did not relish the thought of facing the Baneblades on his own. Without his bow, he felt less comfortable, despite possessing a decent arsenal of weapons. He wore a long sword on his back, two long daggers at his waist, and twelve shurikens were hidden about him person. If Damon did not show, he had no doubt that he would make use of them all.

Asuka and Rheawien emerged on the roof. Ashiakin studied them quietly, eyeing their weapons and noting their demeanors, trying to learn as much about them as a few moments would allow. He stood still, but the wind yet pulled at his clothes and white hair. Rheawien spoke to him, but the demon’s eyes burned past the half-elf toward Asuka as she toyed with one of the harnesses. She had only placed fourth in the Serenti… but fourth was further than he had gotten. For that, he would kill her.

Ashiakin’s eyes wandered back to Rheawien a moment after she finished speaking. His blue lips tugged upward into a slight smile. He was aware that, standing awkwardly atop the pagoda with a harness strapped around his noble attire, he probably looked ridiculous. But he didn’t care. He drew his sword and cheers erupted from the crowd. “And disappoint all my adoring fans?” he asked with cool sarcasm. “I think not. If you’re afraid of heights, my lady, I’ll be glad to help you back down.”

Then he heard Damon’s cry. Evidently the boy had arrived before without Ashiakin noticing it—and was climbing toward the roof of the pagoda. Now Asuka and Rheawien would know where Damon was just as well as he did. The demon acted almost without thinking. He hoped Asuka would be too far away and too concerned with the harness to traverse the roof in time. Silently he cast a spell and a thin layer of ice coated the sloping area of rooftop between Ashiakin and Rheawien. If she stepped forward toward him or moved near Damon without noticing the ice, she’d likely slip and plunge to her death, not having attached her harness.

But Ashiakin had to complete the diversion. He smiled and gracefully fell off the roof.

[Rheawien]

((Bunny approved by INDK.))

Rheawien didn’t know what pushed her buttons more; the condescending mockery of the ice demon that came with an ironic grin or the rising cheers of the idiots below that worshiped the demon as if he was a god in flesh. Mostly, though, it was the fact that this wouldn’t be a straightforward battle in which she enjoyed and for which she signed up in the first place. Ropes and rubbery contraptions meant this fight was bound to be a bunch of shenanigans-filled baloney that wouldn’t live to her expectations. And they weren’t even so great.

All she ever wanted was to just engage somebody in a fight, a face off filled with blood and sweat and tears and all the agony and tension that a proper battle offered. She wanted to purge her demons, to vent out on some poor nobody (or even better, somebody with a name that waited to be tarnished) while beating him senseless. She wanted to dominate, to clash swords and conquer men as if they were land and she was a tyrant. She wanted to feel that disgusting stench of the aftermath once she emerged victorious. She wanted all of that (or at least some of that) and got something that looked like a fair ride. Step right up and try the amazing pagoda jumping! A bloody joke.

The half-elf decided that it would not be so. She darted for Ashiakin fiercely, aiming to cut him before he threw himself off the ledge. Unfortunately, she never got past second step. Because even as she made the second stride, her foot simply slid beneath her as if the roof tiling was coated with grease. When her body lost the balance and introduced her face to the terracotta tiles, she could feel that it was actually ice and not grease. Gravity proceeded to do its job instantaneously, sending her body in a skid down the short length of the roof while her pale hands desperately searched for something solid to grab on her way down. All they found was the slippery chill of the tiles. And for a moment, as her lissome body slipped over the edge and the crowd below yawped like a bunch of alligators waiting to be fed, she could see herself splattered in the grass below.

And then her hands grabbed a hold of something solid.

The inertia swung her like a pendulum, making her hit the wall with her shoulder, but her hands held to what looked like a human leg as if it was the last straw. Which it actually was. It took her a couple of moments and a pair of audible breaths to ascertain her situation and raise her eyes from the doom below. Despite the fact that it was perfectly plausible for him to be here, Rheawien was still surprised by the familiar face that he could see above her. Here she was, sliding to her doom, and the only thing that saved her was the leg of Damon Kaosi, her former Aegis and present adversary.

“Damon Kaosi? You couldn’t have come at a better time.” she spoke, her voice a bit rattled by the hard breathing coming as a direct consequence of the tension of the muscles of her arms that clung to the elf’s leg. But when her eyes noticed the rope that Damon used to reach this level, she decided to make the most of this situation. Her left hand let go of the muscled calf, grabbing a hold of the rope. Her right didn’t follow the example. Instead it darted to her hip, grasping the hilt of the damascus dagger.

“Here, let me give you my thanks.” she added with a malicious smile, pulling out her blade and aiming to stab the very place that saved her from being a blood smear in the landscape. After all, all was fair in love and war, and while this was by no means the former, it would definitely be the latter by the end of the day.

[AsukaStrikes]

Even atop the sunny ceramic roof, the chills of terror was still adamant on seizing Asuka in its unforgiving clutch. The lass felt Ashiakin's hatred boring through her skull like a gigantic bloodhound eyeing a tiny fox cornered in a ravine. His demeanor was calm and collect, the kind of opponent Asuka was most nervous about fighting with. No one was sure what could be running through that twisted mind of his.

The light southern breeze picked up and stirred the young girl's jacket, caressing her unnerved tension and brushing away her apprehensions. This is a tournament fight, after all... Fights that neither reward defeat nor withdrawal. There was no turning back if the fighters were all present.

No turning back.

The enthusiastic shout from below the tile lines announced the entry of the other half of Blank. It took only a turn of her head to spot Ashiakin drop from her line of sight out of the corner of her eye, seemingly plummeting to his demise wearing that interestingly unfashionable harness around his regal attire.

Argh! What in the name of Lore does he think he's doing?!?

A dad opponent is no fun to the Akashiman. She wanted to cross blades just at least once in this hellish tournament. Just to feel the rush of adrenaline flowing through her veins and the burning sensation of accomplishment awaiting her after a long, demanding bout. She was not going to let Ashiakin have the satisfaction of depriving her of that feeling.

"Rhea-" Asuka planted her boots firmly on the tiled roofing, ready to swing her way around the roof to where the ice demon had dropped from her view. The half-elf, having demonstrated her prowess atop the slippery arena, looked to be more than enough to handle Ashiakin. The Akashiman maiden was about to holler out a plan to her partner when the black-hair elf also disappeared from sight - a glistening puddle of ice remained where she stood. "Rheawien!"

Even though the thought of seeing her battle companion splattered on the ground below terrified Asuka beyond words, somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Rheawien would be fine. Asuka's worries shouldn't be on her far more capable friend. Defeating the vastly more powerful and egoistic Salvic demon was a much bigger issue to her.

The plans she had was swept aside and off the table. At first, the lass thought the childish Damon was to be her adversary - leaving the "grown-ups" to duke it out seemed like a perfect match-up to her. Now, it was the upstart lass against the immortal demon.

Alright, if it's games you want to play... Asuka wasted no time darting towards the far end of the arena, her left wrapped tightly around the elastic coil of rope. It would be a shame to let go of such a life-saver for extra maneuverability at a time like this. Her right instinctively grabbed hold of Kazeryu, keeping the double-edged blade sheathed while her billowing jacket trailed behind her advance.

In hindsight, donning the harness would sure be a lot better than just merely holding on to it. The straps around her body would certainly relieve Asuka's left hand to do something strategic of its own, like snatching a loose tile and hurling it at her falling foe. Yet she insisted on keeping it unattached and ready to swing from one rope to another in case the line decided to give way without a warning.

A severed lifeline is such a pity. The lass thought as she hurled herself off the Pagoda's roof, tugging on the lengthy coil to prevent her body from dropping too far off the edge. She had to keep her distance from the pale-face demon, suspecting some kind of devious magical plan brewing in his mind. Asuka still wasn't sure how strong her opponent was and rushing in would certainly ensure her downfall.

Kazeryu slid out from his slumber and, in queue with his master landing skillfully on the outer walls of the Pagoda just below the roof line, bit into the ice elemental's thick elastic coil with a clash against the stony bricks. Her mouth drawn upwards in a sly smirk, staring down on the pale physique of her foe.

"See you next fall, Ashiakin."

[INDK]

(bunny of seeing the future approved by Rheawien)

Damon’s thoughts had only been on reuniting with Ashiakin when the lady had fallen off of the roof and ended up with her hands clutching his calf. From that point on, the boy had centered upon a singular focus, not getting the half elf from off his limb, but somehow willing his body up onto the roof, or at least saving himself from what would be a sharp fall down to the ground. The harness was supposed to protect him, but out of the corner of his eye, Damon could now see what the other Baneblade had done to Ashiakin’s lifeline. Eyes wide, Damon feared for the life of his partner as he squirmed to get free from his opponent, only suddenly feeling the sharp pain of the dagger as it sliced into his leg.

“Aaaaaaaaashi…” the boy screamed, unable to make out the full name of his partner as his hands gave way. The boy’s grip had already been growing more tenuous. Melted water from Ashiakin’s ice spell had made the ledge increasingly difficult to hold. Now, the dagger searing into his flesh was the final blow. Damon screamed again as he began to fall, fearful both for himself and his partner.

Still, though terrified, the eyes of Damon were not filled with hate. They were brimming with tears of disappointment, the pure black beginning to glimmer with the formation of his tears. The lady who had wounded him was now going to cut at his lifeline in a minute, the boy knew it for he saw it in a vision. The injuries he’d sustain from falling to the ground would be more than enough to end this battle, and that was something the boy knew his team could ill afford. If Ashiakin hadn’t survived, it would be up to Damon to make sure that he didn’t disappoint. Just like Ashiakin had saved him the last round, now it was up to Damon.

The boy steeled his resolve. Vehemently, Damon grabbed onto the first ledge he could get a hold of. It was three stories from the top of the pagoda, down far enough that he could no longer reach the roof easily but still more than fifteen feet up from the ground. Grateful for the fact that the stone ledge held him as he climbed up into the window, the boy fought back tears of pain and disappointment as he pulled himself up into the room by his stomach. He had lost sight of Ashiakin, and because of the guilt he felt at arriving late, Damon now had a predilection to think towards the worst. He didn't know whether or not Ashiakin had recovered, or even if the tether had been cut all the way through, but Damon's fears made him believe it. He would be on his own now. Damon knew he needed to maintain his determination. Not just Ashiakin, but all of Lornius was depending on it.

Once inside, Damon knew he couldn’t afford much more pause than a few seconds to catch his breath. His lungs now felt like they would explode from lack of oxygen and his right shin throbbed with pain, but the boy knew he could pause only just long enough to think up a new plan. Somehow though, before he continued, Damon knew that he would have to calm his mind. Otherwise, the boy knew he would be doomed to rash action with the thoughts of Ashiakin’s fall running vividly in his head.

“What would Ashiakin do at a time like this?” the boy thought, trying to imagine how his mentor would have overcome these problems if faced in a similar situation. Damon knew he wasn’t nearly as smart or experienced, but he hoped that the training he’d received before the first round would have taught him well. Even if he wasn’t a perfect student, the boy knew he had been blessed with an infallible mentor.

Suddenly, an idea struck the boy. A mischievous smile flashed across his face and for a moment, Damon completely forgot about the throbbing pain in his leg. He quickly slipped out of his harness and attached it to a torch fixed onto one of the stone walls. The boy figured that way that the Baneblades would still figure that he had remained in the room. The boy was going to run up back to the top as they came down to get him, and then he was going to sever both their cords.

The only question was, given how hurt and winded he had become, would Damon have been able to run back up the stairs in quick enough time. His leg, while not severely wounded, had been cut sharply and the boy had yet to have done anything to stop the bleeding. However, time was of the essence and he began to run, his heart keeping pace for his steps as it beat desperately like a drummer seeking to will an army to victory by the sound of the beats alone.

By the time the boy had managed up one set of stairs up to the next story, he was already too tired to press on. Caked in sweat, Damon slowed down but continued onwards, hoping somewhere desire would find a way to overcome his fatigue. However, now the boy’s shoulders had drooped and his straight hair clung to his sweat soaked face and there was an overriding thought inside the boy’s brain that the stone walls of the pagoda made its inside very cool. Still, he had to press on. The boy had no other choice.

However, the monk that had fit him with the harness had begun to come down the stairs. Damon looked at him with desperate eyes. “Please… you can heal me… do it now,” the boy begged, grabbing the monk by his robe in his desperation.

“I may not interfere,” the monk replied, evenly but not without sympathy. “Once the battle has started, it must reach its natural conclusion.”

“But- but Ashiakin needs to win!” Damon replied incredulously, as if the monk should have known that was obvious.

The monk smiled kindly but firmly. “Then you’ll have to make sure of that with your sword,” came the reply, as the monk emphasized the last word.

Damon was exasperated and let out a heavy sigh. “But…but don’t you want Ashiakin to win?” he asked, as if the answer should have been obvious. “He’ll become duke of Lornius, and everyone would be better off.”

Shaking his head, the monk still refused. While he wasn't without pity, the monk knew both that he was honor bound not to interfere, and perhaps more importantly, that Lornius would not be better off with Ashiakin as its duke.

With more tears of frustration brimming in his eyes, Damon knew it would be pointless to argue any longer. He let go of the monk and began to move up the spiral stairs again. A moment’s breath had been all that he needed.

[Ashiakin]

Falling was liberating. After all the demanding years directing an intricate network of intrigue and subterfuge, it brought the demon so much release to let go. To lose all control of everything. In those helpless moments, he could do nothing if his cord was to snap and his plunge to the earth was to continue unimpeded. It was thrilling. To be nothing more than a leaf on the wind, a cog in the great Salvic war machine—a mere platform to their imperial ambitions. It was as if ages and ages of stress were dissolving in the atmosphere around the demon as he plummeted toward the ground.

Only when he had fallen past the third floor of the pagoda, wind tousling his white hair and lifting up his flowing silk clothes as if they were wings, that he came to another realization. When he had heard Damon’s cry and leapt from the roof, he had done so with only a threadbare strategy and a minimal amount of caution for his own personal safety. It was almost as if he had placed a higher priority on keeping his partner safe than he had placed on keeping himself safe. He had done it without even thinking.

Am I going soft? he wondered. Losing my touch because I’ve befriended some child with godly powers? He’s a tool for winning the tournament! I need to remember that… Perhaps it meant nothing. Maybe, in that instant, his sub-conscious had merely calculated that he was capable of protecting himself better than Damon was capable of protecting himself. It very well could have been a strategic decision. But, nonetheless, the moment of respite falling had granted the demon was now gone.

Ashiakin was jolted back to reality as his cord snapped, announcing that he had reached the lowest point of his descent without a mishap. He tilted his head toward the crowd in that instant. There were humans, elves, and draw, men, women, and children. A diverse population likely only outmatched by Corone. But in the vapid eyes and cheering lips of almost every one of his adoring fans, he saw Damon. The blind worship and ceaseless adoration reminded him so much of the boy. He nearly shuddered at that. I’ve more blood on my hands than you could ever know! he wanted to scream. He wanted to tear off his guise. To keep falling. Feel his body break upon the earth.

But he didn’t. He tore upward so fast that he felt he was being buoyed by the cheers of the crowd below. It was as if their faith kept his lie afloat. He soared past the tiers of the pagoda and the roof started to come into view again. While he could not make out what had become of Damon or the whore that had tackled him, he saw that Asuka had used her cord and harness to climb down to the level below the roof. What on earth is she doing? he wondered, a sense of alarm stirring within him.

Horror filled his blue eyes when he witnessed her sword lash out and bite into the cord that tethered him to the roof. It cut all the way through. Shit! was all that the demon had time to think. Now that his lifeline had actually been severed, Ashiakin was having second thoughts about crashing into the ground. The crowd screamed, but he knew that their cries would not really be able to lift him up.

It was inertia that saved him. Though his cord had been severed, he continued to fly upward for several more feet. Ashiakin quickly tossed his long sword through the nearest window of the pagoda, shattering the glass. Before his body could begin a final descent, he grabbed the ledge of the shingled tier above him and swung through the open window below. He landed awkwardly on the wooden floor, rolling over bits of broken glass, and only came to a rest when he slammed loudly into the far wall.

Dazed and sore, Ashiakin slowly picked himself up. His clothes were ruffled and a little torn, but he otherwise looked presentable. He ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it once more. Although he had picked up some bruises and small cuts from the glass, he had not broken any bones or sustained any grievous injuries. Starting to regain his strength and awareness, the demon ran over to his sword and picked it up. He slid it into its sheath. There was little use for it right now. He had a better idea.

As Ashiakin dashed up the stairs of the inner pagoda, he tore off his harness, unfastening all its buckles and clips as fast as he could. He was so determined that he barely noticed the fresh blood on the steps, pausing only to wonder whose it was and if there was anyone else on the inside. After he had torn his harness off, he continued to work while he ran. A mass of ice began to form inside the empty harness—not as thick as he would have liked, due to the spell he had cast a few minutes ago and his turbulent entry through the window, but sturdy enough. It would suit his purpose well.

When he reached the floor of the pagoda below the roof—the one where he had last seen Asuka standing as she had stopped his ascent—he grabbed his ice harness by its remnant of elastic cord, swinging it above his head in a circle like a giant flail. He only stopped to make sure that there was no one else in the room. When he was fairly certain he was alone, he rushed over toward the window that looked over the ledge that he hoped Asuka still occupied. With all the strength he could muster, he swung his makeshift flail so that the ice-filled harness smashed through the window and soared towards what he hoped was his opponent’s torso. If it struck, she’d likely be knocked off the ledge.

[Rheawien]

Even though her treacherous attack failed to strike the tendons behind the boy’s knee – due to the constant wriggling as he attempted to climb the ledge which messed up her aim – the results of the slash fulfilled her intentions. The pain was enough to make him release the roof edge and fall by her like a rock. Fortunately, unlike her unwitting descend seconds ago, his hands failed to flail and find their way to her leg, reversing the situation. Instead the elf passed by her, bawling something that might have been: “Aw, shit!”, but the rapidly increasing distance between them disallowed her ears to hear him finish his articulation.

It was still far from over. A single skim of her eyes over her falling foe made her acknowledge that he too, like Ashiakin, had the rubbery contraption strapped to his chest that rescued him from becoming a splat somewhere in the middle of the multitude of faces below. Her eyes next looked to a storey underneath the one she currently hanged from, noticing Asuka slicing through the coil with her blade.

“Smart girl!”

Rheawien wasted not a moment. She bit into the blade of her dagger, pulling her lithe body up the rope and climbing over the ledge with significant difficulty. Regardless of how well trained a person was, pulling oneself over a ledge with nothing but the power or your arm muscles was never an easy task. Still, once she was up, huffing and puffing from the taxing ascend, her hands grasped the elastic coil and sliced through it with relative ease. The half-elf always kept her weapons sharpened to perfection – another lesson of her father that she clung to as if it was a holy commandment. However, the rubbery rope was still tensed enough to snap like a whip, one half disappearing over the ledge and the other lashing over her forearm, making her dagger follow the now loose rope on its short voyage to the ground below. She hoped it pokes somebody’s eye out down in the crowd.

Partially to see that happening, but mostly to see what became of Damon, Rhea leant over the ledge with kid gloves, just enough to take a peek. The dagger failed to find the eye of some irksome observer. Damon failed to become a pile of minced meat somewhere in the grass below. Double disappointment. She did, however, notice the loose end of his rope hanging from the window in one of the lower tiers of the pagoda.

“Damnit! He’s like vermin.” she muttered, pushing herself off the ledge and more carefully traversing the slanted roof to reach where her intact harness. The white-haired woman didn’t bother with the complicated straps, but rather just took the curled length or rope and approached the ledge again. The crowd cheered once they saw the unknown object falling down, then stopped and looked dumbfounded once they saw no body in the harness. Once Rheawien swung her body over the ledge and started to slowly descend in a manner of a trained spelunker, they started to boo again, swinging their fists at the air as if they were cursing the gods.

Out of pure spite that boiled more and more the closer she got to the mass below, she wanted to make a grand entrance in the room where Damon was supposed to be hiding. She pushed off the wall just above the window from which his coil protruded, let go of the rope just enough so that once her inertia brings her back, she would burst through the window at full speed. It was supposed to be a perfect surprise. It turned out to be a disaster.

Her hands did a good job at measuring the distance, but failed to input the elasticity of the rope into the calculation. This consequently made her feet catch the windowsill, making Rheawien crash into the room, headfirst. She had only her partial elven genes to thank for the dexterity that allowed her to put her hand before her face, preventing her from breaking her neck for certain. Still, the momentum made her roll through the room unhinged, stopping only once her back connected with the wall at the far end of the wall.

Her vision blurred from the impact at her spine, her lungs drawing the expelled air in short uncontrolled inhales. Though the obnubilated mush that her eyes looked at she could notice a shape of a rope tied to the torch just above her head. That bastard. He could’ve been anywhere by now. For all she knew, she could be lurking for her in this very room. If he came at her right now, there was little she could do to oppose him.

[AsukaStrikes]

The lass couldn't be more satisfied by the horrified look on her opponent's face as he flew upwards from the jerk of his harness, only to realize the next trip down was to be all the way. The crowd swelled with cries of terror, gasps rang out through the gathered mass while some unfotunate fools scurried to safety from where would be the epicenter of the ice demon's demise. Not that it would matter to her at all; the wretched Lornian crowd, the free-falling Ashiakin or the rebounding length of rope. Nothing was as important as coming out of this tournament alive and intact.

Sending someone to their doom in Asuka's place was merely collatoral damage in her mind.

Things would certainly end without a hitch if her sword had buried itself into the ice elemental's lifeline a few seconds sooner, but it was too late to mull over the devilish tactic. Ashiakin had utilized the momentum to spring himself clean through one of the windows below, to the dismay of the redhead maiden. The fight wasn't going to end easily, now that Ashiakin had a stable foothold. Then again, she expected nothing less from the battle-hardened ancient.

But even as the lass was wondering what sort or devious plot churning in the Salvic demon's head, the elastic coil bearing Asuka's entire weight snapped without a hint of warning. It happened so suddenly Asuka didn't even had time to think as her lithe form began its own free-fall towards the enthralled crowd below, yet again moving out of the way so as to ensure her demise in Mother Earth's firm embrace.

In that moment her body seemed to lose all sense of burden, the wind gently lifting up to stir her messy copper locks. The sky seemed so blue now that she had a good look at it, broken only by the cotton billows flowing across the expansive heavens above. Time slowed to a crawl and she could feel the very particles of arid Lornian air chafing the back of her head. Things flew by so slowly yet with a certain unrealiztic blur to it the lass failed to notice a human'size chunk of ice attached to a severed harness fly by her field of vision.

I'm... fallling...

The brown bungy cord trailed in the wake of a plunging redhead, the fraying end a tell-tale sign of something sharp running through the unthinkably fragile length of rope. Obviously, someone wanted to see her dead more than just the spectators below.

No... I can't let things end here... No way am I letting it end here.

What appeared to drag on forever ended in an instant. Asuka knew if she didn't find a tight hold soon, it would be she who would be the red sludge in the ground instead of Ashiakin.

Flailing wildly with her free left hand, the lass finally caught one of the trailing coils of rope thrown over the side by the battle organizers prior to the fight. The sturdy, abrasive cords woven into each other held fast to the roof attachments and Asuka tugged hard, fresh adrenaline boosting her strength out of sheer terror at the thought of a bloody death at the hands of gravity. She proceeded to slip down the ragged ropes, her fingers turning bright red from fresh wounds and rope burn. By the time she had stopped completely and slamming against the unforgiving Pagoda walls, crimson blood was smeared a good ways up the rope as well as pooling in the palm of her gloved hands. Kazeryu burning under Asuka's unrelenting grasp, his grip stained dull red from those same liquid flowing through his master's body. Still, it was a lot better than the alternative of slamming into the ground, just short of fifteen feet under her dangling legs.

The elated cheers turned into a wave of boo and distasteful hissing, many yelping in surprise as the lifeless bungy cord whipped about upon its landing in the throng of spectators below . The ebony carriage of a Lyridian hearse thundered up to the Pagoda, seeking to make some quick money evident in so many "fight-to-the-death" tournaments the Lornians were so accustomed to. Cursed undertakers. They're not taking me that easily.

"Over my dead body!" The wildcat hissed at the crowd below, prompting harsh backlashes to ensue and inconspicuous projetiles hailing the walls where Asuka hastily slipped through an opened window on the second floor. In this sense, an "open" window was made by stomping through its wooden frame and sending deadly shards of glass and wood pouring onto the creaky wooden floor. Even as she made it through the mess of glass, rocks and stick proceeded to shower after her and missing the lass by a hair's-breadth.

Ignoring the angry throng outside, Asuka hurried up the stony stairs at the core of the building whilst an ear-shattering crash erupted several floors above. Someone else was inside the building as well, probably intent on ending the maiden's life without a second thought. Using what little burst of adrenaline left in her system, her legs pounded the solid steps up to face her frigid foe, the Wind Dragon fast in her blood-covered hand.

[INDK]

Damon had paid little attention to the sounds below him as ran his way back up to the top of the tower. He could hear the sound of someone crashing in through the window down below, but the boy couldn’t help but wonder now if he wouldn’t be better off keeping the fight inside. True, the tournament organizers’ vision of a highly visible cliffhanger would have been ruined, but that was the last thing on Damon’s mind. The boy hated to think it, but if it hadn’t been for the fact that Ashiakin needed to attract these crowds in order to become duke of Lornius, Damon would have tried to shoo them away. He didn’t like the scrutiny, the pressure, questions about whether or not he was the “real” Damon Kaosi. He didn’t even know what it meant to be the “real.” He breathed, he bled, he was frightened… to Damon he was certain that made him real enough. However, that wasn’t enough to satisfy a crowd whipped up into a blood-crazed frenzy. They had high expectations, one Damon didn’t know as to whether or not he could deliver, especially if Ashiakin was gone.

As the boy looked out the window to find out for sure what had happened to his partner, he was overcome with nervousness. Damon wanted to hold on to the hope that Ashiakin had survived his fall, no matter how unlikely or irrational it would have seemed. Still, the boy had no choice. He had to persevere, and that meant he had to know of his partner’s face. Gulping, he looked out the window, and almost immediately, a bright smile appeared on his face. The body of Ashiakin was nowhere to be found, and the horrid girl who had attacked his partner was now crashing straight through glass.

A bright smile appeared on Damon’s face, and he felt more heartened as the crowd began to point at him and cheered. As much as he hated his audience, the boy couldn’t help but appreciate their applause. Taking a deep breath, he turned around again and tore the sleeve off his shirt so as to bandage his wounded calf. With Ashiakin in the building somewhere, Damon knew that he didn’t have to continue at a breakneck speed.

“He’ll be somewhere inside here, probably down on a lower floor,” Damon thought, trying to figure out where his partner would be. The boy was reluctant to attempt to come up with a new strategy now that he knew Ashiakin was alive somewhere. In the last round, when he’d tried, it had only ended up in disaster. He was going to have to find his partner now even if it required that he search the entire pagoda.

However, Damon had no idea where to start. He could have gone back down the stairs, but he was more than certain that by now, both of the Baneblades were also in the building. The boy dreaded the idea of meeting them both at the same time without Ashiakin’s guidance. He might be able to hold them off, but he’d already been wounded by them.

As he stopped to think, Damon tied up his wounded calf. The injury, while bloody, had been relatively shallow. The boy could still use his leg, albeit not without pain. However, the fact that he’d given himself a moment’s rest and allowed himself to let some of the adrenaline in his body burn away had lead to the pain becoming that much more throbbing. The boy bit his lip to refrain from crying any more as he tied a bandage around his wounded calf.

Taking a few deep breaths once he’d completed with the bandage, Damon was tempted just to wait for the Baneblades to come to him. He figured everyone else would also be heading back up to the roof, and that it was just as likely that Ashiakin should meet him before either of his opponents. However, the boy soon realized that if he didn’t head back down, there was always the chance that his partner could be overwhelmed by both the Baneblades and overcome. Almost immediately, Damon began to think of all the gruesome fates his mentor would suffer without him, just as he had as he’d run towards the pagoda earlier in the day. That moment, Damon knew that despite his wounded calf, he was going to have to head back down the stairs.

“Aaaashiakin!!!!!!!” he cried out, before he headed down. “I’m coming to find you!” Damon could have cared less if the Baneblades heard. Even if they managed to double team him, the boy thought it would be better of if he were to meet that fate than if his partner did.

[Ashiakin]

Ashiakin felt a sense of relief as the mass of ice slammed into Asuka's elastic coil and knocked the woman off the ledge. It wasn’t quite like winning the Serenti, and though he abhorred the mindless crowd below the pagoda, he had to admit that it was satisfying to be able to show them that his original loss had been undeserved. The masses outside roared as his opponent fell. But still, something did not seem right to the demon. Although they cried out, there were no wild shrieks to indicate that Asuka had crashed into the earth and broken every bone in her body. Sighing, he realized that killing this Serenti star was not going to be quite as easy as he had originally envisioned.

He slung the ice harness over his shoulder and wrapped the remnants of the broken elastic coil around his arm. With only the slightest hesitation—his body was still sore from his earlier entry through the window on the floor below—Ashiakin stepped through the broken glass to stand carefully on the sloped ledge of the pagoda. He peered over the edge to see that Asuka had taken hold of one of the ropes running up and down the towers side and was sliding down toward the ground. Clever, he thought. Although her hands are likely to be so raw that holding a weapon won’t be easy for her… This pagoda is a dangerous place. The end will be here soon..

As the wind blew through his hair and tugged at his torn silks, the demon closed his eyes and once more summoned his ice magic. The soreness of his body and the spells he had previously cast limited his reserves, but he had enough power left to cast the small spell that he needed. Ever so slowly, a thin layer of ice began to form on the palms of Ashiakin’s hands and the undersides of his fingers. He knew that he could have cut the rope as Asuka slid down it just as she had done to him, but he figured that by the time he had severed her line she would be so close to the bottom that a fall would barely harm her at all. It would be much better if he would simply follow her.

So the demon pressed his icy palms to the rope and grabbed it tightly, then stepped off the ledge. He slid down more rapidly than he would have normally, but the thin layer of ice protected his hands from the excoriating effects of the rope. By the time Ashiakin’s feet had connected with the ground—as gently and as painlessly as he could manage—Asuka had already entered the first floor of the pagoda through a broken window and was dashing up the stairs. The demon untied the elastic coil from around his arm and used the ice flail to knock out the remnants of the glass still in the window. When the demon examined the contents of the harness, he found that the ice inside it was now crushed and melted. The weapon was useless. His magic was too exhausted to be able to fix it.

“Ashiakin!” cried a shaky voice from the crowd. The demon turned around slowly to see that the boy Edwin was approaching him, carrying his bow and his quiver of arrows. He held them out, indicating that Ashiakin should step forward and take them.

“It won’t do me any good now, Edwin,” he said evenly. “Anyway, I doubt the tournament coordinators would look kindly on me taking up a new weapon in the middle of the round. I can’t take any risks at this point.” It was a stupid decision, Ashiakin knew. He was most skilled with the bow and Edwin was right to offer it. But he was so desperately worried about losing that he felt he had to guard himself against anything, even the slightest thing, that might disqualify him. He would not let himself lose here.

“But…” Edwin said, confused, “much of the way here you were complaining about how you were going to have to fight with a sword… I thought that this might help.”

“I know,” Ashiakin responded, still conveying no emotion. “But it seems you were wrong.” Or maybe he isn’t, he thought. Maybe I’m just so consumed with the idea of winning this that I don’t realize an uphill charge with a weapon I’m only moderately skilled with is a poor idea. What on earth is wrong with me?

Despite Edwin’s sputtering protests, Ashiakin turned around and leapt through the open first floor window. He moved quickly as to avoid Edwin, but also to avoid being shamed by a sixteen year old in front of a crowd of tournament goers. Why is it that all of a sudden I’m so concerned with what everyone thinks? Ashiakin wondered, drawing his long sword and one of his long knives, holding each in one hand. Why is it that everyone remind me of Damon?

Almost on cue, Ashiakin heard his partner cry out his name from one of the upper floors of the pagoda. Perfect. By Ashiakin’s calculations, Damon was on one of the upper floors, while Rheawien and Asuka were on some of the middle floors. Asuka likely still assumed that Ashiakin was also one of the upper floors, so Damon’s cry would likely send them running up the stairs. If his calculations were correct, then neither one of the Baneblades would be aware that he was on the bottom floor. If they were moving up, then Ashiakin would be able to take the pair of them from behind when they rushed Damon. Smiling, the demon moved quietly and stealthily up the stairs.

[Rheawien]

Although she wasn’t knocked unconscious by her unfortunate collision with the wall, Rheawien felt a little bit like waking up after a wild party gone wrong. Her back throbbing with pain like a pulsar, sending stars and constellations revolving in front of her eyes in sync with the ache in the rest of her body. If she wasn’t aware that it was in fact her grand entry that brought this condition upon her, she would’ve thought that somebody pushed her down a flight of stairs. Luckily for her, neither of the two members of team Blank weren’t around to take advantage of her compromised position.

Shaking her head minutely seemed like an unwise course of action, but she did it reflexively as she pushed herself back to her feet. The room around her was rather nondescript, polished hardwood floor and walls that lacked any kind of ornaments. Beside the flickering torches and the windows that looked down on the crowd below, there was nothing worth mentioning in the interior of the pagoda. It seemed almost as if this whole construct was either vacated for the duration of their battle or it was in fact never used for anything save this kind of tournament escapades. Compared to the Dajas Pagoda in Scara Brae, where every room had a personality that reflected the master of ever tier, this one seemed hollow and frigid. That failed to disconcert the half-elf though. Both Asuka and she were rather cold and brassy. This seemed like a proper venue for their victory.

“Speaking of Asuka, what’s that girl up to?” she wondered, precariously making her way to the window that helped her during her entrance and casting a glance downwards first. Beside the usual horde that seemed to hate her guts, she peeked out just in time to see her companion reenter the pagoda through one of the windows. “That’s good. She alritghshit, what was that!?” her tranquil contemplation ended up with a swift step backwards as Ashiakin slid down one of the ropes, too close for comfort to the window where she stood. It was out of the reach of her blade unfortunately and by the time that she got to the other window, the ice demon reached the ground and started talking with the boy from the crowd. It was a damn shame. Twice today he evaded being a heap of broken bones and minced meat somewhere in the midst of the crowd that oh-so-loved him. Rheawien hoped that third time would be a charm for her and Asuka.

A young disquieted voice broke her from the pondering and returned her to the task at hand. “It’s Damon. I have to make a welcoming party for him.” she thought, picking up the hasty pace of the elf’s feet that pitter-pattered down the spiral stairs, desperate to reunite him with his ally. Her first idea was just to stand around the corner and wait for the blundering “great” Damon Kaosi to come running right onto her blade. But though simple plans oftentimes gave birth to best results, she doubted that would work here. Even though he seemed like a greenhorn that came to Lorinus fresh of the tit, he was still Damon Kaosi, and as such, she needed something more cunning then just waiting behind the corner. Her battle-hardy mind came up with another solution fast enough.

She unsheathed her long sword and leant it on the wall next to the stairs from which Damon would be coming soon enough. Judging by the sound of it, he was only a storey or two above her position and that gave her ample time to set herself into the right position. She moved about halfway through the room, parallel to one of the windows, and lay back down on the polished floor. It was a tactic she heard certain animals use. They play dead when the predator arrives. They even play dead when the predator pokes them with the stick. And when there was enough confidence in predator, it became oblivious, careless. That was when she would strike. Once Damon passed down those stairs and noticed her seemingly slumped figure, she would use her telekinesis to call back her blade. Hopefully, the blade would be so kind to impale the elf on its way back to its master.

[AsukaStrikes]

The Spartan interior of the Pagoda flew by Asuka's vision as she pounded the solid stone steps, wearily making her way up the spiraling staircase towards the room Ashiakin supposedly had attacked her. The after-effects of the adrenaline rush started to take its toll on the young lass, her hands burning with unrelenting pain as the hormone diminished from her system. It hadn't occured to her how badly she was hurt back then; surviving the fall was enough justification to throw such emotion away to the back of her mind.

Hrrgh... darn... you... Asuka groaned weakly as each foot touched the stony steps, trailing red drips of blood from her torn hands behind her. I... can't let things end... not now... Asuka had to constantly remind herself why she was in this fight even as her previously tireless flight slowed down to exhausted stomps, her painted hands marking the concave walls at a steady rate. Asuka realized that if she continued fighting like this, the ancient would have no trouble decapitating her with a flick of his hand.

The redhead lass paused and wandered into the empty room, fatigue washing over her like a tidal wave. The blood loss was beginning to affect her as well as the room started appeared to move back and forth under her feet. Surprisingly, the floor was completely unoccupied while showing signs of an obvious break-in. The glass was scattered haphazardly on the scarred oak floorboards and the frame in splinters. Small, dark stains marked the wood in certain places all the way to the far wall.

Ashiakin was here... The room felt airless and overwhelming at the thought that her foe could very well be in this very room. Her breath quickened, anticipating a surprise attack that she would most likely be unable to parry away. He was, after all, a war veteran. What trouble could an inexperienced young whip like her do a thing against him?

Idiot! Wake up! Snap out of it! She couldn't have second thought or any doubt now. She hadn't make it all the way to Lornius just to lose to some old mage covered in ice. Asuka wasn't going to let it go that easily. C'mon! The only reason this guy wanted you dead was because he's jealous! He lost in the first round of the Serenti! You made it all the way to the Semifinals! You're better than him!

Yes... I'm better than him... Asuka leaned against the outside of the pagoda stairwell, glancing down at her battered hands and the blood-soaked Kazeryu. But I can't fight him like this... I have to stop the bleeding.

One good thing about the Pagoda was that everything was very solid and reliable. Stable footing was what this fighter needed the most for her combat style. But an arena like this also turned out to be a pain; There was nothing for her to use to stop the injury.

Kazeryu pulled at her grip, slowly dipping away and just lightly touching a portion of the unscarred floor. Well... if I can't hold on to this blade any longer... The lass pushed off the cold stone wall and trudged over to the broken window, reaching out to the soaked length of rope dangling just off to the side. I'll make it so I can.

The ordeal was no less than painful as Asuka forced herself to slash and bound a length of rope to Kazeryu, tying the Wind Dragon fast to her right hand in the usual reversed grip. She knew it would not be as effective as fighting with entirely capable hands, but that was what she didn't have at the moment. She had to make-do with what she had and hope for the best.

Where is Rheawien, anyways... I hope she hadn't gotten herself killed just yet... The thought of having to fight Blank two at a time surely would not be a happy experience. However, Asuka trusted that anyone as capable in battle as the half-elf would live long enough to see her foe skewered at the end of a sword. Well... let's hope she gets her man...

The lass paused just off to the right of the broken window sill after finished fixing the double-edged sword to her hand, muscles tensed and adrenaline coursing through her body for the second time in this fight. The light-headed feeling visited her again from time to time, though nothing nearly as nauseating as she had first entered the room.

She could sense the air turning cold and still, the feeling of hostility slowly creeping into her mind. Around her neck, the Spiritstone Pendant glowed dimly as the sun casted its light against the walls, leaving her in the shadow of the central stairwell in front of her.

Ashiakin could be coming, but Asuka was still unsure if she could fight the ice demon head-on under her current condition. She continued to eye the stairwell entryway uneasily, bringing her blade up and positioning her body like an amateur street fighter facing off against her immortal enemy.

I guess it's time to meet our maker...

[INDK]

(Bunny of Rheawien approved)

As Damon moved down the stairs to find his partner, he caught sight of the wicked lady who had slashed him in the calf. Her sword was laying fairly far from her body, and it looked like she had taken a great fall. The boy tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help himself. His first impulse had been to help his foe, it had seemed as if she’d cascaded hard through the window and hurt herself badly. Despite his earlier injury, Damon was not without sympathy for her.

Still, the boy knew that he couldn’t afford to be too cautious, especially with an opponent who had already shown a penchant for deviousness. Plus, Damon knew that Ashiakin would not be nearly as concerned for the fate of the Baneblades. Neither would the organizers of the LCC. If Damon failed to make sure his opponent was down, it could cost Ashiakin his rightful position as Duke of Lornius. Thus, Damon was going to have to investigate. “Do you surrender?” he asked. He moved towards the half elf uneasily, carefully inspecting the area around to look for blood or any other signs of trauma that would have explained why she had crumbled. There was a bit of blood around, but it just as easily could have come out of Damon’s calf as any injury suffered by the lady.

He didn’t find much. The window had been open so there was no broken glass. The walls were still sturdy, and no blood had splashed on them. Damon was just about to mutter about his suspicion when his mind warned him about a trap. The half elf’s sword, which had otherwise been laying off near the doorway was now flying straight towards him, seemingly moving under its own power. Flying straight and true, it was headed straight for the boy’s spine. Eyes wide in terror, Damon managed just to wheel around in time to knock the weapon out of the way with a sword of his own. Hitting it hard, the flying sword was knocked down to the ground. The boy cringed as he followed through, for he’d spun around impulsively on his wounded calf, causing his shoddily tied bandage to split and the wound to begin to spurt out blood anew.

Now Damon crumbled. Adrenaline and the will to survive temporarily anesthetized his wounded calf, but now the wound had reminded him of its presence by sending a sharp pain up his spine. More than ten feet from his enemy, the boy knew he had both an enchanted sword and a devious foe to contend with. This was the second time she had tricked him, and as Damon obstinately pursed out his lip, he couldn’t help but to feel frustrated by the deviousness of his opponent. This was a tournament to find the best fighters, not the kind of underhanded brawl that was best left to the demons in Haidia. It seemed that the Baneblades had chosen to ignore this, and Damon knew now he would have no choice but to completely sink to their level.

“We deserve to win this because Ashiakin deserves to be the duke,” the boy thought, confused by how no one else could understand that. “After all he’s worked for, that he’s taken me in and showed me so many things, how can anyone else think that he wouldn’t deserve it?”

Rheawien was nothing but a lout if she couldn’t appreciate the greatness of Ashiakin. Damon was going to have to beat her to the point of being able to fight no longer. The boy had never wanted to do that, but he knew now that he was left with no other options. She was too devious, too untrustworthy. Originally, he had only been seeking an honorable surrender from the Baneblades, but Rheawien had rendered that impossible.

If Damon had been able to, he would have sprung up right there and put his sword straight into the spine of the lady just the same way that she had tried with him. It would be a far more honorable blow than the underhanded stab when he was hanging off of the roof. However, with his leg throbbing, Damon knew that he wouldn’t be able to pick himself back up without using his hands. With both Rheawien and the sword to worry about, Damon knew that he couldn’t afford to be put in such a compromising position.

Thus, instead of getting up, Damon remained kneeling. His wounded calf remained on the ground awkwardly, as the boy supported himself with his good leg and other knee. With one hand ready on his longsword to deflect another attack from his opponent, Damon began to rifle through his pockets. He was wont for ideas, but there was one last thing that he thought he could do. The moment that Rheawien got up, Damon was going to have to strike. In the meantime, it would be enough for him to neutralize her, the boy was certain that Ashiakin could take care of the other Blaneblade and then come to rescue him. However, if she were to get up, Damon needed to strike.

He took a stone out from his pocket, and weighed it in his right hand. It was small and round, a bit dusty but undoubtedly hard enough to do a bit of damage if thrown with the requisite force. Damon had initially picked it up not as a weapon, but because its smoothness had provided an aesthetic that appealed to him. However, the LCC was now calling for creative thinking, and that was all that Damon could muster. If his opponent got up, Damon would throw the rock at her temple. If she moved in any closer, the boy would use his tornado.

In the interim Damon would remain silent, trying to conceal his pain. He was fed up enough with his opponent that he wouldn’t have wanted to give her the satisfaction that she had hurt him.

[Ashiakin]

As Ashiakin crept up the stairs as noiselessly as possible, he heard the beginnings of a scuffle somewhere far above his head. Evidently Damon has encountered one of the Baneblades, he realized. ... Or both of them. The battle sounds were too vague and far away for Ashiakin to be able to decipher the number of participants, but it set him to worrying all the same. Whether or not he was worried for Damon’s safety or worried about the fact that fighting two opponents at once would make his Serenti defeat all the harder to avenge was difficult to tell. It was likely a little of both.

Throughout his recent days in Lornius, Ashiakin had spent much time wondering about this boy that called himself Damon Kaosi. The demon had set several of the agents in his personal spy network to looking into the child’s elusive past. Despite their search—which largely entailed interrogating patrons of local bars and plumbing the depths of the Lyridian library that held little more than casino records and racy travelogues—no history of Damon emerged. No one had heard of him prior to a few weeks ago. Unless, of course, you asked about the dead elven general Damon Kaosi. Everyone had heard of him. But he was thought to have died several months before the child calling himself Damon arose. Many of his agents felt this lent to the idea that he was the old Damon reborn. Ashiakin deplored rumor and superstition, but even he was beginning to admit that the coincidence was troubling. At the least, there was more to Damon than he knew. Than anyone knew, it seemed. Not even the boy himself.

Despite his uncertainty, the noises of combat above had sent Ashiakin creeping up the stairs more quickly. No matter who his partner really was, the boy’s naiveté and hero worship were too steadfast to crumple in the final moments of the round. He would need the child alive to be able to dispatch the Baneblades. He needed Damon so that he could slay Asuka and avenge his Serenti defeat, so that a victory here would cause the specter of Salvar’s burgeoning empire to loom all the closer over Lornius. Although they might not know it, his foes stood against his own personal redemption and the progress of humankind’s greatest kingdom. If they were unaware, he would enlighten them.

I’ve come to far to be defeated now, Ashiakin knew. No matter who Damon is, I’ll save him. If it turns out that he really is some dead elf reborn, if he suffers some sort of a backlash to his former nobility and wants half of my dukedom, he can always die again. But the thought of having to kill the boy made Ashiakin cringe. He felt guilty immediately. Though he’d never say so, he was fond of the boy. It was refreshing to see that kind of genuine innocence when you lived in the world Ashiakin did. Isn’t it? he wondered. Or did I just find that innocence horrifying a moment ago?

The demon had been so lost in his own thoughts that he did not notice he had stepped onto the same level he had earlier entered through a window. Ashiakin’s eyes moved over the broken glass on the floor to the shattered window. Something felt wrong about this place. Quiet as everything seemed, he had an eerie feeling that he was not alone. He stepped quickly and carefully over the broken glass, but paused when he was in the middle of the room. Despite the obvious danger, all he could think about was how ridiculous he must look. His white hair ruffled, his fine silky clothes torn and unkempt, his skin flecked with droplets of dark blue blood where it had been torn by shards of glass. How he stood there clutching a sword and a dagger, looking cautious.

Suddenly—only a few split seconds after he had stepped off the stairs and into the room, but an eternity in combat time—he had a realization. Under the stairs behind his back, there was a large web of shadows. That has to be where she’s hiding… he thought. It has to be Asuka, she was on the first floor only moments ago and she couldn’t have gotten far by now. Oh… To be this close to vengeance. Fast as he could, well realizing that Asuka might already be moving to strike him, the demon whirled around and let his dagger fly into the shadows. Aiming had been difficult due to the speed he had required and the vague target area, but he hoped it might hit her.

“Stand and face me, Asuka!” he hissed, quickly slipping into a fighting stance with his sword. “I’m sick of us all crawling around this pagoda like worms. Let’s end this now. Let’s see the Serenti crushed under the weight of an empire.” She likely didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. But Ashiakin was beyond caring. He stood in the middle of the room, halfway between the shadows under the stair and the light pouring in through the broken window, poised to move either way.

[Rheawien]

While her first attack on the legendary Damon was only partially successful, her second one failed utterly. The longsword scudded through the air soundlessly, carried on the wings of her telekinetic energy, and yet the young, seemingly gullible elf managed to predict it. And it wasn’t the sheer fluke kind of anticipation, the kind that tingled your gut at just the right moment, sending out the message that something was amiss. No, Damon moved with a purpose, like a cat that could discern the position of her attacker just by listening. He somehow knew that the swords was coming at him, felt it darting for his blind spot with an intention to end this conflict. Rheawien got a feeling that he could’ve parried the airborne sword even if she plucked his eyes out.

“What did you expect from the fabled Damon Kaosi? Easy pickings?” No, she didn’t. In fact, she expected a great deal more, a man that would overwhelm her, somebody that looked like Letho on some serious drugs. Someone battle-hardy, an embodiment of a perfect warrior that ripped vampires in shreds with his bare hands while shooting lightning bolts out of his eyes. A war machine set on kill. Instead, before her stood a touch-and-go boy that seemed uncertain and had a certain air of naivety around him. That was bound to be her trump card, her money maker.

Damon was down on all fours just like she was, his eyes predatory as they stood focused on her slumped body. He was like a bullet that waited for an expression of enmity to serve him as a trigger to rush forward and show his true face. The face of the real Damon Kaosi, the one that led the Brotherhood as the Aegis and slain vampires by the dozen. Or so she thought. Either way, she decided not to give him a plausible reason to attack her at this moment. She recollected the animal from before again, the one that remained calm as the enemy approached. That remained calm when it poked her with the stick. That remained calm when it gazed at her with anger.

“Please, I... I’m sorry, Aegis.” she started humbly, staying on all fours and bowing her head even lower. She hoped that the mention of his old title would gain at least a fragment of his trust, just enough for her plan to succeed. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just overheard the rumor that your have returned and I wanted to... test you, I guess. To see are you the real Damon Kaosi.” she looked at him with what seemed like genuine remorse, her real intentions hidden all too well behind her womanly charms. Because nobody could serve a more believable lie then a woman on her knees.

“I can see now that my doubts were unnecessary. I will yield to you.” she spoke, her right hand grasping the hilt of her katana and unsheathing it slowly, all traces of her battle fury effaced. Her pale hand lowered the blade to the floor before the white-haired elf crawled a couple of feet away from it, ultimately spreading her hands at her side to mimic that she is not a threat anymore. She slowly rose up, holding her hands at her sides. “What happened? When you left the Brotherhood crumbled and now the Sanctuary lies in shambles. Do you mean to rebuild it? Or do you follow some other agenda now, siding with that ice demon in the name of Salvar?”

She knew there was not a chance in hell that she could get on the good side of the elf given the situation. Battlefields were seldom places where enemies spoke truthfully and after the tricks she played on him, he was bound to keep an attentive eye on her regardless of what she spoke. But there was a hope that her honest atonement and her voluptuous body would veil Damon’s eyes just enough to render his premonition useless. Rheawien decided to drop the bomb.

“I would still be your captain, Aegis.” she spoke, offering a mild smile and an insidious glance that made her visage regain some of the elven fairness. She knew there was no time like right now to act. The forefinger and the middle finger on both of her hands joined, Rhea flicking them upwards first, then pointing them at the boy. In sync with her fingers, the two blades – the one that Damon parried already and the one that the half-elf set on the polished floor – sprung to life as if they were picked up with unseen hands, their tips leveling with the wounded elf. She puckered up her lips for a fraction of a second, sending him a treacherous kiss as a harbinger of the blade driven by the power of her mind.

[AsukaStrikes]

Asuka saw the pale complexion of the ice elemental emerge through the doorway and trudge into the room, ruffled and scraped up like someone who had been thrown into the streets of Lyridia. The air about him remained cold and unwelcoming, however, washing over the arena like the unrelenting winter gust. She eyed the ancient uneasily, watching his every move in anticipation of an attack that could well happen in the bink of an eye.

I shall not fear...

Asuka kept saying the words in her head, clearing her mind of any second thoughts and hesitations. Her foe was an ice elemental, after all, and ice magic would no doubt be thrown into play. But she had no way of being able to counteract such an offensive, being that she had no knowledge of the Lore magic or elemental magic herself. If the Salvic demon decided to just freeze her over, there was little she could do afterwards.

I must not fear...

The swordmaiden feebly tightened her grip, sweat draining off her brows as she waited against the outer wall of the room. Ashiakin should definitely be able to see her clearly even with the shadow of the stone walls encapsulating the central stairwell cloaking her frail figure.

The tension was palpable. The lass could see the realization on Ashiakin's face that they were in the same room and she knew that the battle was coming to an end. Now that the two warring parties were on the same page...

...Let the slaughterfest begin.

Ashiakin was the first to strike, sending his dagger flying at the stone walls shielding the stairwell. The metal instrument bounced harmlessly off the soolid surface, leaving only a tiny white streak where mythril met stone. But it was a pointless attack in the minds of the Akashiman.

It surprised Asuka that the ice demon could not see her standing there, just off to the right of the window he had broken through, a blood-soaked sword clutched feebly in her torn hand. But it could just be a ruse on his part.

I must win.

"Get your eyes checked, Ashiakin." Asuka sneered at her foe, side-stepping out from the shadow while keeping her back to the outer wall. The glass crunching under her feet as she stopped in front of the open window, standing at the ready. Asuka herself looked no better than the ice demon standing with his back to the lass; her hair was a mess of copper locks caked with sweat. The muddy-brown sleeveless jacket and leather tanktop was streaked with red from her hands, some of the liquid dotting the side of her pants as well. It was a pointless move on her part as well, throwing herself into full view of her opponent. But she had already done what was needed.

No more running away.

"I don't care what you say, O, Emissary of Salvar." She mocked him, trying to get the demon on edge. If he thought killing her would be as easy as he thought... "The only thing that would be crushed under the weight of the Empire here... would be you."

He was definitely going to find it very humiliating.

[INDK]

Damon looked on towards his opponent fervently. The round stone fell from his hand limply to the ground, and lip quavered. It just seemed so unfair, so utterly frustrating that this lady would try and offer to reform a group that Damon now knew could never exist again. It had been the work of the old Damon… someone else, someone who probably could live up to all the expectations about tearing vampires to shreds with bare hands and putting on an amazing show for the fans in Lornius. Now, the boy didn’t know what he was capable of, or even what it was that he should be doing. All he knew though, was it must have been tough for him in his past life, if he had been forced to live with all these expectations.

At first, he had taken the name Damon Kaosi as if it was like a piece of jewelry. A pretty little ornament that he could wear over his chest, impressing everyone he saw with it. Now, he really understood what being a legend was. It wasn’t a piece of jewelry, but a giant milstone tied around his neck, or a piece of clothing that was just small enough that no matter how he wore it, he would always be naked. Damon didn’t like the fact that his LCC opponent now seemed more interested in reviving the brotherhood, or that the fans outside were chanting for him to perform some kind of stunt for him.

“I- I can’t do any of that,” the boy said earnestly. “I’m Damon, but I’m still just a boy ma’am. I can’t make the Brotherhood again, I don’t have the leadership, and I wouldn’t want someone like you to have to take orders from me. You seem to know what you’re doing much better.”

The boy wondered how it was that this lady could have been a captain in the Brotherhood before anyways. He didn’t know exactly what a captain was, but given the often positive use that went along with the title, he assumed it was a position of high authority. He also knew that he had been the Aegis, and that everyone had listened to him in the past. It presented Damon with a paradox, one that he didn’t know if he could easily explain. “Would I have said it was alright for her to cut my calf?” Damon thought. “A hero would never give that kind of permission… did she listen to me in the Brotherhood? Was I a good leader?”

It was the first time that Damon had ever considered his own fallibility. Everything else, up to this point, the boy had been confident. He had taken it for granted that he would win the LCC because of the legends about him and the hard work he’d done for preparation, only to find out that he would need a partner. He had been chosen as the partner of an ancient Althanian legend and future Lornius duke in Ashiakin. Any fears he’d had then had been sublimated because of the faith that Damon had put into his partner.

Now, Damon was beginning to wonder if he would have ever been able to carry the load that his partner was going to need of him. As a legend in his own right, Damon should have been able to give Ashiakin all the support needed. However, the boy had not only come to the Pagoda late, now he had been hobbled by one of his opponents, someone who was supposedly one of his underlings in the Brotherhood before.

Timidly, Damon spoke some more. “Can you tell me I was a good leader?” he asked. “I would really like….”

Then, a searing pain dove right into Damon’s side as a sword jutted right below his arm. It had gone deep, deep enough to be a mortal wound, but it wouldn’t cripple the boy completely. With his spells and determination, Damon knew that he still had time to do one last tornado before he fell down to the ground and died.

“You… you witch!” the boy exclaimed, looking at Rheawien with not anger, but complete disappointment. “How could you ever have claimed to know Damon Kaosi.” The boy got up and lunged towards her, just as the second blade came towards him and lodged straight within his shoulder. He cringed in pain again, spit out a bit of blood and continued to surge forward, moving under the grace of adrenaline and desire alone.

With one last gust of breath, the boy surged forward and ignited a laser tornado around him. It was a final act of redemption, that he would be able to take the lady out of the equation so that Ashiakin would be able to win the tournament after all.

“I can’t let Ashiakin down,” Damon thought determinedly. “Legend or not.”

For soon, Damon would be dead. That was the solace to which all legends were entitled.

[Rheawien]

((I jumped ahead in the posting order because my conclusion has nothing to do with Ashiakin or Asuka and the closing time nears. I hope you guys don't mind.))

Rheawien wanted to laugh manically once she saw her two blades finding new home in the flesh of the youngish elf. She never exactly hated Damon while he was the Aegis and she had to answer to him like a common underling, and she didn’t hate him when the draw presented him as her opponent. Hate was too strong of an emotion to be taken lightly and to be directed towards people that oftentimes didn’t deserve it. But it wasn’t like she exactly liked the vampire slayer either. Partially it was her envy that fueled that dislike, envy towards the boy that accomplished so much while still being wet-behind-the-ears in many things. The other part was just her spite towards authority, because no matter how wise and powerful people above her were, she just knew she could do better. Even if, in fact, she couldn’t.

However, while she was a frigid bitch, there was enough of a soft spot to suppress the mocking of a fallen opponent. Instead she opted for a cryptic smirk, the dominant kind that her Mistress Sarah liked to use, that told you loud and clear: “I have beaten you. I have overcome you. I am better then you.”. Her eyes only supported that expression, looking down on the fallen lad, spreading the air of supremacy like a twisted perfume. Rhea walked confidently towards Damon, one foot before the other, both horrible and beautiful in her feminine movements. She just brought the great Damon Kaosi to his knees, slain the fabled slayer, and now was the time for her to show it to the world. She wanted to grab his dying body and throw it to the crowds, to show them how mislead they were and how misdirected their praises were.

“Honey, I knew Damon Kaosi. And you’re not him.” her voice came as the salt to the wound, her hourglass figure pausing as he put her hands on her curvy hips and she looked at his drawing in his last breath. It turned out to be a bad decision. Because even as his body slumped lifelessly on the cold polished floor, the air thickened, condensed and then simply exploded in utter chaos. Her body was flung backwards vehemently, her hands reaching for the window frame just in time to prevent her from being evicted from the premises. But that too only lasted for a couple of seconds, because within the whirlwind that raged around the fallen elf, a myriad of uncanny projectiles made out of light moved. Two burst through her thigh like an arrow, one singing her shoulder and another passing through her forearm as if it was butter. The pain was unbearable, the burning sensation amplified by the perforation wound, and combined it was more then enough to weaken the grasp of her fingers.

Her body was rifled through the window, sent on a rapidly descending course towards the masses that cheered and instantly moved away from what was bound to become a bloody crash site. There were no harnesses to save her, no ropes that dangled from the top, no dues ex machina that would prevent her from colliding with the ground below. Though she didn’t realize it, she was screaming in a high-pitched voice that silenced the crowds instantly as she freefell from about fourth storey of the pagoda.

“Killed by bloody gravity.” darted through her mind, and then, fraction of a second later: “I don’t think so.”

The fingers of her hands splayed, the half-elf pointing them towards the ground, and in the enduring scream she launched the full power of her telekinesis towards the ground. It was a forceful outburst of her power, the peak of her current power, and even as the telekinetic cone struck the ground, it retroactively pushed her body up, dampening the impact. However, it was far from enough to stop Rheawien from falling. Her feet made contact, and though she instinctively threw her body in a forwards spin, there was still too much power behind her fall. Her leg snapped beneath her, her shoulder collided with the ground and popped out of the joint, making her yelp in pain. The mass was silent, looking down at the broken elf that barely had strength to draw shallow breaths as pain ripped through her body relentlessly.

“It’s the bitch.” somebody said, and somebody else added: “Where is Damon?”

Through all the pain and agony that came as a result of broken bones, the half-elf managed lift her head just enough to look up at a random face in the crowd. The mischievous smile was cocked, locked and ready to make her day.

“Damon is dead, nitwits.”

[Sighter Tnailog]

Battle Judging

Blank v. Baneblades

Wow. This battle was tough judging – you were fairly evenly matched, making it exceedingly difficult to determine differences between certain areas. Thanks for giving me a great battle to read – and a headache to judge!

In light of this fact, I’m going to do something I rarely do: give the same scores in certain areas, across the board. I’m giving 9s to all four of you in Character. While some of you I think may have done a bit better than others, in the end I got the definite feeling that these differences were too minute to warrant a subjective individual giving them gradation. All four of you depict realistic characters with interesting motives, and use truly artistic and realistic methods to portray your characters. Kudos. Since most of what I have to say with Dialogue applies to character, I won’t comment on those individual sections – but I have chosen to give slightly different scores based on how good I thought your dialogue was.

But what’s more, I’m doing it again! You all get 6s across the board in Rising Action. You kept the intensity up, I never could quite guess ahead at what would happen, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. As usual, though…lack of conclusion necessarily hurts the rising action. Rising action moves into something, it doesn’t just exist on its own. I have, however, elected to give Rheawien a half-point advantage in this category: she had a conclusion, so she deserves a bit of a break.

There were enough differences in your work to merit different strategy scores, but there was one thing all of you did well. I’m going to say it here instead of parroting myself four times. You all were willing to take hits, and sometimes pursue a strategy that maybe wasn’t the smartest or the most intelligent, but was totally appropriate to your character. No longer will strategy be considered how sweet your moves are – it is now how well your moves relate to your character in general. And all of you did a great job in this department.

Blank

INDK

INTRODUCTION ~ 7. Solid. You situated it in time, provided reasons for the battle, and did a really top-notch job in explaining how the arena had been set up using an omniscient voice prior to the shift into a more limited, Damon-centered perspective. This is what we look for in introductions. While it may not have been the best ever – it seems maybe a tad formulaic – it deserves praise for its solidity.
SETTING ~ 7.5. Excellent job describing the setting. While I maybe would like a bit more description to make it really feel like a true location, you basically set it up so there was no choice but for players to engage the objects in the world and do the best with what they have. You also did a good job of describing the Lornians as setting up the battle for what is an eminently Lornian purpose: making money. This is good, as it establishes where the setting is in relation to a broader world, not merely where the setting is in relation to your character.
STRATEGY ~ 8 Your strategy may not have always been wise. It may often have been simply Damon rushing headlong into places where he should have stepped back and taken another look. Maybe he should have been quieter. But that’s not the point: the point is that the actions you took very truly revealed your character’s motives and mentality. Furthermore, I must admit to have really liked your desperate plea to the monk. You knew it wouldn’t work, and so did Damon, but it was totally fitting with Damon’s character at that point in time. Sometimes, a failed strategy is the best strategy of all. I had considered giving you a half-point edge over everyone else because of this, but that part where you rummaged through your pockets seemed a bit strange – like you were taking too much time. Something about it seemed a bit incredible. Maybe this was something that should be dealt with in Writing Style, but either way, it’s only half a point.
WRITING STYLE ~ 7. You write well, as always, with a command of English and an always interesting diction and tone. Occasionally, I saw flaws, such as repeated words without any clear literary purpose to the repetition, or sentences that seem to stretch on beyond necessity. For example, in your first post, you say, “The boy hadn’t intended to be so distracted, but he had been so busy practicing his drills that he had completely forgotten the time.” “Despite contrary intentions, he got distracted while practicing his drills and completely forgot the time.” Taking out all those helping verbs and infinitives really tightens up the narrative and lets you say more with less. It’s also more exciting in a battle. I understand the usage of the tense in order to show time placement, but I find English to be much more exciting when you stick to past tense – all those perfects and participles get rather boring. Also, another thing: “He only hoped that Ashiakin could forgive him.” Why not, “He only hoped Ashiakin could forgive him”? It takes out the “that.” Taking out “thats” is one of the best ways to get rid of excess words. We use them far too much.
RISING ACTION ~ 6
DIALOGUE ~ 7
CLIMAX ~ 5. It came almost too suddenly – like you were nearing the end of the round and had to get it out there. But you still had one.
CHARACTER ~ 9
CONCLUSION ~ 2. While what you posted wasn’t really a conclusion, it could be seen as a kind of conclusion. So I’ll give you a couple points.
WILD CARD ~ 7. A strong battle, overall, with several flaws. Lack of a conclusion and some Writing Style/Strategy difficulties hurt you in the same way they hurt everyone else.
TOTAL ~ 65.5

Ashiakin

INTRODUCTION ~ 10. Excellent! I’ve been judging a long time, so it’s rare for me to stumble across an introductory scenario I haven’t seen before, but you surprised me. Not only did you do what an introduction should do, but you did it with concision. You managed to exhibit strong characterization, too, something not usually seen in introductions. The real kicker, though, has got to be the creativity. Often, when I give scores to people who do well, I usually stick to 7s, 8s, and the occasional 9, because while they may write well and do the job that’s set to them, there’s really not a lot about it that’s inspired. But you wowed me here. Congratulations.
SETTING ~ 7.5. While there wasn’t quite as much description as I would have liked, I still felt like you were actually in a place as you battled. It was, however, sometimes rather hard to tell where you were at any given time. How many levels was the pagoda? That sort of detail seemed lacking. But you did do one thing at the start that impressed me: you defined the scents of Lyridia. It’s that sort of thing I’ve been trying to get people to do for ages. A setting is so much more than its scenery.
STRATEGY ~ 8. Beautiful strategy – and your depiction of Ashiakin’s ice magic getting weaker as he used it more was well-done, I like to see people taking things like that and really making them shine. You used your skills in a creative way, and when you slid down the rope to come up behind the others – that’s classic Ashiakin. He’s cool, calm, collected – and he’s willing to sacrifice anyone to get what he wants, even if that person’s name is Damon.
WRITING STYLE ~ 8.5. What I said to INDK about some word repetition applies to you too. At one point you say the word “match” twice in as many sentences. While it may seem like a small thing – only twice! – when you do things like that close together it can jar the reader, especially if the reader is anything like me. However, what I said to INDK about crafting your posts tighter doesn’t really apply – I think you do a good job of removing superfluity, for the most part, and so I gave you an ever-so-slight edge in this category.
RISING ACTION ~ 6
DIALOGUE ~ 8
CLIMAX ~ 0
CHARACTER ~ 9
CONCLUSION ~ 0
WILD CARD ~ 8. I thought you did the best job in the writing department, but you were hurt by the same problems as the others. I wish this battle had finished.
TOTAL ~ 65

TEAM SCORE ~ 65.25

Baneblades

AsukaStrikes

INTRODUCTION ~ 7. What I have to say is virtually similar to what I said to Damon. Although you didn’t work to situate what went between rounds, like I’ve seen some other people do, I can’t really fault you for it. One gets the feeling from your work that something as silly as intervening time isn’t worth discussing, that the present matters, that time as it exists now is the only time to care about. While it’s not traditional, I’m not one to deduct points because you did things a bit differently. As it stands, you were still solidly placed and provided good reasons for what you were doing, in addition to some fine characterization. That’s what we ask for.
SETTING ~ 6. I felt like you were in a world and using its pieces, although I could always ask for more description and explanation of your surroundings. But, since it wasn’t contingent on you to make the arena, I’m not taking off too many points for a lack of extensive description; that’s the luxury you get for not posting first.
STRATEGY ~ 7. All in all, I thought it was good. You got hurt, you got hit, and you were creative. But you sometimes seemed to be trailing behind your opponents – if they grabbed onto the rope in one post, you were sure to do it in the next – and I found it very difficult to follow your final exchange with Ashiakin. From what I could tell of both your previous post and his, you said she was standing in front of the central stairwell. But in your next post, you were in front of the window. The change may be the fault of setting and description, but I decided to include it here because the misunderstanding provided a fundamental advantage in your strategy. Here’s a good rule of thumb: if your opponent sends a projectile somewhere that you aren’t located, but your previous post left doubt as to where you WERE located, give your opponent the benefit of the doubt. A flaw in your description should not serve as a handicap on your opponent.
WRITING STYLE ~ 7. You write a lot like me, Asuka. You tend to have excellent grammar and craftsmanship in your posts, but you make mistakes sometimes that I don’t think you intend – omitting words and casual misspellings. I do the same thing, and one of the things I’ve had to learn is to reread and reread and reread. Don’t feel bad editing a post you made a long time ago, too, as long as you’re making germane edits. No one will fault you for changing “commense” to “commence.” I would, as I said to Damon in the Introduction category, call your style “Solid, but maybe formulaic.” Since I’m virtually describing myself, maybe we can agree to work on this together.
RISING ACTION ~ 6
DIALOGUE ~ 7.5
CLIMAX ~ 0
CHARACTER ~ 9
CONCLUSION ~ 0
WILD CARD ~ 7. A good showing, even if the lack of climax/conclusion hurt the final score. You probably would have had something like a 60 with them.
TOTAL ~ 56.5

Rheawien

INTRODUCTION ~ 7. The comments I made to Asuka and Damon pretty much sum up anything I could say here. Refer to those sections for an understanding of the reasoning behind this number.
SETTING ~ 6. See comments on Asuka’s Setting section.
STRATEGY ~ 8 It was smart and effective, and grabbing Damon’s leg on the way down was a particularly interesting way of escaping the trap set for you by Ashiakin. One thing, though…try not to jump through windows. It’s pretty much a surefire way to kill your character, or at least badly injure them. As Intuitor.com, a website that tracks the use and abuse of physics in movies, states, “There are individuals who have accidentally fallen through windows without sustaining serious injuries. There are also people who have survived the Ebola virus. However, in both cases the odds are not particularly good.” But I decided to give you back the points you’d lose for your brilliant baiting tactic – I’d never thought of using telepathy that way, and it was a smart move.
WRITING STYLE ~ 7.5. I’m impressed, Rheawien. Your work with Jared, while admittedly a different character with a different voice, has sometimes shown a tendency to be overwritten and maybe a tad too long. But in this, you’ve really proven to me that your writing is beginning to mature into an art form in which words are picked with care and not simply thrown around for the sake of vocabulary. You have made tremendous improvement from the last time I judged something of yours; you have a ways to go yet, but you have given my great confidence. For improvement, I would suggest looking over some of the things I have said to the others in this judging – most of what I say to them is applicable to you too. Continue to be careful with your words, and you’ll get better.
RISING ACTION ~ 6
DIALOGUE ~ 7.5 Oh, and Rheawien, I know you didn’t know I’d be the judge…but insulting song magic isn’t a good idea. ;) I’ll overlook it this time.
CLIMAX ~ 5. See comments on Damon’s.
CHARACTER ~ 9
CONCLUSION ~ 5. You had one, but it seemed rather forced, and intended to just get that finality in before the tournament ends. While I appreciate the effort, and therefore am not giving you the 4 I considered, there is one thing that must be mentioned. It can be considered a bit of a faux pas to post a conclusion in a tournament battle near the very end. I know that Damon and Ashiakin had decided not to post conclusions in order to keep from having an unfair advantage. Since you didn’t know that – and, in the future, Shyam and Adam, y’all should let your opponents know your intention too – I’m not subtracting points for it. The 5 is purely because it all felt so quick that I couldn’t get the full benefit from it.
WILD CARD ~ 7. Quite good, but with a few flaws.
TOTAL ~ 68

TEAM SCORE ~ 62.25

Battle Victor: Blank

EXP REWARDS

INDK gains 724 EXP!
Ashiakin gains 720 EXP!
AsukaStrikes gains 57 EXP!
Rheawien gains 68 EXP!

GP REWARDS

AsukaStrikes and Rheawien gain 400 GP each as a consolation prize.
INDK and Ashiakin gain 100 GP each.

OTHER REWARDS

INDK receives a cheap cloth bracelet inscribed with the letters “W.W.A.D. – What Would Ashiakin Do?” Little does he know the answer: massacre a small village.

Ashiakin receives a t-shirt that says, “I Hate My Fans.” He is required to wear it in Round Three of the LCC or face severe displeasure at the hands of the tournament authorities.

Rheawien gets a small toy. At one end of a string is a plastic doll, and at the other end of the string is an extremely tiny, to-scale sword. By yelling “Go!” the owner of the toy causes the sword to fly at the doll, puncturing it. Remove the sword and try again!

AsukaStrikes receives a letter from a secret admirer. Perhaps someone in the crowd wasn’t as angry as she thought?

[Thoracis]

Rewards Added!