SHOOT ME: Dra vs. Jacob Narmolanya

[Dra]

He really wanted to take a nap. That's all that he wanted to do.

Sitting atop his island in the middle of his makeshift waterfall, Dra was consumed by that one desire. While he knew that a person was coming to fight him and indeed knew that person's name and their fighting capabilities, he just couldn't get in the mindset to care. Though he automatically respected them for their willingness to fight in such conditions and was even ecstatic that they decided to choose him, he just couldn't get into it. Even with his sleep already resting calmly in the double digits, he still didn't want to try and pry himself away from unconsciousness' sweet embrace. The dreams were simply too sweet to escape.

Even so, he had to try.

Standing up, he jumped across the divide of bath oils that separated his small island from the rest of his domicile. There, amongst random chairs and tables, he took a seat so that he could catalog the interesting things in the room without tiring himself out. The description came rather straight-forward into his mind.

Even without looking, he knew what he come from a moment before. The great construction in the middle of the room was also its centerpiece (oddly enough). Essentially a sort of fragrant oil spilling water fountain, its design was meant to simulate a number of waterfalls in tandem. This was produced by having it formed from a number of tiered, overlapping stone basins that overflowed the bath oils at different times and heights. Six in total, they were each a different color to tint the oil. Also all of them but for the lowest one were the same oval shape and about two feet in length. They piled one upon the other to produce a semi-circle from whose top bath and other oils constantly flowed. At the bottom the widest of the basins held his small island in its center and had draining canals running to the walls from each of its four cardinal directions.

Beyond describing that, things got rather simple. Otherwise in the room there were four thin pillars spaced evenly around the fountain, a number of randomly discarded steel pieces and furniture, and a circular white-washed wall that extended around the room. Upon that wall, and seemingly the only colorful decoration beyond the bath oils, were a series of drawings of varying quality. While some were ornate—detailing epic histories and battles in disturbing clarity—others were seemingly drawn by children, or more likely Dra, with finger paint.

That was all there was to it.

Having finished his examination of the room, its owner decided that there was absolutely nothing fun to do. Thus, with that convenient little observation, he laid his head down upon the desk and promptly, some would say superhumanly fast, went to sleep.

His opponent could wake him up if he wanted to fight.

((OOC: Sorry about the crappy post.))

[Jake Narmolanya]

"Listen lady, if you can't tell me where Dra's arena is, can you at least describe it to me?"
"Kid, if I told you what the place looks like, you wouldn't believe me."

Jacob Narmolanya turned his head and gave the Dajas Pagoda secretary a strange look. One eyebrow raised, the other scrunched downwards, it was clear the a visual way of calling the lady crazy. She returned the boy's look unflinchingly, staring over the top of her standard-issue half moon secretary spectacles. Eventually Jake's eyes dried out and his face started to hurt from the odd position, so he blinked and sighed.

"Just describe it as best you can," he told the secretary, speaking very patiently, "I need to build a mental picture in order to get there."

As the woman painted a picture in Jake's mind, he did his best to believe her and focus on keeping the image in his head. It wasn't easy, and at times he wondered if some standard-issue psychedelics had come with the secretary's spectacles, but eventually he had a decent vision in his mind's eyes. The boy focused for a moment, drawing on the power of the eagle quill in his pocket, and suddenly a wooden door appeared before him. Ignoring the gasp of surprise from the lady behind the desk, Jake tipped her a wink and stepped through the doorway, his cheery voice hanging in the air.

"Wish me luck!"

The room inspired awe even though he knew what to expect. Fragrant colored water cascaded in sheets down the length of a massive, many-levelled water fountain. The water seemed to magically change in color at each level, and the smells that came from each basin mingled into a powerful aroma that set the boy's head spinning. But the oddities did not end there. The artwork on the walls looked to have been provided by two different decorators; the first a reknowned critic with a fine taste for battle scenes, and the second a too-proud mom who thought her baby's artwork deserved to be on display. Jake unshouldered his bow and used the tip to scratch his head. The motion displaced his cap slightly, and a few dirty blond locks fell from beneath the peaked headwear. The boy shook his hair out of his eyes and resumed his examination of the room.

It seemed plain enough that the island he stood on would be the place of combat, but it was a little cluttered. Bizarre furniture lay strewn about the space, as if left there by a band of movers in a hurry. It was as his eyes sorted through the messy collection that Jake spotted Dra.

His first thought was that someone else had beaten him to the arena and killed the Pagoda Warrior. A brief moment of panic later Jake noticed that the hierarch's chest was moving.

"Why is he sleeping? Should I just kill him? That'd be the easiest way to win..."

Jacob had approached the Dajas Pagoda as a way of testing himself. He intended to challenge hierarchs of every tier and, if he could, defeat the legendary grandmaster. It would serve to show him how far his combat skills had come, and also make him enough money that he wouldn't have to steal any more horses for awhile. Ever since he had been charged with the task of hunting down and destroying demons, Jake had felt bad about stealing. But in the end, the half elf needed to eat. Challenging a warrior of the Pagoda helped him kill two birds with one stone; it gave him a chance to test his skills and make some quick cash.

The boy weaved through the disarrayed furniture until he stood a mere metre away from his sleeping opponent. Still unsure of what to do, he reached out and poked his bow at Dra's midsection.

"Hey," he called in a half-whisper, "umm... can we start fighting now?"

[Dra]

The adage “don't wake a sleeping bear” is a practical one. No one in their right mind should ever attempt to wrest a bear from sleep—regardless of its specific species, age or sex—unless they wish to be mauled to, if not death, an extreme likeness of it. Thankfully for his opponent, who was rather brave, or stupid, to approach a sleeping figure in ignorance, Dra was not a bear. He was, in fact, a man; a young, perpetually out-of-it man who wasn't particularly good with mornings, evenings, or any other time that could have something to do with sleep.

That was why, against all common knowledge about how to run a fighting arena, he was asleep. Thankfully, his opponent wasn't the type to kick a man when they were unconscious. Instead, he liked to poke them. Not in a perverted way mind you, but instead with the tip of his bow. He did this multiple times while also calling timidly for his opponent to wake until finally, suddenly he did.

Raising his head up from the table, his opponent was greeted with the vision of a man from whose face hung a large, ebon mass. Some three or four inches in diameter, it covered most of his right cheek and resembled a series of overlapping strings. Though at first it merely held its place, it began to peel off as the man started into a yawn. By its end, some forty-five seconds later, it had managed to totally remove itself and had, in fact, begun to unravel in the air nearby. By then it was reasonably obvious what it was.

Known as a Squiggle, or Squiggy or Squig for short, it was a magician's familiar made entirely of ink. Created a number of years ago during a trip to market, it had over the years proved an invaluable friend to the traveler and had gotten him out of many tight spots. As for during Dra's brief nap, it seemed its function was to act as a pillow or cushion to prevent his face from being marked by the designs inlaid into the surface of the table. The plan had worked.

As he stared at his opponent with his face as immaculate as ever, Dra couldn't help but yawn again.

After he was finished his opponent asked again, perhaps less timidly than before, “Can we start fighting now?”

Blinking his sleep away as best he could, the Warrior mulled over it for a bit and then raised his hand, presenting one finger as a sign to wait. Slipping calmly from his chair, he made his way through the maze of discarded furniture and proceeded around the edge of the fountain. There he stayed for a couple of minutes with his back turned to his opponent as he took part in a ritual common to every man. Its sound was covered up by the larger waterfalls in the area.

Once he was done, he cleansed himself in some of the more potent oils, turned back to his opponent and nodded. Whether or not the man knew exactly what that action meant, he didn't care. In fact, he didn't really know either; he just thought it was the right thing to do. All that his opponent really needed to know was just what he was about to tell him.

Standing just beyond the furniture, with his Squig hovering above his left shoulder, he spoke to his opponent.

“I think I'm ready now. Thanks for not poking me with something... pokier before; I just really wanted to take a nap for some reason. It gets really boring in here sometimes when the monks aren't around to play. Anyway, I'm Dra if you haven't figured that out. We can start trying to kill each other whenever you're ready. ... You can go ahead and get in a better position if you want to; I don't mind.”

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake recoiled in horror at the bizarre black blotch on Dra's face. The... thing... clung to Dra and followed him as he walked away. The warrior didn't seem to be taking any ill effects from its presence. Gradually, Jake's pounding heart resumed its normal pace, but his mind was in disarray.

His head spun like a clock on fast forward.

First the arena. It looked more like an expensive halfway house for druidic potion junkies than a battle ground. Second, the man who resided in the arena. Jake wondered if perhaps Dra had too much time on his hands. The Pagoda Warrior seemed like anything but. Carrying no weapons that Jake could see, he certainly didn't have the athletic frame one would expect from such a prestigious combattant. Rather than getting the fight started the peculiar man turned his back and relieved himself. Jake took the oppurtunity to knock an iron broadpoint arrow onto his bowstring. The recurve bent as he drew half way.

An uncharacteristically morbid thought ocurred to the half elf. Should he put an arrow in Dra's back then and there? The boy had come in search of a fight after all, not a pissing contest. If he feathered the fellow he would automatically advance to the next tier of competition. Hopefully the Pagoda Masters would take their work more seriously. Jake stood like a statue, considering his options while his opponent finished up. In the end, it just wasn't in the archer's nature to shoot a man in the back.

Finally, the man seemed to have said his piece. "Get into a better position? there is no better position in this place. It's going to be like fighting in an out of work carpenter's shop!" Jake had been waiting, hoping against hope that Dra would pull an unseen weapon and quickly denounce the virtues of battle before attacking with gusto. No such luck. The man just stood there.

"Oh well," Jake thought. "I guess it's up to me."

He had gone through the same motion thousands of times before. Position the bow, draw string to cheek, sight along the arrow, fire. It took him less than a second to loose the arrow, and he watched it drill through the air towards Dra at chestplate-penetrating pace. At that range Jake could have put the arrow in the man's eye, but he aimed for the centre of the body mass as he had been taught his whole life. He felt the familiar rush that came with firing at live targets. In his mind's eye he saw his target falling, the goose feather fletching sprouting from his heart.

Unless Dra changed his approach considerably, the battle wasn't going to last long.

[Dra]

Time passed by and the man still stood rather lackadaisical. While his opponent held his bow rather seriously and showed the possibility of skill enough to pluck an arrow from his quill and fire with amazing speed, the man still did nothing. All he did was stand, seemingly a dullard, with his Squiggle hovering over his left should as it always did. There was no threat to be seen or even one to be thinking about in the face of such action.

Even so, there was one there. Though he did nothing to show it, the Warrior known as Dra was working to summon up the flames he loved. They played on the edge of his consciousness, a metaphysical thing ready to be formed into something real. And while they were young, indeed only a few years borne into the recesses of his mind, they were hot and ready to seer flesh from bone. That, however, wasn't the only thing that he played at using.

Though the ebony mass bobbed equally inconspicuously, it too had its part to play. While it could not perform aggressively to any great degree—and indeed could only profess harsh prodding and wrapping as its offensive actions by default—it still managed as a great defender. Whether this was a result of its odd method of birth, its status as a familiar, or its preternatural connection to its master was unknown. What was known, however, was that in its master's moment of need or grief, it could move with astounding speed to save or comfort the lolling fool.

While such a method of defense was hardly ever called on before the Pagoda, for Dra indeed did not recognize it to any degree, it had since his inception become one of his favorite moves and was what he used the day he was due an arrow.

As soon as the Warrior recognized his opponent's moves, he performed his own. Diving to his left, he left his Squiggle to speed toward the missile and deflect it to where his right arm would have been should he have stayed. As he did so, he summoned flames from his mind and let them loose from his fingertips in a wave.

Though they normally would have impacted the archer directly, the fire wielder's low angle at the time of summoning them caused them to hit the closest set of furniture instead. This, disturbingly enough, possibly increased their effectiveness. Empowered by the spell's concussive force, a number of chairs, small tables, and even a misplaced ottoman were launched towards where the archer stood.

The man who had caused the commotion did not wait to see if they impacted. Instead, after landing rather haphazardly on the floor while short of breath, he bolted back up and ran north across the small eastern canal to the great pile of discarded metal bits that laid beyond. There, after directing his Squig to quickly pick up a small bowl and fill it with the oils, they both hid out of sight and waited for their opponent.

Dra thought about burning things. Squig about the same.

[Jake Narmolanya]

The arrow flew straight and true, but at the last second the... thing... squiqqled into its path and deflected the broadpoint. Jake lost his balance and staggered against an ornate oaken table, surprise painted on his tanned face. Whatever the... thing... was made of, it was tougher than it looked. And incredibly quick. Although his mind muddled, Jake's body continued to work its trade. Witout thinking or looking Jake drew another arrow from his quiver and laid it on the bow, sharp elven eyes picking his target.

Fire erupted from nowhere, a tidal wave of frothing heat that swept the furniture along with it. With a yell of shock Jake stepped backwards through a doorway that appeared from thin air, fingers frantically working the knob. As the boy vanished through the oaken door the fire consumed it, rampaging through the air where he had stood moments earlier.

"Dreadful dragons, that was a close call."

Jake peered down at the place where he had almost been burned alive. The boy impressed himself with the quick magic work. Ususally it took him a bit longer to create the door, even for a short hop. This time it had been as easy as falling out of bed.

"Maybe the sense of impending doom made me focus better."

The incinerated door's twin had deposited Jake on the edge of one of the fountain's many basins. He sank to one knee for extra balance and looked down on Dra. The mage-- for he was obviously a very powerful pyromancer-- attempted to hide amidst a pile of scrap metal with his faithful... thing... at his side.

"He must think I'm still down on the ground level somewhere. Well, lets see if that pet thing of his can deal with an armor piercing arrowhead."

Jake bent his bow once more, sighting along the titanium headed quarrel. Designed to punch through breastplates and chainmail, it should have no problem puncturing the... thing. At least he hoped so. Jake had made a wise move in taking the high ground, but it put him at an angle where he couldn't clearly see Dra's chest. Instead he aimed for the soft skin where shoulder became neck, and loosed the arrow with proffesional precision. He could practically see blood geysering all across the pile of discraded metal.

[Dra]

As they sat beyond the pile of discarded metal, the Warrior and his familiar waited for their opponent to reveal himself. After the initial explosion, during they heard a whelp, they had expected a reasonable bit more cursing. Sadly, as moment passed into moment, it did not come. This caused them to worry and become concerned. Not only did they not want their opponent dead so quickly, but they also didn't want to lose him because of their volume.

It was such worrying thoughts that caused the man known as Dra to look about the area. At first, he saw nothing, but on a larger turning of his head, he kept the vision of his opponent in his periphery. At that moment time seemed to freeze as his opponent came into focus. Already standing on the edge of a fountain basin, he held his bow and a very sharp-looking arrow the fire wielder's way. He then, much to the target's dismay, launched it with practiced ease.

Unable to dodge, or even think, he could only cringe as his familiar acted for him.

Still holding the steel bowl he had picked up from the pile, Squig moved to protect his master. Having already been hovering above the man's left shoulder he only had to move an inch or two to block. Because of what he held, however, even this was prone to error. Sidling into position, the bowl was hardly positioned best for a block. Rather than striking from the outside, which would have dulled the attack more, the arrow struck along the inside curve. Though the two similar metals managed to largely annul each other, the faster moving arrow still managed to take a small portion of the bowl as it went.

Once the block was through, the Warrior moved instantly to return fire. Waving his hand in much the same way he had before, he loosed a similar torrent of fire. Though this left him slightly winded, and indeed a bit like taking another nap, he felt that it would affect his opponent more harshly. Aimed at the fountain of oils upon which he stood, it would light the whole mess up with relative ease. While he wasn't sure about the exact nature of what it gushed, he did know that the vast majority of even medicinal oils caught in a spark, even if they didn't explode.

And it smells nice too!


((OOC: I looked up the titanium use in the Bazaar, but it just said it was resistant to fire and used in explosives. Therefore I went with the Wikipedia-obtained information that it was as strong as some steels and went with that. If it's different tell me and I'll edit the post to do something different. Also, I for some reason doubt the physics at work (because I don't think that the bowl would actually chip) but that doesn't really matter anyway.))

[Jake Narmolanya]

Althanas titanium is not the same as earth titanium. It's a tier 7 metal, much stronger than steel's tier two. Note also the part about the arrowhead being designed to punch through armor. And even if it was steel... try researching 'kinetic energy' on wikipedia.


As usual Jake's arrow flew true to its mark. His face crumbled in dismay when again Dra's pet thing blocked the quarrel. The boy experienced a moment of utter failure. Very seldom had he needed to shoot more than two arrows at an opponent. His keen eye and steady hand normally allowed him to finish fights from a distance.

"That pet thing of his is as good as a suit of mythril platemail."

A year earlier, Jake might have given up the battle then and there. But he had grown both mentally and physically in recent months. He remembered the sword lessons of Damon Kaosi. Even when Jake had managed to disarm the older half elf, Damon sprang away and drew another weapon.

"I need to prove I'm not a one dimensional fighter. He won't be expecting me to get close."

The tidal wave of fire that Dra summoned failed to phase Jake the second time around. Cool as a Salvarian tundra cactus he drew on the power of the eagle quill in his pocket. Another door sprang into existence and he ducked through it. The doorway winked into nothingness. Momentarily, Jake had disapeared.

Frigid wind blasted his face, pierced his lightweight clothing and tugged at the cap on his head. Jake threw one hand up to save his hat while the other shouldered his bow. The doorway had brought him to an icy, wind ravaged tundra in Salvar. He had visited the area once before when chasing the very demon whose dead body he absorbed the travelling magic from. The boy pulled his eagle quill from an inner pocket. The golden feather became an iron sword hilt from which a fiery blade grew.

"I'll teach Dra how to play with fire..."

Jake thought carefully for a moment, concentrated on the image of Dra's arena. A steel door appeared before him, placed at a perfect angle for what he intended. The boy's regained confidence painted a grim smile on his youthful face as he opened the door...

... and stepped back into the arena. He left the steel door wide open. The brutal Salvarian wind on the other side coursed past in a slipstream, sucking air through the portal. The noise reminded the half elf of blowing across the opening of an empty bottle, only amplified by a hundred. A few of the less well-pasted paintings on the wall tore free and flew through the magical opening. Jake paid them no mind. Quick feet carried him across the floor, fiery blade held at the ready. He aimed a straight thrust for Dra's midsection, feeling at home with the iron swordhilt gripped in both hands.

The boy's loose clothing fluttered in the slipstream. It gave him a comforting reminder that if Dra tried another tidal wave of fire, the flames would follow those horrid paintings into the fast moving oxygen-rich environment of the Salvarian tundra.

[Dra]

Oh, so it is. Sorry about that. Even if the steel did manage to survive in some part, the blow still would have caused the bowl to hit Dra with some force. I'll let the judges deal with that possibility though and instead will keep with current continuity.

Er, before you start reading, I may have made another false call on the strength of my metal, though this should have less of an effect on outright damage and more on the bowl's ability to last. Anyway, you'll see.

Much to the Warrior's dismay, his opponent had managed to dodge his attack yet again. This time, however, he had at least shown how it was done. Summoning up a small doorway, the man had used it like a portal to disappear to depart to some unknown destination. Even for his absence though, the flames that had pursued him still continued their assault. Rather than hitting the man, even indirectly, the fiery projectiles impacted the fountain in the middle of the room instead. The mix of igniter and ignitable that followed changed the climate of the room drastically.

The moment that the flames touched the fragrant oils that the fountain spewed, the latter were set ablaze. Unable to explode even in their great amounts, they were instead coated with a layer of fire that streamed even as they did. Within moments this fresh coating of combustion caused the innards of the chamber to drastically increase in temperature. It had also managed to cause a bit of smoke to start collecting along the ceiling.

As that happened though, Dra had other things to worry about. While he heard and felt what happened to his fountain, he didn't really care. Instead he was focused on the return on his opponent and the problems that would cause. It's thus that he began a series of defensive movements that would have made him seem even more a fool should anyone have been watching. Consisting of a number of steps in a ridiculously wide stance, the odd plantings were designed to allow him to quickly turn about and see all that was going on around him. As this happened, his Squiggle moved to hover just in front of his left palm; it still held the same steel bowl even though it had crater in its bottom from where the missile had hit it. Regardless, it would still function as a good make-shift shield in the future.

Even with that however, the fire wielder didn't concern himself. Instead he simply took a series of deep, calming breaths that were designed to both stave off his fatigue and take advantage of the little oxygen remaining in the chamber.

Shortly, however, even those concerns wouldn't amount to much.

While he faced the fountain during one of his movements, a great sucking sound and air movement came from behind him. Turning at the mere mention of something cold and certainly not of his element, he was greeted by a variety of things.

The first and foremost of the things that occurred to him was that his opponent was back and this time he was keeping his door ajar. The next thing to pop into his head dealt with the fact that the door-portal led to a windy tundra and that it was sucking in smoke, flame, and his paintings with little regard for personal space. The final thing for him to find out was the thing that would likely save him in the coming moments: his archer-opponent could also wield a sword and he would really have to deal with that flaming piece of metal before the day (or he) was done.

Sadly, disarming his opponent would prove a rather irksome endeavor. Even disregarding the fact that his grip was sure, any long-range attack on his part would be sucked into the void that his opponent's door constituted. With that in mind, he came up with an alternative method of taking care of his opponent's sword work. After all, if the man was blind there was little chance that he would be able to use that weapon well.

With that in mind, the ranking member of the Pagoda moved to counter his opponent's attack as soon as he rushed forward. Though he at first moved directly towards the blade with his hands palm-out before his stomach, he spun to the left of it within a foot of a lethal meeting. At that point, he brought his left hand and the bowl that hovered there around to the side of the blade. Pushing outward, he ignored the great ruts that were being driven into the bowl even as he brought his right hand up to the level of his opponent's face.

There, summoning a palm and five finger's full of naked flame, he prepared to drive the burning mass into the other man's eyes. Thanks to the flame's proximity to himself and the block provided by his opponent's figure, he didn't need to worry about the little fiery bits being blown away. All he had to do was hope that the bowl would keep his opponent's fiery blade away from his even as he cauterized the man's eye sockets.

[Jake Narmolanya]

As Dra countered Jake's attack, the half elf's confidence grew. He rarely expected to finish a fight with one thrust, and he could tell his opponent had little combat training. The simple bowl in the hands of an amateur would not hold up for long against an assault from a trained swordsman. The scouring sound from the slipstream rang in Jake's ears as he felt adrenaline enter his blood stream. This was what the boy had been waiting for; the rush of battle lust.

Jake's movements were as smooth and crisp as the frigid wind that whipped past his doorway. He followed the momentum of his initial thrust, seeing Dra conjure a handful of fire. Like five tiny torches the man thrust his fingers for the boy's face. Jake's doublequick reflexes helped him escape in time. He ducked beneath the blazing digits, moving past Dra in a slight crouch then pivoted hard. His sword traced a red arc in the air as he slashed laterally at his opponent's thigh.

Blood pounded in the boy's ears, a manical grin pasted on his face. He sought the thrill of the kill, his fiery blade aimed to sever the enemy's leg.

[Dra]

The hand consumed by fire never reached its intended target. In fact, even for its owners visions of seared shut eyelids and singed, hairless brows, it never even came that close. Dodging around the offending extremity, the pointy-eared opponent had left its flames to dissipate in the icy vortex he had conjured. Such a small setback didn't stop the Warrior from wishing to continue however. Even ignoring the fact that he didn't particularly care about his hit-miss ratio or his already lacking ability to kill his opponent in one blow, he still wanted to live.

Thus, pivoting much as his opponent did, he brought the failing cup down to meet his opponent's blade again. Though he managed to maneuver it in the right position, its repeated contact with the blade caused it to finally break. In its brief existence as a blocking aid, however, it did manage to diffuse a reasonable portion of the strength of the attack. Cutting through what little Squiggle there was to hold up the cup, the blade struck an inch deep into the acrobat's flesh, eliciting a rather girlish whimper.

Such a movement into the effeminate didn't mean that there wasn't a counterattack though. As the blade moved through it, the ink-based familiar that held the cup had drawn from the flaming blade. Set ablaze by the close exchange, it had moved the moment it was able to rocket towards the man who was assaulting its master. Reforming as it went, the Squig aimed its fiery mass towards the archer-turned-swordsman's midsection, ready to follow the man's movements if it needed to.

Meanwhile, as he attempted to deal with the pain of having his blood drawn and boiled as his nerves were severed and set ablaze, Dra moved to continue his own personal assault. Throwing his left and right hands forward (the former of which had been moved away from the blade just in time), the fire wielder set to work lending credence to his makeshift title.

Pouring most of what vigor remained to him into his attack, he loosed two crossing arcs of flame towards his opponent's midsection. Each some three feet in width, it would take some great miracle for his opponent to dodge both them and the Squiggle at such a short distance. Equally though, it would take their conjurer the same to stay conscious after such a great exertion. Already great bubbling colors appeared in his periphery, ready to swoop in and take the rest from him.

It wasn't looking good.

[Jake Narmolanya]

The still flame's of Jake's fire sword seared Dra's flesh, eliciting a rise of elation from the young swordsman. He had finally broken through the bowl that had protected the pyromancer. His sifan cloth clothes flashing, Jake straightened up, sword swinging in an arc over his head, ready for a killing stroke. The roar of the wind filled his ears, along with the pounding of adrenaline-rich blood.

"Ooof!"

Something struck him hard in the chest, knocking him backwards. The nimble half elf stumbled a few steps as his oppoent's weird pet streaked away from him. Jake felt a wave of heat wash over him, acrid smoke rising in tendrils to his nose.

"Fire!" the boy cried out loud, an instantaneous reaction to realizing that the front of his shirt was ablaze. Holding his precious sword off to one side he beat at the hungry flames with his free hand. The fabric burned quickly, and although he scorched his hand a few times he soon extinguished his garments. The squiggle had left him looking like a shipwrecked pirate rather than a well dressed young gentleman.

Panic had filled him when the flames first struck, but as the danger passed anger took over. He had liked the shirt and jacket he wore that day, and Dra had ruined both.

"Him and his stupid pet... if I had known we were allowed to bring a sidekick, I'd have brought Gunner with me!"

Exactly how his horse would have helped in combat didn't enter into the boy's raging mind. At that moment he became distracted by the lack of noise in the room. When his shirt had caught fire his focus fell, and as a result the door to the tundra disapeared. Jake watched in horror as Dra wove another lethal fire attack. His mind raced, coming to the obvious conclusion rather quickly.

"Water... I need water!"

He concentrated on the mental image of a beach in Scara Brae, imagined the deep waters just off the coast.

"I need to put the door deep down in the ocean... otherwise there won't be enough water."

As two crescents of flame spun towards him, a metal door appeared in front of Jake. Quick as a bunny, he reached around and twisted the knob.

Splooosh!

It looked like a door-sized crack had suddenly appeared in a dam. Water didn't just cascade from the portal, it shot out like a liquid canonball. A sizzling like frying bacon filled the air as the salt water extinguished Dra's flames. The veritable tidal wave coursed towards the pagoda warrior, with enough force to sweep him off his feet or slam him to the floor.

Jake allowed the doorway to stay there, water still spilling into the arena as if through a giant faucet. The boy's fire sword became a quill once more, and he unshouldered his bow. Knocking an arrow by touch alone, he peered into the spewing water, looking for his opponent. If Dra hadn't been drowned, Jake wanted to be ready to put a feather in his chest.

[Dra]

The familiar flew from the Warrior's side, burst into flame at his behest, and rammed itself into his opponent's chest harshly. This assault caused the archer-swordsman to stumble back rather distressed and begin beating the flames from his breast. Though he undoubtedly scorched his hand while doing so, and in addition further harmed some nice clothing, Dra still felt that something missed from the attack.

Regardless of his ability to concentrate on the matter, for he was indeed working on his own attack, he felt that his fiery familiar should have continued the assault and not flown away. Thanks to its inky nature and heart-warming, if not a bit peculiar, tie to the man himself it should potentially be able to stay alight no matter what physical damage was perpetrated on it. Its thus that, as he grimaced from the pain in his thigh and watched his dual waves fly, Dra whimmed the Squiggle back to his opponent. Curling about behind the man, it would aim itself for a fierce strike at the man's kidneys.

Meanwhile, the familiar's owner and heterosexual life-mate would attempt to deal with what his far-less-battered opponent threw at him. Though his eyes still swam with the imperfections wrought from fatigue, he would soon find that in the face of death, and very large torrents of water, being a bit blind around the edges could be dealt with quite, for lack of a better word, easily.

Turning back his attention back to his opponent and his larger projectile, the Warrior barred himself for his opponent's possible counterattack. Like the ones before it, the archer's new one dealt with doors. This time, however, the gateway was a steel one and what it held was far more annoying than the last. Opening it from behind, his opponent unleashed a torrent of salt-water that negated the fire wielder's attack and sent him rushing, slightly more battered, blind, and winded than before, down the east-side of the arena.

Traveling a good many feet per minute on water alone, he used the width and breadth of his wits to find a way to take advantage of the chaos. Swimming amidst alternating grunts and whines on two arms and a right leg alone, he swam against the torrent to curl around one of the large piles of steel in the area. Already bombarded by the water, the mass of discarded show pieces held steady against the crashing waves. In addition to protecting him the water it would provide good eye-cover against the archer.

Sidling up to it, Dra made to keep himself stationary by curling his left arm around some of the heavy steel pieces beneath the tide. Then, once relatively safe, he—in light of anything better to do—started a stream of thought designed to curse his current predicament.

Sighing, which was a sign of relief easily covered by the rushing waves, he went through his list of troubles. The foremost on his mind was that he was tired as hell and he couldn't see much more than was about a foot or two in front of him. Besides that he felt quite inadequate since he was essentially depending on his familiar to fight his battle for him. Even with that slight insult to what would pass for his pride though, he still suffered from more current ailments; the cold salt water was really starting to sting his hardly healed, though decoratively cauterized, thigh wound. Finally though, he noted with a wave of his free hand, the monks would have a really hard time trying to clean up this water, especially after all the oils started settling on top. Their love of braziers and such would really hamper them in that regard. Ow.

[Jake Narmolanya]

The veritable river of seawater washed Dra out of sight, and Jake stood on his tiptoes, peering at the pile of scrap metal that seemed to have absorbed the Pagoda Warrior. Bowstring half drawn, his keen young eyes peeled, Jake was ready for almost anything, except the creature that struck his side.

"Oof!" Air whistled between the boy's lips as his diaphragm locked up. His hand released instinctively and the arrow fell awkardly to the drenched floor. When the next blow landed, the archer dropped his bow as well falling to his knees.

The ink-being circled and darted, attacking the hapless half-elf like a flock of carrion. Jake swatted at his tormentor with both hands, but nothing could stop the invulnerable flying thing. The boy stumbled to his feet and found it still pursued him.

"What is this thing?" Jake wondered to himself as he ducked and dodged, trying and failing to evade the indomitable attack. "It blocked my arrow and now I can't even--"

"Whoa!" A cry tore from Jake's lips as one of his wild leaps away from the squiggle caused him to slip on the salty, wet floor. His arms flailed like twin windmills for a moment, and then with a sickening crunch he landed, impaled on a shard of iron left over from the wreckage of Dra's original firebomb.

Unbidden tears ran from Jake's eyes as blood ran from his body, spreading thinly through the seawater that lined the floor. Even as he wept in pain, the boy could not look down upon his performance. He had fought to his fullest, and yet fallen. His last thought echoed in his mind amidst the waterfall sounds of the surrounding oil basins.

"They should make his pet the warrior... it fights better than he does."


This is my concluding post.

[Dra]

The Squiggle moved, as would be expected from a thing of its nature, like a thing possessed. Darting through the air, it struck hard and fast at whichever of its opponent's organs it could get a shot in at. Though the man tried to beat him off with his arms it did no good. While the ink-entity could be stopped for a moment by the flying fists, it would soon reassert itself thanks to the full concentration of its master and continue the assault.

Even with such speedy recoveries however, the Squig's attacks were not what eventually caused the elven archer's death; a combination of haphazard movements and his own environmental variable took care of that. Slipping on the wet floor, the quill wielding challenger found himself pierced on an outcropping of iron. He died a quiet death.

As such it took the Warrior some time to found out exactly what happened. After taking a couple minutes to catch his breath and make sure that he wouldn't pass out the moment he tried to get up, he rose to his feet. Making his way around the heap of unused metal, he soon found his opponent's corpse.

Looking over the man's body and then his own he finally turned to the Squiggle that bobbed next to him and said, "How about you be the Warrior?"

The Squiggle shook its best 'no'.

Turning back to the dead man, the fire wielder noticeably slumped and sighed, "Yeah, I thought not."

Same.

[Raelyse]

Dra requested little detail so that's what I'm going to give. But there are some thing that were GLARING at me that I definitely needed to point out. Overall, I found this thread to be a disappointment, considering the potential. The arena was interesting and the fight started off well, but it quickly grew to ridiculous proportions when the Squiggle started blocking everything and Dra started throwing fire balls like spit balls. I'm sure you two can improve though, if you put a little bit more effort into your writing.

Dra

Story

Continuity – 5
Setting – 6 – I liked your setting, it was interesting and undone before but I didn't feel that you did enough to justify a higher score.
Pacing – 4 – To be honest, I got quite bored reading your posts. They never kept me excited, because you didn't do anything terribly interesting except use your squiggle and throw flames.

Character

Dialogue – 5
Action – 6
Persona – 6 – I liked how you played him as a novice fighter when Jake came out of the door to change the fight from range to melee. There is always the temptation to overplay your character's abilities but you didn't – in fighting regard at least.

Writing Style

Technique – 3 – I originally gave you 5 here but decided to dock 2 points because of your powergaming. Your familiar was way too overpowerered and it flew around dodging everything for you. I read your profile and you say that it cannot move once hit unless Dra concentrates on it, but there is nothing about it having the speed to block arrows. Also, your flames should have a limit, Dra SHOULD have gotten tired but that didn't catch up until the end. The bowl thing is also ridiculous for obvious reasons.
Mechanics – 5
Clarity – 3 - Your writing style is repetitive, awkward and draggy. This is not in any way putting you down, I am just trying to be honest so you can correct your mistakes through practice and revision. Sometimes you would talk about the same thing for too long which was just boring and annoying for me as the reader. You'll find that a simple read through once you have finished your post will do wonders and eliminate stuff that sounds funny, and there was a lot in this thread.

Wild Card – 6 – There is potential but there is room for improvement. Stay with Althanas, take my comments to heart and people will sit up and notice.

Total Score – 49

Jake

Story

Continuity – 6 – In one word, bland.
Setting – 6 – Didn't really use it or acknowledge it until the end, but you did expand on Dra's initial explanation which is why you got this score here.
Pacing – 5

Character

Dialogue – 5 – Very cliché thoughts in the head. Say something interesting, even if it's just for Jake to hear! Have inner monologues!
Action – 6 – I thought your death was stupid, to be honest. An elf who had not been anything but graceful in the battle suddenly tripped and impaled himself.
Persona – 7 – I gave you an extra point, which I feel is a bit generous, for your thoughts about Damon Kaosi which I found a pleasant distraction while I was reading. More of this sort of thing, please.

Writing Style

Technique – 5
Mechanics – 3 – You seriously need spell check. I spotted 8 errors that were immediately obvious and this brought down your score a lot. To highlight the problem, I don't think squiqqled is a word. It looks okay, doesn't it? They're not g's, they're q's.
Clarity – 6 – Testament to your style that despite your errors, I still got to know what was going on. The door thing needs a few extra words here and there to properly describe as it is a bit confusing.

Wild Card – 4 – You visibly lost interest. As someone who's done that before, I understand the frustration but once you make the commitment to start a thread, please finish it with effort.

Total Score - 53

Jake wins 53 to Dra's 49

Jake gains 1000 EXP and 500 GP
Dra gains 333 EXP and 125 GP

[Cyrus the virus]

EXP added!