Teric vs Godhand: Champions

[Bloodrose]

A note: Consider all bunnying in this thread to have been discussed and approved by either Godhand or myself.

Pennants, banners, and even a crew of Akashiman pyromancers with their rockets and fireworks; the Pagoda's shadowy masters had certainly spared no expense in celebrating and welcoming their new Grandmaster. His ascension heralded a changing of the guard amongst the Hierarchs, a fresh start the likes of which the old and stale regime had not seen in a good while. A special arena had even been built to his exact specifications - a palisade ring of oaken pillars around a dirt ring outside the Pagoda's fabled halls. This was no magic arena, no enchanted wonderland, but a simple fighting pit where the new Grandmaster would test the mettle of his challengers in simple, unadulterated combat...

Teric Bloodrose, recently crowned Grandmaster of the Dajas Pagoda, was pacing eagerly in the bowels of his arena beneath the watchful gazes of the assembled crowd. Culled from the local populace of Scara Brae, the spectators were perched on grandstand seating that rose up over the tops of the palisade walls. There they ooed and awed as the pyromancers lit rockets and set them blazing into the twilight sky, tinting the evening air with splotches of reds and yellows and blue. The fireworks and the eager crowd, however, were only distractions on the edges of Teric's vision as he paced. His gaze was firmly fixed on the open gate in the fighting pit's North end, his eyes eagerly watching for the first sign of Godhand Striker...

He won't leave me wishing for a fight. The veteran smiled in anticipation, the fingers on his right hand clenching and unclenching around the hilt of his sword. The gleaming weapon was already drawn and ready, it's clean, white blade flashing in arcs at Teric's side as he absently twirled and played with the weapon expectantly. If the man is anywhere near as powerful as his reputation would lead to believe, then I'll finally have the fight I've been looking for...

The Grandmaster was dressed lightly, forgoing his heavy coat for the sake of speed and mobility. His mythril armor he wore beneath his shirt and vest to give the appearance of fighting unarmored, but the cold metal links against his scarred chest comforted Teric with their presence. It was a chill that quelled some of the hot, angry hunger burning in the veteran's gut as he kept pacing, kicking up dust from beneath his iron-shod boots. It was the same gnawing hunger that had driven Teric to the doors of the previous Grandmaster, and the same hunger that always drove the man to fight. It was a hunger satiated only by battle, and a hunger common amongst men who spend their lives waging war and doing little else...

That emptiness inside Teric's belly would not be satiated by a simply victory. The meal had to be a true test of his recently regained prowess if it was to sate the need the veteran had to fight...

[Godhand]

Godhand jogged in place behind the arena's entrance, a big grin plastered on his face. He was excited; real excited. It'd been something like twenty years since the last time he'd fought in front of a crowd. Back then, he'd been number one contender for the light heavyweight championship of the world. This time, he was number one contender for the Grandmaster spot in the Dajas Pagoda. The more things change, they more they stay the same. But he wasn't content to just take Teric's spot. Once he did, he was going all the way; he was going for the championship. He'd be the first champion in Pagoda history. But wait, wait. Hold on. Be patient. A lot of guys went down early because they were too busy planning ahead of their opponents. Godhand wouldn't make the same mistake. The mercenary drew in a breath, beat his fists together and walked out.

Showtime.

The arena exploded with light and color as the number one contender appeared in the archway. He walked out calmly, rubbing his hands together. When he finally made it out of the archway, he raised his fist in the air with a roar. The pyromancers fired off a volley together, as if on cue. It was on cue, actually. He'd slipped 'em a couple of bucks beforehand so they'd play along. Why? Because at heart, Godhand was a showman. There was nothing he liked more than seeing the crowd come alive. And they did; he smiled big when some of the younger girls started hollering at him. It was good to be back.

Soon enough, the fanfare died down and Godhand had the presence of mind to size up his opponent. Teric Bloodrose. He was a good guy; tough guy. A little old, but then again, who isn't? Truth was, the mercenary had a bit of a soft spot for the old guy. Teric had helped him out back in his siege on Dirks' Manor. I mean it wasn't free, obviously, but the man had done his job well and Godhand appreciated that. He'd have much rather bumped off the previous Grandmaster; some girly man that'd forfeited the title to Bloodrose. He knew what that was like; his last two opponents hadn't even bothered to show up. Still, he had to become Grandmaster before he could become champion. That meant the old mercenary was out of luck. On the other hand, there was no reason not to give these people a show, right?

Godhand spread out his arms to show he was unarmed. Teric gave his younger opponent a minute grin before putting away his blade. They circled each other for a moment, each measuring their opponent, before rushing forward and locking up. Godhand kept a relaxed grip around the swordsman's neck, but made sure it looked good from the outside. He leaned forward.

"Alright, I want you to knee me in the stomach and shoot me into the wall. I'll come back and hit you with a clothesline. Let's do this."

The knee came up a bit too hard, but it wasn't even close to strong enough to put Godhand away. Melee was his bread and butter. Still, he sold it like it knocked the air out of his lungs. Afterwards the elder mercenary grabbed Godhand's arm and whipped him into the palisade. He turned before hitting it so that his back would take the impact, then used the momentum to rush at Bloodrose. Before he could even attempt the clothesline, however, Teric drew his blade and swiped at him. The gunman muttered a curse and jumped back at the last moment, narrowly avoiding getting slashed. He backed away from the mercenary and placed a hand on his stomach, finding that the old man had actually managed to draw a little bit of blood. Godhand grinned and waved his finger at Bloodrose in mock accusation, but a trained observer would have been able to tell that he'd hardened his stance. His heel rose from the ground almost imperceptibly, coiled and ready to fire Godhand off in nearly any direction.

[Bloodrose]

Disappointing...

It seemed the Godhand Striker on a proper battlefield and the Godhand Striker in a one-on-one bout were two almost polar opposite people. Standing by the gunman's side during the Imperial conflict, Teric had come to know the mercenary as a commanding, dominating figure. Godhand had been all business and no fluff, a quality that the older veteran found very appealing in both his comrades and his enemies. This Pagoda Godhand though, this showman, seemed far more interested in entertaining the crowd than entertaining the Grandmaster...

Teric returned the finger-wagging in an equally mock fashion, noting the drastic change in Godhand's stance. To some people, 'drastic' might have seemed too harsh a word; the challenging Master had barely shifted at all. A trained eye, however, or maybe anyone who'd seen Godhand fight before, could tell that the relaxed form the man had taken upon entering the ring was gone. Every muscle in the man seemed to coil now like a waiting spring - waiting for the precise moment to unleash that pent up power.

"I'm not here for a showy, staged display." Teric warned the mercenary, redundantly. A man like Striker would have already interpreted that bit from the sword slash across his belly. It might have been a cheap shot, sure, but Teric counted the trace of blood on his weapon as a payment of sorts. It got the message across loud and clear that way: Games will cost you a price paid in flesh.

The older man started circling around the younger, although Teric was distinctly aware of the fact that Godhand was much older than any of the opponents he'd been facing recently. It felt... right to be facing someone a little more his own age, someone who could possibly understand what a mercenary felt as they grew older. I wonder if he has that same hunger? The veteran pondered, eyes fixed on his ready opponent. I wonder if he has that same emptiness inside him, yearning to be consumed by something... Anything. Even something as fleeting as a decent fight...

"I'm here for a fight," Teric stated firmly, "and I don't expect you to leave me wanting."

The crowd started to jeer and boo, demanding more action from the two fighters who seemed to just be standing there, sizing each other up while they talked. Let them boo. Teric thought off-handedly, almost as if it was an afterthought. I'm not here for them.

The crowd demanded action, but Teric was more than satisfied to wait on the balls of his feet for Striker to come to him. Walking into a patiently waiting Godhand was akin to walking into a bear trap; an excellent way to get yourself hurt. No, the veteran wanted just enough showman left in Striker to let the crowd provoke him into acting first, but not enough showman to discourage the man from fighting like the beast he was...

Come on you bastard! Teric willed, readying himself defensively. Hurt me!

[Godhand]

Godhand whipped his head around, surveying the crowd that had just recently turned on the two warriors. All those boos made him nervous; brought back bad memories. Already he could feel his heel start to twitch, begging him to charge the Grandmaster and regain the crowd's adoration. But he reined it in, steadying himself. When you were fighting a man like Teric you could either please the crowd or win the fight, and the mercenary had his eyes set on the championship.

He hesitated for a moment, then raised his fist to see how many of the fans were still with him. There were some applause, but not nearly enough as when he'd walked in. He had to win 'em over again. He slowly lowered his arm and ran a hand through his hair, hoping to lull Teric into thinking he still wasn't taking him seriously. Just as he reached the back of his head, however, he positively exploded out of his position and charged Bloodrose, firing off a vicious stream of punches. The elder swordsman still had a bit of a spring in his step, though, and quickly hopped backwards, stepping this way and that to avoid Godhand's punishing blows. At the last moment, however, Godhand leaned forward and aimed a right hook at the Grandmaster's abdomen. He dodged it like the rest, but this time the mercenary thought he might have caught him with a bit of it.

If it had been anybody else, a hit that minor probably wouldn't have even phased Teric. However, a glancing blow from the likes of Godhand was still far more powerful than the most perfectly aimed punch from an ordinary man. The air rushed out of Bloodrose's lungs and he stumbled backwards, clutching his stomach. He shot Godhand a questioning glare that, for a moment, made him feel bad for taking it all so seriously. Then he felt the sting in his own abdomen from the mercenary's earlier attack, and he steeled his resolve.

"Harvey!"

The gunman raised a hand into the air, and the plant he'd set in the crowd earlier sprang up. It was one of Godhand's army buddies from back in the day, and he quickly tossed the mercenary his prized Muramasa. Godhand spun backwards and caught the weapon, unsheathing it all in one smooth movement. He leveled the tip at Bloodrose and gave him the same invitation he'd given him earlier.

To make a move.

[Bloodrose]

Teric knew he was quick, but it seemed that Godhand was just a half-step quicker. The veteran's nimble feet and toned body ducked and bobbed and weaved as the younger mercenary moved forward with a flurry of blows that could have undoubtedly killed a slower man. Each fist rocketing past his body, every one a hair's breadth closer than the last, made the air around Teric shift with the force of its passing. One, two, three, four punches and still Godhand moved forward with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to utilizing his body as a weapon.

How easy it would be, Teric contemplated meaningfully, to lop off one of his arms as he punched...

The old wolf's white blade stayed close to his side, ducking and weaving from the punches like an extension of the warrior's body. As easy as it would have been, the whole point of this fight was not to get away with a quick victory. The Grandmaster wanted a fight, and that Godhand brought his fists to a swordfight was making that difficult.

"Oomph!" One glancing blow from the final assault in Godhand's barrage made it more than obvious why he was called 'Striker'. The chainmail beneath Teric's shirt, unlike the solid shielding of platemail, offered little protection against the blunt force of the Challenger's fist. Even if it was only the tops of his knuckles impacting with Teric's retreating abdomen, Godhand's blows were delivered with enough bone-crushing force to still knock the air from Teric's lungs.

And that is how he stood toe-to-toe with Letho Ravenheart. It was a forced reminder of the titanic slug-fest the two semi-legends had unleashed upon one another in the recent clan war. The look Teric shot Godhand then, as he involuntarily clutched his gut with his free hand and sucked air into his burning lungs, was a look that said Now I know firsthand what you can do.

Godhand's unexpected shout and the planted ally in the crowd were an unusual surprise, but Teric wasn't about to complain about the outcome. As he regained his breath, the Striker was armed with a sword, making it a fair contest between the two of them. That was, after all, what the grizzled veteran wanted most from this conflict, so he wasn't about the berate his opponent for hiding his aid...

"Now we're talking." Teric even smiled as he stood up straight, raising the tip of his blade to gesture menacingly in Godhand's direction. More words were unnecessary, and the dirt flew from beneath Teric's boots as he launched himself forward, slashing his weapon in his opponent's direction as he did so. A pair of air-blades, crossed in the shape of an 'X', blasted forward from the veteran's arcing sword to cut Godhand into pieces even as Teric followed right up behind them.

[Godhand]

Teric wasn't dissuaded by Godhand's assault, and instead seemed to grow more excited with each tense moment. He grinned a big old man grin at the gunman and dashed forward, quickly swinging his sword to fire two razor sharp waves of wind at him. Godhand placed a hand behind the dull side side of his blade to steady it before bringing up the Muramasa to block Bloodrose's projectile attack. His silver hair blew back as the compressed wind met the Adamantine of his blade and then, thankfully, dissipated. He didn't have time to relax though; Bloodrose was right behind them. The mobster had been so preoccupied with the blades of wind that he forgot about the other blade Teric wielded, and the elderly man quickly bypassed his haphazard block to gash the mercenary's right arm.

That was it; no more stupid games. Enraged, he pushed Teric back and headbutted him just under the chin. The mercenary flew back and rolled to a halt just a couple of feet in front of him. Godhand wasn't done. He ran up Bloodrose's prone form and raised his leg to deliver a high-powered heel axe kick and the battle right then and there, but before he could Teric rolled out of the way and swung his sword back. The blade flew at the lower part of his hamstring, and if it hadn't been for the high quality that Godhand demanded of all his battle-wear it would have sliced right through the boot and crippled him. Thankfully, the leather dampened most of the hit and his calf remained largely intact. Still, the attack still managed to more or less take his leg out from under him, and Godhand toppled backwards unto the arena's dirt floor. The crowd went wild.

Bastards.

Godhand quickly rolled away from Teric, hugging his Muramasa close to his chest. Still, the elderly mercenary chased him. He swung his sword into the dirt again and again, with the mobster just barely managing to roll out of the way of each slice. Before long they ran out of arena and he ended up rolling himself right into the wooden palisade. The mercenary was right behind him and just as he drew himself up for the final slash, Godhand desperately rolled back over to him, driving his elbow into the dirt and using the impact to get himself up on one knee. He followed through with his momentum and fired a right hand at Bloodrose's stomach.

[Bloodrose]

Everything was going so well. Godhand was on the ground, his focus busy avoiding each downward cut of Teric's sword. The younger mercenary was quickly running out of ground to roll to, coming up against the palisade wall that would force him for better or for worse to stop and fight. There was a certain thrill to it, chasing down the infamous Striker. He could flee to anywhere he wanted, and Teric would be right on his heels, pressing the issue at hand...

The Striker's hand, his right to be precise, snapped forward like a lunging cobra, except far quicker than any snake could ever hope to move. Teric didn't even have time to think about countering, he just reacted. In less time than it takes to blink an eye, Teric was gone, and a sizeable distance had opened up between the two men. Beneath Godhand's outstretched arm, where Teric had been standing, were two furrows in the dirt - like someone had pushed off from that spot with tremendous force. More dirt, the simple floor material of the Grandmaster's arena, drifted in clouds around where Teric stood now, almost ten feet away, and two more furrows ended where the veteran had skidded to a halt.

"Close." Teric smiled, even as he found himself thinking, Thank the Goddess for that trick! The memory of what even a glancing blow from Godhand Striker could do was still fresh in the Grandmaster's mind, and he didn't doubt for a second that a straight shot to the gut would have ruptured every internal organ he could name. It's a dangerous game you're playing, the veteran had to remind himself, putting yourself close enough for him to hit you.

"Are you enjoying this as much as I am?" Teric straightened himself up, having had to crouch a bit to avoid toppling himself over with the momentum of his own escape. Both warriors were covered in dirt, each having spent some time in the last few minutes rolling around on the arena floor. The pace they had set thus far was blistering, driving the battle forward to the furious tempo of their respective blows. Both men had landed shots of their own at this point, but neither seemed phased or exhausted. Locked in this arena were two warriors at their peak, and for all anyone else knew, this battle could have been just getting started.

The older mercenary didn't allow any time for an answer to his own question - he just charged. Better to resume the fight then let the thrill and the rush of the moment fade. There was a devious glint in Teric's eyes, before he clenched them shut, as he took his first step forward and his free hand extended towards Godhand.

Boom! The crack of Teric's Flashbang technique was like a roll of thunder centered directed over the arena. White, glaring light flashed like lightning and the entire crowd - fixated on the combatants - screamed in surprise and confusions as they were suddenly blinded. Straight through the flash, Teric barreled forward, opening his eyes as soon as the brightness flaring in front of his eyelids passed. His sword circled his body in a vicious arc, swinging around horizontally from left to right to cleave Godhand just above the hip...

[Godhand]

Godhand swung his arms out to his sides and then drew them back close to his body, entering the Long Fist stance. The Muramasa lay forgotten on the ground, the gunman having dropped it while fleeing Bloodrose. His fingers drew back into a tight fist as he watched the elderly mercenary, furiously attempting to discern his next move. His keen eyes caught the barest shift in Teric's stance, and he immediately drew back and dug his toes into the ground, preparing to meet his charge head on. Just as the gunman was about to move, however, the Grandmaster opened his hand and cast a dazzling light over the arena. Forgetting all his training, Godhand threw his hands up to cover his eyes. Almost immediately afterwards he felt the blinding agony of Teric's blade in his stomach. The old man was tough alright; he'd slashed almost halfway through Godhand's abdomen, the rapier coming to a rest just before reaching his belly button.

Right away the stink was unbearable. Digestive acid poured out of Godhand's stomach lining, mixing with his blood to make a noxious stench. Between that and the pain, the gunman nearly passed out. But he didn't; he remembered what was at stake. A shot at the championship; a chance to get back on top. His hand shot out to grab Bloodrose's sword arm, shattering the bone with a vicious squeeze. Then he pulled on the limp appendage, sending the Grandmaster tumbling forward and straight into a headbutt from Godhand. His nose nearly burst apart upon impact, blood flowing down his face. Teric stumbled backwards, clutching his nose with his good hand, his blade forgotten in the mercenary's stomach. Godhand took the opportunity, lunging forward and trying to nail him in the back of his head. He barely managed to clip him behind the ear, though; his eyes were starting to water pretty bad from the smell.

The Grandmaster tumbled to the ground all the same, but Godhand couldn't follow up. The sudden movement had sent his stomach contents spilling out of his wound and it took all of his faculties just to keep from vomiting. All the same, what was left to purge?

Godhand fell to one knee, but he quickly managed to work himself up into a crouch. Gathering all of his strength, he furiously gestured at Bloodrose to stand up with the hand that wasn't vainly trying to keep his guts from spilling out.

"Get up, you son of a bitch! GET UP!"

[Bloodrose]

I can't believe that actually worked! Was the first thought to cross Teric's mind as he came charging through the light to find Godhand undefended with his hands up to protect his eyes. "Surprised" is perhaps too common a word to describe how the Grandmaster felt in that moment, as his blade bit deep into the infamous Striker's side. In a strange kind of way, Teric had utilized the Flashbang almost knowing that it would fail. He'd used the same trick over and over again in countless battles, and more often than not it failed to deliver the kind of distracting, disorienting effect that it just had. It was surprising, and even a little confusing, that easily the most dangerous opponent Teric had ever fought had been crippled by such a trick...

Teric's surprise, and perhaps his expectations, cost him a price paid in pain, just as Godhand's showmanship cost him flesh. Most men, when cleaved nearly in half, fell right where they stood without a word. The Grandmaster had seen it before on the battlefield - the hacked remains of what used to be a living, breathing soul collapsing without complaint to the unforgiving earth. It bears a reminder, however, that Godhand was not most men; he was anything but.

The Striker's hand wrapped around Teric's sword arm with the strength of a mythical titan, snapping even the Grandmaster's Damascus-strong bones with the fury in that grip. Not content to die without a fight, Godhand lunged forward in a head butt before Teric could even worry about the pain shooting up his arm. The Grandmaster's nose, broken countless times before in other fights, was broken again - smashed beneath Godhand's rock-hard forehead. Stars exploded in the Grandmaster's eyes as a river of blood gushed down his face. Teric staggered back, struggling to fend off the darkness of unconsciousness crowding around the edges of his vision, focusing vainly to subdue the terrible pain banging around inside his skull.

Teric didn't even feel Godhand's parting shot to the back of his head as he spun and tumbled away. He just felt the push of the blow, just enough to send him careening off balance and stumbling to the arena floor. The crowd was screaming, a couple hundred delighted spectators venting their glee in unison as Teric tried to hold himself up on his knees and elbows. The sound was muffled, like someone had packed cotton into the veteran's ears, and all he could see was the dirt floor and the rapid splatter of falling blood droplets from his broken face. It took everything the Grandmaster had just to stay on all fours...

He's shouting at me. Teric almost instinctively knew, even if he couldn't make out Godhand's muffled cries against the murky noise of the crowd. The darkness threatening to take him was passing, fading as the pain itself faded from sharp agony to dull throbbing pain. The momentary disorientation that would have been his downfall, had Godhand been able to finish, started to pass as Teric pushed himself back to his feet - taking care not to use his right arm. His knees were wobbly, like congealing jelly beneath his weight, but the Grandmaster was standing at least.

You have to finish this A voice inside Teric's head was urging. The old mercenary took a few careful steps to his right, circling around Godhand to get close to the palisade wall of the arena. This is what you wanted, a fight! Don't give up now! You've almost won! The veteran was his own cheering section, bolstering his flagging courage as he steadied himself against the wooden logs encircling the two combatants.

"Give up." Teric said through a mess of blood that had flowed down around his mouth. "Not even you can keep fighting for long with a wound like that."

[Godhand]

It was starting to get blurry, and it wasn't just the tears that were caused by the stench. Godhand was starting to get tunnel vision; he knew he wouldn't last much longer. Already he could feel his lifeblood literally slipping through his fingers. He nearly panicked when his vision started to fade, but he just ran a hand through his hair and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself conscious. Sweat was running down his face and he couldn't take big breaths because it'd aggravate his injury, but he was still in this. All he needed to do was get in one big hit and the battle would be over. Just one hit. He slapped himself lightly on the cheek as Teric got to his feet to keep himself focused.

The grandmaster stumbled over to the palisade, taking big breaths with each step. Godhand rubbed his eyes when some of the sweat got in, shaking his head to will away the darkness looming at the edge of his mind. He could already feel himself slipping away; he'd only be good for about another twenty seconds.

"C'mon, c'mon!"

When the elderly mercenary collapsed against the palisade, Godhand took it as a cue. He blasted out of his position with nothing short of explosive power. The mercenary imagined diesel smoke pouring out of his nostrils as he hurtled towards Bloodrose, both arms held close to his chest to keep the few fluids that remained in his stomach, well, in his stomach. He grit his teeth as he approached what would probably be considered ground zero after Godhand was done. Teric was prone; the mobster was going to spear him right through the Goddamn palisade. The crowd could feel it, too; they'd started to roar as soon as he got in motion. Here it was, the big finish. The mercenary summoned the last of his strength and leapt from the ground and at the grandmaster with the speed of an angry rhinoceros and twice the power.

Gore! Gore! Gore!

Just as Godhand was about to tackle Bloodrose through the wall of stakes, though, the elderly fighter spun away. The gunman's eyes widened and he futilely brought up his arms to protect himself as he dove through the palisade wall, the wooden partition practically exploding upon contact.

Then everything went black.

[Bloodrose]

Had he not just watched his dying opponent run through the wall, Teric would have honestly believed that it was the shot from an Aleran cannon blasting through the wooden palisade. Splinters, chunks, and whole timbers exploded out from the impact site as if propelled by gunpowder, the grandstands above the wall shifting unsteadily as their main support structure fell away. The crowd, roaring its approval, turned to screaming in fear in some places as the seats beneath them buckled.

Teric sat down heavily in the dirt of his arena, legs splayed out in front of him as his good arm moved back to support him sitting upright. Blood was still ebbing from his broken nose, dripping down over his mouth and chin in sticky rivulets. The warrior's broken arm rested painfully in his lap, his fingers every once in a while twitching uncontrollably.

I won. The veteran thought dully, the magnitude of what just happened not really sinking in; It had all taken place so quickly. One brutal attack after another, dodge, parry, repeat... And then all it took was one flash of light to set the battle on its final and terrible course. Were it not for the fact that every second of their fight had been a balancing act between living and dying, a true test of operating under pressure, Teric might have felt cheated that Godhand had fallen so quickly.

"Grandmaster?" A short monk with a bowl and towel was standing next to him, and Teric saw out of the corner of his eye more monks scurrying towards the rubble Godhand had buried himself under. The monk was holding the wet towel out in offering, and smiled when Teric accepted the simple thing and held the cool dampness over his nose.

"That's it then?" Teric asked the man, just to make conversation.

"Yes. We will take both you and Master Striker back to the Pagoda. We'll have both of you patched up in no time." The monk turned to glance at his fellows digging through the debris as several attendants helped spectators trapped over the mess get down from their seats. The Akashiman pyromancers, forgotten since the start of the battle, had appeared again as if out of nowhere with their rockets and their flares.

The Grandmaster only half heard someone announce the battle's conclusion, and watched dumbly as several rockets streamed up into the air. The harsh whistling noise of their ascent hurt Teric's ears, and brought a sharp pain back to the throbbing headache he had.

"Let's get out of here then." Teric picked himself up off the ground with the monk's assistance and started walking for the arena gate. "And when Godhand wakes up," the Grandmaster continued casually, "tell him I want to have a word with him..."

[Call me J]

Well this was half man, half amazing. Godhand might be the MVP here, but Bloodrose is the winner.

Godhand
Total Score- 77

• STORY ~ 23/30

Continuity (9) ~ Both of you guys get very high marks in this category. I especially like the way that you used past history to put over the importance of this battle. You really gave this a “big match” feel.

Setting (7) ~ I really like the way that Godhand played to the crowd, and how the setting was used in the ending to create an ambiance of Godhand going down in a proverbial car wreck.

Pacing (7) ~ The ending makes me want to give you close to full marks in this category, but I really just can’t given the way that this battle started.

• CHARACTER ~ 22/30

Dialogue (7) ~ More than the verbal dialogue, it was the little touches, like keeping a hand to nurse Godhand’s wound, that helped you in this category.

Action (9) ~ I absolutely adored the end. It was absolutely the perfect move. You put over just how injured Godhand was, how very little energy he had left and how much he wanted to finish the battle, and then you had him go down in a crowd pleasing high spot with a total car wreck of a move.

Persona (6) ~ This was somewhat weak. Persona was consistent, but very superficial. This was definitely a battle for the spots.

• WRITING STYLE ~ 23/30

Mechanics (10) ~ I didn’t notice any errors here. And if I don’t see them, they don’t exist.

Technique (7) ~ The climax had the best use of technique in the battle. Note my comment for clarity as well.

Clarity (6) ~ The introduction was a bit confusing. I’m not sure if it was a stylistic choice on your part, but the first post came across as a failed attempt at stream of consciousness.

• Wild Card (9) ~ The mention of “Harvey” was absolutely priceless.

Bloodrose

Total Score- 79.5

• STORY ~ 21.5/30

Continuity (9) ~ See Godhand’s comment.

Setting (7) ~ The aspects of the setting that you described were much better described than the aspects of setting that Godhand described, but Godhand’s setting was vibrant. Combined, I got a very vivid feel for what was going on, and if I was scoring this as a combined effort, it would be much higher than the average of your scores.

Pacing (5.5) ~ Godhand’s conclusion somewhat redeemed this, but in general, this battle was way too much buildup and not enough action. Godhand’s final action really made up for him, but I don’t feel that I really got much excitement out of Bloodrose. You did a great job on creating a “big match” type of feel to this event, but that was about it.

• CHARACTER ~ 23/30

Dialogue (8) ~ Strong, if at times clichéd.

Action (8) ~ Seeing as this battle was somewhat choreographed by the two of you, I wanted to note what a good job you did in setting up the conclusion here. While Godhand’s character stole the show with his actions, Teric was the one who made them important.

Persona (7) ~ While this was a bit better than Godhand, you could have given me a bit more detail here. There is a fine line between good character and sitting your character on the couch, but you were far enough away from that line that you shouldn’t have worried about it here.

• WRITING STYLE ~ 26/30

Mechanics (10) ~ See Godhand’s comments.

Technique (7) ~ There weren’t many frills here, but it was well done.

Clarity (9) ~ There weren’t any problems here, but this wasn’t the most difficult story from your end, making me somewhat reluctant to award you a perfect score, especially in a competitive thread.

• Wild Card (9) ~ You did a really good job playing your role in this battle. Godhand positioned himself to be the “star” but instead of trying to upstage him, you did a great job of going with it and making this a great battle.

EXP and GP
Bloodrose receives 2500 EXP
Godhand receives 600 EXP + 200 Bonus EXP

Grandmaster Bonuses: Bloodrose receives 600 GP and 250 EXP

[Zook Murnig]

DONE