Open Battle

[Tyranus]

“I really don’t see the need for this.” Sarah complained as she trudged along the dirt road behind her guardian, Rex. Fresh off the ferry from Scara Brea and they couldn’t even stop in Radasanth for a single night. No, Rex said, he had important business that absolutely had to be taken care of first. How a being she brought to life by accident could already have business in a place she’d never even been to, was beyond her. Nonetheless he was determined and she dared not stray far from him.

Ignoring her, Rex plodded along without slowing. He jingled a little with each step he took, his weapons lightly brushing his boots as they swung rhythmically. The Citadel was fast approaching in the distance visible only as a dark spire topping the grove around its base. Spoken of in all the far corners of the world, the place was a testament to the unrivaled brutality of thinking creatures and the generosity of the monks who healed all be they noble knights in training or dark enemies of all that is good.

Sure, the Citadel was basically a temple dedicated to his preferred aspect of life, but that wasn’t why he was here. Nothing felt quite right about him, he felt out of shape, or perhaps dull. That was a better word for it. When he swung his axe and stabbed his sword Rex could feel there was something gone. He didn’t have any memories of it, but he knew. He’d work it out in the Citadel and earn it back if need be.

When at last the pair reached the lobby, the citadel was in full motion. Sarah reeled at the amount of magic that seemed to permeate the place, not all of it emanating from monks. Rex cast wary eyes about and kept within feet of his master on account of the unexpectedly shady looking group. Rogues and scoundrels the lot of them, though that was just as well. It was rare true warriors like himself attacked frail looking women like Sarah, so he’d best get good at killing the shifty cowards by the dozens while he had the chance.

Snagging a passing monk by the shoulder, Rex put in his request for a battle. “One foe, his theatre of choice. Just nothing too extreme, like a volcano or some crazy shit like that. I hear some wackos fight in places like that, but not me.”

Without blinking an eye, the monk calmly accepted the interruption, nodded, and then led the pair down a dark curving hallway filled on both sides with innumerable doors and past intersections of similar hallways. Stopping abruptly, the monk picked a door seemingly at random. “Your opponent awaits.” With those brief words the monk moved off disappearing into the darkness almost immediately.

[Charles]

"Your opponent awaits." The voice shouldn't have carried so well, but it was probably something in the magic of the place that made it work. The mentalist remained seated for a moment, before flowing to his feet, clad head to foot in black iron plate mail, and with a hammer of almost preposterous size in his hand, balancing him as he rose from the ground.

It was actually a largeish stone room, with a door at either end. The far door had just opened, and the challenger was being ushered in by the monk. The walls rose 15 feet straight up, before the ceiling ended the possibility of further upward movement. The room was square, and only slightly shorter than a football field on each side. The solid wood floor was unpolished and slightly rough, to provide better traction, something the squat juggernaut now reaching his feet would need in spades. Small arrow slits in the walls let a tiny amount of light in, but the main light was provided by oil lamps on the walls.

Charles took two steps to the side, and propped himself against a heavy barrel next to him. The barrels were scattered throughout the room, and filled with lamp oil, creating a combined hazard and opportunity for cover.

"The monk wasn't kidding. I'm waiting." The thick baritone of the massive warrior was going to echo out of the room, despite the fact that he spoke so quietly. It was magic. Who was he to question. He didn't use it, he made it fail.

[Tyranus]

Impatient. Or Eager. Rex smiled to himself as he evaluated his enemy. The man wasn’t very tall, but he still felt huge. He had on proper plate mail, though its dull darkness marked it for iron. Would his steel blades strike through? Maybe, but even if they didn’t this man was in for pain.

Waving Sarah back into the hallway, Rex entered the room and closed the door behind him, hearing the telltale clicking of lock tumblers falling into place. Shouting out to his opponent, the guardian drew his weapons. “Well met, warrior. I’ll not keep you longer.”

Gently striking his weapons together the seven foot hulk moved to engage in combat, his grey coat trailing. In just a few long strides he crossed to within striking distance. Unhesitating, Rex struck out with his otherworldly strength. First the sword to his right struck forward in a momentum powered stab, following almost instantly with a body-twisting swipe of his axe leaving him vulnerable to the left. The simple gut stab and shoulder clearing swipe weren’t very inspired but even through armor would leave lasting black and blue reminders.

Rex smiled with anticipation, sincerely hoping his opponent would not be undone so easily. He’d probably take a blow for testing his opponent so openly, but he wasn’t without his own armor and confident his strength could pull him through.

[Charles]

The hammer came up as the man was walking, seeming to almost teleport from his side to his hands. From his belt a dagger flashed out, flung by the force of his mind. The shining steel would keep the attacker on his toes, and the other 6 to follow would do just as well. The sword clanged off of the armor, leaving a slight mark, but not quite managing to puncture it yet. The he responded.

A single step forward, a prodigious swing, and nearly twenty five pounds of steel crossed the distance between the two combatants just as the axe handle knocked against his shoulder. The physics of the attack worked against his opponent, he had better reach than Charles, yes, but now the thickly built mentalist was inside his reach, and the axe was going to be hard to use with the shorter man inside his arc.

"That's good." The deep baritone was devoid of almost any emotion, but it didn't change the facts. Charles was impressed. It WAS an obvious opening set of blows, but it was an effective one. It was going to tell his opponent some of the things he wanted to know about how Charles fought. It also told Charles something about his opponent as well, and how he responded to the incoming hammer strike would say even more.

[Tyranus]

Rex’s grin faded as his sword gouged the plate but failed to pierce. Combined with the ineffectual sweeping blow of his axe it became apparent the iron plate was much thicker than expected. Surprisingly, his opponent moved swiftly despite his squat stump-like build and countered with a might swing of his hammer.

Spotting the blow too late, Rex couldn’t even attempt a parry before the huge hammer struck his breastplate just beneath his right arm. Hit off his balance, he rolled several feet away leaving deep furrows in the hardwood flooring from his weapons and armor before regaining his feet. Only when he checked for denting did Rex notice the small dagger sticking out from his shoulder, piercing the coat and stuck nearly through his armor. Twice, the iron chest piece had saved him from this surprising opponent. He hadn’t even seen the dagger, a frightening realization.

He needed to change tactics. First step was to consider the arena, gain any advantage it offered. The barrels stuck out first as the only moveable items around, though the lamps could probably be pulled from the walls. Moving quickly to the nearest barrel, Rex rapidly pulled it over and slashed the side with his sword before kicking it at the deep voiced warrior.

Now the roles would be reversed, and Rex would be on the defense. Not content with just utilizing the weapons he brought, the tall guardian grabbed a second barrel and broke a small hole in the top with the axe hilt before sheathing his weapons. Muscles straining, Rex hefted the barrel and poured a semicircle of thick goopy oil between himself and his enemy. Half empty, Rex lifted the barrel clear overhead and waited for his opponent to come within throwing distance.

[Charles]

OOC: Correct, just one dagger for now

IC:

The cloying smell of lamp oil filled the room, thick, sweet, and dangerous. The mentalist had started towards his opponent, seeing him retreating, but the thick oil was a threat he wasn't willing to discount, and he stopped short of what he thought the mans throwing range might be. He wasn't breathing heavily yet, but if they ever really got into it he'd be panting in no time. That didn't matter yet though, his voice was still clear and free of the ragged quality shortness of breath bestowed on it. "You can't hold that up forever, and I've got all the time in the world waiting for you to drop it on your own head."

He stepped back a moment, walked over to another barrel, and brandished his hammer, before sending it smashing into the thick wood, shattering the top portion of the barrel and revealing a deep well of oil. He reached to his belt and pulled out a dagger, dipping the blade in the oil. The film of flammables coating the blade served a purpose. He demonstrated that purpose a moment later when he smashed the glass on a lamp, igniting the oil on his knife blade. If his adversary wouldn't come to him, he would force the man to attack. The dagger was burning merrily, and the flaming steel bridged the gap between the pair with terrifying speed. It wasn't aimed at the mans body. Its flight terminated with a wicked impact in the wood of the barrel above his head. The burning knife embedded in the wood would force the man to drop it, or throw it away.

Now the hammer came back up, hefted back into swinging position. Charles started walking towards his opponent slowly, conserving his energy for the fight that was to come. He might move fluidly in his armor, but that didn't mean he wasn't exerting himself to carry the heavy plate mail he wore. His opponent was right. The iron in his armor WAS unusually thick. It was a compromise he had reached long ago, the balance between protection, and weight. It was only slightly less effective than steel armor, and weighed nearly twice as much. The armored menace was moving in on his opponent, and it was going to interesting to see what he did.

[Tyranus]

Twisting uncomfortably, Rex took deep breaths to steady himself and keep the barrel over his head. Not only had his enemy acted to ignite the oil before him, but he’d aimed to light the oil directly overhead. Having no choice, lest the oil light atop himself, Rex braced himself and heaved the barrel as far as he could. Even if the barrel came up short, burning oil might still splash on the enemy as the barrel exploded against the hardwood flooring.

Pulse pounding in his ears, Rex took a moment to catch his breath. By now his skin was sure to have turned blue from exertion. Normally he would have tried to exploit his almost demonic change in appearance to scare his foes but that trick would without doubt fail against the hardy warrior he faced. Eyeing his opponent walking closer, the sound of splintering wood could be heard distinctly. Of course, in such heavy armor his opponent’s boots would be crushing the floor with each lumbering step.

Formulating his plan quickly, Rex knew what he needed to do. He would wear his opponent down, force him to move and drain his endurance with each weighty step. Drawing his weapons and leaping over his oil-slicked perimeter, Rex quickly moved around the stout warrior until the oil was once more in front of himself and behind his enemy. Avoiding the wreckage of the barrel, Rex charged forward with a renewed fury, striking at his opponent as fast and furiously as he could. Looming over his shoulder-height foe Rex struck with reckless abandon, aiming mostly for the head and shoulders in an attempt to topple the wide warrior or least push back to the slippery oil behind him. Sword and axe struck wildly along his elbows and fists still clutching weapons, anything to maintain the attack as long as possible.

[Charles]

The attack came straight in, and Charles met it with his own brand of fury. His hand had been splashed in oil, and the jagged black iron of his gauntlet was burning merrily. He choked up on his hammer, changing its balance, and letting him use it, clumsily, in one hand. The free hand, the burning hand, lashed out in a brutal jab. He couldn't punch the other man in the face very effectively. The height difference was too great, but he could aim for less protected bodyparts. This blow arrowed in on his hip, hoping to either punch through or damage the lighter armor on the legs.

Steel clanged off of thick iron, creasing it repeatedly, but still failing to fully penetrate, as far as the other warrior could tell. In actuality, he was drawing a tiny amount of blood every time, the steel grazing the arm or shoulder beneath the armor with almost every blow. The hammer lashed out after the fist, slower than before, but with just as much weight behind it. He wasn't trying to even hurt the larger man this time, just force him to back off. Even if the swing missed, Charles was going to let the hammer go at the end of its arc, and if his enemy wasn't watchful, the hammerhead might just cripple his foot, and put them back on an even footing, before the smaller mans mace came out and started to hammer away at his armor.

[Tyranus]

Rex ground his teeth stubbornly as heat seared his leg right through his padded leggings, but continued the attack. Between blows the sight of his enemy’s smoking hand dripping blood caused him to wince, knowing he could walk no longer. Hopefully the monks could heal that.

Feeling his opponent’s desperation, Rex grinned just before the hammer hit him. The bones in his arm broke, but he shrugged it off with a grunt and continued the attack one handed with only his axe remaining. Taking a staggering step back, Rex almost grinned at his unarmed opponent. He’d dropped his hammer, the head lodged more than halfway in the floor.

As his opponent drew a mace from somewhere on his person, Rex tried to attack but nearly fell on his face instead. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his breaths were coming unusually short. The hammer must have broken some ribs and punctured a lung. Anywhere but the Citadel and he would have fled and with a fair chance at success given his foe’s stature, but not here. Pulling on his last reserves, Rex heaved himself forward ignoring the burning in his lung and his leg. With a half-hearted swing of his axe, Rex leaped at the short man intent on taking them both into the burning oil nearby.

[Charles]

The blow severed his arm. It struck on a weak spot in the armor, he'd taken a couple hits their already, and the heavy black iron parted with a scream of tortured metal, matched by the scream put out by the shorter man who'd suffered the injury. The mace dropped from nerveless fingers, and the arm holding it followed shortly. A last desperate swing with his flaming gauntlet caught the larger man in mid leap, and this time he had a chance of connecting with the larger mans head, before their combined weight bore them backwards into the flaming oil. Normally he would have regretted the agony when the stump of his arm met the flaming liquid, but with the amount of adrenaline he had in his system, the pain barely registered. The fact that the fire seared the open wound shut was simply a bonus, stopping the blood loss that would have killed him just as fast as the fire or his enemies weapons might have. He wasn't completely coherent any longer, and he lashed about with his free arm, not knowing if he could even hurt the other man any more, weakened, burning, and near to death.

OOC: No bunnying needed. I think we're both fairly well dead at this point anyway.

[Tyranus]

This is my last post. After you post I'll submit it for judging.
His final and weakest attack had been wildly successful, but Rex could not relish it. Before the limp hand had even struck the floor the big man had responded and struck a mighty gauntleted blow to the guardian’s dome. Time slowed down and Rex looked upon his slow falling body from several feet away.

Dispassionately he observed his body as the flame consumed it, noted the broken bones pressing against the collar of his shirt. His enemy had been fierce, a slow but effective opponent. He should have done better, he’d taken blows that could have been avoided. It must have been the Citadel, it made him sloppy.

As his body writhed a final time in the fire, the monks pulled on his spirit. It was time to return to the living. The arena melted and bent and he was pulled, not unlike the first time he had been summoned into living by Sarah. He was surrounded by darkness and then all at once brought to life. Blinking his eyes at the sudden light, Rex found himself standing in the stone corridor with many doors and light from the lobby casting tremendous shadows to his right. In front of him stood Sarah, exactly as she had been if perhaps a tad bit more worried.

As the pair walked back towards Radasanth, Rex suddenly voiced the thoughts he’d been mulling over. “It’s that place. Makes me complacent. I still strike just as hard, but I lose something. My choices don’t make sense. I need it to matter if I live or die.”

“I need that edge.”

[Charles]

It burned. Oil seeped through the cracks in his armor, searing his flesh, burning him all the way to his bones, and turning his suit into a death trap. His opponent had died, but he was following soon after. His body was burning, the pain was fading though, his vision was graying over as the spirit fled his body.

He woke in an empty stone room, his equipment and weapons nearby, his thick armor was repaired, his mace and hammer in evidence... The only oddity was the missing arm. His plate mail he knew had been badly damaged, his arm destroyed by the attack of the tall fighter, but his equipment should have been repaired when he was. He reached out to touch the armor, and suddenly understood why the armor had not been repaired. The monks had not bothered, his arm was missing, having armor on it would have been redundant. "Damn..." His powers nullified magic. Without his control, it had nullified a portion of the healers magic, leaving him crippled. His primary hand was gone, he couldn't swing his hammer, he was going to be fairly hopeless with his mace. Reduced to throwing daggers at his foes for the foreseeable future, it was an unpleasant thought. He laboriously donned his armor, concentrating his powers to compensate for the loss, and fit the heavy plates of iron over his body. The hammer was slung over his back, his mace dangled again from his belt, and his daggers were arrayed for use.

The first step was the hardest, leaving behind his arm was hard. He wasn't just leaving behind a part of himself, he was leaving behind a good portion of his skills and ability to survive. He was leaving behind part of who he was.

OOC: I am aware that normally the monks can heal anything, but I would like to keep the arm severed for awhile.

[Ataraxis]

Quest Judging
Open Battle

At long last, your judgment is here. Just comments, as was asked, though you may find me rambling on and on at some point. Professional deformation… sort of.

Tyranus is blue, Charles is yellow

STORY

Continuity ~

6/10. I understood that Sarah and Rex are from Scara Brae and that Sarah had summoned him into existence by accident. These points were well portrayed, but other than that there was a great dearth of continuity. What Sarah did before coming here is a mystery to me, and you could have dropped a tiny hint at why Rex could know of things he shouldn’t know. Just a supposition on his or her part would have worked. You did work in an interesting reason for him to be there, though.

4.5/10. I virtually know nothing of Charles. The only information you gave in your first post only revealed his ability for nullifying magic. Where he comes from, what he does exactly in his life, why he’s even at the Citadel (other than the vague and generic ‘to fight’) is unknown to the reader. Try adding more of his background here and there, and not just to give the judge something to talk about in Continuity. It’s important to make basic information about a character readily available unless you have a very good reason to keep things secret. Such additions would easily instill more life to your character.

Setting ~

5.5/10. You manage to make things very vivid, through short yet detailed enough descriptions as well as interaction with the surroundings that’s done in a very realistic way. My only qualm is that, the more the battle went on, the blurrier the arena actually got. In the end, they fought with the barrels and oil lamps, which were really the only things of interest in this arena. I think you would have easily gotten a 7 or more with a different one and if you’d put more effort in the last few posts.

5/10. Same than with Tyranus, though you falter at some points by describing things with anachronistic terms, like that football field. I’ll also have to dock you a bit since you came up with the arena, which was simple to a fault. It was as bare as a stage, with the oil lamps and barrels being the only props – it was Chekhov’s gun all over again. I know the request was for a simple arena, but ‘nothing too extreme’ could have been a castle hallway or a throne room, with all the things you usually find there.

Pacing ~

6.5/10. This battle started very well, and I was drawn into your writing fairly quickly. I liked where things were going, until it the attacks and counterattacks become so clustered together that it was a bit harder to envision the actual exchange of blows. Things also seemed to deteriorate as it neared the end, though your conclusion did get my interest. You seem to favor detailed brevity, and you were quite successful with it for a while. Later on in the battle, I found myself finishing your posts with a sense of dissatisfaction, expecting more flesh or paragraphs less heavily-crammed with successions of battle maneuvers.

5.5/10. You were supposed to get sensibly the same score as Tyranus here, but the obvious decrease of quality in the last two posts really did hurt you. I do know you’re of a school of brevity, and you manage it well, but sometimes your posts do seem to lack. They read too fast and that breaks the flow of writing.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~

7/10. I liked Rex’ lines. They’re lively in that gruff way, and make him stand out from the legions of tall, muscle-bound, knight-like fighters out there. There’s also a depth to his words, nothing philosophical, but a certain awareness of his condition as a familiar/human that I also enjoyed. Sarah didn’t get much screen-time, and so didn’t really say anything memorable, though.

6/10. I think he said four things in this battle. “The monk wasn’t kidding. I’m waiting.” “That’s good.” “Damn…” There was also "You can't hold that up forever, and I've got all the time in the world waiting for you to drop it on your own head." The first three made him feel like that kind of blasé, arrogant and snarky warrior, but gave very little depth to his character. At least with the fourth, we actually do get a sense of intelligence from the guy, while staying in character with what was displayed. I know t hat battles don’t invite a lot of talking, but the intro and conclusion posts are good places to compensate.

Action ~

7/10. Bold, I know, but I do think you guys were fairly equal in action. You both went above the shlick-clang-clash-shlick of flynning, and actually fought with the opponent’s height, build, speed and armor in mind. Tyranus may have made a mistake in lifting the barrel, but it’s mistakes like these that make battles more realistic. Charles showed his critical mind when he ignited the barrel Rex was holding. The fiery gauntlet was a bit much, especially since he didn’t seem much incommoded by it. As for Rex, I know that it takes more to bring him down, but just glancing off the pain of broken ribs? That’s a bit excessive. The death in flames, though highly predictable, was still a decent conclusion to their fight.

Persona ~

6.5/10. Most was said in the dialogue. I only docked half a point because his personality was less apparent in the narrative, as were some of his emotions.

6/10. I’d say what was displayed in the narrative is on par with what you conveyed through his dialogue.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~

6/10. Your first post was more of a 7, but I made this an overall average. You have a way wit words and you do pique the reader’s interest with your writing, which is vivid and natural. You could do more when it comes to imagery, though, because the fight felt a bit too technical.

5/10. A similar thing happened to you, though near the end you really seemed to have lost interest. The narrative was messy there and didn’t reflect the clarity and economy of words you boasted in the first posts. You have a very interesting style and it did draw me in. My only suggestion is to be more consistent through a thread or battle, and to work on your imagery with a few literary devices.

Mechanics ~

9/10. Obvious grasp of the English language. The only mistakes I’ve noticed can be found in my notes below.

8/10. Same as Tyranus, though run your posts through a word processor to check your spelling if you can. Typos and a variety of mistakes with homonyms can be found in the notes. Most of your mistakes came from the ending posts. You also should watch your commas. Sometimes, a semi-colon separates things better. A period could do the same, too.

Clarity ~

7/10. You both basically had the same shortcomings here. By smashing a lot of combat maneuvers into a single paragraph, the reader can easily lose track of what’s happening. Obviously, though, you two weren’t cryptic in any way, but I did have to reread a lot of passages, just to ensure I didn’t miss anything. This is why spreading out posts into 4 or 5 paragraphs can help.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~

4/10. Just so you know, a 4 isn’t bad for a Wild Card. I enjoyed that the fight itself wasn’t generic, and I enjoyed your writing, but this remained a very simple battle, with so-so character growth and not really any plot or twist to speak of. The nature of this thread just doesn’t warrant a higher WC score.

3.5/10. I enjoyed your writing, but the score here is low for the same reasons as Tyranus WC. You would’ve gotten the same as Tyranus if the last posts hadn’t felt so unsatisfactory. Moreover, you did disappear for a month. Half a point bonus for losing an arm in a Citadel fight and for having it make moderate sense.

TOTAL ~

64.5 for Tyranus!

57.5 for Charles!

Tyranus wins the battle!

EXP Rewards

Rex Tyranus gains: 550 + 100 = 650 XP!

Charles Talbott gains: 200 + 100 = 300 XP!

GP Rewards

Rex Tyranus gains: 375 + 50 = 425 GP!

Charles Talbott gains: 150 + 50 = 200 GP!

Other Rewards

Rex Tyranus gains: a shock-resistant flask of oil from the monks as a memento! Can be used to light oil lamps and forest fires. Well, just oil lamps, preferably.

Charles Talbott gains: a lost arm (though he can bring it back with him if he wants)! Since the monks felt bad for not being able to heal him, they gave him a small, sealable wooden container that fits in his hand. It contains a non-magical salve that can heal minor cuts, scrapes and bruises in half the usual time.

FINAL NOTES

You probably noticed the bonus XP and GP. That’s compensation for the previous judging complications, Tyranus, and that’s added on top of the fact that you guys didn’t ask for any spoils.

All in all, good job. Hope I’ll soon get to see more of the tales of Tyranus and Talbott!




Odd-numbered are Tyranus, even-numbered are Charles

How a being she brought to life by accident could already have business in a place she’d never even been to, was beyond her (1) comma unnecessary, breaks the flow

Largeish (2) largish. Note: I thought of a large geisha. Relevant? Perhaps.

The room was square, and only slightly shorter than a football field on each side. (3) Football fields don’t exist in Althanas. Some say that it doesn’t matter when the reader knows what you’re talking about, but the truth is that it is still not pertinent to the genre, and creates a bad contrast.

The he responded (4) Then he

A single step forward, a prodigious swing, and nearly twenty five pounds of steel crossed the distance between the two combatants just as the axe handle knocked against his shoulder. The physics of the attack worked against his opponent, he had better reach than Charles, yes, but now the thickly built mentalist was inside his reach, and the axe was going to be hard to use with the shorter man inside his arc. (4) Punctuation and syntax. Suggest a semi-colon instead of a comma, or a simple period.

"That's good." The deep baritone was devoid of almost any emotion, but it didn't change the facts. Charles was impressed. It WAS an obvious opening set of blows, but it was an effective one. It was going to tell his opponent some of the things he wanted to know about how Charles fought. It also told Charles something about his opponent as well, and how he responded to the incoming hammer strike would say even more. (4) Lots of Charles, Charles, Charles. Use more pronouns and periphrases for the guy. Repeating names should be used for effect.

it was going to interesting to see what he did. (6) to be interesting

light atop himself, Rex braced himself (7) himself, r.w. There’s also barrel after that, but it’s bothersome to a much lesser extent.

he'd taken a couple hits their already, (10) there

fire or his enemies (10) enemy’s

The first step was the hardest, leaving behind his arm was hard. (12) I think a semi-colon works better here than a comma.

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!