View Full Version : Rumble on RPA Dreamland vs splicer407 {J} Merry
Merry
03-19-2011, 07:29 PM
You find yourself in a large outdoor area, a full Colosseum, as if directly from ancient Rome. It has the appearance of being here for hundreds of years. The walls are bleached white from the blazing sun, and the stone is crumbling around the edges. The ground is hard back dirt from countless pairs of feet trampling through in battle. In some spots the ground appears darker, as if stained with the blood of previous inhabitants.
The arena could hold thousands of spectators, but today the seats are empty, with the exception of one lone nondescript figure, cloaked in gray.
A soft voice finds you as you view your surroundings, "Congratulations on your reaching this battle. I am Merry, your judge." it says from no where in particular, but seeming to come from everywhere at once.
"Here you fight until the death, forfeit or until one is unable to move. Injuries, even mortal, fatal or instant death wounds, shall be healed when the battle is over. The winner will advance to the final round. Good Luck to you......BEGIN!"
you will each get 6 posts, and your judge will jump in..you have ten days to complete your battle
DreamLand
03-23-2011, 09:22 AM
I clapped.
"Well done boy, you've made it all the way to the semi-finals!"
He did not hear me, for his mind was addled with something else.
"Lose here, and you would still have a chance yet at obtaining the bronze; but I will not have it! You will win here, or receive nothing!"
No response still. It then became apparent to me why my voice was being ignored.
"Kalivara re no setti bai..." A prayer, delivered with such monotone voice. He prayed to the Celestial Ocean, not of victory for himself or the insurgence, but for mercy. For his friends. For himself. For the Alk's as a whole; I found that last bit odd.
I inquired, "Why do you pray still to the Ocean, little Amleth, when it lends to you so little of it's vast might? Why not offer your tribute to me, the one who can grant your desires?"
His detestable chanting at an end, he answered the first question. "The church...I refuse to believe they are right about that. There must exist a reason for the weak and unenchanted."
I laughed. "And what if this reason is poor? Or what if your only reason to exist is to serve? The ocean may very well be without a god or without a mind. What would you say to it then?"
Hesitation. "My kind will find our own path then, without your help."
"Admirable. But you've given half an answer; what are we then?
"A temporary alliance borne from need. Nothing more."
Amused, I asked one of the only two questions I had left. "What then, would you say to me, should our partnership prove a failure?"
No hesitation. He said what is roughly the Athejin equivalent of "Fuck you".
I saved my last question on the matter for later.
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Amleth appeared in that dead pit of champions, his senses quickly adjusting to the new atmosphere. These surroundings, like the three prior, were fascinating.
The area was large, and much like with the cathedral, seating was provided for what must have been thousands of spectators. Not that there were to be any on this day, however. Examining the stone walls that surrounded the perimeter of the pit, Amleth was able to deduce that this decrepit place had long since resigned itself to obscurity, despite any of the fame it may have once held.
Amleth crouched down and grasped the earth that laid beneath him, having noticed it's peculiar colouring. The sand was hard and compact, making proposal that these grounds were once often treaded. But as for the darkened shade? Having theory as to why this was, he pulled from his coat a bottle of his own blood. He poured a third of the contents onto the ground, the subsequent workings of his fluid's engulfment proving his thoughts correct. This place had seen much blood spilled in the past, as it was sure to see again shortly.
But what exactly had this place been for? Why had the sands been allowed to feed? Was this another house of worship, where people offered sacrifice to some sort of twisted god? Was it a place of execution, where the convicted met their ends? Or, perhaps, it was a stadium in which that Alron warrior made combat for sport. Whatever the case, the events that transpired within were held as spectacle, by a culture that likely enjoyed spilling blood - a despicable culture.
Then, a voice spoke to him. Amleth tried looking for a source, but could find none. The voice seemed almost all-encompassing, as if the spectators had gathered once more. The maiden's voice gave instruction that he had already come to expect.
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The voice cried "Begin!", but the Alk was not ready to do just that. First he stared at his foe standing across the length of the sandy floor, his foe presumably doing likewise. While his vision was poor, his opponent had too many strongly recognizable features to escape some sort of early definition. He wore black, much like himself, but wore no sleeves, instead preferring to bear his marks. He wore a mask, which, with his previous fight considered, Amleth found somewhat ironic. More importantly, he was heavily armed. On his one arm, a gauntlet. On his hips, two strange weapons that the ex-miner could not quite identify. Then of course, was his large blade, which Amleth could only assume was his primary weapon of choice. The man seemed to be a melee fighter - though the witch from his first fight made an interesting case against the absoluteness of that statement - meaning that, as with Alron, he would need to avoid allowing the hooded one to enter striking range.
The option of scaling the decrepit walls seemed a fair one, but it seemed more wise to first make attempt at testing his foe's methods. Amleth withdrew his flaregun, and fired.
GraftRaven
03-24-2011, 01:07 AM
Arxus looked around, momentarily wondering if he had known this place before it was left in this ruined state. But that was of no consequence now; he gazed at his opponent who seemed to be some kind of worker, possibly in a mine, he though, because of the mask and safety gear. He hoisted the Breaker from his back, not knowing what to expect as this odd person pulled something from a pocket. Arxus swung the sword in front of him to deflect the red and orange flaming thing that flew at him, barely managing to deflect the flare and hang onto the sword. He moved his free hand away from the blade as deep crimson and black flames spread across the metal, the hilt remaining cool enough to grasp for the time being.
"I can't say I blame you..." Arxus' voice sounded just to the left of Amleth's head, then moved to the right side, "...but you could wait more than thirty seconds." He advanced forward, flaming blade at his right side, flames licking up and down the now completely obscured metal and causing little disturbances in the air.
DreamLand
03-24-2011, 06:43 AM
The flare was deflected expertly by the defender. The mark of a fine swordsman, no doubt, but what truly proved worrying was the blade's reaction to contact. As if such a large weapon was not in and of itself a force to be reckoned with, it had then become enveloped in an ominous black flame. Amleth couldn't help but be curious as to whether or not this dark fire had any special properties beyond pure aesthetics, but he stood unwilling to test any hypothesis. No, now was the time to run. His foe approached slowly and with an air of confidence, almost as if he wished to give the ex-miner another chance of attack. The reason for such a display seemed irrelevant: whatever the case may be, the more distance made between the two, the better.
Amleth began to slowly back away towards the wall several feet behind him, returning his flaregun to it's regular holster as he did so. He then withdrew one of his much beloved dynamite sticks, igniting it with haste. The bomb was given a weaker throw, with intent that it would land upon the ground rather than face interception in the air.
His cover having been made, he then turned and faced the wall that still stood some yards away. This particular section he was approaching had noticeably given way to crumbling, providing a most fortunate means of ascending to the seats above where better cover laid. Such retreat, of course would have the inconvenience of transversing up a mound of rubble that held questionable ability to support weight of any kind without shifting. It was a risk the Alk fancied worth taking.
GraftRaven
03-25-2011, 03:12 AM
Arxus watched the stick fall for a moment before recognizing it as an explosive, he was nearly too late, managing to dive and spin away. The movement and contact of the blade with the sand, along with the shockwave and shower of debris, caused the flame to flicker and vanish from its surface. Arxus stood, ears ringing and senses reeling, and turned back topology at the blast. An intimidating crater marked the blast radius and pulverized sand particles made the air thick, but he was able to spot his opponent attempting to scale one of the many collapsed sections of wall. His eye pulsed as he caught sight of his apparently fleeing prey, then darted forward with almost inhuman speed, closinvg to within a few yards of the man in just as few seconds.
Deliberating for a mere instant Arxus decided to get close, if he could get the right angle he might be able to ignite any more explosives prematurely. He leapt into the air on a trajectory that would easily clear the remaining distance, less than two yards now, and raised the Breaker with both hands, intending to cleave his opponent in half if the move worked correctly.
DreamLand
03-25-2011, 10:02 AM
The dynamite exploded, it's overwhelming noise music to Amleth's ears. Deciding to inspect the damage - as to see whether or not fleeing was now even in his best interest - Amleth turned to face the foe. Somehow, it seemed as if that slug of a man had been able to escape from the detonation unharmed. Such had been an anticipated outcome, so the Alk merely shrugged it off, turning back to the rubble that laid before him.
With all fours he had begun to make his climb, but despite all of his surprising nimbleness, he would not be able to outrun his foe. The Alk froze as he climbed, hearing footsteps so rapid that they alone could send tremors into a man. Within moments of avoiding his attack, the cloaked one had closed the distance between them. What speed! How could someone of that size, with that gear-
Amleth would have no time to ponder how this situation had been created, as the sheer suddenness of it all demanded an immediate reaction in kind. After a moment's hesitation, the swordsman made his leap into the air. While that blade of his seemed to be no longer ignited, the sheer force of such an attack stood to potentially end the fight in a single blow. There was no time to ascend the rest of the way, and tumbling off the side of the rubble would only spare him from the immediate attack, for such tremendous speed meant he would likely not miss a second time. So instead, the miner turned onto his back, his feet struggling to remain grounded to the rubble on their own. He raised his shield, and the two weapons clashed in a hail of sparks. The shield, given it's properties, was able to reflect much of the blunt force, at the cost of receiving a noticeable dent in it's centre. This meant Amleth's spine was kept from snapping, but his back was still brought to ache with pain not easily ignored.
An avenue for escape was created, but it was short and prone to possible failure. Not having much of a choice, Amleth withdrew from his coat a smoke bomb, then hastily igniting and dropping it upon the rubble. He turned around once more, and, with even greater anxiety than before, the ex-miner scurried up the remaining rubble. Under cover of the smoke, he then made one of the most dangerous choices imaginable: he unbuckled his shield, hurtling it towards the smoke. Amleth had come to realize that hit and run tactics - his only real hope at winning - would be made impossible in this fight if carried the shield with him. His foe was simply to fast to play defender, so it was best to abandon the dead weight and hope - no, pray - for the best.
With not enough time to yet go into hiding, the Alk simply began to run up the closest flight of stairs, as fast as his hurt body would allow.
GraftRaven
03-27-2011, 08:17 PM
The Breaker collided with the shield, then bounced off and embedded itself in the rubble as Arxus' weight landed on top of it. His arms ached from the sudden stop of the blade and he barely caught himself on the unstable pile of broken stone below him. Arxus grabbed one of the Talons and used it to get a grip on the slope, then released the sword and grabbed the other Talon to start climbing, but was nearly knocked off the rubble again when smoke and an acrid smell billowed up around him. The smell was a bad sign and he held his breath until he was nearly out of the cloud and in the stands.
During this time Arxus had lost all notion of where his oponent was, though he could not have gone too far. He paused to look around, then spotted the man, shield now abandoned, running up a nearby staircase. "You can't run forever, bug!" His single crimson eye flashed and then complete darkness fell upon the arena. Arxus could still see in the dim red light cast by his eye and started scrambling over the seats and benches to reach the man, determined to win this fight.
DreamLand
03-28-2011, 09:08 AM
Amleth continued to flee, watching each of his steps carefully, as to prevent himself from tripping upon the weathered and cracked stairs. Nevertheless, despite all of his nimble footing, there was little that the surprised Alk could do when his opponent roared with vengeance, and the entire arena was shrouded in an impenetrable shade. As it happened so very quickly, Amleth's recognition of the path ahead was stricken, causing his unsuspecting self to stumble and fall upwards upon a loose piece of rubble. His forearms broke the fall, and luckily he was not injured much further than from the collision before.
Amleth returned to his feet. He then ascended the remaining stairs of the lowest level, all the while desperately trying to locate his foe in the sea of darkness. He could hear armour clatter and stone crumble as the pursuer clambered over the seating, but his hearing was not strong enough to pinpoint an exact direction.
After reaching the bottom of the second level, Amleth released his bag of marbles and barbs by the top of the previous staircase, hoping that it would further slow down his enemy. He then crouched down and took cover behind the first row of seats he could feel out, his mind racing too find a plan all the while. His first instinct was to reload his flaregun, but upon realizing that the flare gun and broken in the earlier collision, his heart sank.
But the former miner refused to remain deterred, for he had seen similar situations in time passed. The whole thing had a hint of nostalgia. Standing in pitch black. Unstable earth crumbling underneath his feet. A savage creature in pursuit, and his only options were to continue mining upwards or to try darting in and out of the various "tunnels". Amleth took a deep breath and with it, became more clear headed than he had been in years. This darkness was the beast's domain, but he thought himself to know it even better, blind or not.
Confidence alone was not enough though, he needed a solution. Presumably, the swordsman could see in the dark, so hiding would only be so effective. Somehow he needed to go on the attack. After a moment, that nudging across his lower back demanded attention. The firework! A tool so uncommonly used, that it had not occurred to him until then that he had actually bothered to carry it with him throughout the tournament. He pulled it out and to his front, inspecting it for any damage; a small tare caused presumably in the collision had leaked most of the contents...leaving them most likely spilled across the stairs. Perfect. Even if his opponent had chosen the seating, the generous amount of gunpowder and chemicals would provide light illumination to the general vicinity. It was likely that the explosions themselves would not be close enough to the enemy, but there was a slim chance that the barbs and marbles would.
Of course, without his sight, igniting the powders from a distance would be beyond his capabilities. So instead, he was forced to take the far more dangerous course of action. He stood and gave a spark to the paper of his firework, setting it aflame. Amleth gave the fragment a gentle toss towards the stairs, and it began to roll downwards, lighting - and exploding - the way...the first small explosion had occured only just as the fragment left his hand. His flame-resistant coat was not penetrated to deeply, but that was not the real issue. Still standing, the Alk tried his best to muffle the howl that came from two of his fingers being lost.
GraftRaven
03-29-2011, 01:13 AM
As he neared the second level Arxus heard a flurry of movement and what sounded like a cascade of ball bearings hit the stone floor, he would have to circle around, an inconvenience at worst. It was then that he saw the rather dim flash of light and heard a muffled cry of pain, then more explosions as some kind of compound explosive device tumbled down the steps, igniting pools and trails of more black powder and sparking bright colored explosions. Then something changed, the object began to spin more furiously as Arxus watched, and finally shot towards him. He had but an instant to react and hastily flung himself behimd a short stone bench.
It was just enough, his left hand, encased in Death's gauntlet, was struck by the projectile and very nearly broken through the leather and metal. The shower of flame and sparks gave him more to think about as it ignited parts of his clothing, burning away parts of the shirt that covered his chainmail armor as well as part of his hood.
He quickly extinguished most of the flames, then used the last bit to light the Talon in his right hand, causing it to be enveloped in those crimsoin flames. His opponent could likely just see the flames, but it mattered little, there was enough cover to use to keep him guessing. Arxus did just that, he began circling around the location where his opponent was cowering in the stands, occassionally letting slip a glimpse of crimson as he made his way around him, and teasing him with his voice-throwing all the while.
"You think you can use your tricks to catch me, but surely you know this to be false." Arxus slowly circled around to the other side, every word coming from a different direction. "I have avoided your explosives, your fancy rocket, you tried to choke me with gas, but that attempt failed too." He began to close in, letting less light escape the flaming metal. "I don't think you know why, but you know you cannot beat me, I'll tell you why..." At this point his voice echoed all around the stadium, coming both from the far walls and seemingly so close that the wetness of his voice could cause the hairs of even the most brave of men to stand on end. "... I've already been killed, and by much greater than you."
He was mere yards away, soon would be the time to initiate the final series of blows...
DreamLand
03-30-2011, 04:03 AM
Amleth stumbled about momentarily, as the immediate shock disappeared and came to be replaced with a searing pain that burned deep within his entire arm. His hands were symmetrical for the first time in years, but this proved poor consolation as the bleeding from his amputated fingers was being cauterized by small flames that had attached themselves to him. He could hardly stomach the urge to scream in pain, and it was within his best interests to seat himself before his dizziness caused him to tumble down the stairs. However, much like when the Liloth had broken his arm and split open his side, the only way to deal with the pain was to grin and bare it.
Eager to continue the fight, The Alk patted out the fire on his right glove. He approached the stairs with caution, hoping that he was not too late to spot his foe. The beast was there, still some distance from him, extinguishing the remainder of the flames. Amleth went to reach for an explosive to throw at him, but stopped short when the aching in his hand caused him to recoil. Still, he was not out of luck. His foe had taken the chance to ignite his sword with a raging fire, leaving his possibilities for stealth compromised. It seemed however, that the beast was willing to use his incredible speed to help compensate. He was circling around him, and would soon close in.
Cradling his newly injured hand with the one which had known the sensation long ago, Amleth tried his hardest to focus in on the situation. He took a knee. Under his breath, he uttered a small Athejian prayer; he did so not for mercy, but simply to help steady his breathing and his nerves for the grand finish that was soon to come.
Amleth headed into the front row of the second level, crouched down and lowered his coat past his shoulders. "You think you can use your tricks to catch me, but surely you know this to be false." Amleth pulled down the first sleeve, his hands still shaking. "I have avoided your explosives, your fancy rocket, you tried to choke me with gas, but that attempt failed too." The flames danced; Amleth pulled down the second sleeve, and the coat was now in his hands. "I don't think you know why, but you know you cannot beat me, I'll tell you why..." Amleth managed to smirk curiously; he removed the explosive cigar from his coat, pocketing it. He did the same for a stick of dynamite. "... I've already been killed, and by much greater than you." A small chill ran down the Alk's back, but he was not fooled by the attempt at voice manipulation, already having clear sight of the sickening flames. Amleth walked out into the aisle, coat in hand. He dropped upon the ground in front of him, it's back to the ground. All the tools within were exposed.
The Alk went into the final stage of initiating his desperate stratagem. His voice as sly as he could manage, Amleth gave a response rather cryptic to anyone but an Alk, "If your soul has wandered from the stars above..." The beast was but a few moments away; the Alk dropped the cigar onto the coat. "...then may you find a ferry back to sea." With his feeble pyrokinesis he lit the prank, and it in turn began to immediately sizzle. Amleth turned and ran for the stairs, as the cigar exploded behind him. The reaction was almost immediate: the four sticks of dynamite and two remaining shrapnel bombs - and less consequently, two smoke bombs and a handful of firecrackers - detonated in turn. The smog filled eruption then brought the chain reaction further, sending his bear trap, spikes, barb wire, and warpick flying with blinding speed in separate directions.
Amleth made a dive for the stairs, as shrapnel flew into his back and the force of the dynamite propelled him through the air. The wire that had choosen to betray him was narrowly avoided. He began to tumble down the stairs, and it was almost certain that he would break some bones - but hopefully not his neck - before he reached the bottom. It had been an insane, yet he deemed it necessary, tactic. If it failed, then his only remaining plan was to retrieve his shield and detonate the dynamite he had pocketed at point-blank range of his enemy. Either way, he would push on. He couldn't afford to concede defeat.
Merry
04-03-2011, 04:36 AM
A loud clap of thunder was heard throughout the arena, freezing the contestants in their places. The judge stood slowly and her voice carried across the arena.
"Well done, both of you. I declare this battle over, you have both fought bravely and with honor. Thank you for your participation, and for letting me judge your match. For this match I declare the winner to be Dreamland. He moves on to the final round. X will face off in the bronze round. Congratulations to you both!"
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