Round 1: Alchemist (Faust) VS. Acrobat (Xomath) - Judge Merry

[Merry]

You find yourself in the center of a coliseum. Twisted metal and shattered glass litter the ground beneath your feet. The age of the structure cannot be determined as the destruction is quite immense but has fallen into such destruction and disarray. A strong wind might cause it to just collapse around you. What was once a beautiful cloud covered ceiling, is now cracked and destroyed. Many of the panes of glass are broken and missing. The pieces that are left are fragmented and cracked. You can see directly through to the sky, high above through the many missing pieces.

The ground is hard packed dirt. Hard packed by many feet, during many battles. When it was in its prime this coliseum would boast battles of immense violence and bloodshed. The seating could handle easily over twenty thousand bodies in attendance. Twenty thousand screaming voices. Voices that are now long forgotten. Were they to be seated there, for your battle the din of their screaming would be deafening. A battle such as yours and they would be screaming for you. Screaming for your blood to be shed.

http://www.hd-wallpaper.images-fonds.com/modules/mg3/albums/Art_Digital_Wallpaper_HD/Fantasy/Fantasy_wallpaper_HD_0022.jpg

After each combatant makes two (2) posts, the GM will make a post on any changing conditions
You have 5 posts per person and 72 hours to respond between each post
By my crystal ball, and sacrifices to the overlord himself The Alchemist (faust) goes first
Best of luck to you both

[ilax silverkin]

Faust looked around the broken coliseum, looking at the shape it was in he knew he had to be careful what he did, too much and this whole place could fall down on top of him. Reaching inside his cloak he slowly wrapped his fingers around the cold handle of his scalpel as he searched for his opponent, there would only be one reason he was in a coliseum and that would be to fight. Crouching down so he was smaller and less likely to be seen among the rubble he slowly began to carve a circle into the mud of the floor, writing alchemical symbols inside of it, the language had always fascinated him and he felt a rush everytime he drew a new circle, once the circle was finished he placed some of the iron around him inside of it, still searching for his opponent

[RedKayne]

The Silent Warrior (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpkkpD-XALU)

The taste of freedom was bittersweet. It was just a tease until the Acrobat fulfilled his duties in this tournament.

Xomath sniffed the open air once, his nostrils slightly flaring from the unfamiliar scents. It has been a long time since he left his cage, and he nearly forgotten what the outside world was like. Then again, the orc hardly had any memories from his previous life. After spending countless hours in his cold little cell, only memory fragments of a teacher - a mentor - would resurface back into his mind.

Whoever this mysterious battlemaster was, or whatever fate befell upon him, Xomath could only make assumptions until his memories are brought back. For now, he just needed to battle and win, in order to please those that have kept him in captivity. It was a price he was all too willing to pay, and a small amusing smile crept onto the features of his beast-like face. If needed, he will gladly bathe in the blood of his opponent. Xomath, the Acrobat, was ready for war.

He took a step forward and out of the coliseum’s shadows, revealing his monstrous form. The orc stood tall at an intimidating height, nearly six and a half feet. His upper body was completely bare, displaying the large muscles that were completely toned from several years of brutal training. He proudly showed off his physical prowess, for he was a prideful warrior ready to take down any nemesis in his pathway.

It was a little ironic, considering that the Acrobat was a strange title for one that was more animal than humanoid. He licked his black lips in anticipation of combat, and his sharp canines glistened beneath his warped tongue. His golden feline-like eyes took in the sight of his surroundings, drawing in every little detail about this ancient arena.

It was in complete disarray, and the crumbling coliseum looked like it would fall apart any second now. That thought didn’t worry Xomath too much, but it would prove to be a hindrance in this battle if that was truly the case. The ceiling itself appeared to be on the verge of collapsing, especially with the multiple glass panes missing from the structure. The stone bleachers were completely empty, bearing the lost memories of a crowd roaring from the seatings.

Either time itself or a disaster brought this arena into ruins. Regardless of the circumstances, though, Xomath preferred this way. He enjoyed the quietness of solitude, and would rather not deal with the distractions of a large crowd full of mindless and bloodthirsty savages.

His pointy ears perked up slightly, and his animal-like senses picking up a soft - almost indistinguishable sound. Again, Xomath was grateful that there were no distracting noises from the blatant cheering of simpletons. Otherwise, even his own keen senses would never taken notice of the subtle sound of something being etched upon. The ferocious orc sniffed the air several more times, and then slightly wrinkled his nose. There was another unfamiliar scent, one that did not belong in this arena. It carried the strong, unmistakable foul odor of a dwarf.

A quiet growl rumbled in his throat, and his predatory eyes turned towards the direct source of the scent and the sounds. Off in the distance of the arena, there was a pile of rubble, and a small dark figure attempting to crouch behind the debris. Xomath’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowed and his face scowled with distaste. He should have known that the dwarf would have been a coward by attempting to hide from his opponent.

The Alchemist will soon learn that there will be no hiding... no chance of escape in this battle.

Xomath immediately took off with a running start, his bare feet pounding against the packed dirt with each step. The sound of crackling glass echoed in the quiet arena, but the tough and calloused skin of his feet paid no heed to the ceiling fragments scattered across the ground. The orc charged forth with incredible speed, his black-mane wildly blowing backwards. He was like a ferocious lion, ready to pounce upon his prey.

His right hand tightened with tension upon the hilt of his prized weapon: the double-edged lance. The weapon itself was composed of light iron, causing it to be extremely durable. Xomath and the lance were one and the same, and they both thirsted for the blood of the enemy.

Then, in one brief second, Xomath immediately crouched down and tensed the strong muscles of his legs. He then launched high up into the air, leaping across the area and gaining a direct view on his opponent from above. Xomath himself was probably twelve feet in midair at this point, reaching the apex of his launch before descending. His wild manes flown upward from the fall, and his golden eyes quickly observed everything he needed to know at the moment.

His opponent, the dwarf, was covered with a green cloak. The dwarf’s face was adorned with a strange mask, and it wore a large ragged-brown cap. Xomath’s opponent looked very much like a puny and pathetic insect, one that needed to be squashed beneath his feet.

However, the Acrobat also noticed the ritualistic circle next to the dwarf, and the several sigils etched upon the ground. The image of this circle of symbols struck deep down inside of Xomath’s mind. Most of the orc’s memories were lost, but his subconsciousness somehow managed to recognize that if this ritual was completed, his opponent would certainly gain an advantage for some odd reason. The orc will not let that happen.

There was no battle cry, Xomath simply raised his lance above him. The orc doesn’t exert himself with needless noise, for he could reserve such energy with his actual movements and offensive assaults. It was amazing how fast the Acrobat’s mind worked in those few precious seconds and already calculated a plan to battle his opponent and cripple his tactics. The long, spiky axe-edge of Xomath’s lance was not aiming at his opponent, but instead directly at the circle of symbols.

If Xomath struck the circle with a dead-on hit, he would disrupt the ritual by ruining the sigils. His mind could already imagine what would happen if his action succeeded. The halberd blade will strike the packed dirt, and the impact would cause a small explosion of the debris. The dirt will scatter, and the damage will be done to the symbols by disfiguring them, and finally they will no longer perform their original effect. This would leave the Alchemist completely defenseless to the rest of Xomath's violent and relentless assault.

If the dwarf wanted to complete the ritual, though, then he would most likely risk a severe injury by Xomath’s lance. He will be in the direct trajectory of the blade, and attempting to finish the ritual could very well risk an arm being sliced off. The orc’s golden-yellow eyes flared with bloodlust, already envisioning that the blade-edge will bury itself into the Alchemist’s back if he dared risk returning to his beloved circle, and that will give the orc an instant and easy victory.

Then, Xomath will be one step closer to regaining his memories, and the pleasures of freedom.

[ilax silverkin]

Faust heard the thud of feet against the dirt and knew that must be his opponent "Did he find me so quickly?" He thought to himself as he turned towards the noise just in time to see an Orc leaping into the sky "at least he will leave my circle alone, Orcs are known to be dumb" he readied his scalpel as he watched the figure coming closer, if he could knick an artery then he could still kill this beast. Faust was glad he hadn't decided to sacrifice his scalpel to get a sword or something better as he readied himself for the battle he saw the Orc aim at his circle and knew instantly that this wasn't just any normal Orc and this wouldn't be an easy battle.

Faust grabbed the dirt powder from when he carved his circle from the floor and threw it towards the Orcs eyes, at the same time he grabbed a piece of iron and threw it to hit his lance and knock it off aim, he was hoping that he could either blind him briefly so his aim would miss or he would hit the lance ad knock it off course, he had a feeling that he wouldn't get another chance to transmute anything so he needed this one to finish "Hey Ugly!" he shouted trying to get the Orcs attention to distract him from the iron and dirt. While he did this he slightly pierced the top of his thumb so that he could teleport away if the Orc turned on him. He had been ready for a battle, but after seeing his opponent, seeing how fast and agile he was, and taking note of his intelligence, he knew he might have to fight dirty if he wanted to leave this arena alive

[RedKayne]

The Art of Combat (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0A9aEOt4MM)

The Alchemist had limited possibilities to successfully get out of this situation unscathed. However, the orc’s mind still quickly went into work as he envisioned himself in the dwarf’s current predicament, and also attempted to determine a way to stop the his own assault. Xomath ran through several different types of scenarios within his head, and most of them ended up with either a disfigured circle of symbols or a decapitated dwarf head. However, there was one possibility in throwing off the orc’s momentum and preventing his attack from becoming successful.

Xomath’s golden-yellow eyes caught the sight of Faust’s scalpel, and he was attempting to judge the weapon’s threat. In this situation, the dwarf simply needed a good aim and a strong arm. Faust could throw his scalpel directly towards Xomath and force him into a defensive stance. The orc would have to pull back slightly and swing his lance immediately in order to deflect the scalpel and protect himself, and all that movement would cause his momentum to be thrown off in midair. This result may have brought the Alchemist the few precious seconds he needed in order to complete the ritual circle of runes and utilize its powers for the battle.

However, to the Acrobat’s surprise, Faust didn’t bother using the weapon and instead sheathed it. This briefly confused the orc, until he noticed that the dwarf bent down and aggressively grabbed the ground. Faust grabbed a handful of packed dirt with one hand, and a small piece of iron debris with the other. Xomath immediately understood the intentions of his opponent, and honestly found it slightly amusing - almost insulting, in fact. The orc considered the dwarf’s next move to be quite unorthodox, and the beast-like warrior should give his opponent a small amount of respect for being resourceful with his surroundings. However, Xomath would soon prove that the dwarf's shortsighted plan would be practically ineffective.

Xomath was a warrior. He lived for the battle, and believed it to be a glorious honor to participate in the arts of combat. He would never let cheap tricks, such as the upcoming one, hinder his progress.

At the same time Faust threw both the dirt and the piece of iron, Xomath swung down his muscular arms and threw the lance with a great force. The lance descended to the ground rapidly with both the aid of gravity and Xomath’s exertion. Faust’s piece of iron completely missed its target, considering that Faust most likely did not expect his opponent to throw down his weapon in such a barbaric manner. The spiky-edge portion of Xomath’s lance stayed true to its course and aimed directly towards the circle of sigils. It was only a few seconds away from striking the ground, which would then cause a great impact and ruin the circle's powers.

The orc briefly overheard the dwarf calling out to him. However, the insult went right through the beast warrior's head, mainly because the orc was completely concentrated from his own attack. However, even if the orc did managed to process the dwarf’s words, Xomath would have immediately understood his opponent’s intentions to distract him and most likely would have ignored him. Regardless, the next second, Xomath felt the burning, stinging sensations of the packed dirt striking his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut from the reaction of the pain, but only let out a soft growl of annoyance instead of a cry of anguish. The Acrobat’s body went through much worse through his battlemaster’s training, and a minor attack such as this one was nothing compared to the brutal years the orc went through.

Whether or not his lance successfully managed to destroy the circle of runes, Xomath harshly landed on the ground beneath him. A small cloud of dirt exploded around him from the impact as he slightly crouched upon the ground. His legs were tense after absorbing the shock of the impact of the landing, and yet it hardly phased the orc. His powerful body has trained specifically in its incredible acrobatic prowess and thus Xomath could perform the same feat throughout the entire day without injuring himself by tearing a muscle or breaking a bone.

After a few seconds, Xomath straightened up his body and stood tall and proud, which displayed his intimidating height. His eyes were still closed, and the burning sensation continued to pulse through them. However, Xomath could still easily rely upon his other heightened senses for this battle until his eyes recovered. He turned to the sound of his opponent’s breathing, as it wasn’t difficult at all to distinguish its sound. Even without his hearing sense, Xomath could still smell the strong putrid odor of the dwarf and can center upon his position.

The cunning orc also made sure to be aware of his surroundings. His mind took note that the fight hasn’t gone too hectic yet, and the weather outside of the arena hasn’t changed dramatically. Xomath used those thoughts in consideration and assumed that the ancient coliseum wouldn’t collapse upon him just yet. It would be in his best interests to keep these aforementioned thoughts in mind and be wary of the environment. If anything were to shake the structure’s foundations, though, then that would be extremely troublesome. Hopefully, both he and his combatant can avoid such a scenario.

The orc faced his opponent directly, and then the monstrous beast peeled back his black lips to reveal a deadly snarl. He lifted up his right arm, and then made a slitting motion with his throat using his stocky thumb. The Acrobat needed no words to convey his message, and he knew that the Alchemist would be watching his opponent. It would be unwise to take one's eyes off of a ferocious and bloodthirsty orc.

Despite not having his lance at the moment, Xomath was not overly concerned about his own personal safety. First of all, he hardly considered his opponent to be that much of a threat due to his unusual yet ill-effective manner of combat.

Second, the orc didn't particular need his weapon. However, it should be addressed that the Acrobat did have a special union with his weapon, one that is practically like a powerful bond between two comrades who went through hell and back together.

Yet, it wasn't the lance itself that defined the Acrobat. It was the limitless potential of the orc's inner strength that identified him as a fighter.

[Merry]

An ear splitting screech fills the air. The distinctive sound of metal and glass breaking. Twisting and grinding in it's effort to be free from the structure that surrounds you. You immediately look up, above you. Be it out of self preservation or instinct, you see the ceiling breaking away. You have barely the time to register what is happening as you immediately need to move or be crushed. A large section of a main support beam has split off and is hurdling toward the ground. Directly in your path.

The glass will reach the ground first. Large jagged shards, that will shatter into millions of pieces upon hitting the ground. Throwing clouds of glass dust everywhere. Try not to breath.

The twisted metal pieces will come next, with such force as to be embedded into the ground a few feet. Leaving a small mountain of debris between you both. Utterly amazing that you have not be injured by the falling debris.

[ilax silverkin]

Faust quickly looked up as he heard a screeching sound only to see part of the roof falling towards them, diving sideways he grabbed the spear his opponent had thrown just after it had stabbed through his circle, pulling it out the ground he ran his thumb along the sharp edge of the blade cutting himself shallowly as he ran for cover away from the collapsing roof and his opponent.

Faust smiled as the dust was thrown up around him, his opponent had already lost his sight from when he through the mud, now he has lost scent and sound and wouldn't be able to breath properly, he had his gas mask on allowing him to breath perfectly fine as he watched the destruction happening around them, he wondered if the dust contained small shards of the glass.

He looked at his thumb to make sure it was still bleeding keeping hold of the lance, whatever had made this happen he was thankful because it meant he had time while the dust settled to do things he needed to, and it meant that his opponent had lost three senses, maybe Xomath would get hit by the falling glass or metal as he couldn't see properly, or maybe he'd breath in the dust around him, how long can an orc hold their breath for anyway

[RedKayne]

Unstoppable Force (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNVOOQTtHeM)

A screeching sound of metal and glass caused the orc’s head to jerk up. Apparently, what he dreaded the most came into fruition, and at a terribly impeccable time. Since he could not see, Xomath solely relied on his heightened sense of hearing to envision everything that was going on. The ceiling tore apart, and the orc was further alarmed by the creaking sound of a support beam giving away.

He had to make a split-second decision. He could either stand still and hope that the support beam and the rest of the ceiling doesn’t come crashing down upon him, or he could make a blind movement to avoid the falling debris yet still place himself into further danger by both his opponent or other descending objects.

Xomath's survival instincts kicked in and the orc made his decision. He quickly crouched down to tense his leg muscles, and then dug his heels into the dirt. He pushed off the ground with his powerful legs and launched high up into the air, performing a graceful backwards flip. His body moved in a reverse arc, and the trajectory placed him several feet away from his original location. He reached the apex of his arc before falling rapidly back down to the ground, and then the muscles of his legs became rigid to brace himself for impact.

The earth shook violently when Xomath landed upon the ground, but not because of him. Simultaneously, the main support beam crashed down at the location both he and his opponent were at moments before. Xomath straightened his body, his mind hoping that was the end to the chaos in this battle. Of course, his hopes were dashed at the sound of shattering glass shards scattered all over the area, which created several clouds of glass dust.

Quickly, the blind orc immediately reacted by holding his breath. He didn’t need his sight to notice the clouds of glass dust, because he just needed to use common sense to realize the dangerous predicament. The next few seconds seemed endless, as dozens of twisted metal pieces slammed against the floor, and Xomath felt the vibrations of their impacts through his bare feet.

Now that it all finished, Xomath was almost amazed that he was uninjured by the falling debris despite his sight being temporarily stripped away. He quickly pushed away the thoughts because he needed to focus, and his swift mind went into work to adjust his battle tactics for the current situation. He already felt a small burning sensation in his lungs, which were crying for fresh air. The orc used his quiet determination to continue holding his breath, and his brain frantically reviewed a way to overcome the obstacles before him.

He was weaponless. The Acrobat left his lance behind during the chaotic disarray, and there were a few outcomes to his weapon's current location. His lance could simply be waiting for Xomath, ready to be picked up by its master and wielded for epic combat once more. The orc can deduct the general location of his weapon's placement, but he still had to consider the other possibilities. During the pandemonium, his opponent - the Alchemist - could have easily grabbed the lance since it literally landed right next to dwarf. The thought almost made Xomath growl in disgust, because he had no tolerance for thieves, adversaries with no honor. Then, another likely outcome was that the lance was unfortunately buried beneath all of the rubble and thus unreachable.

For now, Xomath could only consider one of the latter two options. He couldn’t waste time trying to find his lance, because he needed to kill his foe right away. At this very moment, the Alchemist could be forming another circle of runes and attempt to turn the tides of battle. Allowing the Alchemist to finish a ritual would be a big mistake on the Acrobat's part, and he wouldn't let that happen.

Xomath assessed the situation, and noted all of the disadvantages he had. He couldn’t see because the mud still covered his eyes. He couldn’t hear properly either, because the ceiling was still groaning from the lack of support of its structure, and also several echoes were cascading around the ancient arena due to the earlier impacts. There was one sense left he could use to discover the location of his opponent, smell.

It was a huge risk, though. If Xomath breathed in the glass dust, it could cause dangerous long-term effects to his lungs. Some of the dust may even be capable of tearing his throat and lungs, and it may even lead to a painful death... suffocation of his own blood. His opponent was fortunate to be adorned with a toxic mask, for he didn’t have to deal with such hindrances in this battle.

Yet, if the Acrobat did nothing, then he would surely die anyways. The Alchemist will complete the ritual, and use its magical abilities to slay the orc. However, Xomath was a fighter, through and through. He will do everything in his power to defeat the Alchemist, no matter what the risks.

Slowly, the orc began to inhale through his nostrils. Fortunately, his thick nostril hairs would do an impressive job of blocking out most of the glass dust. Maybe a few tiny bits would manage to wade through the orc's nose and head into his airway, but they were hardly noticeable and weren't enough to deter the orc. His heart slowed down quite a bit, along with his breathing, as he was fully concentrating on catching his opponent’s scent. Once he gained a full breath of air, he held it in and hoped to detect the scent of his opponent.

Unfortunately, the dust clouds did their best to muffle the foul odor of the dwarf. So, this would be more of a challenge than previously...

Wait... there was another unusual smell instead. It was extremely familiar... intense and strong... but he couldn’t quite pinpoint the scent yet. Xomath would need to risk taking another breath in order to center upon the location of this oddity. He exhaled slowly through his mouth, preparing himself as he then took in another breath of air through his nostrils. This time, Xomath felt a small trickle of liquid at the back of his throat. He felt no pain, but could only assume that some of the glass dust he breathed in managed to bury themselves into the back of his throat. There was the familiar taste of blood at the end of his warped tongue, and so...

That was the smell!

The orc’s breathing stopped in realization, and his body stiffened with quiet excitement. He could smell blood. Fresh, oozing blood. One of the strongest known smells to keen predators. The orc could almost envision a small trail of red mist leading from his nostrils and heading directly towards his opponent. Apparently, the dwarf must have a small wound - most likely because he cut himself in order to perform one of his rituals.

This would be the Alchemist’s downfall, for the dwarf should never underestimate an orc’s powerful sense of smell.

There was no thinking at all, only a reaction. Xomath immediately rushed towards the central location of the blood scent, practically like a shark charging towards its new-found prey. The orc continued to hold his breath for the next few seconds, his lungs feeling as if they were on the verge of bursting. The next second, the orc pushed off from the ground and used his athletic body to launch himself high in the air once more.

Now that he was several feet up and above the clouds of glass dust, Xomath breathed in the fresh air that was free of any dangerous substances. It was practically like a gift from the heavens, as the orc savored the pleasurable feeling of his lungs expanding from delight. There was still a small trickle of blood at the back of his throat, but Xomath could ignore that issue until after the battle.

Meanwhile, his hands were vigorously rubbing his eyes. He was attempting to wipe away the mud, so that he could recover his sense of sight once more. Most of the dried mud brushed away from his grubby hands, but his vision was still blurry and he had to blink away the rest of the dirt before he could properly see again.

Xomath fell forward to the ground, and once again held his breath as he neared the clouds of glass dust once more. His legs smoothly landed on the ground with a small thud, and the orc knelt upon the dirt floor. His head moved up and face his opponent directly, whom was only a few minor feet away from the orc. Fortunately, the Acrobat managed to avoid the small pile of debris that previously separated both him and Faust, and now nothing was in their way for this battle.

The Acrobat stood up straight and tall, flexing his shoulders by rotating them clockwise. He was preparing himself for close-combat using his bare fists, which should be enough to pulverize the puny insect known as the dwarf. Once again, Xomath wasn’t impressed that his adversary made another shortsighted move and cut himself. Apparently, the Alchemist never considered the flaw in his plan, which unfortunately revealed his present location through the strong odor of blood.

The orc’s golden feline eyes were still trying to blink away the remaining dirt, mainly because his vision was still quite blurry. Xomath will have to focus on using his sense of hearing for now, considering that the previous noises of the coliseum no longer hampered his keen sense of sound. The orc’s facial expression turned into that of a snarl, for his warrior spirit craved to tear apart his opponent limb from bloody limb. He still held onto his breath despite his lungs once again on the verge of crying out in pain. Once his opponent would make the slightest movement, though, Xomath will have to resort to breathing again. It wouldn't be wise to hold one's breath while participating in an exhilarating close-quartered fight.

The Acrobat raised both of his arms, tightening his fists in readiness. He widened his stance, sliding one leg further away from the other and keeping his balance. The brutal orc stood before the Alchemist, towering over his opponent with his muscular, dark-skinned body.

Faust should have known from before, there would be no hiding in this battle. It was time to settle business between them. Right here, and right now.

[ilax silverkin]

Looking around after the sound of falling debris had stopped Faust saw a figure in the dust, had the orc found him already, he looked around trying to figure out how the orc had found him when he saw his thumb, had he followed the scent of his blood? This gave Faust an idea, picking up a fist sized stone he wiped his blood onto it before throwing it towards the left of the figure it was now he remembered that he had hold of the lance, did the orc know he had it? If not he wouldn't expect the dwarf to have the attacking reach the lance provided, moving closer slowly until he was within range to attack with the lance he threw his scalpel towards th centre of his hoping for a hit as it was a big target before quickly swiping the lance towards his legs, if the orc jumped up the scalpel would still hit, if he ducked then the lance would hit, and the scalpel would hit if he moved forward too, the dwarf was finally feeling good about the position he was in

[RedKayne]

A Philosophy Worth Fighting For (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXuYu6SVPew)

It may have been an odd sight to see Xomath standing in front of his opponent and completely confident in himself, unafraid despite the overwhelming odds against him. Many others in his position would not feel the same, especially if they were placed in a battle with severe disadvantages. His eyesight was still adjusting due to the specks of mud coating his eyes, and each breath felt more deadly than the last because of the glass dust in the air. He held no weapon, and he was completely defenseless to any of his opponent’s attacks. Yet, the silent warrior stood tall, proud and clearly ready for more action in this battle.

The orc held no memories of his former life, and he could not remember several of his past key battles. Instead, if the Acrobat had to choose a philosophy to follow right now, it would be staying true and dedicated to your goal and never lose sight of it. It was the Acrobat’s goal to win this battle, defeat the future adversaries of this tournament, and reclaim his lost memories. He would continue striving towards that goal no matter what, which explains his current calm and cool demeanor in this detrimental situation.

The Acrobat’s life wasn’t about how hard he could smash an enemy, or how many foes he can defeat. No, his life carried much more meaning than that. His life was about how hard you could get hit, and keep pushing forward. The orc’s body carried many scars and blemishes to prove this philosophy, and the orc stood against everything that life could throw at him. No matter how many times he would fall in this tournament, and whether or not he is continuously knocked to the ground, Xomath will keep pushing forward and remain focused upon pursuing his goal. No matter how many obstacles or opponents are placed before him, the Acrobat will demolish every single one of them.

The silent warrior took another step forward towards the Alchemist, slowly approaching without any fear or caution. He only slightly faltered in his steps when he caught the same blood scent separating, almost as if the original person split into two different entities. Then, the second scent flew away rapidly, and the orc’s head jerked towards that direction. It greatly confused the orc, and he couldn’t understand how there could be two Alchemists currently on the battlefield, and how the second one achieved such incredible speed. Yet, Xomath did take note that the second scent was relatively weak, and the original scent still stood in the exact same location. The smell of fresh, oozing blood remained as powerful as ever in front of the orc.

Xomath’s pointy ears perked up, and the orc realized that Faust attempted to fool him. The sound of a rock falling on to the ground echoed in the relatively quiet arena, and the orc turned to face his opponent directly once more. Once again, his opponent proved to be a dirty and dishonorable fighter, and Xomath was disgusted that the Alchemist resorted to such trickery for this battle. The orc sealed the dwarf’s fate, because Xomath will make Faust pay with his life.

The burning in his lungs and the stinging pain of his eyes could not outweigh the orc’s determination to slay his opponent, and then bathe in the blood of his fresh corpse. Xomath took another step forward, and finally exhaled the large breath he held onto for so long. The glass dust of the arena still covered the entire environment, and Xomath was at risk of severe internal injury if he continued to breathe in the dangerous substance. He had to play this battle in a clever manner, and thus he formed a plan to overcome the glass dust obstacle.

The orc’s golden-feline eyes continued blinking rapidly, attempting to rid of the last specks of mud blurring his vision. He could barely see the small figure of his opponent slowly approaching, as if the dwarf attempted to move silently and go unnoticed. The orc perceived that Faust apparently carried what appeared to be two separate line-shaped silhouettes. There was a smaller figure in his one hand, and the orc deducted that it was the dwarf's scalpel. The other weapon's figure, however, was more difficult to discern. However, the orc’s fast mind quickly came to a conclusion and realized the dwarf did indeed stole the orc’s lance. Both of Xomath’s fists tightly greatly with tension, because the orc’s anger and hatred towards his pathetic opponent was about to unleash in a dynamic explosion.

At the last second, the orc’s vision finally cleared and his beast-like eyes narrowed at the rapidly approaching scalpel. The small flying blade aimed directly at the center of his torso, intending to quickly end his life with a severe injury. The Alchemist wasted no time with his next attack, and swung the stolen lance towards the Acrobat’s long legs. All of this information swiftly registered within the orc’s mind, and his cunning brain processed the possibilities of countering these attacks.

The Acrobat could attempt another one of his signature moves and jump out of the way of the incoming lance attack and move towards safety. However, it would risk receiving a debilitating injury because the scalpel would still strike near the core of his body. The orc could duck out of the way of the scalpel, yet his own lance would land a critical laceration towards his upper body. In fact, there was a strong chance he could be decapitated by his own weapon. There was another possibility to move to the side and avoid the scalpel’s attack, and attempt to move out of the lance’s trajectory. However, even Xomath had to admit the cleverness of his opponent, and the Alchemist could very well be predicting this movement and may adjust the course of his attack to land a successful hit upon the orc.

The black lips of the orc curled up and formed a small smile, because he slightly enjoyed the challenging prospect of discovering a way to dodge from this two-pronged attack. The orc came to a solid conclusion: there was no way to dodge these attacks successfully. In fact, he will meet his opponent head-on. Even in this moment, the orc followed his own warrior code and philosophy; the one about receiving a hit and keep moving forward, no matter what.

Keep pushing forward.

In one swift movement, the orc moved one bare foot forward a few inches against the dirt while backing up the other one. He shifted his weight forward, while keeping his arms to the side and his back straight. His body seemed to blur as he lowered himself to the ground while the elastic muscles of his hips, quads, and hamstrings smoothly stretched out. The metal guards protecting his loins then rested nicely against the ground, and the bottoms of his legs laid upon the dirt floor. The orc kept his hips squared and his toes pointed straight up, until he finally performed a successful split.

The scalpel flew directly above his head, practically a centimeter away. The blade brushed against the top of his black mane, slicing away a few strands of hair before flying away and descending towards the ground. The scalpel landed several feet behind the two fighters, and basically unreachable at the current moment by either of them. So, the orc managed to successfully dodge the first blade, and now he had to deal with his own lance.

A thin trail of black blood slowly oozed out of the orc’s lips, which seeped down to his chin. Apparently, the swift movement of performing a leg split caused the orc to breathe rapidly which allowed the glass dust in the air to damage his throat even further. The orc ignored the metallic taste of his own blood, and raised up his right hand in the air.

A splash of black blood cascaded against the ground, and there was the morbid sound of the orc’s lance burying into his own flesh. Yet, the orc’s golden eyes stared directly towards his opponent, and his irises brimmed with determination. The orc raised up his right hand, and directly positioned it in the way of the incoming lance. At the exact moment of contact, the orc’s brutish hand grabbed onto the blade with incredible strength and halted its progress. The halberd-blade still sliced cleanly into the orc’s palm, and his right arm exploded with incredible pain. It hardly phased the orc, because his body received even more terrible beatings from his battlemaster, and he still had the scars to prove that. The weapon shook violently, because the strengths of both the orc and the dwarf struggled against each other, but it seemed that the orc's physical prowess far outweighed his opponent due to Xomath's countless years of brutal and hellish training. At this point, the lance would not be making progress of cutting deeper into the orc's palm anytime soon.

The pain would not stop Xomath, and it will not hinder his victory. He already pushed himself incredibly hard in this battle, and he will not stop now. The orc snarled, and his free hand thrust towards his opponent like a venomous snake striking its prey. The exploding movement of the thrusting hand directly correlated to the orc’s pent up anger and hatred towards his dishonorable opponent, and he finally unleashed these negative emotions to increase the speed of this charge. The hand was open and outstretched, because its intention was not to strike and damage the dwarf. No, instead, the orc intended to rip off the Alchemist’s toxic mask from his ugly face.

If the orc could use the gas mask on his own face, then it would be a very welcomed benefit to this battle. If not, the orc would smash the mask and destroy it. This would even out the playing field of the battle because the dwarf would have to deal with the difficulties of breathing in the clouds of glass dust floating in the air.

Then, we shall all see the true identity of the low-life swine known as Faust, the Alchemist.

[ilax silverkin]

Faust watched in shock as his opponent dropped down and allowed the lance to stab into his hand, struggling to get the lance back from his opponents grip he saw the acrobat reach forward with his free hand, was he going to try and rip off his head? Wait...no Faust had the advantage of his mask which was allowing him to breath with the deadly dust that surrounded them, was the Orc smart enough to go for the mask? He had already seen the orc go for his circle rather than attack him so maybe this Orc was different..somehow smarter than the other orcs he'd faced before. Faust leaned back to try and get out of the Orcs reach taking a deep breath in cased his opponent still managed to grab onto the mask, he heard something clank inside his jacket and reached inside with his free hand to find his glass vials for his potions, hoping that maybe he could either make the Orc sacrifice his grip on the lance so he could attack again or block it with his other hand so he stopped reaching for his mask he threw them as hard and fast as he could at the Orcs faces

[RedKayne]

The Beginning of the End (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hG-N8AWoL54)

"Xomath!"

His battlemaster's voice echoed inside of his head, speaking loudly and clearly. The memories of a forgotten mentor, an integral person of the orc's life, constantly reminded the Acrobat of his current goal. He needed to regain his memories, and discover the truth of his past, and the fate of his teacher. These memories were a part of Xomath, and someone decided to steal a critical piece of his inner soul. Beforehand, he sat inside of a cold cell for countless hours, trapped in a mysterious dungeon that contained the rest of the fighters. In those hours, Xomath sat cross-legged and practically meditated, with nothing but silence and his own thoughts as company within that tiny room.

Faint whispers of his old mentor crept into the back of his mind, always teasing about the forgotten life. Xomath could not discriminate whether or not he respected his old mentor, or absolutely hated every fiber of his being. Perhaps this mentor saved his life at one point, and brought the young orc under his tutelage? Perhaps his mentor slaughtered his beloved parents, and then forced the young orc into slavery and raised him like a gladiator?

The only clues of the orc's past life were the several scars covering his body, which has gone through a world of unspeakable and painful training.

Therefore, the Acrobat must continue to fight on, no matter what the obstacles are. He will not falter in his path, no matter how powerful his enemies are. He will keep pushing forward, and defeat every single one of his adversaries using his pure might. He had to discover the meaning behind all of this this, and pave the way of his future lift by utilizing the foundation of his former one.

It was time to finish this.

Xomath retracted his thrusting arm quickly, pulling away from the face of the Alchemist. Instead, he raised up his arm and bent it, allowing his large forearm to protect his face. Several vials of glass shattered against his tough skin, and small glass shards scattered everywhere. Most of these glass shards embedded themselves into the Acrobat's limb, and black blood oozed out of several small flesh wounds. Some of the glass shards flew by and scraped the sides of Xomath's face, leaving behind deep gashes around his cheeks. Fortunately, none of the glass shards hit any critical areas, such as his eyes.

He wasted no more time.

Now that the glass vials were dealt with, Xomath's free arm shot like a viper and grabbed the top half of his lance. With incredible strength, Xomath ripped his lance free from the Alchemist's hands. The dwarf's physical strength was no match for a warrior that trained in the arts of physical combat throughout his entire life.

The Acrobat then adjusted his injured hand, pulling away his bloodied one from the metal edge and moving it to the lower half of the hilt. Xomath fought back the screaming pain in his right arm by gritting his teeth together. He held his breath for one final motion. The clouds of glass dust were finally settling down to the ground now, and thus their harmful effects weren't as debilitating as they were previously. Despite this, he would most likely suffer long-term effects from breathing in the glass dust, unless something can be done to repair the damage in his throat and lungs.

He banished those thoughts away, and focused upon the battle at hand. In a fluid motion, he straightened his body from the split position, and now stood upon the ground in a wide battle stance. His torso corked counterclockwise, building the power of his next attack by tightening his muscles. His pushed his front foot forward, before swinging his body rapidly in a clockwise motion. During the course of this action, the orc raised up his front foot and then slammed it down against the packed dirt during the halfway point. This gave the orc more momentum for the next few precious seconds to finish off the insect.

Xomath was like a terrifying whirlwind of fury, spinning around completely and then swinging his lance in an upward-diagonal motion. His body launched forward, closing any distance that his opponent would attempt to make. Silently, the orc roared within his mind as his put all of his might in this last attack. The halberd-edge of the lance approached his target's neck, intending to decapitate him in one smooth and clean motion.

This battle was over.

[Merry]

Thank you for a wonderful battle - well fought by both.

Moving on for this contest will be the character of Xomath, written by RedKayne


ilax silverkin
Writing Style: 6/9
-Ideas: 2/3
-Flow: 2/3
-Conventions: 2/3

Effectiveness of Combat: 8/9
-Character Consistency: 3/3
-Ingenuity: 2/3
-Interaction: 3/3

Control of the Field: 8/9
-Environmental Awareness: 3/3
-Strategic Awareness: 3/3
-Control of the Fight: 2/3

Total: 22

RedKayne
Writing Style: 8/9
-Ideas: 3/3
-Flow: 3/3
-Conventions: 2/3

Effectiveness of Combat: 9/9
-Character Consistency: 3/3
-Ingenuity: 3/3
-Interaction: 3/3

Control of the Field: 8/9
-Environmental Awareness: 3/3
-Strategic Awareness: 3/3
-Control of the Fight: 2/3

total: 25