Round 1: Troubadour (Nathalia) VS. Animator (Pied Piper) - Judge G

[G]

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At first, all you can see around you is a haze of white light, so bright it blinds you to all else. As it diminishes, it separates into small specks - you realise they are snowflakes as they settle at your feet, creating a soft, powdery surface on the ground. Before you is a picturesque scene - a cozy brick cabin, it's roof lined with a thick layer of snow and its' windows lit from within with a warm, yellow light, though you cannot make out the room inside, and if you try to enter the wooden door you will find it securely barred and impenetrable. The doors and windows are ringed with multi-coloured, flashing lights on strings, and a stack of neatly chopped firewood rests against the left wall, a small axe resting beside it.

To one side of the house stands a small snowman, complete with red woolen scarf, black top hat, stick arms and a carrot nose. Beside him, a pile of perfectly rolled snowballs have been carefully placed. Pine trees are gathered in two groups of three and four on either side the house, with space enough to step between them to the other side - beyond the trees, you see a figure, each of you getting a first glimpse of your opponent.

But something seems... off, about this cozy scene. Aside from it's miniature size (even the shorter of the two battlers could easily reach up to touch the chimney of the house) everything is too carefully placed, too perfect... Upon closer insepection, you realise the trees are manufactured, and not even securely rooted in the ground, merely placed there on stands that are concealed by the thin layer of powdery snow. There is no sun in the sky... or even a sky, for that matter. A dome of glass encases the scene, allowing you to move some ten feet in any direction, but no more. What is outside the glass, you do not know - the blinding white light remains all around. The only way to escape from this tiny world is to fight.

(At the beginning of the third round, a second GM post will be made.)

-

Fight well, you have 5 posts per person and 72 hours to respond between each post.
By the flick of an Australian 5 cent piece, the first to post will be Breggo13

[Breggo13]

White powdery snow seemed to be everywhere, clinging to her long eyelashes and pleasantly chilling her skin, making her smile as the small snow bites tingled in the rather small arena. From where she stood, her tail held up in attention, she could see the dome rise into the air, its diameter seemingly 20 feet across, enough to toss a small dwarf. Behind the trees, she caught movement, a silhouette of some creature, hunched and seemingly half her size but the softly falling snowflakes blurred the details.

Slowly, she looked around, observing the miniature setting around her, shivering slightly. Her armor, highlighting her figure and complementing her complexion did little to keep the bitter cold out, the green fitted pants a poor protection from the cold. Nathalia knew what snow was – and she knew that while it inspired her, she didn’t like it. Or, if she did, she wouldn’t be feeling so miserable, goosebumps covering her arms in a way that made her hiss in frustration. How could she ever look appealing now?

Huffing and watching her breath escape as a small white cloud, the Tiefling checked her hair pins, three in all, ancient, beautiful…and deadly. Feeling less exposed with them hidden in easily reachable places, she felt a familiar weight sling from her back, an oaken lyre pulling the strap digging into her shoulder. Moving the instrument before her into a natural position, Nathalia’s fingers ran against the four strings, sending four pure sounds echoing around the dome, bouncing and magnifying before being absorbed and slowly fading into nothingness, pulling at the musician’s heart. Sound should never be contained, it is the language of the soul, personal expression, freedom. And that is what she earned for – freedom. She didn’t want to go back to the single cage she remembered and she absolutely would not make this fake fairytale another confinement. So, it was time to bust out of the prison.

Turning towards her opponent and her full lips curling up into a smile, she started towards him in a slow manner, each motion seductive and full of feline grace, effortless, flowing one into the other. Her tail wagged slightly back and forth as her grey eyes focused in on the hunched form, each step allowing her to see it more clearly, a green goblin. Stalking casually beside the snowman, her fingers aimlessly plucking at the lyre’s strings, she blinked once slowly, long eyelashes flickering like butterflies in the wind.

“Hello there handsome,” she purred, her voice unmistakable seduction but her eyes observed each motion, each breathe the creature took, his small chest rising and falling. “What say you that we leave this prison cell? For I refuse to go back to that hell. Escape is all I dream of now, so erase that scowl off your brow. Forever leave, deny that which they call a game, they’re using us for a show of pain.”

[The Imposter]

It was in the twinkling of an eye the goblin found himself in the comedic arena. His sudden arrival displacing the coalescence of white flurries that seemingly never dissipated. His obtuse nose jutting out and piercing the blanket of flakes, however his eyes remained unblinking. Those eyes reflected only one thing, anger. His blood boiled against the audacity of being tossed to and from one cage to this one by some omniscient beings. He viewed his surroundings with his orbs of yellow and orange, becoming quickly distasteful of the scene that laid itself before him. To the Pied Paper this was nothing more than another prison, dressed in some sense of happier times. The manufactured stage boasted a false sense of joy. A talon hand clenched and the creature realized he was holding something, the feeling familiar, warming, soothing. The flute: a companion, a steadfast trinket, his most prized possession glistened in the brightness of the dome. A low growl emanated from his bowels before the smaller fighter trilled his lips wildly.

His unwavering gaze locked onto the approaching creature. Her accentuated movements did little for the older goblin, and as she spoke he couldn’t help but shake his head wildly in opposition to the rhyming speech. She thinks she can control me?! Manipulate me?! Fool me in her false sense of rebellion. She’s nothing but a devil, seed of demons. KEEE KEEE KEEE! Lifting his hand the Pied Piper twirled his magical instrument and pointed it at the tiefling and her frosty companion.

“Shut your rhyming mouth! I...I know what you are trying to do! Fool the piper into helping and then leaving him...leaving him to take all the pain. Scowl and dreams, don’t dress up your foul...foul schemes!”

His crooked maw snapped at the troubadour, the words vaguely reminiscent, familiar but foreign still. The empty spot where the past once was echoed like his high pitched voice in the contained environment, he tried to reach for it but was unable to grasp it. In the stillness of the snow ambient sounds of his opponents playing it pushed through. A note more chilling than the arena his bare feet stood in. It repeated itself over and over again in the brief moment it took for him to bring the flute up to his mouth. With one full breath he exhaled and began to play, some of the notes came out sour and stale others crisp and vibrant. His song clashed against his opponents trivial playing, this was no time to dally about. One of them would fall and move on, getting ever closer to the very hands that thought they could try and control them all, and once the Pied Piper got close enough they would rue the day that tried to control him!

[Breggo13]

“Fowl schemes? Oh please, if that is how it seems,” Natalia shrugged before the sounds of his flute started to fill the small space, shrieking and much viler than she could have thought such an instrument to be. “Someone must have stepped on your ears, my friend, with so many notes unclear that I recommend, you to your cell return and try to mend, the knowledge of the song that possession you pretend.”

She tilted her head, her fingers slowly moving as she walked closer to the house to observe it, her lute’s song soothing and powerful although she earned for something more. Her own playing seemed rusty and as she approached the picturesque house, her body moving in the same rhythm as her song, she found herself playing a scale over and over again, the same seven notes up and down. What was this called again? She used to know everything when it came to her art but now. Turning to the goblin, a mocking gleam in her eyes, she wanted to ask but the second each note hit the Sol scale, she could feel something different resonate through the air.

Fingering the string and observing the lyre, she found that each string easily detached from the wooden base, made of something else, something that wasn’t horsehair at all. In the glare of the snow, Natalia could almost say that they glowed. Frowning and deciding to figure out the mystery later, she took a moment to stretch, her eyes observing him and a smirk on her lips.

“Although you don’t seem to get along, how bout I will play you a song? A tale of old and tale so pure, of Mala’s Might, his blood, strength and strange allure,” Natalia leaned against the house, her finger freezing for a second before with might, loud and strong, she started the song, her voice joining in perfect unison with the strings, rising to the top of the dome and enveloping the small surroundings in resonating echoes as the story flowed, unbound, uncontended, unbelievable.

[The Imposter]

The sounds clashed and swirled, neither overcoming the other nor yet finding a melding melody together. The Piper's rusty tune seeped into his surroundings, probing for something to use. Its hidden mission guised by his stalking stare, those terrible eyes remained on the troubadour as she took her place against the miniature home and spoke to him yet again in her long-winded rhymes. Her playing strengthened as she began to sing of someone named Mala. The name meant nothing to the animator, nor his deeds and strength. The tune however, became overbearing to the goblin quickly and swallowed his song through verses and choruses. Yet, the animator had found his newest tool to control, even in the twang of his opponent's lyre. The small axe resting against the stacked lumber on the left wall began to quiver gently. Its hollow shell now filled with the flute's resurrection theme. The weapon began to lift itself from the ground carried on the silent hymn that played from the Piper, almost swaying to the music that filled the dome.

The small creature shook his head violently as Nathalia's retelling of the Barbarian of legend crashed into his mind. Images sprung forth from her words of accolades so distant and yet magnificent. Try as he might he couldn’t resist the alluring tune. The petit musician stumbled backwards slightly before fixing his gaze on his enemy once more. She seemed to move slightly, as his eyes trembled and remained unfocused. Sorcerer's songs, messing with my mind! How DARE she?! I’ll show her! I’ll chop her up into bits and BITS AND BITS!!! With a shriek the monster moved his flute like a conductor’s wand guiding the floating axe. His tattered cloak danced wildly to his anger and his enemy’s song as he ordered his weapon to strike out. With a quick twist the axe began to twirl in the air gaining momentum as it flew towards the tiefling treble player. The weapon seemed to pick up velocity as it neared its mark, the soured scorn of the Pied Piper fueling it to sink deeply into the stomach of the animator’s adversary.


The slighted creature began to grin devilishly as he began to think of his next move. It was time to show this half-breed that despite present circumstances the Pied Piper was the one in control.

[Breggo13]

Natalia played and sang, her body swaying ever so slightly with the melody, her breathing matching the song as perfectly as could be, each fiber in her body attuning itself to the soft lull of the song that for some reason poured out of her unbidden. She was one with it, the legends and her being, everything t tune and….

THACK!!! The axe ended up impaling itself into the soft wood of her lyre, the sharp metal sinking into the brown instrument, making Natalia hiss in a feline manner, her grey eyes snapping up to look at the small goblin before her, teeth exposed as the last note faded into the winter wonderland.

“I never forgive and I never forget,” Natalia smiled sweetly though her eyes blazed with a fire as she calculated her next move, her fingers quietly trying to undo the second string off the instrument, the Sol one, cold anger moving her forward. “Take a nap, don’t get too ahead.” With that, she lashed out with that string, using it as though it was a light whip, leaping closer to the flute player in one go.

[The Imposter]

The goblin crackled as the axe sank into his enemy’s instrument, her flaming reaction obvious to him. It wasn't quite what the Piper had wanted to do but her sudden flash of anger was a suffice response. Her movements were keen and swift as she lunged out and lashed her string. As it grazed the cheek of the small creature he hissed and squealed willing his axe to come towards him. The obedient object dislodged itself from the lyre and spun back to its master's aid. The small gash quickly began to let loose its dark crimson liquid which followed the wrinkles and curves to the thin lips of the small musician. Wounded pride made his heart beat faster, anger and disbelief swirled in his stomach. His odd orbs of yellow and orange rested on the closer creature focusing and ready to respond, and then he noticed it. Something he hadn't seen before, behind his fellow competitor a small light flickered, then another, and another. The danced and mocked a radiant cascade of rainbow colours. The cockiness of the Pied Piper had twisted to chagrin and that feeling alone was enough for his brow to furrow and his jaw jut forward and now the Gods' taunted him with these small glass trinkets. Oh, how they jested back and forth mocking him. His tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth, any moisture boiled by his wrath for the twinkling lights. Licking the small dripping stream away his orange eyes reflected a pain far beyond the slight throb on his face. His mouth now wet the piper barked out:

"You?! YOU?! YOOOOUU!? How dare you! You insufferable demon bard, spoony, full of ridiculous rhyme, you think your petty strings will stop me?! I will dance on your corpse, then make your bones wiggle their way out of your skin and jig on their own!!! And you, the ones who ssssspectate, you shall know who I am, and why I should be feared!"

The small creatures breathing became erratic, letting himself be carried by his hurting hubris. The irony of his own absence of memory and his challenge to those in power went over his head. Simple thoughts no longer held any root in his mind, a steadfast desire for what he lacked became all consuming. Conducting his axe it flew towards his enemy only to spin wildly passed now en route to its true target: the miniature house and the tiny objects that flashed and danced in a different melody altogether than what had echoed forth in the dome.

Roaring the goblin watched as the spinning axe flew along the trim of the roof shattering a row of the stupid taunting lights.

[G]

Before the combatants had time to prepare themselves, the serenity of the scene was suddenly rocked. The ground began to shake beneath their feet, and both were thrown off balance as the rocking became violent, sending flurries of the powdery snow into the air all around them. For a moment, it blotted out everything in a barricade of whirling white. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped. Had it been an earthquake, or something more sinister? Though the ground had settled, the snow continued to whirl, hindering both vision and movement in the globe.

(For the next round, vision will be greatly impaired by the whirling snow. On the fifth round, the powder will begin to slow and settle, until the air will be tranquil once more.)

[Breggo13]

When the little impish creature had sent its axe spinning wildly up into the rather close glass roof of the dome, Natalia instinctly crouched down, hugging the lyre close to her and covering her head with her hand as small shards burst everywhere, small particles impaling themselves in her slightly exposed mocha skin. Burning against the chill, she wanted to cry, her whimper resembling a long forgotten song, one some might call seductive and others unexplainable. However, before she could open her eyes, the ground shook, making her loose her balance and fall to the ground, almost skid against it in the cold, bitter snow.

As the shaking ended, she slowly moved her tail, simply trying to breathe and even out her heartbeat, racing faster than she thought could be possible, a beat is two-time of a waltz, slightly choppy and anything but elegant. Inhaling was hard for each time her body reached out for air, she breathed in cold, white shards. Raising her nose from the ground, she managed a less blocked inhale, the snow seeming to still be whiling. Slowly opening her eyes, she was able to confirm that the snow was in fact still whirling around with such violence that the musician could barely make out the dark shape of her injured lyre beside her.

Her heart wanted to weep, her soul to claim revenge and her instinct to murder as she looked upon the instrument missing a string and the once perfect wood that sang more beautifully than anything she could have imagined bearing a deep scar and exposing the hollowness within. Natalia never loved anything or anyone as much as she loved her lyre, the companion of her life and the one she shared her laughter, tears and blood with. It was a part of her - she wasn't sure how she knew it but she felt it. And now, it lay there, silent and bleeding, empty of life and it killed her. Slowly reaching for it, she grabbed the neck, dragging it closer.

She didn't know where the little monster was - for after injuring the one thing she held dear, who else was he - or if he was still there, the crazy blizzard making her own breathing seem barely more than a phantom illusion. But she most certainly did not want to be still on the ground if he came looking for her. Her body refused to move, each small movement fainful as she got her limbs, chilled to the bone, to move her up onto her knees, her tail limp, swinging the instrument behind her like a shield before pausing and pulling out her second dagger clip, the first being lost in the sudden storm along with the Sol string. Holding it in her right hand, she slowly pulled herself up.

Cold, numbing and biting at once, hit her face making Natalia slightly dizzy. Even so, she forced herself to move, one step at a time to the left, straigning her senses to understand her situation but it was hard. She didn't realize where she was until she collided with the small house nose first, thrown back with a small oompth to land on her ass. Biting her lip and rubbing the throwbing part of her body through soaked pants, she inched forward until her outstretched hands felt the wall of the building, the warmth surprising and pleasant for her numb skin. Half feeling, half seeing the edge, she slowly hoisted herself up onto the roof, lying flat and still, grey eyes trying to see something through the white.

[The Imposter]

The Pied Piper had little time to celebrate his triumph over the shiny lights as the whole battlefield began to rattle and shake. The suddenness of the movements sent the petite creature face first into the snow covered ground beneath him. His amber orbs peeked out from his cap and tried to peer through the now whirlwind of white flakes. His body ached and felt heavier now, a strange sense of exhaustion settling over his simmering rage. The feeling mixed with his hinder vision in the whiteout creating a vacuum that began to pull away his ambition and desire, out from the pit of his stomach and into the artificial blizzard it dissipated.


The creature’s elongated fingers rifled through the cold fluff that riddled the ground, painstakingly searching for his flute. Instinctively the moved until they were able to wrap around its sleek form once more. The momentary loss of his precious instrument however had been enough for it’s musically persuasion to give way, dropping the axe from where it floated. The distant thud was dull and seemed to the worn out goblin further away than it really was, however it was enough to coax the creature to begin to hull himself up from the snow.


His tattered cloak offered little resistance to the whipping wind in the moments it lasted. The piper’s back sat hunched as his knees disobeyed his command to rise up from the snow covered floor; the creature rocked and reeled in the snowy facade within the globe. As the swirling flakes continued the elder fighter found his footing and managed to get to his feet. Dragging each step he moved towards where he remembered the closest tree was. One hand extended wishing to grasp and find the small trunk. Finding it he leaned against it heavily, bracing his tired form against it. Little relief was had, as his skin reacted to the chill, goose bumps forming all up his arms. Between the cold, impaired vision, and otherworldly sense of weariness the small musician felt control slipping from his grasp.


It was in moments like this however the frustration rose again. I refuse! I REFUSE! I won’t let what I have be stripped from me, taken further from my grasp! I won't be left destitute and subject to another ever again! The boiling frustration fueled and heated the internal fire that pushed the animator to force action. The blue goblin lifted the flute to his mouth once more and twisted his body to lean against the synthetic tree. The notes pierced through the muted atmosphere almost screeching. Vigorously the Piper played a new song, one that would bring his first trial to a climatic end.

[Breggo13]

Nathalia slowly watched, all her senses extending and straining, a silent fortissimo that seemed to echo only to herself. She no longer could feel her limbs, not easily, the cold snow under her making her frozen and as she raised her hand to lightly breath the barely warm air of her lungs on it, she could see it paler than she ever thought would be possible and the warmth was lost in nothingness. For once, she wondered if she should have forgone her pride and donned clothes much more forgiving of such harsh frost conditions, ones that covered her scars from....from somewhere she didn't even know and couldn't think.

When she first awoke and noticed the pale silver marks amidst the smooth mocha skin, she didn't think to give them much thought, disgusted slightly at first and then subconsciously using them as a stimulation, a connection to the past, an explanation, a hope, a desire. Each time her gaze swept by them accidental, something in her mind stirred ever so slightly, not enough to seem significant when she had faced the imp. Now, however, when she had nothing to do but wait the storm out, she could feel the tingling in the back of her mind much more clearly.

In the nothingness, faint although the space was anything but large, she heard the first notes of a new song. Her heart started to pound faster, blood moving through her chilled veins as she tried to determine where the sound came from and what that meant for her. Last time, she barely avoided his axe, controlled in a way that both excited her and made her stomach tighten in her torso. Blinking, her eyelashes wet and covered in crystals, she could ever so faintly make out the little creature and his flute, anger in his eyes, at her or at someone else she didn't care.

"Stop it! Stop this madness!" she growled as she watched him, not caring that in her own frustration - because that was exactly how she felt, unable to counter his music with her own - she exposed where she was located. The dagger in her hand, the elegant thing of old was itching to get into action. "Stop the howling of your flute! I demand it!"

With her last words, she let the dagger fly...

[The Imposter]

SLASH


The contained storm began to fade as the momentum from the turbulent shaking continued to diminish. The whiteout gave way to shapes and silhouettes, then to colors and broad strokes of detail. The scene became a watercolor before the creature’s orange eyes. Scanning as he played his jig, he searched for his opponent. The picture before him continued to become clearer: he could make out more of the trees and the snowman from earlier, the dim light from within the small house, and yet no troubadour. Despite no vision of Nathalia, the flutist began to find glee as he coaxed his new weapons to life, the plurality of tiny shards of broken glass began to rise up from the ground below. Their varied shapes combating the ever falling snowflakes as they continued their ascent in complete obedience. Soon some of them began to move together forming something akin to a barbed needle. Others just floated awaiting the goblin to find his mark.


PIERCE


It was her voice, unmistakable in its vindication. Despite the storm it sounded clear, moving the short distance and ringing in the Piper’s ears. The emotion it carried struck him strangely. The wicked rage that spurned on the words of the troubadour had haphazardly mimicked speeches that had flowed from his own lips throughout the bout. The peculiar feeling was soon paired with surprise as the realization of where the source of the mimicry came from. He wanted his body to turn to face the cabin on his right and yet fatigue continued to overwhelm him. The delay must have been wrought by luck as the glint of the dagger flashed in his peripheral vision. Strange, unfamiliar warmth began to run down his right arm and also within, the pain bubbled along with the dark crimson flow. His knees buckled under the weight yet the small dagger had pinned his arm to the fake tree. He yelped and barked as the still small blade tore through his muscle and flesh until it the arm was free. Limply falling to his side as his knees crashed to the earth below, waiting for the rest of him to fall over and accept his fate...


REND


The Pied Piper however did not yield. His barking changed to screaming and every odd moment syllables sprung out. Rage overflowed, with no amount of temperance remaining to dam the flood. The childish outburst lasted only seconds but amidst the battlefield it felt akin to eternal torment. The sudden silence from the creature was just as frightening as the goblin cocked his head and set his eyes on the tiefling. His eyes yellow, orange seemed to be set ablaze and peered into the alluring creature. The soured lips were hidden by obtuse nose until they curled revealing yellow, black, jagged teeth. Bringing the flute to his lips he exhaled a quick breath before recoiling back against the tree. The note was clear and high and imbued his tools with a rage like his own.

The many shards flew forward, the ‘needle’ leading the charge. Their target was obvious as the legion of glass group closer together wanting to pilfer the life of the Pied Piper’s enemy.

[G]

Wow, this was a difficult one to judge! You both did your characters great justice, both in their personalities and their fighting styles. Breggo, I loved the added touch of the Troubadour speaking in rhymes, and the expression through musical metaphors. Imposter, your eery and slightly deluded take on the Animator was fantastic, and all in all it's been a pleasure to read - less so to have to judge between you. But judge I must!


Breggo; one point was removed for failing to observe the instructions I gave at the beginning of the match, and not waiting for me to post after the second round.
Writing Style: 7/9
-Ideas: 3/3
-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

-1

Total: 22

Imposter
Writing Style: 7/9
-Ideas: 3/3
-Flow: 2/3
-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: 24

The winner of this fight is The Imposter.