Round 1: Pirate (Cervantes) VS. Reaver (Vee) - Judge G

[G]

http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2014/030/3/0/crossing_the_hardened_desert_by_balaskas-d74ey7r.jpg

Before you stretches an endless desert, the dunes breaking the horizon as they surge high above your heads to the left and right, curling into pointed peaks that seem to defy gravity. Dark shadows are thrown down by the dunes, creating an ominous air but simultaneously offering patches of welcome relief from the blistering sun above. You can already feel the dehydration - a dry tickle in your throat; a discomfort at this point, no more, though the same would not be said if you found yourself stranded here for any longer than necessary.

The sand is blistering hot to the touch where the dunes do not shade it, and shifts under your feet, threatening your balance when you move too quickly. The towering dunes seem solid as marble in their undisturbed state, but a thoughtful mind will realize that were their bases to be disturbed too much, their integrity might fail, sending a heavy avalanche of the blistering grains down upon you.

In the far distance, dark clouds have gathered, blotting out the light of the sky beyond. The occasional flash of lightening, followed a few seconds after by the thunderous crash it creates, gives you a hint of the ferocity of the storm. For now, the air is calm, but the storm moves ever closer.

(For the first post the storm is merely a sight in the distance. On the second post, a slow but steady wind will pick up. On the third post, the wind grows stronger, shifting the sands around you. On the fourth post, the sand will whirl through the air, biting at any exposed skin and hindering your vision. On the fifth post, the winds will create an all-out sandstorm.
Major damage inflicted upon the dunes at any point will cause them to collapse.)

-

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 Night Terrors.

[Veloci]

Cervantes looked about, taking in the sights. He grinned, then saw his opponent. She was short, well, shorter than him anyways, with long dark hair, that seemed almost blue to him. His grin grew wider, and he laughed, from deep within. "Are you the one whom I must defeat to move on? Heh, I expected a challenge from this, but I guess I will have to live with you." He cracked his knuckles and popped his neck. He then rushed forwards, towards his opponent, pulling out one of his cutlasses. He roared out a laugh as he charged.

Once he got within 5 feet of his foe however, he stopped, briefly before looking at her, and smirking. "What say we make this a little more challenging?" He began to walk over to a sand dune, before looking back at his foe. "Come and find me, wench." He said, thrusting his fist into the sand dune, destabilizing it before running off behind the cloud of sand.

[Mystress of Shadows]

The Reaver was surrounded by sand, sand, and more sand. The wonderful vision from her dreams was still fresh on her mind; her bloodlust had been boiling ever since, and she wanted nothing more than to tear open a body and bathe in the resulting blood. However, she had found herself in this god-forsaken desert where it was liable that not a single other living creature would be found and, to put it simply, it pissed her off.

The sun was beating down on her fiercely, and the sands were burning heat right through the thick sole of her boots. She needed shade before she could examine her surroundings more fully, and thankfully, there seemed to be large, dark shadows cast down from something. Only when she reached the safe-haven of the shade did she gaze upwards. All around her were dunes: huge ones, in fact. She could see that the curling peaks were what sent out the shadows with the midday sun, but she couldn't see how they were staying like that in the first place. It didn't seem physically possible.

Then again, neither was her strength. Her strength... She could feel the power in her body. She could feel the power she held, and it pleased her to feel such a familiar sensation through the empty memories. She clenched her fist tightly in front of her, feeling the energy give strength to the motion. This, and the name that rested at the tip of her tongue, Vee, would give her the strength to make whoever was messing with her pay dearly for their transgressions.

A hearty laugh sounded through the area, and her head snapped towards the sound only to came face to face with a massive figure. Furthermore, this person appeared at least partly human and thus had blood running through his veins, and that realization made her grin deviously. She was more than ready to fight to consume it and satiate her growing thirst.

He underestimated her. It was obvious in the arrogant way he spoke and moved. It was something he would soon regret. As he began his charge, Vee readied herself. His footing was surer than hers, even on these shifting sands, and it made her wary. She couldn't afford to underestimate him, either. She readied her defensive stance to dodge at the last second and counter-attack, but just as she began to move, her opponent just stopped. Everything was sounding alarms to her. This wasn't right. Why'd he stop?

"What say we make this a little more challenging?"

Vee stared as he began to make his way to the base of the dune she had been using for shade. A slight scowl appeared as she attempted to figure out his plan. If needed, she was ready to retreat for the moment, but that was the least of her options. Every muscle in her body was tense with anticipation as he struck his fist deep within the dune's base and ran. It was a strange thing to do in her eyes, and she didn't see the purpose of it right away.

Slowly, the massive mountain of sand began to slide and topple, coming closer and closer to enveloping her. At that moment, her instincts took over and she sprinted to the best of her ability in the direction her foe had just escaped in. Thankfully, she managed to escape with no more than a small shower of hot grains.

"You'll pay for that," Vee muttered even though her opponent most likely didn't hear it. Peering through the cloud of dust, she spotted the fading silhouette of her opponent. She ran towards him, but she kept her distance until he stopped. Once he stopped, so did she.

Standing approximately eight feet away from him, she asked, "Care to tell me the name of the person who just insulted me by thinking I would be so easily stopped by sand?" As she awaited her answer, she examined him more closely. He had two swords, one on each side, and a gun. That meant he had the range advantage. His large size would slow him down, however, and it was obvious that he was cocky. The stench of alcohol permeated the area around him, and Vee wrinkled her nose in disgust. He was a drunk without a doubt. Only question was, would he be drunk during the fight?

[Veloci]

Cervantes dashed away, pumping his arms. Once he stopped he turned to see his opponent running towards him out of the cloud of sand. He grinned, and roared out another laugh as she got closer. Her skin was quite pale really, he noticed as he watched her. She was quite pretty really, it was a shame she had to die. He laughed again and began to walk to his left.

When he heard her question, he laughed again, stopped walking, and put his arms out to his sides. "I am Cervantes!" He roared at her, "And you are going to be killed by me!" He put his arms down again, and grinned. This tiny woman wouldn't hurt him, at least, not much. He reached into his belt and pulled his bottle of rum from it. He smiled broadly, uncorked the bottle, and took a deep drink from it. "Ah... That hit the spot!" He laughed, before looking at his opponent, "Would you like some?" He inquired, walking to the left and towards her. "Also, what is your name, wench?"

[Mystress of Shadows]

So that was his name. Cervantes. She whispered it softly once, feeling it roll off her tongue. This was the name of her opponent. He seemed too dimwitted to be the strings behind everything, and thus, he must be a step towards the answers instead. She would put him to good use in her goal of finding those who placed her in this predicament.

Yelling. Always yelling. The vile male standing before her lacked the conscience to quiet himself even though she was right there. It was obnoxious, and it was ticking her off bit by bit. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it only grew stronger as he pulled a flask out and began to drink. What's more was that he had the nerve to offer her such a rancid thing.

Vee's lips curled up slightly as she scowled at him. "The name is Vee," she told him in answer to his question, "and I don't accept drinks from swine." With these words, Vee finally launched her attack. She was done talking to such a useless lump of flesh, and she was ready to get him out of her way. She readied her stance, purposely making it obvious that she was hostile.

Time seemed to slow for a mere second just before she attacked. She felt her muscles tensing, and her claws were out and ready. Her fangs appeared from just behind her lips in a vicious snarl, and she was ready.

She pushed off, kicking up a small cloud of sand as she sprinted towards her opponent at full speed. She drew her right arm up to strike, but at the last second, she dropped to the ground and allowed her momentum to carry her past her opponent. The sand helped to stop her not even a meter away, and twisting into a standing position, she used her left claw to attack swiftly and fiercely at her opponent's back before dashing back.

She stumbled slightly in her attempt to back away, and as she steadied herself, she watched Cervantes closely to see his response.

[Veloci]

Cervantes took another swig, and stopped walking when he heard his opponents response. "Vee, eh? Cute." He tensed up at her words about the drink. As such, he was only partially prepared for what happened next. As the woman charged at him, he tensed up, crouching. What he didn't expect was the speed, agility and strength in the woman. When she slid past him, he attempted to turn around to face her, and got scratched on his side for the effort. He stepped backwards, before looking back at the woman.

He scowled, "You'll pay for that, wench." He said, pulling out one of his cutlasses, holding it in his right hand. He looked around at the terrain. Large dunes surrounded them, the only exits behind and in front of his person. He twirled the cutlass, and began to slowly move to his left. After a few moments, he dashed forwards, his cutlass before him. As he ran, he grabbed up some sand, and noticed the powerful wind blowing the sand about, shifting the ground beneath his feet. He filed the information away for later, continuing his charge.

Once he was a few feet from his opponent, he would toss the sand at her, while kicking up some more sand and slicing repeatedly through the resulting cloud with his blade. He would try and overwhelm his smaller opponent through the sheer amount of attacks.

[Mystress of Shadows]

Her strike hit its mark just as she had hoped, and just as she had planned, Cervantes returned her attack with his rage beginning to show. She studied his movement as he began his charge, stooping for a second to gather a handful of sand. However, the distance between the pair of them was not great, and the gap was closed quicker than she expected.

The sand bit at her face even as her arms instinctively blocked a large amount of it. The sand that was kicked up was of no matter to her as it couldn't penetrate her legging or boots. As the light wind blew some of the cloud away, the first strike came as a sharp sting to her forearm. For the second, she saw the glint of it in the sunlight, and she was able to duck, though just barely. The strikes continued to come one after another, and she suffered blows to her arms, torso, and one or two to her lower body. While she had managed to dodge many of the blows, she had still taken a number of hits.

Her rage grew with each strike that managed to land. She though her opponent was sloppy in his moves, and he was wasting his rage in such an attack. He didn't understand true rage and true bloodlust like she did. He fought solely for his ego. Why was she pitted against such a naïve, useless creature? Whoever decided she would have to fight him must have been ignorant to his incapability, but she would soon make them see it.

The glint of the blade shone to her once again, and this time, she did something she knew wouldn't be expected. She grabbed the blade as it came down on her. Her left hand was struck with pain, but she didn't care. Pain was pleasure to her when she inflicted it upon herself. She would inflict that pain on her opponent soon enough and laugh when she did. For the moment, however, he needed to know he was inferior to such a master of bloodlust and rage.

As her hand held tightly onto the blade, ignoring the screaming of the deepening cut, her right hand grabbed his forearm in an increasingly tight grip, most likely strong enough to bruise him at the least. With this death grip applied to both the cutlass and his arm, Vee raised her gaze to his, showing him that she wasn't afraid of him, or of his strength and abilities. Rather, she showed him a look that would tell him that she would bring him to his knees if it was the last thing she did.

"You insolent pig. You wield your rage no better than an infant crying for attention." She may have been shorter than her opponent, but the look she presented to him was a death glare. Her eyes alone showed the flowing anger coursing through every inch of her body. She allowed her words to sink in, and just as she saw him making a move, she spoke again. "Let me show you how real rage is wielded." With these words, she did two things.

The first thing she did was screw with Cervantes' mind. As her eyes darkened from a light violet to a dark purple, almost black, and she unleashed her power, her opponent's mind would become overrun by images that would shake him to his core: images that would feed off his darkest fears and bring them to life before his eyes.

The second thing she did happened simultaneously with the first. The hand that held tightly onto his arm was suddenly yanked in a downward, yet outward, motion in an attempt to shatter it. She would make sure he wouldn't be able to use his arm again.

[Veloci]

Cervantes roared as he rained down blows upon his opponent. She dodged some, but got hit by others. He grinned, thinking it was over. He couldn't be more wrong. As he did an overhead cut at Vee, she caught the blade in her hand. He flinched slightly at that, finally noticing the steadily increasing wind, and it's effects. As such, he wasn't ready for her grabbing the forearm of the one that held the cutlass. He looked down at her, and sneered. The sneer turned into a look of pure anger before her eyes changed.

Before the fear hit him, his first thought was that this was no ordinary woman. The next thing he knew, he saw ghostly apparitions, and images of him falling from his esteemed perch. From him being defeated of all things. This rocked him, and made him stagger back as if he had been physically hit. As such, he couldn't do anything about her death grip on his forearm. When she yanked down and forwards, his arm snapped at the elbow, making it go limp.

He barely felt it. From the sudden onset of pure terror to the adrenaline of battle he hardly noticed. He staggered away, his eyes locking on the woman. He pushed the fear away, and felt a different emotion go through his body. Anger, pure, unadulterated anger. And hatred. He looked at his right arm, seeing it hanging limply. He felt the pain then. He grunted in pain, barely holding in a scream. He staggered to his left, the sand whipping into his face, biting, stinging.

He walked a single meter or so when he turned, facing his opponent. They were barely 2 meters apart. He pulled out his flintlock. "Sorry missy. This isn't anything personal. Just survival of the fittest." He said through gritted teeth, cocking back the hammer of the pistol. "Really, I have nothing against you. Short of breaking my arm. Only a minor inconvenience." He laughed, but it was obviously forced. He aimed, even though it wasn't necessary at this range. He winked at Vee as he pulled the trigger, launching forth the bullet. After he pulled the trigger, he would throw the gun to the side and reach for his other cutlass. The battle would end soon, in one or both of their deaths.

[Mystress of Shadows]

Her attack was more successful than she had expected. Not only had he fallen to her mind trick, but his arm was useless as well. She had felt the sickening crack of the bone reverberate from his arm to her hand, and as he stepped back in his terror, Vee began to laugh. It was a soft laugh, more like a chuckle, but it came from her pure glee at her victim's reaction. As he staggered away, she made no further movement, not right then. It wasn't like he'd be able to get far before she caught him anyway.

However, simply breaking his arm and causing him fear did not satisfy her. She wanted to see him collapsed and begging for mercy as he bled out. She wanted to feast on him and bathe in his blood as he helplessly watched. She wanted full control of him and his emotions. She wanted herself to be the last thing he would see, and she wanted him to be wishing he could see anything else as he took his last breath.

Suddenly, a large clap of thunder sounded, breaking her from her delightful thoughts. A storm had rolled in without her hardly realizing it. She had been so focused on her opponent that she had completely ignored her surroundings. The sand had already begun to be picked up by the harsh winds sweeping the desert. One of the dunes even seemed to shift precariously in its gravity-defying state. Taking notice of the sand also made her aware of the stinging effects it had on her body. Her wounds seemed to escalate in pain as the sand dug into the slash marks. The dryness in her throat was strong and scratchy, but she didn't care as long as she had blood available to quench it. The only thing she found herself wishing for was more clothing. Her tank top did nothing to protect the majority of she upper body from the sharp sands as the made contact with her body one after another. All of this had been observed within seconds, and her grin never left her lips once.

The moment she turned back to her opponent, pain presented itself to her once more, this time in her stomach. In a glance downward, she saw the growing stain of blood dripping out stealthily from the middle of her abdomen. Her legs faltered for a moment and she staggered to her right in an effort to keep from falling. She only realized what had happened as she saw Cervantes throw his gun to the side and pull his remaining cutlass out.

He was facing her boldly, believing he could win, she realized, and slowly, a psychotic grin crept bit by bit across her lips. It grew into a chuckle, then into a laugh. She couldn't believe her luck! She stood amongst the whipping sands, merely laughing with unbridled happiness at the prospect of the scene before her. She was facing someone who had the strength, or possibly stubbornness, to put up their best fight without running away like a frightened, little child after seeing their worst fear before their eyes, and it gave her a thrill like no other.

"Let's play for real now, shall we? Let's see who breaks first, me or you. I certainly hope it's the latter." The ever-growing smile painting her countenance with madness matched her eyes' greed and twinkle for the fight and the bloodshed. A dune near them teetered slightly, causing an idea to spark within Vee's mind. "Why don't we start this 'second round' the same way we started the first?"

She took the cutlass she had obtained from Cervantes from her damaged left hand, littering the ground with even more blood. She gripped it tightly in her right hand for hardly half a second, feeling its weight. She knew she wasn't skilled enough to wield it properly in combat, but it would still be useful for something else. Not even a second more passed before she started running towards the nearest dune, her left hand held tightly against the gunshot wound in her stomach. She would need to heal that soon, even if it was only partly, if she wanted to have the upper hand in this fight.

Vee didn't pause once in her running as she used the cutlass to slice through the already unstable dune's base and continuing to the second, all the while calling out, "Come find me and show me you're worth killing. Unless you want to admit defeat, of course!" She wanted to make this fight as interesting and difficult as possible, and fueling the growing sandstorm would make things more than interesting.

After slicing through a third dune and escaping its collapse, Vee stopped and turned to face her opponent, expecting his attack to come through the whirling cloud. Her breathing was heavy from her sprint, and the pain in her abdomen wasn't helping at all. She needed to heal soon, or she could wish her victory goodbye.

[Veloci]

Cervantes pulled out his cutlass, grinning as he noticed the bloodstain spreading from his opponents abdomen. He laughed a moment, then grunted in pain as a searing hot burst of agony went through his arm. When his opponent suggested they fight, 'for real', he realized something. She wasn't human. It all came together in his head.

The pale skin, the unnatural strength and speed. The apparent disregard for mortal wounds. She was a monster in human form. He smiled again. This would be a good test for him. As she ran away, cutting down the dunes, like he had himself at the beginning of the round, he began to walk after her, but, he only got a few feet before the earth got angry. Suddenly, to him at least, the winds started roaring, kicking up bucketfuls of sand, creating a sandstorm. It blinded him, got into his eyes, stung his skin and made his throat dry. He chuckled and held up his good arm to shield his eyes as he staggered forwards.

After a few more moments of walking, he saw his opponent's shadow in the sandstorm. He grinned, and put his cutlass before his body. He moved forwards, getting within a few meters of his foe, and behind her. He laughed, and then charged. As he did, he let loose a roar that would make lesser men quail in fear. He held his cutlass before him, so as to skewer his opponent on it's point. Like a spear. This was his last ditch effort to win this. In his death, or hers, it would be over.

[Mystress of Shadows]

Beautiful. Beautiful! Everything seemed to be dancing to her emotions. Every tactic was completed successfully even as she gained a few wounds herself. She somehow knew that she had endured much worse in the past, wounds so debilitating that it was all she could do to stay conscious. As the wind turned from stinging to absolutely ferocious, she knew her plan had worked. The sand from the fallen dunes were now swirling all around her. It caused her vision to be nearly useless, and it dug into her wounds even more viciously than before. This battle was finally getting interesting.

As Vee faced the storm, she heard a roar coming from the area she had just left. It was a thunderous roar, but what Cervantes didn't realize was that it told her exactly where he was and how quickly he was coming. It warned her of his coming strike, leaving her to prepare for it.

Her response was to dart to her right as quickly as she could, narrowly missing the sharp sting of the blade and her opponent's barreling sprint. His momentum carried him just far enough past her that she could launch her counter-attack immediately. She took a single step behind him and attempted to jump onto his back. There, she would waste no time in digging her claws deep into his left bicep and right shoulder respectively in order to hang on tightly. Finally, she would also try to bite as fiercely as she could into his left shoulder, or as close as she could get.

Should she succeed, she would be able to heal herself slightly by transforming his life force into her own, but she would also destroy wherever she managed to grip or bite.

[G]

Well done to both combatants. You both portrayed your characters well and consistently, and showed initiative in using the surroundings of your Arena to your advantage in the fight. There can be only one winner, however!




Veloci
Writing Style: 7/9
-Ideas: 2
-Flow: 2
-Conventions: 3

Effectiveness of Combat: 7/9
-Character Consistency: 3
-Ingenuity: 1
-Interaction: 3

Control of the Field: 5/9
-Environmental Awareness: 2
-Strategic Awareness: 1
-Control of the Fight: 2

-1 Penalty for exceeding the action/reaction limit.

Total: 18

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

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

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

Total: 25


The winner of this fight is Mystress of Souls.