Round 1- Ma1chbox Vs. dakkagor- Judge: Kris

[Kris]

You awake to find yourself within a building with two floors, the words, "WORLD OF WONDERS MALL," on a neon sign flashing in fifty shades of purple light.

Despite the horrible state in which the place is in, the recorded music is still functional and playing.

Further up ahead, beyond the escalator, is a small fountain that no longer works, but is stilled filled with some water.

Although some stores are completely empty, the shoes stores are pretty much intact, covered only with glass that can easily be broken. (There are three total: one on the upper floor, two on the ground floor on each side, east and west).

Most of the upper floor allows for only one person in the narrow passage between each store and is much smaller than the ground floor (like the picture). The glass roof is dangling pretty much as shown in the picture, held on only by a miracle and small wires.

The conveyor belt do not work.

dakkagor will go first.

Good luck!

(You have 4 posts per person and 48 hours to respond between each post.)

[dakkagor]

Vladimir flinched, his arm flying up to cover his eyes as the light engulfed him, consumed him, tore him apart. . .

He blinked. Opened his eyes properly. He was alive. For a moment that was miracle enough. When the Hyperion had fired, he was sure it would be the end.

He stretched his mind outwards as his breathing normalised, and immediately felt the close connection of Mishka nearby, feeling the warjacks cortex before becoming aware of the rumble of its steam engine or the tread of its feet. His mind slipped comfortably into the jacks mechanical mind, like hands into worn metal gauntlets padded with good leather. He brought Mishka under his direct control, seeing through its eyes and his own as he turned in a slow circle and took in his surroundings.

“Wherever we are, Mishka, we are not in Laell any more.” The Warcaster muttered under his breath.

He knew, instantly, that he was not dead. Urcaen did not accommodate for Warjacks, and those with arcane talent shed those gifts when they shed their mortal shells. He was not on Caen, or at least, not in any part of Caen he recognised. He was quite widely travelled, but this place was alien to him. It was some kind of massive structure, almost like some strange temple. Square pillars held aloft different levels connected by stairs and strange, hollow glass and steel columns. It was not unpleasant, but he did not know how such a place could be constructed. His limited knowledge of architecture told him so much open space with so little supporting it required some science or magic unknown to him. The glass panes that sealed off some areas alone would be worth a fortune in the capital.

Vladimir set his shoulders and took stock. He was alive, armed, and unharmed. His Warjack and his armour had a full load of fuel and water, which would provide at least fifty minutes of combat running, or several hours of marching. There was a source of water nearby, even, in an ornamental pond. He was still a Warcaster, a commissioned officer of the Khadoran Empire, and he would return to his unit, and do his duty to his Empress. Thus, he decided that his first objective would be to find a settlement, procure coal and directions, then see about transport for him and Mishka. Maybe if he could find whoever was playing the strangely jaunty music, he could ask them for directions out of this odd place. And if the minstrel did not cooperate, Vladimir would wring the information from him.

Suddenly, he was aware that he was not alone in this strange temple. He turned and saw the other occupant, who was not the minstrel playing the annoying music.

It was a strange being. Carved, or perhaps grown from a single gem, it had two twisted and blackened arms and a blank face, its form chased with black iron and clad in tattered robes . It floated above the ground in a way that reminded him of the constructs of the Cult of Crysis, and Vladimir wondered if he had somehow been transported to an abandoned temple of theirs. Around it six translucent arms wavered like heat haze, holding six blazing golden orbs.

“What manner of monster are you, then?” He hissed. He did not expect, need, or even want an answer, for he had come to a conclusion on his own. A Demon, one of the dreaded Infernals of the Abyss, come to claim his very soul. With a snap of thought he directed Mishka to move forward, and the monstrous jack began to thunder across and around the black floor. He stalked behind the construct and called up the runes of his Arcane Detection spell. Blue Khardic runes spun around his right hand before racing across the arena in a flash of winter light, revealing sources of arcane power nearby.

The creature is strong. He mused, as the information from the spell filtered into his mind, even as he guided Mishka forwards. But its power is seemingly concentrated in those spheres. They are pure magical potential, infinitely flexible. He gripped his staff and axe tighter as he continued to march forward, Mishka thundering towards the demon ahead of him, seemingly setting the whole building to vibrate with its heavy tread.

I will have to be very careful.

[Ma1chbox]

A shimmering crystalline figure knelt quietly in meditation amidst the burning ruins of an old temple. Head bowed and arms spread out around him in a circle, the creature emitted a low hum, almost like singing, but not quite. Six bright orbs floated at the end of each ghostly appendage, slowly revolving like minuscule planets.

Suddenly, the humming ceased. The orbs stood still as well. The wind stopped howling and the dust settled. Solemnly, the figure raised its head and looked up to the sky. Two circles began to glow bright where its eyes should be. A bright beam came down from the heavens and struck the creature, causing it to stand up and slowly levitate upwards. Shortly after, a blinding flash emanated from the levitating being.

When Raava came to his senses again, he found himself in a strange area. It looked to be a structure long abandoned by civilization. The great arena was large and made of stone and marble, a telltale sign that it was a monument to the hubris of mankind. The only difference was that the architecture was... different. Strange indeed, but the only thing stranger to him was the melody that seemed to come from nowhere, yet reverberated throughout the godforsaken building. Silently, the crystalline man swore to burn it to the ground.

Slowly looking down, his's eyes came in contact with another living soul, a bearded human clad in a heavy coat and a fur hat. Instantly, Raava began to emit a low hum. He could tell that the man possessed great power. This was proven to be true by the fact that runes began to appear around the man's arm. Beside it, he saw a gargantuan behemoth made of iron and fire. It was surely not a beast, but a machine, a slave to its owner.

Without warning, the iron giant began to charge relentlessly forwards while the sorcerer marched at a steady pace behind it. The overimposing figure, looming presence, and thunderous gait would have been enough to instill fear in even the hardiest of warriors, but it did nothing to faze Raava. He stood still, unflinching in the face of incoming danger.

In this situation, most would run. At this moment, Raava was no exception. He ran... towards the infernal machine. The ethereal arms sprouting from his shoulders flared brighter as the orbs began to revolve once more. Two sunspheres from the left side and one from his right side broke formation and began to circle slowly around the crystal mass as he began to glow brighter with each step. At the very last moment before the big impact with the red machine, Raava mustered all the physical force he could and leapt high into the air so he was at eye level with the warjack. As he soared through the air towards his enemy's head, every ethereal arm on his shoulder pulled back and bent at the elbow as if preparing to deliver multiple punches.

[dakkagor]

Vladimir allowed himself a nasty grin as the demon launched itself at Mishka, its phantasmal fists rearing back to strike. Mishka was most effective in close combat and that was exactly where the creature had placed itself. Perhaps he would be able to banish this creature swiftly.

He clamped down hard on the 'jacks cortex, causing it to shift and brace even as he stepped out from behind its shadow. Coordination between a Warjack and its controlling Warcaster was a delicate skill, but Vladimir had honed it to a fine art that allowed for deadly coordinated strikes.

Mishka dug in its feet and reared back, lining up its armoured head for a ferocious head butt amid a blast of steam and the screech of gears. At the same moment Vladimir thrust his staff forwards, not at the demon, but at the pillar that was directly in front of Mishka, and directly behind the floating monster. The staff grew forge hot before firing a blast of sticky green fire that shrieked through the air, ghoulish and distended faces briefly visible in the flames before the ball of fire splashed over the pillar with the roar of a blast furnace. At that moment, Mishka slammed forward with all its weight, its armoured head hurtling towards Raava with all the force of a run away steam train. If that attack connected, the demon would be knocked backwards into the pillar, and the pool of sticky green fire that ate away at it.

[Ma1chbox]

At the moment before impact, the iron beast as it reared its massive head back and lunged forward with all its might. Raava knew that if he leaned forward enough, he would manage to lessen the force of the impact, but instead, he went for an unexpected and unorthodox tactic: He made no effort whatsoever to avoid the attack. In fact, it became obvious that he was actively trying to take in the full force of the impact. He made sure his chest, which was the sturdiest part of his body, was lined up with the machine's forehead. His translucent arms, though poised to strike, made no effort to follow through with the offense.

An eerie silence filled the arena at the very last moment before the clash. Finally, the time had come for Raava's plan to unfold. Deep down inside, he knew that the great prophet Eru was watching over him. Only one thought was in the disciple's head at that very instant: A silent mantra of "Thy will be done." uttered but once, as once was enough.

The infernal machine's armored head slammed full force into Raava, creating a shallow circular pattern of cracks on the surface of his chest. A loud, blunt note not unlike a bullet flattening against reinforced glass rang out and resonated through the abandoned structure. Immediately, he was sent flying backwards at a breakneck speed. At this point, it seemed inevitable for the him to collide with the flaming pillar, but Raava had other plans. While he flew backwards, the three orbs circling him began to do so faster and faster, until finally, just before he crashed into the pillar, each sunsphere imploded towards him as his ethereal arms curled inwards.

Just like that, Raava disappeared amidst a blinding flash of light that lingered for a second or two. Aside from the damage caused by the sticky green fire, the burning pillar remained unscathed. Immediately after, the crystalline man reappeared a mere meter in front of the Khadoran warcaster. Still retaining the high velocity momentum from the warjack's running headbutt, he continued to fly backwards at a breakneck speed but towards his enemy this time, essentially becoming a 400 pound projectile. Taking advantage of the disorienting effects the blinding flash must have had on his opponent, Raava turned towards his foe in midair and lined up his enemy's torso with his own. He aimed to take the old man with him mid-flight and create as much distance between them and the warjack as possible, as well as to pin him down under his sheer weight afterwards.

Anticipating the second impact, a single sunsphere out of the three remaining floated into the grasp of one of his ethereal arms and began to glow whiter and whiter as well as emit more and more heat, up until the point where it looked like a miniature star on the brink of collapse.

[dakkagor]

Vladimir was aware that something had gone wrong with his plan almost immediately. The tell tale clues were clear: He was flying through the air, and his chest hurt like he had been hit by a rampaging Warjack. He snapped out of the daze just before he hit the ground, and tried to roll with the impact. He certainly wasn't as spry as he used to be, and the ground was hard stone. Once he finished skidding across the ground, armour sparking and his robes tangling around him, he staggered to his feet, using his priceless Orgoth staff as a simple walking stick. The chest piece of his armour was caved inwards, making every breath a struggle. As he stood, he could feel a few of his ribs grinding painfully in his chest. The demon had fallen and rolled as well, and Vladimir counted himself incredibly lucky that the heavy bastard had not landed on him.

Mishka staggered, confused, and Vladimir, through pure force of will, powered through the pain and clamped control back on the 'jack. Mishka shuddered at the sympathetic pain of its Warcaster and turned to face Raava, its eyes glowing brightly as its steam engine roared like a great, angry cave bear.

"Very clever, monster." Vladimir spat, blood flecking his teeth and beard. "But it will take more than being clever to stop me!"

For all his bravado, Vladimir knew this battle had taken a disastrous turn. He needed to get the demon to refocus on his Warjack, which could take heavy damage and still fight. He could not sustain another hit like that.

Harnessing his pain and anger, he twisted it through the Warjacks cortex, strengthening his control and goading Mishka forwards. In response, Mishka let out another angry rumble of steam and black soot before charging at the floating demon, both its massive fists raised ready to strike and drive the obstinate creature into the ground. At the same time, Vladimir called up a ring of icy blue runes around his axe, before gesturing at Raava. Spikes of iron hard ice flew from his axe in a wide spray, some clattering from Mishkas hull as the 'Jack crashed forwards, shaking the whole arena.

[Ma1chbox]

The double-edged sword tactic had mostly worked. A great impact was made and the warcaster suffered considerable damage. Raava himself managed not to sustain any significant injuries aside from a few more unnoticeable cracks on his hard exterior. Unfortunately, the old man managed to slip out from underneath his grasp, sending him tumbling but not pinned. Raava himself flew a bit further, but like his opponent, he managed to roll with the fall and end up mostly on his feet.

Standing up from a crouched position, he looked directly at his wounded enemy and surveyed the situation once more. The warjack was dazed, but soon regained control and turned around, ready to be commanded once more. Without warning, it repeated its first action, which was to charge haphazardly towards Raava. Something was... different, though. This time, the machine had its fists slightly higher than it did before. Quickly thinking, the crystalline man deduced that his previous trick would not work again. Knowing this, the sunsphere that was currently glowing a scalding white ceased to do so and gradually returned to its signature yellow color.

Suddenly, he saw bolts of blue streaking through the air. Upon closer inspection, they were all made of ice. Beyond the incoming shards and the rampaging warjack, he could see a ring of blue symbols manifesting around the caster's arm. Thinking quickly, Raava turned his relatively uninjured back towards the attack, shielding his more damaged underbelly from the flying spears of ice. The ones that didn't shatter on the hide of the red mech shattered instead on the hardened exterior of yellow crystal, sending small blue and yellow chips of crystal flying. Harmonic clangs rang out each time crystal collided with crystal. While none of the shards managed to embed themselves in him, he found himself staggering and getting knocked away a bit upon each contact.

Quickly, Raava turned around to see the warjack almost upon him. Acting upon instinct, two sunspheres out of three exploded into tiny yellow embers, which embedded themselves inside Raava's crystal core. Almost immediately, Raava ran forward. Rather, a duplicate of Raava ran forward, one that was indentical in every way. The duplicate ran directly towards the warjack, and at leapt at its head again, trying to mimic the previous move and distract it.

[dakkagor]

Mishka bellowed as it brought its two fists down on the creature in front of it, slamming the hardened steel into. . .

Not into, through. The whole arena seemed to shake with the impact, a spider web of cracks spreading from the point of impact through the black stone of the floor, flecks of rocks flying clear like shrapnel from a mortar shell.

Vladimir cursed as the 'Jack smashed only empty ground, tricked by the illusion. He gathered his wits for another attack, calling up his reserves of arcane power and preparing to cast his most powerful spell.

The ground under him moved. He felt the same movement through Mishka, but vastly magnified, a shudder and an unbalancing, a tilting of the world. Vladimir turned and started to run, heading for a nearby boutique as he realised what was happening. He willed Mishka to instead head for the demon, and the Warjack dutifully obeyed, stomping forwards, venting broiling steam from its boiler.

Vladimir did not think it would hurt the strange crystal being. But the frontal attack would hopefully distract it from what was happening to the arena. The damage to the pillar, the movements of the Warjack, and that last missed attack. . .

With a tortured groan, the stone floor underneath Mishka, Vladimir and Raava collapsed. The whole arena roared as dust and stone was thrown into the air, toppling Mishka. Vladimir lunged for the shops door frame even as he felt the ground underneath him disappear. He dropped his staff and screamed in pain as his lungs and chest protested this abuse, but his hand caught the lintel as the floor vanished into the maelstrom. From above, plasterboard cascaded down in clogging white sheets on top of Mishka, and Vladimir fervently prayed, the demon as well.

As he hauled himself into the remains of the shop. Vladimir ignored the pains in his body to assess the damage to his Warjack. Mishka was pinned under a heavy steel beam, and was trying to get free, its armour rent in several places and its right leg and arm severely damaged. Even if he could get the 'Jack free without help, which he doubted, the machine would be moving at a limp at best.

Groaning, Vladimir pulled himself up to a sitting position, and looked into the cloud of dust below him, waiting to see if the demon had survived.

[Ma1chbox]

The ruse had worked perfectly. Raava watched as the lumbering beast ground to a halt and brought its hammer-like fists crashing down onto the identical duplicate, causing it to flicker and burst into harmless yellow embers that fizzled into oblivion. Now the red menace was distracted once more. Deep inside his mind, Raava acknowledged how his hypothesis was right, in the sense that his previous tactic would not have worked again. Unfortunately, now was not the time for self-congratulation and pride. No, that comes later.

Just moments before the giant pounded the tiled floor into itself, the crystal being turned away from the preoccupied warjack and ran as fast as he could. The circumstances grew more and more dangerous and intense by the second, but Raava, the chosen disciple of the great prophet Eru, felt no fear, and instead formulated another plan of action. If the steam-powered monster was to be put out of its misery, the higher ground would have to be secured. Now instead of running directly away from his pursuer, he veered off and set course for the stairs heading up into the upper level of the dilapidated building.

His nefarious plotting was abruptly but unsurprisingly interrupted by a thunderous crash which resonated from behind. Not a second later, chunks of rock and tile of varying size flew past the and at the escaping Raava. Anticipating this beforehand, he kept running but then ducked lower, angling his back in such a way that debris will bounce off of him instead of hitting him squarely. The plan seemed to work well enough, as made evident by the telltale sounds of crystal deflecting rock.

The earth-shattering quake was shortly followed by a rhythmic booming that seemed to inch closer and closer. Raava didn't need to look behind him to know that the old sorcerer had sicced the rampaging beast on him once more. As his feet carried him forward as fast as they could, he silently thought it stubborn of the man to so blatantly rely on his beast of iron. Then again, it was quite unsurprising, considering the warcaster was a human. Nevertheless, the plan was to go on. Soon, the slave will be free of its bonds... in the light of eternal peace.

While the chase continued, the entire structure began to shudder and tilt, almost as if it came to life and was angered by the grave desecration brought upon it by the three combatants. At first, Raava thought it strange. Each step of the warjack, though heavy-footed and destructive, was surely not enough to cause this kind of phenomenon. Frantically, Raava's gaze scanned the area for any clues as to what may be happening.

The instant he gave the roof a good look, it was too late. He no longer felt any resistance against his feet. The pounding footsteps behind him had ceased to be. The ground groaned and grumbled like the stomach of a hungry titan, and much like what could be expected from a hungry titan, the floor burst open like a great maw, devouring everything unlucky enough to be on it. High up above, the white roof came crashing down as well. Truly, this was a most unfortunate turn of events.

Now that he was falling and under immediate threat of being sandwiched under tons of debris, all the alarms in Raava's head went off. It was time to focus every last one of his efforts on creating a solid defense as fast as possible. In his perspective, time seemed to slow down as he looked around at anything and everything, plotting and deciding on the best course of action to take. For a brief moment, he considered using the warjack as a makeshift shield, guessing that the mech's unusual shape would provide him a nook or cranny to take shelter under. Unfortunately, it was too far away, as was any other feasible form of cover.

Left with no other options, Raava bowed his head in prayer. All he could do now was mitigate the damage he would undoubtedly receive. With a few graceful twists and kicks, he righted himself in such a way that he would land feet-first into the sea of debris below. Once more, he bent forward to expose his back to the immediate danger, the rooftops descending upon him. Gradually, within the span of a few seconds, he ceased to move as his form glowed a strong yellow, creating a bright silhouette that glowed amidst the dust and smoke. His lone sunsphere began to orbit his torso in a tight circle. The landing went just as planned. He was now crouched motionless, his bright yellow glow masking his contours in such a way that he simply looked like a plain glowing orb when viewed from above.

Not a moment later, the roof came down upon him, plasterboard, steel, and all. Raava could feel his form cracking and buckling with each successive blow. At the same time, however, he also felt a divine warmth around him, causing the indents, craters, and shattered pieces of his body to gradually return to its original, unharmed shape. The rate at which the regeneration occured was slightly slower than the rate at which damage was incurred, but at the very least, it would have left him capable of still acting at a certain level of offensive tendency. If he had not done so, the results of the great collapse would have been... much less desirable, to say the least.

[Kris]

dakkagor

Writing Style: 5.5
Artistry and Complexity 2
Fluidity and Clarity : 2
Convention- 1.5

You had a weak start, that quickly grasped me. Some lines could have been written better, but the last two posts were very very good.


Effectiveness of Combat: 6
Character Consistency 2
Ingenuity 2.5
Choreography 1.5

I felt like you could bring your char out more. He seems to be having a lot more to say than his rival, but it still felt very technical, but you still give your rival a lot of attention in your writing.


Control of the Field: 6
Environmental Awareness 2.5
Strategic Awareness 2
Control of the Fight 1.5

I think you were the only one who actually took notice of the field. You realized there were things around to be used, and you worked your way around it. I still felt like it could have been planned better, but I do like the fact you were noticing the changes around you.

Total: 17.5
penality: -1 (For not reaching the min of 300 words in one post)
Total: 16.5

----------------------------
Ma1chbox

Writing Style: 8
Artistry and Complexity 2.5
Fluidity and Clarity 3
Conventions 2.5

Your writing is really to the point and delivered in a very good manner. In some area it feels risky, as I felt you were often trying to use higher words that did not always fit, but it was still working. I liked the fact you took the risk to dip your posts with some taste.

Effectiveness of Combat: 5.5
Character Consistency 2
Ingenuity 2
Choreography 1.5

I felt like you knew what you wanted from your char and your role in the field, but to be honest, it felt somewhat "empty". There was so much you could have brought out of him, even without writing a lot in order to do it. Again, that is my personal opinion, as my big "change" deal, will probably be regarding the field, which I will explain in the next part.

Control of the Field: 4.5
Environmental Awareness 1.5
Strategic Awareness 1.5
Control of the Fight 1.5

Your notice of the field was poor. And I'm surprise you didn't add some more spice from what was around you into the char and the orbs. I think it could have done better, mainly when there were so many things to notice.

Total: 18

--------------------------------------
Thank you both for a wonderful fight, but sadly only one person can continue.

Ma1chbox is going to the next round.