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| Tournament Round 2 - PG and Sargoth | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 22 2009, 11:53 PM (480 Views) | |
| Ranger | Jun 22 2009, 11:53 PM Post #1 |
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Previously Nex Terren
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The enormous wrought iron cage surrounds you, thick, closely spaced bars offering no hope of escape. The only chance you have? Please your captors. With the giant, roaring bonfire at one far end of the cage as your only source of light, it is tricky to make out much of anything clearly, but as they paraded you into the cage under heavy guard you manged to get a rough idea of the general construct of the surrounding valuan cave and what can be found within the barred area. Pirates on all sides of the cage eagerly watch for the fight to begin between the two of you. After all, these are Captain Arturo's men, known for their love of cage fights, and tendency to have unwilling victims to be the players. Anyone in North Ocean has heard of them and their games, and how they really do release the victors of the cage fights, as those same men who are released are the men who tell the tales of Captain Arturo's cage games. Fighting to see in the dim fireglow casting drawn out midnight black shadows over everything, you manage to make out some details of the interior of the gigantic cage you're in. Loose gravel coats the entire ground of the cage, with a haphazard, broken coating of everything from broken loqua bottles, to shattered barrels with rusting bands, to even the corpses of less fortunate fighters. Sharp rocks stick out from the cave floor, ranging from the size of your fist, to that of two grown men. Hanging from the ceiling of the dome-shaped cage are a modest collection of of lengths of rope, each at their own unique length, and state of decay. An odd set up: parts of the cage encourage acrobatics, such as the rope, the scalable dome cage, and the large expanse, while others act to bring death for even such a simple task as a slow run, including the gravel, dangerous rocks, and above all horrible lighting. The pirate's chanting signals that it's time for the show to begin. At least they let you keep your trusted arms and armor... Feel free to expand upon the setting as much as you like, including the physical description of the crash site, the history of and since the crash, and motivation of the characters. Any expansion is allowed following standard rules of RP conduct; there's no need to okay it with me. The setting has been given to you, do with it whatever you want. PG is to post first. He has a week from me posting this to make his intro post. |
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| PG 17 | Jun 29 2009, 10:31 PM Post #2 |
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Uber Monk
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Mikeil woke slowly, the cold scent of dirt filling his nostrils. Picking himself up, he looked around, still a bit groggy. He shook he head, as his ears turned back on. The first thing he heard was laughter, then intelligible conversation. Shaking his head, he focused his eyes and looked around. He was surrounded by a large iron cage. Various bits of trash littered the interior. Sharp rocks poked out from the floor, bits of rope hanged from the roof. Mikeil grimaced a bit at the few corpses lying on the ground. Squinting in the dim light, he looked beyond the cage. Pirates and other less than savoury folk stood or sat around the cage. Many of them were talking or laughing, bets and loqua being passed around. Knowing he couldn’t do anything about them as of yet, he turned around. Seeing both of his weapons on the ground, he picked them up and sheathed them. Adjusting himself to the weight, he looked around again. It wasn’t terribly hard to guess he was now in a fighting ring. If that was the case, where was his opponent?... He cast his gaze around the cage, but the only one in there at the moment was him, or as far as he could see. Then again, his opponent might be lurking somewhere. Opting to wait, he sat and folded his arms and legs. He decided to think back a bit, to where he had been captured. He had been patrolling the streets of Valua, as usual, when a bunch of pirates had appeared from the rubble. He had managed to kill a few of them, but there had been too many. He was overpowered, and knocked out. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the cage. Suddenly, the crowd started to chant. Mikeil stood up, and looked around. Hm, was his opponent coming? Putting a hand on his sword, he tensed, waiting for whoever it was he was supposed to fight. |
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| Necromancer Sargoth | Jul 6 2009, 07:11 PM Post #3 |
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Affably Evil
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They herded her into the cage, those pirates, those chattel. Four giant men escorted her, two holding her arms, two others behind her, all were armed to the teeth. She had been taken unawares; her own fault really. Zanara berated herself for getting a little too drunk that night; Arturo’s men jumped her outside the tavern. Now she was here, some dank cave, Moon’s only know where. Probably Valua (or near Valua), she thought hazily, as she spied flecks of yellow in the granite walls of the massive cavern. The cage loomed up before suddenly as the tunnel they were in twisted towards a larger cave. It looked like a massive iron tortoise shell, silhouetted by a bonfire. Already Zanara could hear the rowdy crowd of pirates in the as-yet invisible bleachers hastily constructed round the fire. As the guards brought her forward, their grunts and hoots turned ecstatic. Very few women have visited Arturo’s caged arena; undoubtedly, this was a special treat to them. The maw of the cage was pried open; and the two men holding Zanara shoved her in. She struggled to remain on her feet as she stumbled forward, but lost her footing as her boots sank into the loose gravel covering the ground of the arena. She toppled not terribly far from the door, landing painfully on her side. She stifled a cry as the gravel dug into her flesh. The pirates and guards laughed. “Come now, you’ll be needin’ t’do bett’r than that!” Zanara gritted her teeth and picked herself up. The arena smelled of rot, blood, mildew, and stale loqua. Jagged boulders shot up from the ground here and there, casting long shadows. Rope dangled from the cage like ghastly vines. At the other end she saw the figure of a man, armed and grim faced: her opponent. Separating them was a plane of gravel, strewn with the corpses of the fallen fighters before them. A searing anger began to flare up in the pit of Zanara’s stomach at the thought of being made into a spectacle for these men. “Oi, here ya are, pretty lady,” one of the guards shouted before tossing her weapons into the cage. “Try not t’ hurt ya’self with that!” As Zanara collected her dagger and darts from the ground, she fought back an urge to throw the knife back to the guard, lodging the blade in his throat. The only thing that stopped her, was the acute knowledge that her opponent’s blades likely outclassed her own dagger, and she would need that and a little bit of luck to survive this encounter. She satisfied her rage with the mere mental image of herself slitting the man’s throat slowly, his blood washing over her hands and down her body as she clutched the pirate close as he convulsed away the last bit of his body’s energy. She smiled. She stood armed and ready, blowgun in hand and prepared to fire if her opponent charged. The dagger, safely sheathed at her hip, would be a last resort, if he got close enough. She steeled herself for the imminent battle, and waited for her opponent to make a move. Seeing little other than a silhouette, she wondered what kind of man he was, and what he thought at seeing her. Was he afraid? Relieved? The firelight flicked across her face; she was expressionless. Her cold, blue eyes stared out towards the man, daring him to come nearer. Her dress, stained and torn from the previous evening, offers little protection from blades and blows. Still, she was a sight to behold, and the pirates showed their appreciation to their captain with catcalls and whistles. It would be a fine fight, they decided. The wagers from this one would fill Arturo's coffers for a week or more at least! Edited by Necromancer Sargoth, Jul 6 2009, 07:15 PM.
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| PG 17 | Jul 13 2009, 07:01 PM Post #4 |
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Uber Monk
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The roaring around Mikeil increased as the dim shape of his combatant and captors approached the cage. They pried open the cage, and shoved forcefully their captor inside. Mikeil tensed, putting his hand on the sword on his back. He didn’t know what his opponent was capable of, so he had to be careful. Mikeil squinted, and figured out that the captor was a woman. (OOC note, this is where I’m going to completely ignore how Mikeil is supposed to be RPed.) A fight with a woman would be rather, easy, he thought, so he might as well get it over with quickly. Before the woman could react, Mikeil focused, feeling the wellspring of power through his Moonstones. “Moons...give me strength! Driln!” Energy flowed out from Mikeil left arm, and smashed into his opponent. Not waiting for a response, Mikeil dragged his sword off his back. In a fight like this, the sword woulden’t be much good in actual combat. The woman probably was fast and had a few tricks up her sleeve. So, instead, Mikeil drew his arm back, and threw the sword hard, twisting the arc so it would come back. However, he didn’t wait for the sword to kill the woman. Mikeil charged, and as he got close, jumped off the ground, unsheathing his sword and prepared to strike in mid air. |
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| Necromancer Sargoth | Jul 21 2009, 04:16 AM Post #5 |
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Affably Evil
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Zanara’s foe surprised her; rather than charging, he attacked with Driln. By the time the Ixa’Takan recognized the tell-tale yellow charge building up around the man, it was too late. The spell hit her full-force in the chest. She felt an electric surge spread out through her muscles, moving quickly down her spine and into her legs while also creeping through her arms. She felt a dull cramping in her limbs and her breathing became a more labored; such was the effect of Driln. By the time her sight refocused, the man was on the move again. He pulled a large sword from her back and with all his might threw it at Zanara like a boomerang. Wide-eyed, she rushed to tumble out of the massive weapon’s trajectory. Her opponent must be incredibly strong to weald his sword in such a manner, she thought. She knew she would have to be careful. She could feel the wind whoosh over her as the sword narrowly passed above and to the left, the crowd going crazy as she dodged the blade. The sword, having missed its mark, careened onwards until it barreled into the cage wall, illuminating the area with bright sparks and deafening everyone with a screech and clang. Her opponent was nearly on top of her by the time she spied him again. Now he charged, second blade raised high for an aerial assault. Zanara dropped her dart gun and quickly drew her dagger in meager defense. She doubted whether she could parry such a strong stoke from above. As the man leapt to make his strike, she dived to the right, and slashed at the man’s side with the dagger. The Driln spell slowed her reaction and her limbs felt so heavy. She winces as the man’s sword tore through her sleeve and sliced into her arm. The sight of blood awoke further carnal savagery in the audience. It ran down Zanara’s arm freely and soaked the side of her bodice. She gritted her teeth in pain, but chose to press the attack. In a flurry of motion, quicker than most would manage even with the Driln spell, she slashed at the man with the dagger, hoping to get in one or two wounds, knowing full well the poisoned blade would make even a minor wound a serious blow against her opponent. This was all well and good, but she knew she’d have to increase the distance between them once more. The question was: how? Her eyes flicked downward to the small stones and grit making up the cage floor. Thinking quickly, she rolled backwards, her arm screaming in pain. She scooped up a fistful of grit as she did and cast it towards her opponent’s eyes. She prayed this would buy her the time she needed and she set off towards one of the outcroppings of stone, hoping to hide behind it before her opponent could clear his vision. It was a dirty trick, but one the crowd of pirate's and rogues appreciated. |
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| PG 17 | Jul 28 2009, 03:12 AM Post #6 |
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Uber Monk
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Mikeil’s sword slashed through the woman’s sleeve, cutting a gash in her arm. However, in the same movement, the woman cut at Mikeil’s side, nicking it. Mikeil stumbled back, the blade had more bite than he thought. The woman continued her assault, hitting Mikeil slightly in his left shoulder and his metal arm. A few sparks flew and Mikeil stumbled back another step. As he did so, the woman rolled backwards, and flung some dirt at his face. He brought his arm up instinctively, but still some of the dust hit his face, agitating his eyes. He blinked, catching a few glimpses of the woman as she ran off into another area of the cage. Deciding to ignore her for the present, he wiped his eyes off carefully. Once he had attended to his eyes, he looked over his wounds. They were stinging pretty badly, and a black pus was seeping out. “Tch...poison...” Mikeil muttered. He took his sword and cuts around the wounds a bit, hoping to bleed out some of the poison. He squeezed the wounds as well, making a small hissing noise at the pain. He had managed to stave off the poison for a few minutes, but it wouldn’t be long before he would feel the effects. He had to kill her now while he still had the energy. He sheathed his long sword, and walked over to where his larger sword was lying. He picked it up and spun it around a few times, re-adjusting to the weight. Shifting his eyes over to where they had been fighting previously, he saw what looked like some form of gun lying on the ground. Mikeil knew that a ranged weapon would give him problems, so he walked over and smashed his boot onto the gun. It was a strong piece of equipment, whatever it was, so it took a couple tries to break it apart. Hoisting his sword and trying to ignore the effects of the poison, which were already starting to slow him down, he walked off in search of his opponent. He wasn’t sure where she had ran too...By this point she probably had a trap or two waiting. Squinting in the dim light, he cast around, tensing himself for the next encounter. |
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| Necromancer Sargoth | Aug 4 2009, 07:52 AM Post #7 |
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Affably Evil
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Zanara rested her back against the cold, hard surface of the rocky, breathing heavily. The pain in her arm gnawed at her mind with every passing moment, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the blood loss from the wound would become a serious issue. However, none of that would matter if her opponent eviscerated her within the next few moments. She listened for him, but heard no footsteps of pursuit. The crowd made her task difficult, for they grew restless as the combat lulled. Zanara might have admired their bloodlust, had the situation been different. Right now, annoyance rivaled even the pain in her arm. How easy it would be for her to slay them one by one, once she was released from this prison. There could be no mistaking the sound of Mikeil retrieving his cumbersome sword from its resting place in the gravel. The metal scraped along as he lifted it, knocking stones and bits of broken bone away as it dragged along the ground. The sword could probably cleave Zanara in two, if the man had the strength to swing it properly. She doubted he could, if the poison continued to eat away at his vitality. Still he did not come, and the crowd began to boo now. Zanara heard a curious sound next, metal grinding against the gravel. She wondered what could be causing the sound. Was Mikeil jumping up and down? It seemed unlikely, but who knew what he had in store. The thought that he must be waiting for her to make a move suddenly dawned on her. She would have to, at this rate. The impatient crowd began to grow treacherous. One of the men shouted out, “She’s over there, ya fool! Behind the rock!” The Ixa’Takan narrowed her eyes in anger, not that the spectators could notice. She was out of time. Now she would have to act. Her hand closed around the moonstone hanging round her neck; it felt smooth and cool against the palm of her hand. She darted from behind the outcropping. “Moons, destroy my enemy,” she shouted, other hand extending outwards to direct the spell towards Mikeil. The small gem gave off a green light now, warming in Zanara’s clenched fist. Green light enveloped her and cast the cage in an eerie light. The Noxi spell worked well, poisonous gas belching forth from the ground surrounding her opponent. The noxious cloud would burn his lungs and eat at his flesh, adding more potency to the poison already within Mikeil’s veins. Satisfied that her spell had paid off, and with a more appreciative crowd, Zanara drew her dagger once again, and prepared to meet an angry foe. These next few moments would spell life or death for the both of them. |
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| PG 17 | Aug 11 2009, 04:43 AM Post #8 |
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Uber Monk
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“Damn, where is she...” Mikeil muttered, casting around the cage again. As he did so, one the spectators called out, indicating a rock a few metres in front of him. “Hm...Hiding, eh? Well, we’ll see about that...” Mikeil stabbed his large sword into the ground, and brought his hand up, focusing the Moonstones in his arm. “Moons! Give me Streng-!” Suddenly, the woman darted out from the rock. Surprised, Mikeil tried to re-direct the Electri spell to hit her, but instead it slammed into the ground between them, throwing up rocks and other debris. Almost immediately after, green smog started welling up in the ground beneath Mikeil. Hastily, he covered his mouth with his right hand, grabbing his sword with his left. Already the smog was burning his skin, and seeping into his lungs. Gathering his waning strength, he staggered forward, dragging his sword along the ground with him. His breathing was ragged, and it was getting hard to see. Knowing his large sword would be more hindrance than help at this point, he dropped it, drawing his long sword. Standing erect, he looked in front of him, to the woman in front of him. She stood poised, waiting for him, dagger in hand. She was good with those things, but regardless of skill, it was still a dagger. His strength was pretty much gone, but in a few minutes it wouldn’t matter. Mikeil charged at the woman, aiming a sword blow right at her mid section. However, right before he made the strike, he feinted right, bringing his sword up and then down, aimed right at the woman head. |
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| Necromancer Sargoth | Aug 18 2009, 12:10 AM Post #9 |
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Affably Evil
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There was little time for Zanara to react. Her opponent failed to succumb to the poison, and now he charged. She readied her dagger, but knew the trouble she was in. She hoped he would be weak enough to take on. Her hopes were dashed as his sword rose up into the air to strike her down. She parried with the dagger, both hands rushing to the hilt of the small blade, but the power was overwhelming. She moved to fall away from the oncoming weapon. Her reflexes still sluggish from the driln spell, she tripped in the gravel and fell back, down onto the rough gravel floor of the arena. He had her now; there was little else she could do. Except one thing. Dagger still gripped in her hand, she flipped the blade quickly. Her skin went numb as it gripped the poisoned edge of the dagger. She threw the knife as deftly as she could manage from the ground, praying it would strike her foe. It was a desperation maneuver, and all she had left. |
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| PG 17 | Aug 25 2009, 06:13 AM Post #10 |
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Uber Monk
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Time seemed to slow a bit, as Mikeil sword moved downward. The woman fell backwards, and Mikeil’s strike missed, his sword smashing into the ground. He dropped one knee to the ground, the poison finally numbing him. He heard a whistling noise, and something cut into his right arm. It was getting hard to see, the poison seeping through his body was working pretty quickly now. Mikeil stabbed his sword into the ground, and leaned on it. He didn’t know what would happen now. Who had won? Both of them were pretty much out...Mikeil tried to stand up, to look over the crowd, see if any change had happened. His hearing was starting to go too, all his senses were starting to lose cohesion. He tried to pull himself up again, but fell over, his vision slowly clouding over. He didn’t have much time to think before falling unconscious, only to wonder if the poison would kill him or not. |
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2:37 PM Jul 11