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Tyrant's Challenge; Boss Battle
Topic Started: Jan 2 2012, 12:29 AM (796 Views)
Daiohma
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The Ice Fang
This battle will take place in a makeshift wooden coliseum in the Nasr desert.
Posters have been put around inviting the strong to test their power in a battle for gold.


---

The harsh sand storm blew across the desert as Kikiora reached the top of a sand dune.
In the distance she could make out the coliseum that she had been searching for.
She reached into her pouch and took out a folded poster, As Kikiora looked over the advertisement a smirk appeared across her face.
She could not read the whole thing, yet the words she could got her excited.
''Test your strength, the strongest fighters welcomed!'' Kikiora repeated the words that interested her the most.

She shoved the poster back into her pouch, and took out a small knife.
With one quick swipe of the knife she cut the rope that she had tied around her own waist.
The rope fell to her feet, as she put her knife away.
The hunter then took a moment to stretch as she turned her head to look behind her.
''My best so far.'' She grinned.

Behind her was a long trail in the sand as far as the eye could see.
The rope that she had around her waist had been tied to a large rock that she had pulled along with her.
Kikikora narrowed her eyes as she looked at the large rock, then like the wind she punched the rock with all her might.
She kept her fist against the rock for a moment, a small trail of blood dripped from her fist.
Another smirk came across her face as she removed her fist from the rock.
The hunter licked the blood from her fist as she look at the crack she had caused.

Satisfied that she was ready for a fight she walked the short distance to the coliseum.

~

Kikiora walked past the large entrance, it was not what she was expecting.
The whole coliseum looked as if it was made from some kind of thin wood, not stone or iorn like she had seen before.
The floor was just the desert and to top was all open.
This area was too small to have a good fight, yet she noticed no one was fighting yet.

Many people from all over had turned up to take part in this 'contest'.
A lot of strong looking fighters had already caught Kikiora's eyes, however it was what they were all talking about that interested her that little more.
''What do you think the big prize it?'' One man covered in armor from head to foot asked another man.
''I think someone said it was gold.'' The other man answered as he looked over his sword.

Kikiora was not interested in gold, she was here for two reasons.
First and foremost she wanted to test her power against everyone that had turned up, after all the poster was calling for the strongest fighters and she was not going to leave until she was the last standing.
As she thought about how she was going to have fun she remembered the words Razar told her before she was dropped off in the desert,
Not only was she testing her own power but she had to keep an eye out for anyone that could match up to her Captain.

~

The last few competitors entered the coliseum just as the door closed.
The room went silent as every ones attention focused on a small balcony above the main doors.
A small figure walked out onto the balcony and over looked the crowd of fighters.

''I am pleased to see so many of you here today.'' His old voice called out across the crowd.
''I am Tyrone T. Tyrant senior, welcome to my game!''

The old man looked down across the many faces, ''A grand prize to the last man or woman standing!''
The main doors slowly opened to the Coliseum as a guard stood to one side with a large metal box which had a small slot in the top of it.

''Just pay the entrance fee and enter for the fight of a life time!'' The old man said as he turned and walked back into the shadows,
''We do not cover food or supply weapons, time of fight may vary and you may experience fatal injuries or death.'' Tyrant muttered at great speed to himself with a laugh.

Kikiora watched as crowd moved into the main room, She was not happy that she did not see the part about a fee on the poster.
A man from yafutoma was coming up from behind her, focused on the small bag in his hands as he was adding up his fee.
The second he was along side Kikiora she swung her arm out without a care as her fist slammed into the man's face, knocking him out cold.
The bag flew into the air and landed into Kikiora's opened hand.

---

Boss battle is a go!
First post is for your character to arrive and enter the coliseum.

Time limit for each post is seven days after the last post is made.
Fail to post and your character will be killed.

Post order is same as the sign up,
Daiohma, Bear then Raiu.
Edited by Daiohma, Jan 2 2012, 12:30 AM.
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Jet Blackbeard
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aka Bear
The whine of an engine echoed throughout the vast expanse of sand as the skiff sped across the desert, raising a cloud of sand in its wake. The small craft traversed the boundless dunes under the skilled hand of its driver. To anyone born in the city Nasr's great desert would have seemed a veritable wasteland in which to become hopelessly lost. But to the former caravan leader who piloted the skiff the path before him was as clear as any city street.

The skiff itself was small but lavishly appointed. Its driver sat exposed beneath the sweltering sun as he piloted the craft but the carriage behind him was insulated against the heat. Its interior was cool and comfortable, its bar stocked with all manner of beverages with which its occupant could quench his thirst. Such luxuries were easily afforded to such a man as he after all.

And yet the chilled loqua and sliced fruit that had been prepared for him went untouched. Just as the driver concentrated on their path through the desert so too was his passenger concerned with what they would find at its end. His mind wandered to that encounter even as he gazed out of the carriage's window and the stark scenery as it slid past.

~

The skiff coasted to a stop outside of the crude wooden arena that had been erected in the middle of the desert, seemingly overnight. The driver hastened to open its door to allow his passenger to exit. He averted his eyes, staring at the sandy ground, as a large man clad in ceramic armor stepped down from the carriage to regard the shoddy affair in which he would do battle.

The driver did not know the name of his passenger but he had an inkling as to who he was. And if his intuition proved true then this was a man to be feared. "I shall await your triumphant return master." He said respectfully as he rose, still keeping his eyes downcast.

The armored man did not reply or even turn to look at the driver. Instead he continued to stare in the direction of the wooden facade before him. His face was hidden behind an ivory mask but the driver got the impression that the man was grinning.

~

The armored man was known to the world as Razul Bin Falah. Lately he had also assumed the clandestine title of Neo Lord Bane. Either name would have invoked fear and respect in the underworld but today he wished to remain nameless. Today he was just another warrior vying for the title of strongest.

Ordinarily Razul would not have appeared in a public place such as this in either of his incarnations. He seldom ventured beyond his holdings, instead llowing his underlings to act in his name. But today was different. There was a task before him that he wished to accomplish with his own hands. And that task was to emerge from this gladiatorial challenge as its undisputed champion.

The reasons behind his actions were twofold. First, Razul was aware that he still had quite a few detractors within the Zivilyn Bane organization, men who did not believe that he was worthy of the title Lord Bane. While it would be simple to silence those men through any number of underhanded methods it would be much more to his benefit to gain their respect and support legitimately. Winning in a contest of strength would go far in accomplishing this.

Secondly, and more personally, Razul wanted to claim the title of strongest purely for personal reasons. Although still a formidable fighter he was no longer a young man. Competing against other fighters who were younger and stronger than him was a way of testing himself and taking measure of his current level of skill. In the cutthroat world in which Razul was now immersed knowledge of what he was and was not capable of would be vital.

With a fierce grin of determination and anticipation Razul began striding towards the entrance to the arena.

~

Approaching the entrance Razul sneered at the wooden box and the price he was requested to pay in order to compete. "A pittance." He snorted. Reaching into a hidden pocket he withdrew a handful of gold coins and dropped them into the box's slot, heedless of the amount he was paying. A sum equaling more than three times the entry fee tinkled down atop the pile of money within. Razul had been wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice even before ascending to the pinnacle of Arcadia's most influential guild of thieves. For a man in his position gold was as plentiful as the grains of sand beneath his feet.

With his way paid and victory lying before him like another treasure waiting to be claimed Neo Lord Bane entered the arena.
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Daiohma
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The Ice Fang
The doors closed behind Kikiora as she looked around the coliseum.
The walls, even if they were made from wood were far too high to escape from.
Yet if someone really wanted to they could probably break down the walls, something she knew she could do if she needed too.
However this was not something she would need to do, in her mind she was the only one who was going to be standing at the end of the fight.
Her grudge against men and how she was treated as a child was too deep for her to let any man run free.

As she waited for a sign that the fight was to start she checked out her opponents, each one looking stronger than the last.
Some covered from head to foot in armor while overs opted to show of their muscles.
While having a quick look around she noticed that she seemed to be the only female in the area she was standing in.
She was sure there was probably a few others but for now she was focusing on making every man in her sight wish that they had never laid eyes on her.

Just then from above the main door the old man appeared once more.
His face covered from the shadows, yet his bright purple coat was clear.
As the light hit him it reflected from the large amount of gold that covered his purple coat.
As Kikiora watched him she caught a glimpse of a gold letter 'T' from the area above his head.
''Gold!'' He called out across the sandy coliseum,
''And lots of it, for the last one standing!'' He reached out with a long wooden staff which he used to hit a bell.

The second the ringing of the bell called out across the coliseum people turned on each other.
The silent desert became filled with the sound of battle, people shouting as weapons clashed against one another.

Kikiora took no time at all in locating an opponent, it just happened to be whoever was closest to her the second the bell rang out.
It was a Valuan executioner, without the Armada he had traveled to show that he was just as strong without the back up from his old team.

He felt himself being turned around by someone other than himself.
He turned his head to see a hand on his shoulder turning him around, face to face with Kikiora.

The fact that the Ixa'taka woman picked him took the man by surprise for a second.
Just enough time for her to take her hand away from him now that he was facing her and change her hand into a fist.
Kikiora swung a punch at the executioner's helmet, striking him in the side of his head.

He found himself stumbling to one foot as his helmet twisted.
Kikiora removed her fist, leaving a small indent in the man's helmet.
She removed her other hand from her pouch, a red glowing light could be seen from within.

Kikikora had already cast Increm on herself, and it would not be the last time for this fight.
Being a member of the now lost 'Increm tribe' for many years had helped her adopt her body to take the magic.

The executioner removed his helmet, tossing it to the ground.
''You dirty little....!!!'' He started to shout as he raised his weapon towards Kikiora.

As he swung the blade like claw at her she jumped up and landed on the arm blade, her years of living in the jungle were demonstrated in the way she stood balanced on the weapon.
Before the man knew what was going on she jumped from the weapon and delivered her knee into his now unprotected head.
His head turned as the knee slammed into it's target, his teeth shattered as blood was flung from his mouth.

The executioner fell onto his side with just enough energy to look up at Kikiora who was now standing over him.
The look on her face was a murderous look of possession, no emotion yet her eyes seemed filled with pleasure that she had taken down the large armored man so easy.
She reached down and ripped the arm weapon from the executioner,
''Enslave this!'' She said just as she slammed the weapon down into the man's leg, impaling him to the spot.

He let out a cry of pain as the weapon cracked the bone within his leg.
Kikiora then raised her foot and slammed it down hard against the Valuan's head.
It seemed to knock him unconscious which was not what she wanted, so she repeated the kick again.
This time she grinned as the sound of the man's cracking jaw filled her ears.

She looked around, many people were fighting close by, but what caught her attention was a group of men who were staring at her in shock.
Kikiora reached into her pouch as she made her way towards the men.

~

As the fighting was going on six guards had made their was into the coliseum.
The first was the same man who had taking the gold at the door.
He was wearing black armor along with two others who followed him to one side of the coliseum, while the other three in white armor went to the other side.

Spotting the dead executioner two of the guards in Black armor wandered over to him.
One checked the man as if to make sure he was dead while the other guard took out a note pad.

While this was going on one of the guards in white wondered over to a man who had been left for dead.
''Can you get up?'' The guard asked.
''You can carry on or go now, it's your choice.''
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Jet Blackbeard
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aka Bear
Razul gazed up at the gold-adorned fellow with amusement. He was clearly behind this bloodsport and probably fancied himself a man of wealth and influence. Razul broke out in a fit of maniacal laughter at this, causing a few of his opponents to start with surprise.

Razul knew without a shadow of a doubt that, should he have desired it, he could have caused this person's ruination with little or no effort on his part. All it would take would be to make his displeasure known to one of his underlings and the good Mister Tyrant would vanish into the depths of the underworld, never to be seen nor heard from again.

That was true power. The ability to bring down stronger men, more influential men or wealthier men through a potent combination of corruption and treachery without ever getting your own hands dirty in the process.

But tonight that's exactly what Razul was about. He wanted to bloody his own hands for a change and Tyrant had provided him with the perfect setting and opportunity. All that was left to do was to claim what was surely his.

Victory.

~

As the bell sounded Razul found himself being set upon by a trio of weaklings, clearly looking to better their odds by ganging up on the one opponent whom they could never dream of bringing down on their own.

"Insolent mongrels! Come at me then!" Razul challenged them. His voice rumbled from the depths of his mask, booming across the arena.

The men facing him seemed to hesitate for a moment until one of them finally found the nerve to charge forward. He leapt at Razul, the short sword in his hand seeking blood.

The keen blade drove downward towards Razul's head. In a flash of movement it was turned aside as Razul's hand came up, wielding one of his spike-studded knuckles. His opponent's blade lodged between two its thick spines and was nearly pulled from his grip as Razul swept it aside. At the same time his other hand, identically armed, rose into the man's stomach. He coughed up blood as the spikes pierced his flesh and his body cleared the ground by nearly a foot, propelled upwards by Razul's powerful arm.

With an almost casual gesture Razul cast the dying man's body aside and faced his fellows. A second man was rushing at him now with a pair of jambiya poised like the fangs of a snake. Razul stepped forward and drove his armored fist into the man's face. His skull shattered under the impact, killing him instantly, but his momentum carried his lower body forward. His feet slid out from under him and his limp form fell to the ground at Razul's feet.

Seeing his fellows so easily dispatched at Razul's hands the third man wisely chose to run away. He disappeared into the crowd, obviously wishing to waylay a less brutal opponent.

"Hmph, such weakness was unbecoming in an opponent anyway." Razul snorted. He flicked blood and bowels from the tips of his weapon and went in search of his next victim.
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Daiohma
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The Ice Fang
Kikiora stopped a few feet away from the group of men who all looked to her as if they were from Nasr.
It was clear to see that they knew one another and had entered as a team.
Two of them had short swords while the third had a long spear, a weapon she was familiar with.

As she removed her hand from her pouch once more it was followed by another flash of red light.
She grinned for a moment as she felt the power of the Increm spell enhance her power even more.

No sooner as the spell was cast the Nasr man with the spear made a brake for her, the long weapon pointed directly at her chest.
Expecting at least one of them to dash at her Kikiora had already pushed her foot into the sand to help take the impact.
With a quick sideways movement she let the spear slid past her body, missing by only inches.
The Spear wielding man came to a stop as his body collided into Kikiora's.

The impact was hard as she did not move at all from the clash.
Within second she already had her hands around the spear as she swung her head against the man's own.
A splatter of blood shot into the air as the clash knocked the Nasr man out cold, falling to the ground.

No sooner as his body hit the sand the other two both ran in to help out their friend, but now Kikiora was armed with a spear.
AS the first of the two men approached her she swung the weapon around using the blunt end to whack him around the head, only causing him to lose balance for a moment.
This gave her time to spin the spear into the air, sending it high above their fight.

The hunter dashed at the Nasr man before he gained his balance, sweeping her leg out to knock him over.
Now down in the sand she sat over him, using her legs to pin his arms down.
He was helpless as he did not have the strength to push her away from him.

The last of the group was now behind Kikiora while this was going on, a blind spot as she did not see him, or so he thought.
He quickly raised his short sword ready to deliver a fatal blow to the Ixa'taka woman's back.
However before he knew what had happened the spear had fallen back down and right into Kikiora's hand which she quickly swung behind her at an angle, right into his neck.
The Nasr man stood there impaled in the neck until Kikiora let go of the spear which then he fell backwards, dead.

She then turned her attention to the last of the three men who she had pinned down.
It seemed that the other fighters in the arena where all to busy fighting one another which gave her a chance to take her time with this one.
She reached into her pouch and retrieved her Green Moon Stone.

Grasping it in her hand she placed it over his head.
With a wicked smile she rubbed the glowing stone, ''Noxi...'' She muttered under her breath.
AS her spell was cast she stood up and gave the man one final kick to the crotch, causing him to turn over in pain.
''A slow death for you..''

Kikiora then walked away, looking for her next opponent,
''Such weak men, it's pathetic!''

~

Two of the white armored guards came running over to the aid of the three Nasr men who they had just watched battle a woman from Ixa'taka.
''Are you ok?'' The first guard asked the man who was rolling around the sand in pain.

''I...I need Curia...'' He only just managed to say.
''I'm sorry but we can not and will not supply any magic or weapons.'' The guard replied as he helped the man to his feet.

The second guard in white had already helped the unconscious man up and was moving him out from the arena as he spotted the third man from Nasr who was in a pool of his own blood with part of the spear still in his neck.
''Over here!'' He called out as he raised his arm to get the attention of one of the guards in black armor.

The guard came running over to remove the body.

~

''Thank you for taking part, better luck next time.'' The guards in white sent the survivors on their way from the 'lobby' of the coliseum.

The other guards in Black could be seen here too, yet they were taking the dead into a small wooden room.
''Ok check this one over too!'' A guard told two others as they put the body on a small table.
They checked the pockets of the dead man, not leaving anywhere unchecked.

''Got a small pouch here!'' A guard opened the pouch to count the gold.
''That Tyrant sure knows how to scam people out of their gold.'' Another laughed.
Edited by Daiohma, Jan 7 2012, 02:52 PM.
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Jet Blackbeard
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aka Bear
Razul strode across the arena with determination. All around him people were fighting and dying but none of the competitors he had yet seen suited him. "Weaklings." He breathed through his ivory mask.

His path was blocked by a pair of men locked in mortal combat. One of them, who had his back turned to Razul, was Nasrean judging by his clothing and the shamshir that he wielded. But his opponent wore the iron plate mail of a Valuan. His broadsword was already bloodied from an earlier confrontation and he clearly had the upper hand over his current rival. This fight was almost over.

Sadly for the two men it would end even earlier than anticipated. Razul wished to pass and they were in his way.

Without breaking stride Razul swept his left arm outward and bashed the Nasrean across the side of the head with his spiked knuckle, brushing him aside as if he were a mote of dust fleeing before the broom. The Nasrean's sword skittered across the sandy ground as he fell, unable to rise again. Whether he was unconscious or dead was not clear. Razul wasn't concerned with his condition.

"What...you..." The Valuan soldier sputtered as his faltering opponent was suddenly substituted with the armored form of Razul Bin Falah. He hesitated for but a moment, his sword hanging loosely in his gauntleted hand, and that was all the opportunity Razul needed. The grips of his Iron Maidens swiveled in the palms of his hands as he clapped his arms together before him. The Valuan's helmet was caught between their spiked faces as if in the jaws of a mighty beast.

Under the pressure of Razul's strong arms the soldier's helmet collapsed and his skull shattered. His body fell limply to the ground and Razul trod upon it in his haste to pass. "Consider yourself fortunate Valuan." He snarled. "Death at my hands is the highest honor one of your ilk can attain."

~

As he stalked the arena Razul suddenly flinched under an unsuspected blow. He spun around to see a lanky man with a painted face laughing at him from nearby. In the sand at his feet lay a small dagger, the very weapon that had glanced off of his armor only a moment before. And in the painted man's hand were a pair of identical weapons, clearly marking him as the guilty party.

"I commend your bravery." Razul Bin Falah awarded him. "Even as I consign your soul to Hell!"

As Razul started towards him the laughing man's hand lashed out, releasing one of the daggers. The second was launched immediately afterwards with a wicked backhanded throw. The first blade flew towards Razul's chest and was swatted aside by one of his Iron Maidens but the second arched in low and struck him in the leg.

The thick hide armor that sheathed his legs prevented the blade from penetrating too deeply but the dagger's thin tip pierced it just enough to draw blood. Razul ignored the nagging pain for the moment and continued to advance on his now-unarmed opponent.

But just as Razul came within striking distance the clownish man's opposite hand came up before his face, a small oil lighter in its grip. The clown exhaled strongly across its open flame and a gout of fire leapt from his mouth towards Razul's face.

Razul backpedaled in surprise. The clown laughed and pointed at him as his other hand also rose, displaying another trio of throwing knives. "Looks like I made a fool of you!" He mocked. "And coming from a clown that's pretty bad!"

The clown stood ready to humiliate Razul again and, for but a moment, it appeared that he had given him pause. Razul dropped one of his Iron Maidens and reached down to pluck the dagger from his leg. His eyes narrowed in anger when he saw that it was wet with his own blood.

Razul cast the dagger down angrily, causing the clown to smile malevolently at him. But when Razul's hand came up again it brought with it his Guillotine. Casting his arm out towards the clown he launched its curved and wickedly sharp blade straight towards his throat.

The clown cartwheeled to the side, easily avoiding the attack. "Surely you can't be serious." He guffawed.

"Deadly serious." Razul grunted as he gave a tug on the steel chain connected to the Guillotine. It came arching back to him like a boomerang, neatly severing the clown's head from his shoulders on its return flight.

The clown's head toppled into the sand. Its lips were set in a perpetual grin even in death. "And yet I have the last laugh." Razul taunted the departing spirit of his opponent.

Razul collected his weapons and set out to find his next victim. He paused only long enough to collect the fallen clown's lighter and the small flask of whiskey he'd used to fuel his fiery breath. "These might prove useful." Razul muttered to himself, pocketing the items.
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Daiohma
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The Ice Fang
Kikiora stepped over the body that had fallen at her feet which were now covered in the blood of the Yafutoma man who had tried to take her on.
His neck had been snapped by her hands after he attempted to take her down with his katana which she now held in her hand.

''Such a lovely weapon, yet so light.''
She said as her eyes scanned across the blade until they reached the tip.
At this moment her eyes moved from the tip of the katana and towards her next target, a woman dressed in bright clothing.
She was from Mid-Ocean and had just defeated her own opponent, a large man who was on the ground at her feet.
His sword, a huge weapon which matched the size of the woman was on the ground next to him.

His eyes were burning red, it would of seemed that the woman had kicked up some sand to blind him for a moment.
Kikiora watched as the woman raised her own weapon, a small dagger above her head.

''I can't.....'' She said to the man, ''Please just go.''
The man smiled knowing that she was about to let him go, yet his mind was set on going for his sword and slicing her in two.

''Sure, you win!'' He lied to her,
''I'll be going now.'' As he spoke a guard in white armor got ready to move in.

Just then the large man rolled over and picked up his sword, spinning around ready to slice the foolish woman.
Just he stopped and stared.

Her face was in shock as she dropped her dagger and reached for her stomach.
A trail of blood dripped to the ground as she and the man looked at the long blade that had sliced though her body.

With the last of her strength she turned around to see Kikiora a few feet away, retracting her arm that had thrown the katana.
''You had won you stupid girl!'' Kikiora yelled in anger.

She started to run towards them and as the woman from Mid-ocean fell to her death Kikiora leaped over her, delivering her foot to the large man's face.
The kick only knocked him back a few inches, he was after all one of the biggest men there.

''Ha, you think you can beat me?'' He mocked as he took a hold of his sword and stood it besides him.
The blade was almost the height of Kikiora, which was impressive to her.

Without warning he swung the sword at her.
It's size and weight proved to be a disadvantage as it was easy to see every move and predict where the sword would land.
Kikiora moved out of it's path with ease, yet grinned as this guy did not care about anything but how strong his weapon was.

Each time the blade slammed into the sand Kikiora got one or two hits on him with her fists and feet.
''Your a strong one.'' She mocked the man as she started to get board of his useless attempts at attacking her.

Kikiora had decided it was time to move on, and that this man had to die.
Standing legs apart she dug her feet into the sand and then put her arms out to her sides as if to make herself into an easy target.

''What are you, stupid?'' The man laughed as he raised the huge weapon above his head.
He swung the sword down at Kikiora, but just as the blade was about to reach her head she moved her hands in as if she was going to clap.

''What the...?'' The man was taken by surprise as Kikiora had caught his sword between her hands.
''Let go!'' He shouted as he felt the sword being pulled from his grip.
With only two tugs at the sword Kikiora had pulled it free from the man and quickly turned it on him.

''What a shame, it's lighter than I thought.'' She joked as she moved it around with only one hand after watching this large man struggle with using two.
''That's what I was looking for.'' Kikiora smirked as the large man's expression turned to fear.
In an instance she swung the blade around and sliced the man in two.

Kikiora looked over the new weapon,
''Much bigger than the last.'' She told herself as she turned her free hand into a fist.
She punched the blade watching it as a small crack appeared,
''Shame it won't last long.''

~

''Enter!'' Tyrant replied to the knock at his door.
''We got some more gold sir.'' One of the guards in black told him as he place several sacks on the table.
''Good, good!'' He picked up some gold and started to stack it on the table.

The guards left Tyrant to count the gold,
''I have never seen someone who loves gold so much!'' One told another as they went on their way.

''Look at all this!'' Tyrant rubbed a gold coin against his check,
''Much more than last time!''

He then put the gold down and walked over to the back of the room,
''Soon things will be back to they way they should be!''
He pulled a lever causing wooden panels in the wall to twist around, reveling a set of iorn bars.
A pair of eyes watched him as he sat back down to count his gold,
''Isn't that right, 'son'' Tyrant smiled.
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Jet Blackbeard
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aka Bear
"Hey, that's the guy!" An angry voice shouted from nearby. Razul turned to casually look over his shoulder at the speaker. It was the same man who had run away from him earlier. He had returned and he had brought backup with him.

Five men spread out to surround Razul. Each one was just as weak as the ones he'd slaughtered earlier but now there were more of them and they had been warned not to underestimate him. This fight would not be as easy as the last.

"Now we'll make you pay for what you did to my brothers!" The cowardly fighter called out, now emboldened by the presence of his allies.

"Hah! Of what worth are the lives of scum like you?" Razul bellowed. "But I am only too happy to pay your wages....in pain!"

Razul had been hoping to goad at least a couple of the men into attacking him prematurely but it seemed as if they were acting according to some strategy. Rather than rushing in they kept their distance.

"Oh I see how it is. They'll surround me, provoke me and then strike from behind the moment I try to attack one of them." Razul thought to himself. "They seek to cage me like an animal. But I am a thoughtful beast. I shant be bested so easily."

Razul's hand slipped up behind his back to grip the blade of his Guillotine. "Reeeearrgh!" Uttering a fierce warcry he leapt straight towards the coward from earlier. As he moved he pulled the heavy blade loose and dropped it into the sand behind him. To any observer it would appear that it had accidentally fallen in Razul's haste.

Razul ran forward, allowing the Guillotine's chain to unfurl behind him. The coward's eyes widened in fear and he shrank back before Razul's charge. As expected his cohorts closed in behind him to strike him down while his back was turned.

"Little moths. Come to my flame!" Razul roared. His feet skidded to a halt as he turned quickly to face the oncoming assailants. His hand gripped the Guillotine's chain and gave it a hard tug. The blade broke free from the sand and tore through the ranks of the men who stood between it and its owner.

One of the men howled in pain and collapsed as his leg was sheared off. A second suffered a deep slash to his ribcage and fell bleeding upon the sand. The third only received a modest cut upon his arm while the fourth leapt aside in time to avoid the blade entirely.

The three survivors stood in shock at what had just happened. How had this man turned the tide against them so quickly? He was still outnumbered three to one but their confidence had been badly shaken by the speed at which two of their numbers had fallen.

Before the men could mount another attack Razul caught the Guillotine's blade and immediately loosed it again. He swung it in a wide circle around him and the two men before fell as well, one with his throat slashed open and the other decapitated completely.

Now only the coward remained. Razul had his back turned to the man but he did not fear an attack. When he finally deigned to look at him the coward was groveling on the ground before him. A spot of wetness was even now blossoming upon the crotch of his pants.

"W,w,wait! I....please don't....." The coward pleaded. "I'll do anything! Just....please..."

"Fall on your blade." Razul responded coldly.

The coward looked up at him through wide eyes brimming with unshed tears. "What?" He asked, hoping that he'd heard Razul wrong.

He hadn't. "I said 'fall on your blade'." Razul repeated himself.

"No...I can't....please...." The coward began pleading again.

"You said anything!" Razul growled. "Oh, nevermind. I'll do it myself."

With that Razul reached down and grabbed the cowering man by the scruff of his neck and hoisted him off of the ground. "NOOOO!" He screamed. But his cries were in vain. He could only watch in horror as Razul slowly drove the spikes of his Iron Maiden into his gut.

Razul savored the look of fear and pain that blossomed on the coward's face. It was like a beautiful flower blooming right in front of him. His eyes widened to take in the sight and his lips curled into a sadistic grin.

When the life drained from the coward's face Razul dropped his limp form unceremoniously to the ground. "Never send a fool to task in your place." He chuckled. Allowing the coward to die by his own hand would have been even more amusing but Razul was not disappointed.

With more lives lost to his blade Razul had begun to feel a bloodlust building within him. He eagerly turned to seek out his next opponent.
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Daiohma
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The Ice Fang
Kikiora swung the huge sword, slamming it against the two men who had jumped her only moments ago.
The blow from the weapon sent them far across the arena, their bodies leaving long trails across the sand.
segments of the sword flew into the air as the weapon shattered on impact.

''That's more like it!'' Kikiora said to herself as she tossed the handle to the ground, satisfied that the large weapon was far too weak for someone like her to handle.
''That's some strength you have there little lady.'' A voice came from behind her.
She turned to face a large man wearing some king of fur and a helmet with horns.
However what had caught her eye was his weapon, a large metal hammer of great size.

The Viking took his hammer in both hands as he prepared himself for battle with the hunter.
''I'll make this quick, the heat here is unbearable!'' He mocked.

Kikiora had already placed her hand into her pouch, feeling the red Moon Stone with her fingers.
''Increm.'' She whispered to herself, feeling the power of the Moon Stone all over her body.
She could feel the power building inside of her, a feeling she was in love with.

Her obsession with her red Moon Stone and the Increm spell had been the reason she lost her tribe and ended up as a Black Pirate, but she would never want to stop now.
The Viking noticed the red glow and rushed towards her, lowering his hammer and using his fist instead.
His fist landed it's target, smacking Kikiora across her face.

Kikiora's head only moved a little to the side as a grin came across her face.
The punch hurt, there was no question about that.
In return Kikiora swung her fist at the Viking, slamming it against his face.

He too did not move much, just simple turned his head to the side, also with a smile.
''Let's make this interesting!'' He called out as he tossed his hammer behind him and took his fur gloves off.

~

''Tyrant, Sir.'' One of the guards in black said as he looked around the room for the competitions organizer.
''This room seems to of been built much better than the rest of the coliseum, don't you think?'' Another said as the two waited for a reply.

''What is it?'' The old man asked as he wondered towards them from the shadows from the back of the room.
The two guards put another large sack of gold on the table, ''That's about all of it.''

''How many are still here?'' He old man questioned as he picked up the sack of gold and flung it into a large pile of similar looking sacks.
''There are about ten or so still out there fighting.'' The first guard spoke up.
''Yeah, some real strong fighters. It will be hard to bet on a winner.'' The second added.

Tyrant sat down as he placed his bony fingers against each other,
''Inform them that the final round is about to start.'' An evil smile appeared across his face as he said these words.

The two guards nodded as they exited the room.
''With this I would say we are about half way there!'' Tyrant shouted across the room followed by a laugh.
A loud deep grunt answered him back from the shadows.

~

Kikiora stood over the fallen man as his blood dripped from her fists.
His own helmet laid in the sand drenched in his blood,
''You were almost a good fight.'' She mocked the dead man as she wiped the blood across her legs.

She looked at his hammer that was still standing from before the fight had started.
It was big and heavy, but without blades or spikes she was not really that interested.

''Who will be next?'' She asked herself as she looked around the arena.
She could see that there were not that many people still alive, and the weaker ones had already run away with the help of the guards in white.
''Such weak fools.'' She started to say just before she caught sight of a strong looking fighter.

She did not know who he was nor did she care, but from the way he was fighting she could tell that he would be a challenge.
Kikiora had never seen a weapon like his before, some kind of blade on a chain that he dragged across the sand, slicing people in two.
She decided then and there that he would be her next match, but before she could approach him a loud bell rang out across the coliseum.

The six guards entered, three stood the the left of the entrance as the other three stood to the right.
''Lady and gentlemen,'' On called out, taking note that Kikiora was the only 'lady' still standing.
''Tyrone T. Tyrant Senior would like to have a quick word with those of you who have made it this far.''

As the guard spoke Tyrant appeared once more on the balcony above the arena.
''Thank you one and all for taking part in this great competition.'' He raised his hands into the air and took a bow.
''Now is the part where I take my leave.''

A few of the remaining fighters looked around at one another confused,
''What about the prize?'' One shouted out.
''Yeah, I want my gold!'' Another called out to Tyrant.

Kikiora did not care about the prize, she just wanted this man to go so she could keep on fighting.

''Wait, your not going before we get our pay now are you?'' One of the guards asked.
''Yeah, you can't expect us to of worked for you for free!'' Another added.

''Ha, your gold?'' Tyrant laughed, ''It is all my gold now!''
''Your all fools, plain and simple!'' Tyrant turned his back on them all and returned into the shadows.

No sooner as he did a loud rumble could be heard.
Just then there was a large explosion right below the entrance to the coliseum which took out two of the guards and a few of the fighters.
Their bodies where flung into the air as the large explosions set of a row of smaller ones all around the side of the coliseum.
The thin wooded walls came crashing down, kicking up sand all around the arena.

As the sand settled back down the coliseum was no more, all that could be seen was a small yet sturdy looking ship slowly taking off into the air.
''So long! Thank you all for your lovely gold! hahaha.'' Tyrant waved from the deck of his ship.

The Boss will appear in my next post!
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Jet Blackbeard
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aka Bear
For the first time since the tournament had begun Razul found himself facing an opponent who could possibly pose a threat to him. He had been accosted by a pair of Yafutoman swordsmen. One of them was obviously not going to be an issue. He cowered behind the other, the sword he wielded trembling in his sweaty grip. But the other....

"I'm Toshiro the Cyclone, a proud member of the Tenkou!" The swordsman identified himself. "I fight here today to bring honor and glory unto my clan. Prepare to receive my blade!"

Razul looked the man up and down. He certainly seemed capable of attaining his goal. Toshiro wielded a worn but sturdy looking Suiran Blade and carried himself with the poise of one who was well acquainted with the battlefield. The many scars that covered his arms and chest provided proof of this.

"I dunno Shiro. This one looks kinda strong." The second man warned his fellow combatant. "Maybe we should leave him be for now."

Toshiro grinned as he replied but he never took his eyes off of Razul. "Don't worry about it Manzo. I'll win no matter what. And then we'll both get what we want."

"You'll be recognized as the champion." Manzo recited their goals wistfully. "And you'll give me the prize money. That's what you promised right?"

"That's right. And I always keep my word." Toshiro agreed. His next words were for Razul. "But in order for me to fulfill my vow I'm afraid I'm going to have to take your life!"

Razul guffawed loudly when he heard this, startling the two Yafutomans. Toshiro glared hotly at him and raised his blade. "You dare mock me?" He cried indignantly. But it was towards Manzo that his laughter was directed.

And the reason for his mirth was simple; the most powerful weapon in all of Arcadia had just fallen in his lap and Razul was well versed in its usage. His hand cast aside an Iron Maiden and slid beneath his armor. It came back grasping a heavy pouch that produced a metallic jingle when it was shaken.

"So it's money you're after eh?" Razul asked, holding the pouch aloft for Manzo to see. "This bag contains more than five hundred gold! Cast aside your allegiance with this man and join me! You stand to profit more at my side than at his!"

Toshiro snorted in disgust at such an offer. "You seek to drive us apart but it will avail you nothing!" But when he turned to seek Manzo's agreement he saw the pained expression on the other man's face and knew that he was considering the offer.

"Manzo! You can't seriously be thinking about turning against me!" Toshiro pleaded with his friend. His eyes darted between the other man and Razul. He was no longer certain he could trust Manzo and feared being stabbed in the back, literally and figuratively.

"But....but just think about it! I could feed my family for months with that much gold." Manzo sighed. He was uncertain of what he wanted to do now.

Toshiro turned around to reason with him face-to-face, foolishly taking his eyes off of Razul. "But I promised you the prize money! Will you cast aside my generosity in the face of this foreign dog's treachery?" Manzo considered his words and appeared to be on the verge of having a change of heart.

"Hah! That paltry sum cannot compare to the fortune I will bestow upon you!" Razul countered. Once again Manzo's heart was wrenched in two different directions. He was still weighing the options with Toshiro looking on nervously.

Razul ignored the open opportunity to strike the swordsman down while he was distracted. He was enjoying this little drama that he had inspired too much to see it end. Seeing the emotional pain that was being inflicted on these two men was just as satisfying as the physical suffering they would surely endure later.

"I'm sorry Shiro, I....." Manzo whimpered, finally making a painful decision. "My family...I have to..." A tear rolled down his cheek as he raised his blade, little more than a farming tool, against Toshiro.

"No, damn you!" Toshiro cried out in anguish. Against whom the curse was leveled was uncertain. Manzo's awkward attack was batted aside easily enough but left him open to Razul's ambush. "Guuuhh!" Toshiro grunted in pain as he drove his armored fist into the small of his back. The Iron Maiden's spikes pierced Toshiro's flesh, severing his spinal column.

"I'm sorry Shiro. I'm so sorry." Manzo wept as the lifeless body of his former ally fell at his feet. Then, turning his tear-streaked face to Razul, he asked for the reward he'd been promised.

"Yes, yes. You did well. You shall receive what is owed you." Razul answered. But instead of the money pouch he drew the blade of his Guillotine.

"No! You promised....." Manzo cried out in sudden terror as Razul cocked his arm back to launch the deadly weapon.

"You have earned this!" Razul retorted as Manzo turned to flee. "The wages of your betrayal are DEATH!"

Manzo had only run for a few yards before the Guillotine caught up to him. Even as his head toppled from his shoulders the rest of his body tottered forward a few more steps before it too fell to the ground.

Razul chuckled to himself while he reeled in the blade. He broke out into full laughter as he slung it back across his back. Today was certainly turning out to be an enjoyable one.

~

Razul's day soured just a little when Tyrant reappeared and revealed that the contest he was hosting was little more than a sham. As the arena collapsed around them all and their treacherous host made his getaway Razul was already plotting his revenge. Tyrant could not hide from his extensive network of spies and informants. He would be located within a few days. He would be captured and then be hauled in front of Neo Lord Bane to face the consequences of his actions.

Razul had to admit to himself that he wasn't yet certain what those consequences would be. Perhaps a slow and agonizing death by torture. Or perhaps he'd merely seize the man's assets and allow him to live on as a minion of the Zivilyn Bane organization. They could always use another insidious soul such as him in their ranks.

Whatever he would do would have to wait though. Razul still had a battle to win, prize or no prize, and he had the distinct feeling that it was far from over.
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