Battle Arena 6

[Dasheva]

Yes it is time. The old has run out, and made room for the new. Continue you feuds and fights.

*The double-doors of the huge domed building stood open, inside a sand covered arena filled the vast majority of the high roofed stone structure. To one side sat the bar. Behind a barman had thoughtfully placed a sign saying*

"Free Taint, and the like. Help yourself."

*Another, smaller, pair of doors had a sign above with the words*

"Infirmary, no violence please"

*And a third pair were labelled*

"Bed rooms, quiet please".

*On the far wall, stencilled in letters of liquid gold stood the Arena rules.*

"No one post kills.
Keep things varied and descriptive
Constantly escaping death is generally looked down upon unless the escapes are both imaginative and ingenius. If you are not prepared to risk death, do not enter.
Do not enter into ongoing fights unless you have been invited.
The Infirmary and Bed rooms are open to all.
The Building is self repairing but try to avoid too much structural damage.
Have fun."

If your looking for Battle Arena 5. Go here (http://www.ina-community.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=217740&perpage=30&pagenumber=1)

[Frish]

Frish lies asleep in the bedrooms, and probably will continue to do so for the duration.

I am just going to settle for survival.

[mik cauthin]

Mik watches the Arena with interest. He breifly wonders why he's sitting at the bar here drinking with Nev when the two of them should be beating each other to a bloody pulp. His attention is soon distracted when a pink elephant runs across the Arena floor, followed by a troop of somersaulting chimpanzees.

Mik looks down and sees hes wearing a clown costume, and is holding a flaming hoop. he gets up and walks into the Arena, waving the hoop at Nev, trying to entice him to jump through.

[Gatekeeper]

**looks and and marvels**

Wow, it's been a long time since I've seen this.

**gets that faraway look in his eyes**

I remember a time when Wynters and I were locked into a death battle, only to realized that we could not defeat one another. That duel was great, and the drinks afterward to dull the pain proved to be the nectar of the gods. Ahh, the memories.

[Rille]

Get lost :mad:

[Dasheva]

Ah, the hatred come anew form those that don't like this thread...amusing...

[Gatekeeper]

Originally posted by Rille
Get lost :mad:

Ahh, it's been a long time since I've gotten to imitate Jihad also, so I shall do it now.

*Yawn*

[Dasheva]

*Yawn*

:haha:

[billdo02]

walks into the bar, looks around and immediately falls asleep......*have to keep enough energy...just in case*
:p

[Nevman]

*Nevman looks up from his Taint to see mik waving his hoop at him. With a grin, he gets up, and runs towards it. Closing his eyes for the last few steps, Nevman offers up a prayer, and dives, not realising he has veered several feet to the side.

Rolling to his feet again once he hits the ground, Nevman turns arms outstretched as if for applause. One of his arms hits mik as he spins, knocking him into the hoop!*

[Rille]

*Breaks in as a huge storm who forces itself through a commoners narrow window, spiritus with lightning as a tail. He puts Nevmans chair on fire and remembers the old days from the not so distant past when innocent clouds swept across the sky. And then great sorrow hits him and once again he start to fade. Glory, to be reminded by the sun rays that hit the fog this morning. And the birds made a sound.*

[mik cauthin]

Mik falls into the hoop, and rolls to be standing again. He sniffs the air, smelling something burning. Licking his lips he looks around for the BBQ, thoughts of steak and sausages grilling over a naked fire running through his head.

Mik sees the flames coming off his amrs first, but it takes several seconds to register in his brain what is happening. Then the arm-waving starts and Mik runs in circles around the arena trying to put the fire out by imitating an ostrich trying to take off into flight

[Nevman]

*Nevman runs back to the bar, retrieves a bottle, and starts trying to pour it over the fire . . .

. . . liquid helps fires . . .

. . . Taint is liquid . . .

. . . 'help' is dependent on your point of view!* :D

BBQ rille? You add the firewood to the blaze, I'll supply the food! ;)

[Rille]

Originally posted by Nevman
*Nevman runs back to the bar, retrieves a bottle, and starts trying to pour it over the fire . . .

. . . liquid helps fires . . .

. . . Taint is liquid . . .

. . . 'help' is dependent on your point of view!* :D

BBQ rille? You add the firewood to the blaze, I'll supply the food! ;)

Fair enough :up:

[mik cauthin]

The flames leap higher and Mik runs even more frantically, his arms waving even more rapidly than before. As his arms gain speed, they disappear into a blur, and the fireball that is Mik levitates above the ground.

It rises above the Arena floor and circles for an instant before divebombing Nev who is standing there talking with Rille. The two go down in a bundle of fire, arms and legs.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Frowning slightly and feeling a small bead of swead form on his brow, Zaiyac jumps forward and rolls, avoiding the fireballs but knowing they are not gone. He dashes to the side, narrowly escaping another close call with the flames. Cursing himself for not being prepared, he turns to face the fireballs. He cups his hands, then thrusts them forwards, a white shimmering material flying forth. This white substance appears to be like fire made of crystal. Onwards it soars to meet the fireballs, hitting it and somehow covering and coating them. The glistening spheres of white float momentarily before striking the floor and shattering, the fragments dissapating quickly, taking the fireballs with them. Shaking his hands outs, Zaiyac turns to Dasheva and grins

Nearly bested by such a primitive thing. *snorts*

Pressing his index and middle fingers on both hands to his temples, Zaiyac closes his eyes momentarily, his body glowing slightly. As his hands come down, cross, then strike to the sides, 6 deep red objects streak away from him along he ground, leaving deep furrows from their incredible speed. To a well trained eye, the objects are actually huge thorns, a foot long and spinning in a drill like fashion. They blast on towards Dasheva

[Dasheva]

Ah, finally...

Dash watches the large thorns come closer, patiently waiting for the right time. When they are only feet away, Dash twists, and a gust of frosted wind pulls the thorns from there course, now spirialing up around Dash. Throwing his swords out into the torrent, the slice through the thorns as they come around. Letting the wind die, Dash sheaths his swords, and puts his hands to his shoulder. Pushed out from underneath the skin come several small spiked balls. Throwing them almost lazily at Zai, Dash grins.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac clenches his jaw slightly as his attack is dismantled. Seeing the quick glint of light on metal, Zaiyac snatches his weapons with blinding speed, swinging his left one around just in time to knock the first ball at a glancing angle. His right hand strikes downward, smashing another ball into the ground and feeling it burrow several inches into the earth. The third flicks across his cheek as he turns his head, leaving a small scratch. He desperately tries to jump out of the way as the last three fly into his chest. The metal meets with his shirt and crunch in on themselves before falling to the ground, but not before Zaiyac flies back a meter, crashing into the floor on his back. Kicking up onto his feet swiftly, his eyes flash fire

Touche my friend

Tucking his Derchaniks away smoothly, Zaiyac charges at Dasheva full speed, zig zagging slightly and jumping high, flipping forward to land upside down on top of Dasheva, supporting himself on his head. His hands flash white before a blast of white fire like material flies out (much like when he "escaped" from the fireball trap) and burning directly into Dash's head.

[Sariel Sedai]

OMFG! *runs in and pounces* GATE!

*runs in circles around dash then pounces on him*

oops... <.<
>.>

i didn't interrupt anything did i? *slinks off*

[Dasheva]

Slips smoothly to the side, pulling his blades from there sheaths, and spins silently on the spot. The air around his blade thickens before it as he spins around. Coming around, he steps towards Zai, and throws his shoulders around, pushing the air and blades into line with the ball of white fire. The air around the blades slow it down and send it to a jolting stop. The blades following close behind push it back in the direction it had been coming from with an even greater force.

Catch

OOC: Drau, if it isn't listed then leave it to the imagination. The arena around me has always changed to suit what my opponent saw. As long it is fair, make it what you want

[Zaiyac Drayon]

As Zai reaches the peak of the height from his blast-jump, he gracefully flips and dives back down to Earth. Smiling slightly to himself as his energy is returned back to him, he casually extends his forefinger, somehow landing on top of the energy. The firey look vanishes and it turns into crystal before shattering and plummeting as a million tiny sharp bits towards Dash. Zai falling quickly behind them.

[Dasheva]

A look of calm is quickly replaced by a look dreaded by many. The look on Dash's face turns from his usuall calm into that of pure hatred. Bringing his swords around, Dash watches Zai for a brief second. With not a bit of warning a wall of flames burst up, cutting down the arena. The edge of it only inches from Dash. His mind feels the heat, but never responds. The tiny shards of crystal melt within the inferno that Dash's rage has become.

[Nevman]

* . . . half a second later the mass of arms and legs explodes, showering liquid fire as the remains of the bottle of Taint Nevman had put on the ground only moments before catches light. Nevman and mik are flung to opposite sides of the arena.

Allowing himself to roll, Nevman puts out the flames on himself by smothering them in the dusty arena sand. Finally getting to his feet, his tunic finishing off it's own repairs to look meerly worn again, rather than non-existant

Shaking his head to try and clear the ringing, Nevman bends reality without thought. Turning slightly stiffly in his light (But definately fire-proof!) armour, he climbs onto the chocobo. Accepting the twelve foot lance from a squire, he waits a moment to see if mik will join the game . . . *

[mik cauthin]

Mik rolls and gets up, the flames having been put out. His robe is in tatters, and his armour underneath is visible through the remaining shreds.

He whistles for his trusty steed. Unfortunately the trusty steed is out with a hangover and his backup steed, a pig with a slight limp meanders into the arena.

Mik leaps on top and pulls out his 'lance'. Turning on the cattle prod, electricity courses up and down the length of it.

He spurs the pig on and it starts its terrifying shuffle forwards!

[Dasheva]

OOC: What not even an acnowledgement for me. Bleh to you, and bleh to me too. How you been Wynters?

[Sariel Sedai]

*tiny ball of fuzz pounces on wynters, landing on his shoulder and nuzzling his neck, purring furiously, mewling happily, patting him with her paws to make sure he's really there*

*feels the emotions along the bond and revels in them before sending back her own*

*little pink sandpaper tongue licks his cheek and a chiming voice sounds softly in his head* where have you been, oh warder of mine, you are as always sorely missed by the arena and even more so by me

[Lord_Mantis]

*After hanging suspended in the air for several weeks Mantis bursts into a thousand pieces of light, each twinkling with the refracted light from the torches. Then slowly the sparkles flow together to form Lord Mantis, who kneels clutching his chest, his ethereal wings extending haphazardly in either direction.*

Damn...what happened?

[Drauka]

Identical triplet halfmen enter the arena, shoulder to shoulder. They’re each dressed in identical black scalemail, leather overlapping small steel disks, and a golden nose ring. The one in the center, apparently the leader has many large belts, with tiny pockets scattered around them in disarray, and similar wristbands. The one marching along to his left has a small (Yet large for the 3.5’ midget) Steel buckler strapped to his left arm, and a small steel katana sheathed on the same side. The third has four short throwing spears in a sheath on his back, and a larger spear that he’s using as a walking stick in his left hand.

As they near the bar, the one with the katana, slashes the back of Drauka leg’s causing the surprised rogue to fall forward onto the others spear. The swordsman of the group removes his head, and the other who had remained out of this conflict applies potions and powders to the head, causing it to immediately shrink. He then puts it into a pouch at his belt and jumps up on the bar.

“My name is Sleth Salke. This,” with a gesture toward the swordsman cleaning his katana, “Is my brother Jahleer Salke.” “And the other,” with a wave of his hand to the spearmen, “Is Nathen Salke.” “Together we are the Salke brothers! Famous bounty hunter’s.” He reaches to yet another of his numerous pockets and drops a large bag on the counter. As it hits many large gold coins spill out. “Famous for gambling that is, fifty-fifty odds for any one man, who thinks he’s big enough to fight us three.”

The bounty hunters pick up the coins, and walk in unison to retrieve some taint while they wait for someone to accept their challenge. After a few minutes they begin to sing a rude song about a woman and a midget.

[Sariel Sedai]

*strides in* im terribly bored... anyone care to entertain me?

*unfastens the clasp of her cloak and hangs the heavy wool garment on a peg she conjures on the wall*

*her face subtly flickers and her skin's hue changes until its translucently white, her eyes piercing green jade, her long fingers stroking the dagger in her belt absently as her pupils narrow to slits and she sighs softly at the lessening of the strain of holding the illusion around herself* much better

*floats herself over a taint and settles in to wait*

[mik cauthin]

Where's Nev??? :weird:

[masterofblades]

Tyrael walks in, and the room lightens with his presence.
"I am only here for a visit, teh machine i use to visit this plane of existence (read computer) is broken and i am borrowing another for a day. Good luck to you fighters and Dash, leave some for me."

[Nevman]

*The game is started, and Nevman urges the Chocobo forward. The Chocobo however takes one look at the cattle prod, gives a sqwark of indignation and runs off, leaving Nevman in heap on the floor. Nevman stands, and tries to raise his lance, but gives up trying to keep the tip aimed at a target around his knees.

The pig continues it's slow shuffle forwards, and Nevman realises he has a choice between running, and being trampled to death . . . choosing the better part of valor, he legs it, cattle prod four foot behind!*

[Drauka]

The midgets sing in perfect harmony and beat with their song. "Nevman, your abilitys are renowned. Duel?" then continue on drinking and singing.

[mik cauthin]

OOC: Whoops. Time to get back to this.

The pig shuffles forwards and Nev increases the distance between them. Mik whips the pig but it doesn't increase its speed. He hops off and tries to push the pig from behind.

The pig doesn't budge, so Mik zaps it with the cattleprod. The pig leaps up and charges forwards leaving Mik standing shocked behind, cattleprod in hand.

[Nevman]

*Faced with the pig's charge, Nevman thinks fast, and starts conjuring . . .

flourishing a hand, he plucks a large green cooking apple out of the air with his right hand, and starts leaning on a large metal pole in his right. Behind him a roaring fire appears, complete with another set of sticks on either side.

The arena eyes the scene curiously, and just as it catches up with Nevman's plan, he calls out to the pig . . . *

Apple Sauce!!

*Seeing the the roasting apple, spit, and cooking fire anew, the pig turn-tails and charges back towards mik, pain forgotten in terror!

Behind, Nevman grins. Who said pigs weren't intelligent?!* :D

[mik cauthin]

The pig hightails it away from Nev and charges back towards Mik.

He takes a six foot pen out of his pocket, and forms a circle out of it.

The pig charges forwards, and Mik throws the pen over it. Trapped in the pen the pig comes to a grinding halt, slamming into the pen wall.

(Now was that a fast draw or not?? :D )

Mik Looks back towards Nev, still standing in front of the fire. He thrusts his hands forwards and shouts out the all mystical word 'Frankfurts!!!'

Sausages come flying out of his hands towards Nev, whipping around rapidly

[Nevman]

* . . . before the sausages are more than halfway to the fire, Nevman is seated on a log, melting several marshmellows on a stick on the blaze.

The frankfurters whistle through the air towards their target, only to be stopped by a sheet of tinfoil. Wrapping them up tightly, all the while keeping his eyes on the marshmellows to make sure they don't burn, Nevman puts them on some of the cooler ashes and proceeds to try and cook them too!*

Cheers mik!! :D

[mik cauthin]

Mik closes his eyes and chants, the words first coming out softly, then growing louder until he is shouting out an ancient spell.

He turns to Nev and grins evilly. "Your marshmellows are now no ordinary marshmellows, but Marshmellows of Doom!!!.

Unbeknownst to Nev, the marshmellows now have the power to give severe indigestion

[Nevman]

*On the point of turning to a gooy mess, Nevman moves the speared marchmellows away from the fire, rises and turns in one smooth motion, before hurling the sticky spear at mik.

A small flow of air raises the tinfoil wrapped frankfurters from the ashes too, hurling them a heartbeat later just above mik's head, where the package explodes open, showering piping hot sausages all over him!*

[Noal Charin]

Noal casually wanders into the arena and sits down at the bar, ordering a bottle of taint.

He then turns around to observe the battle between Nevman and Mik.

[Drauka]

*The halflings smoothly walk up to Noal, moveing as one entity. They throw a bag of gold into the wanderers hands. "Its yours if you can beat us in a duel."

[mik cauthin]

Marshmellows? Sausages? You know what we're missing here?

Mik recites the Great Alcoholics Summoning BUUUUUUURP!!! and the ground starts to shake.

A wall of beer cans shoots up between him and the flying sausages. The marshmellow spear hits the wall first however and it comes crashing down on top of Mik.

Under several thousand beer cans Mik has no choice but to drink his way to freedom!

[Nevman]

*Appalled by the fate mik has been sentenced to, Nevman feels it's his solomn duty to help!! (;)) And so rushes over to drink mik free!*

[mik cauthin]

With Nev helping Mik easily makes it to the top of the beer pile.

He stands up unsteadily, and sees to his alarm three huge Fijian bouncers bearing down on both him and Nev. So the Arena's been taken over with alcohol laws too, he thinks. Do I really look that drunk?

Shaking all unnecessary thoughts out of his head, he looks over to Nev. The battle will have to wait He slurs, and gets himself reayd to be tackled to the floor

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac only has time to pull his head in and cover his neck with his arms before the fire envelops him, burning him to the bone. The scream of pain that would have escaped his lips is instead caught in his throat and muffled. He plummets, smoking, to the ground and slams into it hard. He falls over, splayed out, his clothing somehow intact. Several seconds later he staggers to his feet, a gleam in his eyes not seen by anyone since he had battled with Ewon.

"I have never forgotten how you betrayed me Dasheva. I understand it was fate, but..."

Zaiyac regathers himself, striking a battle pose and snarling. His weapons he kicks to the side. His closed hand rears back as if to throw something, but when it is opened a flood of rose petals fly out and completely surround him. When they slowly dissipate, Zaiyac is holding his legendary weapon Thornsting. It is, of course, not the original, but a magic wrought copy. He grasps it expertisely and extends it to either side with his mind.

"...I will still pay you back."

Zaiyac smiles coldy and spins Thornsting and advances on the awaiting Dasheva. As he gets closer he lashes out with it like a staff, striking from right and left with powerful strokes, the razors embedded in the shaft glinting in the light.

[Dasheva]

OOC: Sorry for taking so long to respond. I wasn't in the right sort of mood, but I am now. Kinda sucks when you ask a girl out, and she already has a bf...Alright here we go then...

Not even I truely know what side I agreed with that day, so I chose my own side.

From the intense rage, to confident calm is more frightening than the boiling rage. The change can only mean one thing. Death was among them. His blades turn to a spinning wall. When Zai's first two strikes come, the touch that wall, and bounce back away with as much force. Dash had slipped into a place in his mind where no amount of pain would stop him. Without waiting for Zai to go offensive, Dash pushes hard. Blades seeming to come from every direction. No matter how many Zai seemed to miss, none ever touched him. After a short time he starts forcing Thornsting higher. With speed born to him, Dash reverses his blades, cut up hard. The two blades three feet apart push Thornsting higher than Zai should have allowed. His left foot comes up and around hard into Zai's side. With no relent, Dash reverses his blades again, back to how he usually fights. Zai stumbles back from Dash, trying to regain his breath and momentum, while Dash keeps coming in hard. Blades slip through Zai's defense countless times, but none cut flesh. The torrent seems to come unendingly.

[Drauka]

The halflings snatch the gold back. And watch the paused fight of Dash and Zai.

[Nakor the Blue Rider]

Nakor approaches the entry to the arena with a deliberate stride. He pauses for a moment, silhoutted by the light from outside and thinks he cuts a formidable figure in his blue vest and cloak. Peering up past the brim of his dashing hat, he is dissapointed to realise no one has even noticed his presence.

Deciding to turn the focus in the arena to himself he thinks quickly before raising both hands above his head and uttering a dark incantation, finishing with, "I call thee, guardians of all that is good and pure!"

Looking around expectantly for the faces of awe and amazement he notices the slow rain of delicate flowers begin. Blushing to the roots and muttering darkly he slinks off to the bar, grabbing an, apparently, free beer. He'd really have to prove himself now.

[Drauka]

*The halflings can bearly hold in the snickering while shouting*

"Care to try that again?"
"Amazing performance... SISSY!"
And from the third
"Care to duel, and put a wager on it?" as he droped a bag filled with gold coins once again on the bar.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac stands perfectly still, calmy looking around him at the blades of lightning, too fast for an untrained eye to see. He stares straight out at Dash, not moving. Before Dash can question Zaiyac's unnerving calm, Zaiyac moved. He waited for the exact right moment to fling his arms out to the side, the sleeves of his cuendillar shirt knocking the blades away to the side. The amazing feat does not have time to register in any onlooker's minds, as Zaiyac rectracts his arms close to his body, making an odd but symbolic gesture before slamming the heels of both his hands into Dasheva's chest, knocking him backwards with impossible force. Anyone looking would have seen a faint white glow on Zaiyac's hands. He instantly snaps his arm around and points at Dash. A bright red glow springs forth from his finger, blasting unceaslessly into Dash and drilling right through his armour. No one would ever suspect the glow was millions of insanely tiny rose buds.

[Endimion]

A wraith like, flickering form enters into the arena. It appears to be a man, but flowing black robes erase any traces of whether or not that is entirely true. After a moment of observing the battle between Dash and Zaiyac the form flickers out of existence. The only thing it leaves behind are spidery sounding words:

The end cometh!

[Dasheva]

The force from Zai's attack threw Dash back several feet. Before he could recover, the red ray hits his chest pushing him back furth. Knowing his armor would hold for a time, Dash digs his feet in. Slowly his arms come up from his side, the sword blades pointing straight out. His body convulsed for a brief second. In that second wind rises up blowing in circles around him. The edges of his blades then suddenly do a strange thing; they begin to bleed. Drops of blood fall from the tip of the blade to the ground where they burst into flame. The flame joins the swirling wind around him, burning the tiny pedals to cinder. With one more convulsion the wind stops, and just the flames rise around him. Through the flames Dash can see that Zai is still trying to get his rose pedals through. Readying himself to strike, Dash shifts his position. Calm reaching his face, lightning arcs across his armor. With no warning, Dash rushes from the firy wall his blades cutting right down Zai's ray. Within feet, Dash jumps and slams his feet into Zai's face.

OOC:Bleh sorry for the crappiness of this post.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac had not been prepared for the Pyromantic techniques Dasheva had in store for him at all. The fire wind attack decimated his attempt to cut through Dasheva's armour. Zaiyac was caught off guard as he was charged, and he did not even have enough time to realize Dash had emerged from the cyclone before a strong kick was planted on his face. Zaiyac was sent tumbling back, his face burning with embarassement and pain. After a moment, he forced himself back up, and wiped the blood that now flowed freely from his split lip. Time for more desperate measures, it seemed.

"Come now Dasheva, throw aside your blades. You won't have much use for them now.."

Zaiyac seemed to tense and pulse. A faint aura of snowy white gleamed from inside him, and a strange power seemed to fill him. Out of nowhere, Zaiyac charged Dash with fresh assault, seeming to be recklessly rushing him. But as he drew near, it became obvious something more subtle was in his mind. The moment before he came withing striking range of Dasheva's dual swords, he shifted his weight and lept out of the way to the side. Using an unknown and impossible ammendment to gravity, he twisted his body so his legs were poiting away from Dash, and stopped midair. Was he flying? No, a block of a pure white substance had appeared behind him, and Zaiyac was vertically crouched against it. A split second later, he pushed away from it with his strong legs and shot towards Dash. The block vanished moments later. He struck out with glowing fists, and was pushed away by their intese momentum. Instead of flying away, another block appeared, and Zaiyac once against pushed off against it, this time coming at Dash with kicks. It continued like that, the tempo of the battle increasing, as Zaiyac attacked Dash furiously without ever touching the ground.

[masterofblades]

...and Tyrael reenters. The room seeming to both grow and shrink as his presence enters; expanding to be able to contain the barely veiled otherworldly magnificence and seeming far too small to have accomplished the task. None saw how he enterered and none could explain how it came to be, for none believed that they could not have noticed this presence the moment it entered, and yet he seemed to appear as if he had been there for hours at his table looking curiously at a taint.

"Any who wish death, attack; all those looking for honorable defeat, challenge me."

[Dasheva]

Unprepared for the first attacks, Zai's fist lands squarely on his chest. As Zai moves back again, a thought comes to Dash. With reckless abandon he drops his swords to his side. Just before they hit the ground they disappear, and reappear back in there sheaths. This time as Zai comes in feet first, Dash slips to the left, grabs Zai's right leg. With Zai's momentum slowed, Dash's left hand comes ripping around to slam into Zai's lower back.

[masterofblades]

I may have the patience of a being that has lived for millenia, but I did not come to earth to exercise patience, let's see some ACTION!!!!

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac flips over and lands softly on the sandy ground, several meters away from Dash. He turns back with a smile.

"Dasheva, this battle is ended. My respect in you has been restored, and I no longer have any negativity towards you. I hope in time we can perhaps be friends. I go now, and I don't know if I will ever be back. Goodbye."



With that, Zaiyac turns and walks slowly out of the Arena, looking around at the people he knew, and thinking about his memories.

[Nevman]

Come on guys, lets get this onto a third page. Every time I open the thread, I'm faced with this:
Where's Nev??? :weird:
And start wondering what I've forgotten! :confused:

[mik cauthin]

We were in the middle of a battle about a month ago.



The post still holds now tho ;)

[Nevman]

Actually, I'm still waiting for you to be tackled to the floor . . . ;)
Originally posted by mik cauthin
Shaking all unnecessary thoughts out of his head, he looks over to Nev. The battle will have to wait He slurs, and gets himself reayd to be tackled to the floor
Ha! No more will I be tormented with that message! The top post is mine!!

[mik cauthin]

ok then


Mik is tackled to the floor


Better? :p







Oh and to torment you further.....Where's Nev? :weird:

[Nevman]

Hah! But that doesn't matter, for when the page opens, I won't see it as it's further down. And then when it loads, I skip to the last post, missing it!

~~~~~

*Nevman leaves mik to his Fijian bouncers, figuring that helping with the beer was one thing, but large men of his own making quite another! :p

[mik cauthin]

So thats the way its going to be is it?

Mik creates some New Zealander rugby players to occupy Nev with

[Nevman]

*Nevman counters with the English Lions, then conjures up a deckchair, table, and Taint to enjoy the show.*

Yep! ;)

[mik cauthin]

The bouncers leave seeing no one is drunk yet (well it has been about a month since we drank that beer, a fair amount of time to sober up)


Mik sets up a Betting Booth and waits for the gamblers to come

[Nevman]

*Nevman starts his Taint, now that the bouncers have wandered off!*

What's the odds?! ;)

[masterofblades]

If it is the odds that I am going to find someone to destroy, I am afraid they are rather long. And, by the way, what is the preoccupation with betting on things that you can't controll?

[Nevman]

Making lots and lots of money? ;)

[masterofblades]

how about losing lots and ltos of money and ruining your life as you know it, ala Pete Rose?

[mik cauthin]

You could go fight the Lions.


Give the All Blacks an upper hand (Just make sure to bet on them beforehnad ;))

[masterofblades]

I was hoping for someone, you know, other dimensional, or something.........

[Dasheva]

Hoy, I need some amusment, but then again you'll probably just call me a dirty cheating *******.

[masterofblades]

oc: now come on Dash, have I ever done that? If u wanna go tho, maybe we can spark some interest in teh Noobs...........

[Dasheva]

Stepping back into the Arena, he looks around. Dressed in normal garb, with not a weapon in sight, he seems not the man he was when he left. In every corner he watches a memory. Nev, Wynters, Drauka, Zaiyac, Sariel, and so many other people seemed to fill this place, but now it stands empty. Wandering from the infermary to the bar, to the sleeping quarters, he watches many memories fade in and out of existance.

Out from under the bar, he pulls his two blades, and a band that goes around his right bicep. Pulling of his shirt, he straps the sword to his waste, and slipped the steel band onto his arm. The cold steel was uncomfortable, and the blades at each hip didn't feel as if it belonged. But this building is where he belonged. Back here with the people he knew for so long. The people he came to trust. Yelling aloud, his voice booming...

Come forth from the shadows, friends, and let us show the world how we fight.

[Nevman]

*The shadows shift as a wind picks up, blowing through the memories without touching the present, unseen forces stirring at Dasheva's words, but not yet ready to yield up their secrets. Not yet. The Arena stills once more, the wind dies and the shadows return to their light-bound positions. Silence, unbroken.

Dasheva turns with a faint smile playing on his face, and finds an nondescript figure leaning back on the bar beside him. Weaponless, as Dasheva first entered, with a Taint in one hand, Nevman’s eyes also stare back into the past, watching the memories ingrained into the sand and walls, into the very air itself, replay in flickers and starts.*

So I’m not the only one still haunting this place with images of the past. Many have come and gone through these rooms. Good friends, admirable opponents. Many have walked these halls. But life stops for no man; eventually the call of the outside grows too strong. Everyone moves on.

*Returning to the present, a sad smile plays across his face as he turns to face the man he calls friend.*

I don’t know how much longer I will remain; I’m fading from this world as we speak. The ties that I’ve bound are loosing strength as one by one people leave in search of a new place. Mayhaps it’s only a passing thing, a time of year or turn in cycle. One can hope.

*Standing upright, raising his Taint; Dasheva finds he also has one in hand.*

A Toast, to all who have passed through the Arenas. Past, present, and future. To old friends never forgotten, and new ones we hope to meet here one day. May you always find a worthy opponent!

*Suiting his words, Nevman drains his Taint, before slouching back down against the bar to watch once more the images from the past.*

[masterofblades]

"Live not in the past, my friends, for it changes not, and it is not for such men to dwell in sadness on the greatness of the past, let us make new memories, let us turn this place forward and make the glory of its past but a foreshadowing of what is to come," says Tyrael as he reenters, making the room seem to glow, but only lessening the darkness slightly, as though it is afraid of what this meeting could portend, but unwilling to give in to the future. "Come, my friends let us do this. Dasheva, if you are willing, let us remind this place of why it was made."

[Dasheva]

Dash grins at Nev's toast, and eagerly downs the taint. As Tyrael enters, Dust feels more at easy. He whole heartedly finds himself agreeing with Tyr. Slowly he draws his blades, and moves into the fighting ring. In the center he lowers his head for a moment, and draws out the fighter he used to be.

Looking up, his eyes glow with the old glee for battle, but also with a new light. His blades slowly begin to twirl at his sides.

And so it begins anew.

[Drauka]

Daezan stalks into the arena proper wearing travel stained clothing. He looks about five eight and his eyes and hair are a strange green. He looks around with his piercing gaze, half closed by the sun with the look of both predator and prey. He fiddles with his single sword hilt and examines his shoes slightly on his way to the bar.

Possibly to pick a fight he takes a seat directly on the bar, spilling over several peoples drinks and begins to watch the festivities.

[masterofblades]

Tyrael smiles, a true smile, glad that his friends have moved past their sadness and grief. Tyrael steps into the ring saying, "I have no wish to do this to the death, let us fight till one of us yields." Having said this, and assuming Dash agrees, his before unseen greatsword appears in his hands, dispelling finally the shadows, filling all with the wonder and awe that is always felt in the presence of angels. He charges Dash with a grin on his face, not that any could look at it for his face is lit up like the sun; there is a strange rhythm to his step as he approaches Dash, as if he plans his next move and knows what is to come.

[masterofblades]

ooc: */bump* and dammit dash get ur ass back here

[Drauka]

Ill fight you...

[masterofblades]

ooc: I will fight you Drauka, if you will let me give dash a day or two more to see if he posts, thanks

[Dasheva]

ooc:Its my Spring Break and I been kinda out of it.

Shifting his weight forward, he waits for Tyr's charge. Within feet of meeting, Dash slips to the side, and low to the ground. He throws out his leg into Tyr's path. As Tyr passes by, Dust puts on hand behind him, and with his other leg kicks towards the back of Tyr's leg. Twisting with the kick he rolls to his knees, and quickly turns as he rises to his feet. Stepping back he drops back into a fighing stance. His deep blue eyes begin to fill with a red hue. He seems to be nothing but calm.

[mik cauthin]

Mik crumples under the weight of all the cliches

[masterofblades]

Seeing Dash's anticipation, Tyr smiles. Just as Dash starts to move Tyr dives legs, sliding with his sword waiting out in front for Dash's kick. As he moves through the slide, Dash stands, leveraging his body angainst his slide, and spins, overhand chopping at Dash's back.

[Drauka]

Mik... you up for a serious battle, instead of a goofy one...?

[Zaiyac Drayon]

A sweet smell filters into the room, laying over top the ingrained smells of sweat and blood. The fresh scent is of roses, and is followed shortly after by a tall man dressed in white and red. His long white hair hangs loose at his back, and two thick bangs cover his eyes. He slowly strides in, looking around and smiling, letting the memories wash over him.

He makes his way to the bar, and takes a seat, his back straighter than when he has last been here, his face lined with more years. He is still the same man however.

Zaiyac Drayon.

Zaiyac grabs a taint from under the counter and raises it into the air.

"To old memories, and new ones to come"

He swallows down a memory filled drink.

[Drauka]

*As zai reaches for his drink under the bar, Daezan from his sitting position atop it has a perefect shot to kick him in the face. So he takes it.*

[Zaiyac Drayon]

The kick was stopped less than an inch away from Zaiyac's face. His free left hand appeared in front of Drauka's foot, holding it while he never broke motion getting his drink.

"Would you care for a challenge?"

[Sariel Sedai]

*follows the feel of her bondholder into the arena*

*smiles as she watches him, carful not to distract him in the middle of battle*

*bows to zai* greetings

how fares all those here? i have become bored with the world and returned here... at least until i finish my re-read lol

[Nevman]

Read slow, stay long! :)

Good to see you Sariel, hows you? Have you heard anything of your bondee recently? It's been a while since I've seen him or Kane online. :(

[Sariel Sedai]

Dash I just spoke to last night... I think school has him bogged down... he should be back...

Kane is online every day he just never posts. *grins* that kid's nuts anyway... I'll have to drag him back soon.

I don't suppose you've seen my Warder around anywhere have you?

[Gentry]

Oh jesus, someone point me to the ferry. This is Corney Island all over again.

[Sariel Sedai]

*points you to the ferry* there you go

[Gentry]

Good. Now, on you all go, and don't get off tll the Ferry banks at Alcatraz.

[Nevman]

If it's all the same to you, I'll disembark at Avalon. :p

Warder, I knew I was forgetting the word! No, I haven't seen Wynters in a while now, but then I can't say I've been all that active these past few months. :/

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Who is this Wynters? I have heard so much of his name that he sounds almost like a legend.

[Drauka]

Has his foot was caught daezan pulled free his blade, and slashed downwards towards the stangers hand as he spoke.

The words fell like air upon granite with all of the expressin that daezan showed.

[Gentry]

If it's all the same to you, I'll disembark at Avalon
Oh, you don't want to go to Avalon. Since Corporate America found a place to store its toxic and industrial wastes shrouded by magical mists that create another dimension, well... It's like Three mile island.

[Nevman]

Good thing mystical mists create multiple dimensions. Plenty to store toxic waste, returning kings, and all manner of alternate realities without one crossing into the bounds of another.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Roughly pushes the foot forward, pushing with just enough power to knock the blade off its path and miss Zaiyac by an inch.

[Sariel Sedai]

*smiles fondly* wynters *IS* a legend these days. he was once recognized as one of the, if not the, best rper on this forum. he and kane's battles were great fun. the origional battle arena is a great read if you can dig it up... lol that will tell you who my wynters is.

damn that boy. i really wish i had his phone number somewhere...

[Zaiyac Drayon]

The original Battle Arena is gone :/

Stupid archive cleaning

[Sariel Sedai]

actually i might have it saved somewhere... *muse*

all i have to say is strawberry bleach

[Drauka]

Daezan uses the momentum of the push on his right foot to roll backwards off of the bar. As his left foot powerfully swings up to let him complete the roll, its path is on a line for zaiyacs chin.

[Nevman]

I have the third, which I believe Wynters started, but that's it.

[masterofblades]

**forever hacking at Dash**

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Leans back, tilting his chair and moving his face just out of the way of Drauka's kick. As the foot passes by him, he flips over backwards, landing on his feet and smiling to Drauka.

"If you wish for a challenge just say so. I do not have enough time to come here merely to sip drinks and think on old times."

[Drauka]

me no want fight.

*dies*
*Blowz way in dust*

[masterofblades]

Well if you don't want a fight I seem to need a partner.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

(Just to let you know Drau is being a **** RPer and deciding not to fight me because he is "mad" at me, and he is breaking one of the biggest rules of RP- dont let real life impact upon your characters.)

You wish a partner in battle, Blade master?

[masterofblades]

I am more than a simple blademaster, I am Tyrael, archangel, marshall of the armies of heaven. If you wish to fight, let us do so.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

As Tyreal gives his name and title, Zaiyac cannot help breaking into a deep smile.

"I knew an Angel once... I always sensed great power from him, though he never showed it. I always wanted to test him. You will do in his place.*

Zaiyac walks over to an empty arena area, touching the ground with one hand and nodding to Tyreal as he follows.

"To an honorable fight"

[masterofblades]

"Honor, yes, let us duel, to the yield, for I do not wish to kill such an opponent." And with that, Tyrael quits his cloaking, letting a fraction of his true self show through. The light that always seems to be around him bunches up, seeming to form two wings of pure light. His face lights up, becoming fairer and more terrible than before. The light coalesces into blades at his elbows, knees and wrists, seeming to almost be alive, twisting and coiling, but never touching or impeding his fluid motions. And his blade, a Great Sword appearing in his hands, not made of light like the others, but giving it off like the sun. Seemingly weightless in his hands, it flows like his thoughts, flitting from position to position, and form to form, as he closes in on Zaiyac.




ooc: my character doesn't use a whole lot of magic, but it is hard to use it on him, sheer firepower won't hurt him, you are going to have to out think him, which I figure was your plan anyway.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac's face shifts into a pose of shock and confusion when the blades on Tyreal's elbows appear. He looks down at his right arm where a blade of light suddenly appears, the "hilt" of it starting at his elbows and the blade extending a full two feet out from his fingertips. It seems to harden into a white crystal. He glances up to see Tyreal advancing on him, and assumes a combat stance.

As soon as Tyreal is close, Zaiyac springs forward, attempting to knock aside his great sword with the crystal light blade on his arm, and at the same time move in deeper to strike at his body. His speed changes with Tyreal's slowly accelerating as they moved about.

[masterofblades]

Tyrael leaves his sword there, waiting for Zai's crystal arm-blade to hit it. As it does so, Tyr moves his sword with Zai's blade, and spins around it, moving in close to Zai's body, stabbing at Zai's chest with his elbow, ready to make the light blade sink deep.


edit: I was only attacking with one elbow, not both:rolleyes: , that makes a little more sense. But your reply still works for me.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

The light blades are stopped short, and both of them feel a hard jolt. Zaiyac's left arm holds stiff and strong and a second weapon extends out from it and blocks Tyrea's attack before it can penetrate. Zaiyac brings his head backwards and then smashes it forwards into the back of Tyreal's head, then steps back.

ooc: Sorry if I misread what you typed, I wasnt 100% of what happened.

[masterofblades]

ooc: I am going to assume you tried to headbut me in the side of the head, since I was jabbing with an elbow.


**Tyr takes the headbut on the side of his head, and moves to take advantage of Zai being out of position, with both arms across his body. Tyr spins again, this time around and behind Zai, while attempting to drag his Greatsword across Zai's leg, while slicing up his back with the blades on his wrist and elbow, a smile on his face all the while.**

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac flips forward as tyreal turns around him, pulling his legs up and tucking them in just before the sword can cut into him. The elbow blades come up and make contact with his shirt, but they only manage to scrape along it and grind the flesh on Zaiyac's back slightly. At that moment Zaiyac was glad that Aginor had that shirt made... what a wonder it was, woven ceundillar.

At the exact right moment, Zaiyac uncoils his legs ike a spring, planting them both hard against Tyreal's exposed chest and knocking him back while Zaiyac used the opportunity to roll forward. As he spun to rise again, his right arm blade extended and slashed out, turning with Zaiyac, attempting to take out the legs of Tyreal while he was still stumbling backwards.

[masterofblades]

Walking backwards with the momentum created by Zai's kick, AS Tyr sees Zai spin and try to take out his legs, Tyr jumps, ending up floating 15 feet or so in the air.




oc: it is a little hard to affect my balance because my wings of light are merely representative, ie they dont "flap" for me to fly, it is more like self telekinessis if you know what I mean.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

ooc: Well If it didnt affect your balance, a powerful kick to the chest would still knock you back.

The attack arcs around and then retracts back into Zaiyac's arm, fading instantly to his normal arm. He raises the arm using the same motion and raises his palm facing Tyreal. Out of nowhere white fire blasts out from his palm, shooting towards Tyreal at a fast rate, preparing to incinerate anything in its path with clean force.

[masterofblades]

As the fire comes towards Tyrael, he points his sword into the blast and dives forward, splitting the fire with the blade and stabbing at Zai with the giant sword.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Seeing that his attack is ineffective, and that the mass of Tyreal is now flying straight at him, Zaiyac kicks off and backflipsout of danger, moments before Tyreal smashes into the ground, causing a crater and sending rubble into Zaiyac's face. He shields himself with his arms, and looks around in time to see Tyreal advancing on him, and rolls back while striking out with his legs, another double kick aimed for Tyreal's groin.

[masterofblades]

Seeing Zai's kick, and deciding that the likelihood of getting out unscathed is too small, Tyr continues his charge, swinging his sword so that if Zai's leg connects, he will have a rather large gash on the side of his leg. Tyr continues with the charge diving forward over Zai, with the kick, trying to minimize the blow he knows is coming.


ooc: sorry if that last post seemed like godmoding, but i did warn you that magic doess't do a whole lot of good afainst Tyr, and fire especially, because he is an angel made for the sole purpose of fighting demons.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

ooc: haha dont worry, it didnt. Zaiyac has "split" his share of fires too. Plus this isnt really fire, but a mix of crystal and fire. So it would have form and be able to part :)

Zaiyac hits his opponent, causing the sword in his hands to divert to the side slightly, just enough to avoid seriously injuring Zai's leg. The blade does still slice a long cut across his shins, causing Zaiyac to cry out in pain. Tyreal flies over him, and Zaiyac lies there for a moment, wondering how much he has damaged his oponent. He slowly got to his feet and turned around, blood trickling down his legs. He smiles slightly to himself, then quickly reaches into a secretive pocket and pulls out a rose, taking off several petals of it and holding their softness on his shins. The blood quickly stops flowing and all that remains of the attack is an aching pain.

ooc: Did i change the verb tense a lot in that post? :/

[masterofblades]

ooc: i didn't notice it until you mentioned it, and you only switched tenses once:D

Tyrael takes the kick in the shin, flipping him over as he flies over Zai, he lands on his back, rolling to his feet. He turns around as Zai gets up and begins to apply the rose petals to his cut. Tyr stands there waiting for it to heal, seemingly unsurprised by the healing. As the last traces of the cut fade away on Zai, the light surrouding Tyr seems to lessen, and his lower boddy glows with its own light. His leg no longer bothering him Tyr moves forward ready to bring the fight to Zai.

ooc: the "light" in the leg is healing it, not just supporting it, but he will be a little slower for 4 or 5 posts.

[Sariel Sedai]

is there anyone here but MoB and Zai?

*nods greeting to Zai so as not to distract him*

*yawns a bit and stretches* its been a while since i was in here... *finds a good chair and reclines, waiting for an opponent, or for the sun to go down, whichever comes first*

[Nevman]

*Nevman watches the sun sink beneath the horizon from his seat at the bar, before fading further into the background himself.*

Two week holiday coming up! USA, here I come!

[masterofblades]

ooc: I was going to let you set up before my attack Zai, so if you are waiting for me, that is why I haven't done anything yet, i will edit this if that is what you were doing.

[masterofblades]

*bump*




dammit

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac suddenly darts forward, flinging his arms out wide. The two blades of light on his arms disconnect and zip off to either side of Tyreal, arcing and coming back around to strike at him from left and right at the exact same instant that Zaiyac leaps forward in a jumping side kick aimed at Tyreals chest.

[masterofblades]

Tyr drops to his hand and a knee, swinging a leg to swipe Zai's out from under him, while looking to Zai's arm blades ready to react if tehy act.... unnatural.



ooc: all I could think was *duck*, lol.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Zaiyac is flipped around by Tyreal, and by maniupulating his own energy with that of the air around him he is able to land on his hands, facing Tyreal. He quickly springs off, while his blades skim along the top of Tyreal's head, barely missing him. They continue on their paths before spinning off and returning to Zaiyac's arms as he is still leaping up from the hand stand. The moment they return to him, he flings his arms forward, sending both blades straight at Tyreal's middle at blinding speed as Zaiyac begins to fall back to the earth.

[masterofblades]

Dodging right, and swinging his sword as a bat, Tyr knocks the nearer arm balde aside as he clears the flying blades he charges, sword swinging from his right to left, one-handed, as he closes in on Zai he slides foot first, a strange gleam in his eyes, like he is planning.

ooc: the "gleam" is just my way of proving I am not GMing when I am about to do something particularly... skillful.:D

[Dasheva]

Slipping inside, Dust picks up the conversation Nev, and Sariel were holding.

Battle Arena 3 was indeed made by Wynters, and in his absence, and to carry on his memory, I created the following arenas.

Turing to Tyr, Dust bows slightly.

I beg your forgiveness for abandoning you during our own fight. May we one day continue it to its completion.

Dust calmly takes a seat at the bar, and grabs himself a drink. Sipping slowily he watches the battle closely.

[Sariel Sedai]

*bump* okay i think this needs to be revived...

*stretches in a puddle of moonlight and shifts into a tall slim gargoyle with soft tan skin and long brown hair with a faint sheen of red*

any takers?

[mahiro shukosa]

Not me old friend. :) I am just here to cheer on the combatants in this place.

[Sariel Sedai]

*laughs* old? look who's talking! *winks* you never did much arena-ing did you...

[mahiro shukosa]

I'm a lover not a fighter. ;)

[Sariel Sedai]

rofl don't i know it you big sap!

[Sariel Sedai]

*sighs and dejectedly bumps again*

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Conti9nueing to descend, Zaiyac's hands push down to face the earth, and blasts a huge beam of white energy down, slowing his descent until he is able to sommersault forward and land on his feet, turning to face Tyreal as he slides towards him.

[Gholam]

Hmm haven't looked in one of these for a while, I see the bodies have started to pile up, lucky thoguh that your resident corpse disposal unit has returned.

*Starts chomping on the corpses*

[Sariel Sedai]

ewww *shudders delicately*

[Nevman]

*Nevman returns from the past to the bar stool, feeling his age mentally, if nor physically.*

What the hell, I'll take up your challenge if it's still open. Besides, we never did finish our spar from days gone by.

[Sariel Sedai]

*grins and begins happily sorting through her assorted battle paraphernalia* you'll have to be patient with me... i'm a little rusy...

*selects and dons a suit of studded leather armor that has been dyed to black and a pair of black calf-skin boots. she straps her strung bow to her back and casts a quick spell on her quiver so that her arrows don't fall out. You see a quick movement, not quite catching what it was she hid on her person, but a small smirk turns up the corners of her mouth. Sets her sword carefully on a platform of Air for possible later use, then takes out a long black whip and nods as it snaps with a satisfying #crack# Last, she ties back her long hair with a small strip of black leather* There I think that should do the trick... what ground rules?

[Nevman]

*Nevman slips to his feet, rolling his shoulders and loosening his muscles . . . it's been a while since he has moved with more than his mind within these walls. Taking a step away from the bar, a hint of a smile touches his lips, as the familiar straps and weights return around the dusty brown leather jerkin and trousers, weapons fading back into view.

Following Sariel’s example, Nevman checks the edges to the blades he uses most often, returning the knives up his sleeves, the dirks into his jerkin, and the sword to it's sheath at his side; noting her slight smirk, Nevman notes the position of what she was hiding, keeping in mind Sariel’s past disposition for poisons.*

Ground rules? I’m not sure. How seriously are we taking this? Only use what we have on us at this moment, or taking things to the edge of GMing?

*Satisfied with the blades, he moves on to check the staff on his back, slipping it out of its casing and checking the mechanism and length for faults and dents, before returning it again.*

What kind of match are you looking for?

[Sariel Sedai]

*Sariel grins ferally, her mouth showing off a few teeth that aren't quite human* nice to know i haven't been forgotten, nor have my tendencies

*One of her infamous crystal daggers appears in her hands and she twirls it skillfully before making it disappear* that's all i was hiding, but as you already know me too well...

as for what kind of battle i want... do we want to include magics in this or leave them out and just fight with our weapons? and what sorts of magics are we using? and as for GMing... definately out of the question. you can't avoid everything. but, perhaps we should have someone on hand to heal us when our battle is finished?

*smirks i promise to Heal you should one of my crystal daggers find its mark. after all, i'd hate to lose an opponent willing to match me knowing i have them... i don't think even kane will do it without his full battle armor

[Nevman]

If you're going to be shape shifting, I think I'll need the use of a few spells!

*Putting out an elbow, Nevman grins and leans back on a patch of air, letting it take most of his weight.*

Plus it can liven things up from the routine of slash and stab. I suggest we leave it fairly open - magic takes energy, so you can't keep filling the arena with lightning and the like without time between to recuperate. Wounds slow you down. Try to keep to the limitations you have imposed on your own character and get your opponent into a situation they can't reasonably get out of.

Oh, and no making moves for your opponent that get them hurt or put them into a unescapable position.

Any disagreements / additions?

[Sariel Sedai]

none at all...

*she replaces her whip on her belt and steps back a few paces to keep herself out of range in case nev decides to attack while she shifts. the changes are subtle, but her muscles become a bit larger and dark spots appear and grow on her skin as soft auburn fur covers her body. her legs begin to bow and grow in an odd manner until she has large cat legs attached to her furred, though still human torso. a auburn furred tail appears and lengthens to proper size and her face elongates a bit and her eyes glow yellow. her human ears melt into her face and two small cat ears appear on top of her head. her eyes flash and she snarls* how's this for starters?

*sariel uncoils her whip again and crouches at ready, tail lashing, and a noise that sounds --- like purring... coming from her thoat*

[Wynters]

**The cold rain hammered down out of the black sky, its weight seeming to slice through the night like razorblades. A lone figure slogged through the mud and rain towards a giant edifice crouching at the edge of the plateau like a predator waiting for prey to approach.

The figure was difficult to see clearly, the darkness embracing him like an old friend.**

Somehow I am not surprised that it ends here. Such a long way to finish where I started. **The thoughts seared their way across the desolate plateau before spiralling upwards on a gust of air to join the churning clouds above**



**The double doors open with a barely audible whisper. Silhouetted in the rapidly widening rectangle of moonlight, his form crowned with pregnant stormclouds stands a tall figure, his head hunched into the wind as its treacherous fingers tear at him.

Stepping into the relative calm of the arena the figure straightens up and lets his gaze roam over its occupants.

The broad-brimmed hat, that hides much of the figure's face beneath its caressing shadow, is battered and stained with years of hard travel. The duster, whose collar obscures what face the hat does not, hangs heavily on the figures shoulders. Rents and tears cover the faded yellow material from collar to shin-length hem. Crude attempts at stitching jar with a much finer and skilful hand only highlighting the dark stains that cling to some of the rips.

As the figure drops his pack to the floor the duster billows open to reveal a loose white shirt tucked into black trousers. A belt is crowned with a silver buckle bearing an intricately carved feline in mid pounce. The trousers end in shin high boots, the leather darkened to nigh black by the pains of travel and over use.

A cursory glance would reveal the hilt of a sword emerges from the duster behind the figure's right shoulder, the dark red and blue wrapping running the length of the hand-and-a-half handle simple and well worn. On closer inspection a second handle is visible at the other shoulder. Of similar design this handle is wrapped in sky blue and black but the cords of mourning run along its length, holding the blade firmly scabbarded.**

The figure locks his eyes with those of his Ward.**

"I have been away too long." His voice carries waves of regret and pain.

**He drops to one knee in front of her, his left fist on the ground, his right fist over his heart, eyes downcast.**

"My punishment is yours to decide, Daughter of Oberon. I await your judgement."

[Nevman]

*Not a gargoyle, this time. Blank faced, Nevman denies the surprise from reaching his face, and starts modifying his plans to pit against a cat's weaknesses, rather than the stone creature he had been expecting. Taking a step forward, he selects his weapons.

Left into his jerkin, right behind his back, he retrieves a dirk and staff. Spinning the pace long metal shaft idly while gripping the dirk firmly, Nevman takes another step forward onto the arena sands, eyes locked on the figure in front of him, before something causes him to pause midway through a third step. The swish of the arena doors; a new presence in the arena that even he can recognise. Both combatants turn to greet the newcomer . . . *

[masterofblades]

My apologies Zaiyac, I have been detained with matters that could not be helped, if you wish to start the fight anew I am more than ready, otherwise I am accepting challengers.

[Sariel Sedai]

*Sariel starts in surprise and blinks as a familiar scene unfolds before her. She looses her shift in shock when a familiar figure clad in hat and battered duster is blown in and a sudden flood of emotions flow along a bond, so long faint with distance. Her jade eyes fill with tears that stream down her alabaster skin as she watches one of her oldest, dearest friends and protectors kneel before her, awaiting punishment*

punishment my friend? never.

Her feet unfreeze and she rushes to ungracefully bowl Wynters over in an exuberant hug*

too long you have been gone, much too long, but you have returned to me and all is well.

[Dasheva]

Stepping forth from a shadow. Stretching as if he had been in the same position for a long time he wanders over...First he bows to Sariel, and second to Wynters.

It has been far to long, friend. I have kept the arena running, and if you wish it back, then I shall hand over the keys to you. You were my predicessor in owning it, and I only gained it by your absence so by all rights its yours.

[Wynters]

**Wynters GRINS hugely as Sariel pounces on him, his arms wrapped around his ward in joy. Lost for a moment he simply holds the Daughter of Oberon, the years of absence falling away like autumn leaves.**

"Too long," he whispers "too long."

**As Dasheva speaks Wynters stays locked in their embrace but turns his eyes to meet his friend's gaze.**

"Not at all." he replies. "Your compliment honours me, but I could only do half the job that you are doing. The arena has gone from strength to strength under your steady hand and I wouldn't dream of letting you off the hook that easily."

**He winks and smiles at Dasheva before closing his eyes and losing himself in his Ward once more.**

[Sariel Sedai]

*sariel squirms around so that, while still happily incased in wynter's hug, she can see her own bond holder and smiles, sending warmth and happiness along it*

good to see you as well dash

*she begins to purr, even though still in human form*

[Zaiyac Drayon]

No, thats ok Master, I'll forfeit

*Zaiyac stabs himself through the heart and dies*

[masterofblades]

*Puts foot on corpse's chest, raises sword high in air with both hands and poses*

Well it was a good fight Zai, until it got called due to real life.

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Yes, thanks for entertaining me :)

Oh right, Im dead

*shuts up*

[Dasheva]

With only a slight smile on his face, Dash bows deeply once again to Wynters.

Thank you, good friend. I've had a better idea. Between the two of us, the Battle Arena shall prosper even better than if it was just one of us.

Reaching into the folds of his robes, Dash digs around for a bit, and finally retrieves two keys. He bows once more to Wynters, and then walks away...towards the bar. Dash places one of the keys on the bar, and puts the second back into his robe. He then walks to the edge of the arena, and sits on the floor. Sitting there he stares for a long time...thinking.

[Nevman]

*Nodding a greeting to Wynters, the weapons fade away as Nevman leans back, allowing the air behind him to take the weight off his feet while he watches the scene in front of him.*

Don't do too much thinking Dash. It's the curse of the self-aware races.

[SpartanSniper1]

Zarath Enters the Arena

[SpartanSniper1]

Who dares chalange the Mighty Zarath? *Pulls out a 5 ft. sword with one hand, as red-orange energy flows around and through his masculine body.

[Wynters]

**Disentangles himself from Sariel Sedai and turns to Nevman**

"My apologies, Sir. I seem to make a habit of interrupting your battles with overly melo-dramatic entrances. Allow me to withdraw a distance to allow the two of you to continue."

**Moves towards the bar and pockets the key, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips as he does so. A smile hinting at pleasant memories.

Picking up a taint he turns to once more survey the arena and spots Zarath. He nods in awareness and awaits developments.**

[SpartanSniper1]

*Runs into arena*

*Sword glows Red*

*Eyes glow Red*

*Body getting larger and muscles expanding*

*Laughs*

[SpartanSniper1]

*stares at Wynters*
"COME INTO THE ARENA IF YOU WISH TO DIE!!!"

as lightning crashes down on Zareth his body stops enlarging as he is now 10 ft. tall.

[Dasheva]

Stuck in his thinking, Dash ignored the intitial challenge, but as Zareth storms past him he bothered to listen. Under his breath Dash snickers. Standing he turns his head back to Wynters.

He is yours if you want him, but if you don't want 'im I'd love to teach him a few things.

Dash's swords simply appear in hand, and the air around him begins to crackle with white electricity jumping across his skin.

Your call, mate. He did directly challenge you

[Sariel Sedai]

*kisses Wynters gently on the cheek and shifts back into the auburn cat form, the tip of her long tail twitching forcefully as she watches nev*

[Nevman]

No worries my friend. It is always good to see you.

*With a smile, he pushes himself back up onto his feet and turns to take in the latest arrival.*

What's this, a cross between Cloud and Dragonball Z?

*Eyes gleaming with a mischievous twinkle, Nevman plucks something out of the air, revealing it to be a small silver pin. Glancing over at Dash and Wynters he says with a laugh;*

Who wants to do the honours?!

*The flicker of motion to his left then grabs his attention, and Nevman turns back to face Sariel. Shifting his grip, the pin expands out into the staff he was holding before, and the dirk reappears in his left hand. With a grin, he mouths two words;*

Ladies first?

[masterofblades]

"Zareth, I have only had the privelige of watching Wynters fight once, but let me tell you now, you will die, Wynters may or may not be nice about it, depending on whether you try to God mode in the process, so as a word of warning, don't get yourself out of everythying thrown at you, its not possible, even in this world of fantasy."
*Smirks at Dash and throws a respectful glance at Wynters*
"That about cover it guys?"

[Dasheva]

Glancing at MoB, Dust considers what he said, and finally nods his approval.

Wynters will always be fair up to the point you god mode. Nev is the same way. I like to think I am as fair as them...it just really depends on who you talk to around here.

With no warning blades drop from Dust's hands. Falling to his knees he looks at the far wall blankly. For a few moments he sits there like this, and with no warning stands and leaves.


OOC: I forgot that I was leaving town tommorow for a week so have fun, and I'll see you all then. No worries about Dust.

[Lord_Mantis]

Entering just as Dust left the arena from another door Mantis silently curses, wishing he'd had time to apologize for times now gone. No matter, he'll be back... Glancing at Zarath Mantis' barely witholds a shudder.

Was I like that when I started?

His face going red in shame Mantis heads to the bar hoping to drown out a few choice old memories.

[SpartanSniper1]

"Are you wussies just going to stand out there and talk about it?"

[SpartanSniper1]

*Laughs* "Your all Talk Dev!"(deep voice)

*Stomps on ground making the earth shake a bit as splinters of sand ans earth fly through the arena around Zareth*

[Zaiyac Drayon]

Sobs uncontrollably

[masterofblades]

I shall fight you if that is what you wish, and Wynters has no wish to do it himself.


ooc: A piece of advice, go back and read previous Battle Arena's for info on people's char's, its a good idea for strategy too, but that would take too long, lol.

[Wynters]

"If I might have the honour, Master of Blades? A man's reputation is only a good as his last duel, and mine was some time ago. Besides, I was challenged directly and it would be rude to refuse."

**Tips his head back, finishes the last of his taint and softly returns the empty bottle to the counter. Pushing himself to his feet he turns to face Spartan, his duster swirling silently in his wake.

Wynters locks his eyes with Zareth, the challenger overtopping him by some three-and-a-half feet.

Wynters bows low, one foot forward, one hand sweeping his hat from his head in a flourish.**

"Welcome, Sirrah."

**Wynters stands, replacing his hat.**

"To first touch? First blood? Or beyond?"

**Whilst waiting for a reply Wynters reaches over his shoulder and draws forth the sword from his left shoulder, sky blue scabbard and all.

He turns back to the bar and reverently lays the weapon on the bar-top. He pauses for a second, his dark brown eyes hardening...then spins back to face Zareth and begins striding towards the giant, his right hand snaking back over his shoulder to grasp the handle of his Katana.**

[Lord_Mantis]

*Turning away from his drink Mantis' attention is now on the fight about to unfold*

'Bout time for some action around here! This should be good.

[Sariel Sedai]

*bows to nev* you're too kind

*shifts back into human form, her waist-length auburn hair tied back with a piece of black leather, her clothes a simple tunic and pants, tucked into soft leather boots. sariel begins to sing, softly at first, then a little louder, her voice steadily gaining strength. nev blinks a little as the gentle melody washes over him and his eyes get a little heavy as it continues. she says a word and the song continues to sing and she begins a countermelody, the power of the song growing as its complexity grows.*

[Nevman]

*There are certainly worse ways to die than listening to a beautiful woman sing, Nevman pauses a moment to listen to the song, letting it drift around and through him and noting almost absently his eyes begin to lower . . .

. . . at the same time, a cornered off portion of his mind runs through some options. It wouldn’t be long before this retreat too was overrun, and he so hated doing the expected. Time to act. Starting with a low hum, Nevman weaves his own almost inaudible melody into the magic.

With the introduction of Sariel’s countermelody, Nevman lends his voice in full to his own additions, creating new harmonies and shifting the structure of the music away from Sariel’s intended goal. At the same time, a new train of thought starts up, wondering if rather than simply disturbing her spell, he could twist it to his own use . . . at least it opened up new avenues to explore.

With a grin to Sariel’s frown, Nevman starts to add his body’s motion to the flow of power. Slow, graceful movements, weapons seemingly forgotten in his hands though his eyes remain locked on Sariel, Nevman uses the space between them in his flowing dance, while ever drawing closer to the base of the spell’s power.*

[Sariel Sedai]

*with a start of surprise, Sariel sense the creeping loss of control of her song, and another surge as Nev too begins to sing. She sings her way back to a cadence and ends the song with a sustained high note, but her voice cracks slightly and the power lashes back at her and she stumbles backward. Muttering under her breath, she tries a new approach... taking a breath, she begins a new song, this one so beautiful that it almost brings tears to the eyes of those who hear it. As one listens, all desires except that to hear the song begin to fade and you can almost smell the flowers and see the beautiful forest glade. A stunning forest faerie with long auburn hair and bright green eyes, much like Sariel herself, dances across the glade towards you...

[masterofblades]

*Bows* Of course, its your challenge to accept or refuse. I can't say that I would mind seeing your skills again myself, where I come from, such things are usually for far greater things than sport, this existence is refreshing.

[Nevman]

*The dance leaves his limbs as Sariel brings her incantation to an abrupt end, voice dying with it as the power from their joint spell fades. Still ten paces away, feeling slightly drained, he sees her stagger from the backlash and lets himself take a momentary respite . . .

. . . his outer mind is already enthralled by the time he notices the glade shimmer around himself and a figure begin to take form. Sariel has started singing again, and the rest of his mind is screaming for a response. Something more direct this time.

Launching straight into full-voiced shout, it tears the peace momentarily, before Sariel’s song heals the wound. But enough time has been gained to plan the next, this time directly opposed to Sariel’s own voice. Discord ensures, and from it is born destruction. A searing blast of air erupts in the glade, wilting the surrounding trees and flowers, challenging the forest’s guardian, but not yet fierce enough to burn the life-enriched dell. More is needed. More -

A note of sorrow rises from the depths of Nevman’s counter. To harm such beauty . . . it cannot be helped. Shaking his head, he forces it down to a sub-theme with rage. Another blast of blistering heat, but still not enough; his voice alone is not enough. Movement is added to the weave.

Grace gone, replaced with a much more forceful, almost savage set of steps that act to enhance the alien-ness of his song to hers. Where before his power had been an attempt to subvert hers from within, this was a pure power struggle aimed to dominate and destroy.

Nine paces, eight. The fire takes hold and the forest faerie is forced to pause it’s approach to fight the threat to it’s own domain and source of power. Staff and dirk whirling - five, four. Nevman wonders if Sariel is even aware of his own approach. He has to assume that she is.

Three. Launching himself at his opponent, his thumb slips over the button on his staff, realising it to it’s full eight feet, swung round to deliver a knock out blow to her head, and hopefully a release of the forest glade.*

[Sariel Sedai]

*Sariel raises her own voice in an effort to keep her, again failing hold on her song, hoping vainly that her voice will be the stronger of the two and damning herself for choosing an opponent who could sing... she closes her eyes for greater concentration and tries to ignore the second voice causeing dissonnance with hers... she pushes it aside but can't ignore the rising power pulsating against her musical magic and sings more forcefully, her voice quivering with the strain...

abruptly her song dies, midline as nev's staff connects solidly with her heat, knocking her off her feet and she lands in a heap on the dusty floor of the arena, unable to move for a stunned moment and then holds up her hands in horror and a pathetic attempt to fend off the backwash of the lost spell...

A small half-shield erupts infront of her and the clanging chaos rings around her, temporarily deafening her. She lays slightly stunned and gasping, hoping that the backwash will have struck her opponent enough for her to catch her breath as she figures out what to try next.

She decides to try a small shift and kneels to begin, looking deep into herself to summon her change... and cries out softly and cradles her now aching head in her hands... now what?

Sariel struggles to her feet, a small crystal dagger now stuck into her belt as she quickly strings her longbow and knocks an arrow to it.*

[Nevman]

*Realising too late that the strike had been too desperate with not enough thought behind it; the angle misjudged, he landed wrong-footed and lost his balance to tumble in a spin to the arena sand while struggling to loosen his own conjuring before he forcefully greets the ground and has the air expelled from his lungs.

Landing heavily, he rolls onto his stomach, head buried in the sand as the backwash of released sorcery rolled over him and away. Leather on his back steaming, he lifts his head to spot Sariel reach to her back for her bow staff. Cursing to himself, he casts around for his dropped dirk, pushing himself up to his knees to slip it back in place.

The bow stringed, she selects an arrow, and Nevman’s heart leaps as he realises he doesn’t even have enough concentration left for a gust of wind, let alone a shield. Instinct takes over, body dropping to auto-pilot as his mind tries to recoup some of the energy he expended in trying to fight Sariel on her own terms. Two throwing daggers are slipped out of his sleeves with the first spinning across towards Sariel’s head as she draws back the bow, the second a beat behind at chest height.

The daggers are immediately followed by himself, sword slipping out of it’s sheath, and trying to free an entangled dirk from his jerkin. Hoping he broke her concentration enough, he has to deny Sariel the time to use her bow.*

[Sariel Sedai]

*snarling, she dodges the first dagger, but failing to see the next until the last second she moves not far enough and is struck high on her left arm. She looks down quickly and sees the red line of blood through the tear in her tunic.

Cursing roundly, she turns quickly and runs to the edge of the arena, safely depositing her precious bow there and turning again to face nev.

She grabs a small throwing dagger from... somewhere... and throws it at nev, angrily, and the dagger flies quick. She hesitates, contemplating her next move and whether or not it could have disastrous consequences should she be struck.*

*smirking softly she asks, half to nev, half to herself* man or beastie or faerie creature should i be...

*suddenly she begins to laugh softly, and the sound has to it the edge of the insane or the maniacal tone of the evil.* I have forgotten my dearest sisters of the isle... the sirens of the emerald isle...

*again Sariel raises her voice to the skies, but this time, no lullaby or beautiful melody travels from her lips. Instead this is an inhuman cry, piercing and terrible so that one's head aches but as one gazes upon her, she becomes too beautiful to look upon...

...her clothes fade and are replaced by flowing robes of white while her hair, auburn before is now hot red and flowing about her like living flame. Her eyes glow like jade embers in her flawless ivory skin that, also, glows with an inner light. The sword now in her hand is long and slim, made of crystal instead of steel, glows a milky white, pulsing with power...

...and still the shriek continues, making all who hear it want to shriek themselves...

[Wynters]

**Wynters pauses, blade half bare. His eyes rapidly scan Zareth bringing Wynters to the conclusion that his opponent has his attention elsewhere. Unwilling to take advantage of someone so distracted Wynters resheathes his blade, bows once more and spins on his heel.

Walking back to the bar he is pleasantly suprised to find a fresh Taint waiting for his return.**

"Anyone else?"

[masterofblades]

I am still looking for a fight, Wynters, if you are so inclined.

[Wynters]

**Wynters hand pauses as it reaches towards the bottle of Taint.

He turns to Master of Blades and smiles a half smile.**

"It would be a pleasure. Thank you."

**Straightening up he walks towards the centre of the arena keeping Master of Blades to his left, his eyes fixed upon his opponent.**

"How far do you want to take things? " A hint of something playing through his voice?

[masterofblades]

I really can't say that I would be able to do much more than go to first blood, for now, although if you wanted to wait a while we couild have a more normal arrangement

ooc: football 2 a days for another week, kind of have no time for myself for a little bit.:(

[Wynters]

OOC: Whatever is most convenient for you. I leave you the first move. ;)

[masterofblades]

With blades at wrists, elbows and knees, Tyrael walks to the center of the arena, facing Wynters. Taking out his hand and a half sword, Tyr bows to Wynters and begins to advance.

ooc: blades on elbows and wrists can turn a blade but not block one, so to speak. Telling you now keeps me honest:D

[masterofblades]

I think this deserves a *bump*

[masterofblades]

I cannot allow this to slip off into the wild unknown......

[420Sedai]

Just then a beautiful woman walks into the arena. Her grace and composure causes all to take a momentary glimps of her radiance. She saunters to the bar and settles for a cold glass of taint while surveying the room. Casting a chalenging gaze upon the battlers, she sits back to wait for a worthy opponent to entice her to battle.

[masterofblades]

Come, I will fight. I am not the greatest to ever enter this arena, but let us show them how it is done.

[420Sedai]

Ahh, an adversary enters the areana. 420 selects a weapon from the gallery. A simple quarterstaff. Would not want to expend too much strength on an unworhty opponent ;). She leans on the quarterstaff with exquisit grace and beauty awaiting her foe.

[masterofblades]

ummm, small question, are we fightinh realistically, or otherwise. The use of angels, demons and other such extra planar beings, sry can't help but laugh at that one, was rather popular around here at one point, so I may have to tone Tyrael down a bit.

[Nevman]

And suddenly I realise I've committed one of the gravest crimes of all . . . disappearing mid-fight without any kind of reason or explanation.

My sincerest apologies Sariel. From what I can remember at the time, I was running out of novel ideas, and then the thread faded without me even attempting to bring it back. The fight is rightfully yours, especially considering I'd over extended myself in sorcerous defence. Anything more would have been treading the line of GMing to finely for my tastes. If you are still around and wish to finish it properly, then let me know. But either way your character won this fight fairly and without dispute from me.

Masterofblades, remember, every branch of every tree remembers its origins. If the right conditions are met, cuttings can take root to become a tree once more. Of course, a little encouragement can speed up the process considerably.

*Nevman glances over at 420’s staff meaningfully, gives a weary grin, then fades away once more into the background.*

[420Sedai]

Use anything you want
BRING IT ON!!!

[masterofblades]

*Then so be it.*
Tyrael advances, becoming brighter and brighter with each step. As he nears his opponent, he unsheathes his sword, and it looks as if the dawn itself has come to fight on his behalf. Beautiful and monstrous, the greatsword seems light as the Angel unsheathes it with one hand. Wings of light, with blades at wrists, elbows and knees are now apparent, and Tyrael is now within range of the Lady. with a crushing overhead blow, he tests the abilities of his opponent, and waits to see what she will do.

[420Sedai]

The Lady diflects with a quick flip of the quarterstaff and gracefully rolls to the side while simutaneously striking master in the back of the knees. As Tyrel's sword strikes the groung the force causes the areana to quiver. This along with the quarterstaff blow brings master to his knees.

[masterofblades]

As the Lady rolls to the side, Tyrael moves with his swing, and turns it into a forward roll, narrowly missing the attack from the quarterstaff. As he stands up, Tyr turns and throws his blade at the Aes Sedai (just guessing from the name) and stands waiting for her counterattack.


-o yeah, the blades at elbows and wrists can turn a sword stroke, but not deflect it, if that makes any sense to you.-

[420Sedai]

The lady pulls out of her roll just in time to avoid the blades narrow point and deftly pins it to the ground with her staff. After two quick headstots th estaff turns into a blur creatin ga shied between the combatants. Siezing the scource 420 awaits the next attack.

[masterofblades]

Smirking, Tyrael lifts his hands and offers up a muttered prayer. The bliss and enhanced senses remain to 420, but she cannot direct the power. She is a bucket, filled with the power of the Creator, but unable to direct or choose it. As the shield dies, Tyrael steps forward, and jabs the middle of the quarterstaff with and open palm, sending it spinning out of control towards 420.

[420Sedai]

Grrrrrr. 420 jumps, easily avoiding the staff, and draws two knives from up her sleaves. Never come to battle illprepared. She throws both knives in parallel trajectories simultaneosly. Both aimed shouler height three feet apart.

[masterofblades]

grrr, if those things are bloody enchanted......;)

Tyrael dives forward and rolls to his feet, hoping that even if the blades are enchanted, they cannot change direction so fast. Checking to see if the blades are behind him, he runs directly at 420 with all possible speed.

edit: O, and I kind of made an assumption about those daggers, probably wrong, but its better to be safe than sorry right?

[Darkphyre]

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, the Battle Arena explodes, killing everyone.

The End.

[masterofblades]

You know, if you have a problem with this thread, you don't need to post in it. In fact, you dont even need to read or look in it.

[420Sedai]

The lady jumps into the air, suspending herself just our of Master's reach and calls her enchanted daggars back to herself, I had not thought of enchanting them but you gave me the idea. ;) As the daggars return to their master, she begins to chant causing them to grow to three times their original size and begin spinning. The daggars are now swords and spinning in concentric circles in the area below 420 and above the master. The lady begins to lower her levitation circle tobring the swords closer to her adversary. And slaps Darkphyre so hard he will be quite ashamed to show his face in these parts again.

[masterofblades]

*Smirking, Tyrael says aloud, "You think to float out of the reach of an angel? Then I shall come to you."*

Leaping into the air, Tyrael crashes into 420 putting her into a bear hug as he maintains contact in the air. Whether the bear hug will inhibit er chanting is anyone's guess, but any attack by jumped up daggers risks hitting them both.

[420Sedai]

"aww, now isnt this hug nice why can't we just get along" says 420 as slipping a small blade between Tyrael's ribs. As blood begins to spiil fro the angels side, his previous prayer looses effect. As the scource comes with in reach she embraces it and wraps Tyrael in flows of air.

[masterofblades]

Tyrael hardly pauses as he feels the dagger slip past his rib. Just as he feels her backbone begin to crack, Tyrael is wrapped in flows of air. Slicing her weave with flows of spirit, he attempts to shield her as he falls to earth. Making the sign of the cross, Tyrael's arm and leg blades begin to dim, and the light seems to recenter itself over the wound in his chest. As he fills himself with Saidin, Tyrael concentrates, and his greatsword reappears in his hands.

[420Sedai]

420 smirks as the unsucessful attempt at a shield is shattered. She weaves four small pinpricks of fire and bores four small holes in in each of Tyraels feet and each of his hands. As she settles back to earth she wrapf herself in a protective dome of air.

[Darkphyre]

Originally posted by masterofblades
You know, if you have a problem with this thread, you don't need to post in it. In fact, you dont even need to read or look in it.

Who said I had a problem with it?

[masterofblades]

out of character: sorry about the wait, been on retreat for the past 4 or 5 days..... eh, it was better than school.


Cutting her weaves with knives of Spirit, Tyrael watches as each weave rebounds and the recoil hits 420. As she settles to the ground, Tyrael sets fire to her dome of air, lacing Saidin and Saidar into the weave together. As she begins to feel the heat of the creator, he strikes at both her shield, and her connection to the force, making her choose which to put more effort into defending.

[420Sedai]

"Hmm this would be quite a pickle," she thinks to herself and draws a figuring of a small fat woman in robes holding a staff out of her robes. "I was hoping not to have to use the angreal but such is life". The recoil of previous weaves was substantial but thankfully the weaves were kept small.
With the angreal the scource fills her to the point where it is almost sickenly sweet. After increasing her connection with the One Power she makes a slight ajustment to her sheild. Just put a little more earth here and some Spirit over here. The sheild turn in on itself and settles onto Tyrael leaving him cut off from the scource.

[Sariel Sedai]

*strides into the arena and takes in the old familiar surroundings*

its good to be home... *goes off to find her weapons and battle attire*

[Keelinnea]

*follows Sari in and looks around, a small smile playing across her lips* Well...been a long time since I was in here. I use to come as a spectator more than anything.

[CorruptOblivion]

-hovers in peering around the area- how...quant.

-Adjusts his dark blue armor,moving a shoulder spike a little higher.Kicks his feet into the ground,fitting into his boots.Lets go of his axe as it hovers where he let go of it,adjusting his gauntlets before taking a grip on it again-

Ready when you are.

[Sariel Sedai]

*laughs* ahhh for the good old days of being a spectator with you and connie and watching all the boys running around all sweaty and without shirts...

[CorruptOblivion]

-snickers over hearing,projecting his voice withen the arena- Would it "amuse" you if I fight shirtless as well? -chuckles to himself-

[Gholam]

*stretches his body feeling everything finally move back into place then settles himself in a corner in preparation for speedy corpse removal*

Just ensuring no-one trips and falls over any corpses or spare body parts folk, remember its all fun and games until someone loses a eye.

Hmm speaking of corpses, lunch time ;)

[Sariel Sedai]

*reappears wearing her usual battle garb and has a harp tucked on her back along with a bow, a long sword at her hip, and hilts of daggers bristling from places one wouldn't think daggers could go* shall we establish our rules first?

[CorruptOblivion]

-lays his axe on his shoulder with a soft ***** as he lowers to the ground,the silver sheen fading from his eyes- I suppose so,if it is desired.

[Sariel Sedai]

well... you said you cannot channel yet... does that mean you can use no magic? i'd really hate to win unfairly...

[CorruptOblivion]

Magic -scoffs slightly- I've evolved beyond that,I have powers,nothing compared to your one power though. I am not completely defenseless.


State your rules,and I shall state mine.I am sure we are both aware of no killing,and I'd prefer no maiming beyond what can be healed.

[Sariel Sedai]

i AM an aes sedai. though i am brown, my warder is quite human and so often needed quite a measure of Healing.


no one kill posts.

no channeling.

no god-moding.

other than that, any weapon or ability you may have is feasible.

[CorruptOblivion]

-ponders a moment- Sounds fair,Though..-peers at your bow- I have no powers of any range that greatly excedes my own physique.Nothing that would compare to a bow,but nothing that would keep you from getting close to me either.

[Sariel Sedai]

*takes off her bow* i'll refrain from using that...

*smiles disarmingly and plucks her harp from her back, beginning to pluck few notes and soon a small, soft tune emerges... she begins to weave her voice in and out of the melody in a soothing countermelody that makes your eyelids begin to droop...*

[CorruptOblivion]

-begins to stagger slightly,a silver sheen wavering dull to bright in his eyes before finally they close.He sways slightly but keeps his upright motion,his axe tumbles to the ground,laying there-

[Nevman]

*A nondescript man in the corner of the bar smiles to himself as familiar melodies fill the arena, taking hold of their target with seeming ease, and mentally places a bet as to whether or not things are all as they appear.*

[Sariel Sedai]

*looks over* welcome back nev... kane will be more than happy to see you as he was just bemoaning the fact that you hadn't appeared yet *smiles*

*loses her concentration while talking and plucks a wrong note, the tone jaring the sound and making her wince painfully*

[Nevman]

*Returning the smile warmly, Nevman picks up a Taint from the bar, before spawning off to the Bonding thread so as not to distract Sariel further . . . *

[CorruptOblivion]

-gives a slight waver as if he is about to fall then suddenly staggers back as if he had been struck by something,eyes flashing open in silver fire as the ground air inches in front of him begins erupts into white flame.Realizing there is nothing there he lets the silver fade to a dull spark-

How..interesting

-gives a slight smirk as he raises his left hand palm up,the silver in his eyes darkens as the air above his hand seemingly wraps in on itself into a small solid greenish substance.Splitting the substance with east he places each half into each ear-

[Sariel Sedai]

*laughs softly* well there went that trick!

*sets her harp aside as well* but i do have another trick that i do not think even your ear plugs will be able to stop...

*her skin seems to shimmer and her pale ivory complexion fades away to a soft greenish-blue hue, her eyes glowing a bright yellow, the pupils narrowed to slits, her auburn hair changing to a glowing. she opens her mouth and a piercing shriek emits that grows in intensity until the very walls reverberate with it... and over it a voice that sounds like chiming bells* i has been many a day since this place has seen my true form... perhaps my singing will enchant you *an inhuman laugh like a chorus of bells sounds, clashing dissonantly with the never-ending cry still vibrating the walls*

[CorruptOblivion]

-peers intently at the,woman?,watching with a defensive look on his face,not sure what to make of it,reaches down for his axe grasping it in both hands and bringing it back slightly still eyeing the woman?-

Well you are full of interesting little tricks arn't you?

[Sariel Sedai]

*sighs and her skin glimmers as her glamour falls back into place* of course...

*looks curious* though i am curious as to how you are immune to a banshee's scream

[CorruptOblivion]

-attempts to read your lips-

banshees dream? Ahh,your scream.Ectoplasm is an interesting substance,I still do not know many of its uses.

-gives a small shrug-

[Sariel Sedai]

*pauses thoughtfully, wondering what to try next*

[CorruptOblivion]

-Notices the woman just standing there,takes a few steps forward,twisting his axe backwards to the blunt end,eyeing the woman before continueing his forward motion-

[Sariel Sedai]

*crouches quickly, the muscles in her legs ripling as they change and she springs into the air, landing lightly on the rafters and easily dodging your attack*

[CorruptOblivion]

-looks up at the woman,pondering her next move,edges back to his starting point a few feet from where he was,crouches down in a defensive stance,hold his axe upwards while watching intently,his eyes gain their silver sheen as he searches-

[Sariel Sedai]

*stays crouched on the rafter, her cat eyes glowing yellow*

[Asha'man Kane]

*watching the fight* mmm, this ought to be good....

[Sariel Sedai]

*chuckles softly* ah yes, my old friend, you know exactly what i'm capable of, perhaps better than most here...

[CorruptOblivion]

-the silver in his eyes brighten as hes found his mark,he smirks slighty-


-The following words echoes in the womans mind-

So,are we fighting,or am I just watching you jump around?

[Sariel Sedai]

*lazily falls backward off the beam, landing lightly on her feet, her ears now cats ears peeking through her auburn hair, her hands large black paws with claws unsheathed, and you can see the twitching tip of a black tail behind her* do as you will... i stand ready...

however... do we have an aes sedai on hand? i'd hate for someone to die

[CorruptOblivion]

-ponders quizically reading your lips before removing the ectoplasm form his ears,dropping it to the ground,it dissipates before it reaches-

Why might we need an Aes sedai,Do you fight to kill? Then I must adjust myself accordingly

-Changes his stance one foot behind him,further then shoulder width apart,rotates his axe in his hands,drawing the blade around the front-