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Post by Spooky on Nov 24, 2005 0:10:01 GMT -5
((Eh, I'll pass, sorry if it's lame but I'm having a break from RPG's for a while.))
U'ila ran into the palace unaware of what was going on, on entrance, he fell to the ground. He slowly, with his might moved his hands down to see a crossbow bolt in his chest. He topple to the side and. Then everything went black. Time seems to stop when you die, voices a faint echo. Even pain, a mere sting. Too bad he wasn't dead, things hut like shit. Loks like he'd be goign to the Medical Center soon...
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Post by econdha on Nov 24, 2005 3:12:24 GMT -5
Michael, you weren't even here. Stop spamming my Tournament!
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Nov 24, 2005 4:01:10 GMT -5
Malus Darkblade hacked at yet another tree with his machete Damned good-for-nothing jungle. he thought as he tried in vain to clear a path with his blunt weapon. "Arg, it's no bloody use. This jungle is conspiring against us, i swear it!" He shouted as he sat down, gasping for breath. We've been fighting to stop these damn terrorists for 7 years and the bastards have only gotten tougher for it! Malus shook his head, and wondered why the hell he had joined the army in the first place. I guess i thought i could make a difference. Bah. Malus got up and stormed back to the rest of the squad who were camping in one of the few clearings that had managed to make. Corporal Mike looked at him and said: "Did you manage to find a way outta here?" Malus tried to smile, tried to reassure the young solider that they would get out of here yet, but things like that didn't come as easily as they did before.
"What happens will happen." He simply siad as he walked back to his tent. He was halfway there when he noticed that one of the trees was moving slightly more than usual. He walked over to get a closer look and dropped one of his ammo pouches. he crouched down to pick it up and almost had a heart attack when a small, feathered dart flew right over him and into a solider's leg a good 9 metres away. He knew the dart was intended for him. "AMBUSH!!" He cried out and grabbed his gun, diving behind a fallen log and cringed as 3 darts thudded into the ground beside him. By the look of them, those darts came from.....THERE! He noticed the terrorist perched up in the branches of a tree. Hello asshole he thought to himself as he shot the terrorist down from the tree, the enemy drpooed his blowpipe and fell backwards, bumping into the occasional branch as he fell to the ground. Malus quickly turned and saw another sneaking up behind sergeant marcell. He aimed his rifle and was about to pull the trigger....
And all of a sudden, he couldn't move.
The terrorist pulled out a knife and slit Marcells throat, then went on to kill another 3 people before fading back into the treeline. No... please... no. Malus stared in shock as the encampment was slaughtered, he tried to move, to help his comrades, but the invisible barrier of terror kept him in place. Not a single solider survived. Why? Then the terrorists left, and Malus foung he could move again. It was my fault... if only i was not so damn afriad, i could have saved you. Malus knelt down and wept silently.
He didn't even notice when the lightning bolt hit him.
Malus finally decided to get up. I should bury them, it's the least i can do. He opened his eyes, and found himself on a cliff edge.
What the hell?
Then he heard voices off to his left somewhere. He automatically checked if his combat gear was there, it was, even the STEYR. He grabbed it just in case, and ran lightly over towards the voices. He then saw the whole scene. "Oh SHI-"
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Post by Redeemer on Nov 24, 2005 10:49:28 GMT -5
(I like the intro but you did a few things wrong, you need to post your character stats in the Ultimate Tournemnt thread. There are no guns in the tournement so i hope you can fight aswell. Other then that it is good.)
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Post by Spooky on Nov 25, 2005 0:29:47 GMT -5
((How was my intro ))
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Post by Spooky on Nov 25, 2005 0:33:17 GMT -5
((Could you please retype that?))
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Post by Redeemer on Nov 25, 2005 0:36:36 GMT -5
(How is it difficult to understand to post what is acually happening from the time you get to the palace to leaving your room. You are healed after being taken by the lightning.)
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Post by linamar on Nov 25, 2005 1:45:05 GMT -5
(Sorry this took so long for me to get up)
Alexander Kaiser stood meditating at the top a giant sequoia tree in a faraway forest, waiting for the sun rise. With his eyes closed, he faced to the east, ready to receive the sun's warmth after a night of a harsh chill. One hand held his unbreakable oaken staff, with it's ring of spikes at either end. The other rested against the solid trunk of the tree. He concentrated on the image of nothingness, a limitless black expanse, suppressing all thought, all emotion. There is nothing but calm.
The sun warmed the air around Alexander's skin, and he opened his eyes. The morning sky was stained with royal purples, deep golds, fiery reds, and eye-burning yellows. A wind arose, disturbing the branch he was perched on, and he tightened his grip on the sturdy trunk. A fall from this height would be most remiss.
The air turned a hazy red, and Alexander heard a loud crack, before everything went black.
When he awoke, Alexander found himself on the ground in the middle of an idyllic meadow. He rolled over, pushing himself to his feet. His right hand touched polished wood. Oh, good. His staff had made the trip with him, to wherever here was. The sky was the perfect shade of blue that you could lose yourself in. The sun was the perfect shade of yellow that made you think of fresh churned butter, and just cheered you up with its natural sunniness. There was even a sparkling sea off the edge of the cliff. It was very...paradisiacal.
He turned around to find a giant castle looming overhead. It's mass blotted out the sky. The golden spires must reach into the heavens, touching the homeland of the Gods. Deep impressions in the dirt leading towards the castle gave Alexander the idea he should enter into the colossus.
The doors leading into the castle were flung wide open, as if in anticipation of the arrival of Alexander Kaiser. He heard the muted clomping of hundreds of feet, and ran fluidly down that direction.
Alexander arrived in the middle of a great feasting room, with hundreds of different individuals of all shapes, sizes, even species. A thread of adrenaline thrilled along his veins. If this came down to a fight tonight, he stood a reasonable chance of taking out most, if not all, the humanoids. One doesn't fight for twenty years without picking up a few tricks. But for the nonhumans here, it would be different. Alexander had little experience fighting animals. It would behoove him to watch their movements, and learn what he could.
He sat at a table in a darkened corner, his staff propped up next to him, within easy reach. When the food came around, he took and ate everything with his left hand, leaving his right hand free to fend off any potential attackers. Though he was hunched over his food, he was acutely aware of every movement that was made, from the vibrations in the air passing over his skin.
He heard a loud boom, and saw a red bolt of lightning slam aganst someone across the room. He could see no easily discernible source of this bolt, raising his wariness another notch.
Suddenly, a huge figure dressed in blood red garments appeared. He boomed out a welcome, admonished against fighting before this grand tournament got underway, and gestured, creating a black vortex. As everyone filed towards it, with Alexander at the back, he thought Ultimate power? Count me in!
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Post by econdha on Nov 25, 2005 3:32:13 GMT -5
The sparring room in the palace of the Nae'Blis seemed larger than Jasha remembered it. Thammugard stood opposite her, his broad form even more imposing than usual. He radiated darkness. She stepped toward him, thrusting with the practice blade. He deflected her and she brought her knee up into his ribs. Her teacher grabbed her foot in one hand, and, dropping his sword, he grabbed her shoulder in the other. With a quick, inhumanly strong twist, he broke her leg at the knee, wrenching the bones until her femur started to crack and splinter. She fought down a scream. She couldn't seem to even twist with him to lessen the damage. "Practice over." He threw her to the ground. "Walk it off." Jasha struggled to rise, Thammugard was the Nae'Blis, she had to obey him...her leg wouldn't support her weight. Loosing patience he stepped forward, placing his hands on her head. He took control of her mind, forcing her to stand, to walk, despite the agony. Jasha could take a great deal of pain, but this was something her body simply couldn't do, there was no support on her right side. She collapsed several times, feeling the bone shards dig through her muscles. Then she lost her composure, and started to fight. "no." She forced herself free of his control. "You're hurting me!" She drew on Saidar, the One Power and shook the floor benieth him. His face went very, very dark. His eyes filled with Saa, the black spots that came with channeling the True Power, the Power of Shaitan. He tore Saidar out of her grasp and sheilded her from touching it again. "Now you learn why I am the Dark One's Chosen right hand." ___________________________________________________ Trembling in terror, Jasha returned from the memory dream. She sat up and pulled the covers back. The scars Thammugard had carved into her body that night stood out purple from her skin. It was far too cold in here. Old wounds ran around her legs, some as thick as her wrist, and up her thighs. They came together where the flesh of her hips was fused into a single large scar. She had learned the price of defiance, even in self defense. She had never defied Thammugard again as long as he'd lived, but he had never shown her trust again, either. That hurt worse than the wounds even she hadn't been able to heal, even now that she'd taken his place as Nae'Blis. The bedroom the demon had provided was what a warrior would expect. A bed, a table. She had only the one change of clothes, which was presumably true for everyone. If this tournament lasted long, this place would smell like home. Jasha dressed and opened the door, walking down the hallway. Cajun emerged from the room next door, and just beyond her a tall man carrying a quarterstaff. He nodded politely and indicated they should preceed him. "Ladies." He bowed "Alexander Kaiser at your service." Cajun seemed impressed with his chivalry. The Nae'Blis was not. "I'm Cajun, this here's Jasha. We're real pleased to meet you, Mr Kaiser." The girl spoke boldly for both of them. Reminding herself that the teenager was an ally, Jasha nodded to the staffsman and walked down the hallway to the great double doors. She pulled them open and stepped through into the blackness. On the other side the floor was rough hewn stone. The light was brighter, though it had an angry glow. It seemed the demon had dropped the pretense of blue skies and meadows again. It hadn't sat any better than the firey Pit of Dhoom feeling the place had had before. The three stepped out onto a platform ringed with spikes. Meant to keep the combatants from the crowd, or the other way around. "THE NAE'BLIS!!!" A voice bellowed, causing Cajun to jump. "Aes Sedai of the Grey Ajah, Ruler of the Shadow, Bearer of the True Power Sa'Angrael, Ambassor of the Dark One, Shaitan's Earthly Liason, Supreme Mistress of the Westlands, Windfinder of the Atha'an Meire, The Hammer of Compulsion...JASHA NINEWINDS!" Surprised by the sudden end to the long list of titles, Jasha thrust her sword in the air as a cheer went up. <i>What the bloody ashes does the Hammer of Compulsion mean??</i> She wondered. Some of those titles were really reaching...Bearer of the True Power Sa'Angrael?? Was that supposed to impress people? She felt a gentle urge to step back and let Alexander take center stage. Looking up, she saw the Emperor looking at her intensly. She acceeded to his request, and stepped behind the tall warrior. "Master Fighter, Victor of a Hundred Death Matches, Savior of Realms, Knight of the Order of the Wolf, Envy of the Darkness, Destroyer of Flames...ALEXANDER KAISER!" He smiled as though ticking them off in his head. Then it was Cajun's turn. "Fifth of the Five, Storm of the Sun, Desendant of the great Ticolocan, Legacy of the Maya, Standard Bearer of the Eratolu, Warrior of the Red Stone, Last of the Quetza...CAJUN!" The girl smiled and waved. She was still wearing her nightshirt over her trousers. It was a silly image. Jasha felt sorry for her. They were 'guided' into the stands to await their turn in battle. Cajun kept staring up at the Emperor, and stroking her satchel...what had she called it, a nuclear reactor? "How does that provide power?" Jasha asked her, calling her attention from the demon. "Well it's uranium, it's a kind of unstable metal. It gives off particles...little bits of power. It's encased in lead, which kinda keeps the power in one spot until I'm ready to use it. It's not really a nuclear reactor, just radioactive. That's a real bad explanation, though." Alexander was listening with interest. He asked a question Jasha didn't really follow, and the two went into a discussion that was more in depth than Jasha could comprehend. She idley watched the warriors being announced, but 'Arm of the Great Constable' and like titles meant absolutely nothing to her. Was she the only warrior from the entire Westlands? OOC: Posted with Linamar's permission to play his char. Posted with GM authority. Your Arena is a 100 by 100 foot stone platform surrounded by a spiked cage. In the stands are the various supreme beings of the worlds you hail from. The contestants have access to a small section of the stands, as well as a series of tunnels under the arena. There are lots of places to find a minute for your char to meditate, or mingle and make alliances. There is NO fighting outside the arena. The fighters will have NO direct contact with the audience (Think Gladiator.) Here's the Matchups.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Nov 25, 2005 3:46:14 GMT -5
Malus grabbed the sniper scope he had salvaged from his rifle before it was taken and peered through it down at the others. He had slipped out silently, and upon seeing someone get killed by the gate, decided to climb. It had taken a while, but he had the perfect vantage point to think about things for a while. The listening bug he'd put on one of the others to listen to what this 'Emperor' guy was saying.
"If that is all there is for questions we can procede." The emperor said, then some kind of portal opened and the others started going through.
Why am i here? and where the hell am I? Malus had been pondering from his position on top of one of the towers at the west edge of the castle. His guns had been confiscated from him by one of the "Emperor"s henchmen, but his ammo and grenades remained. Great, I don't even have a gun? Malus decided to watch the actions of the other 'çompetitors' to get some idea on how to kill them easier. Kill them easier? I'm becoming cold-blooded already? This disturbed Malus, but, after serving in at least 2 wars, he knew it was nessecary. He decided to go over what he knew about his 'énemies'
Ok, there was a Roman solider. Hmm. Roman. They had tactics, strategy, discipline, honour. Something tells me all of those will work against him, but then again, they were pretty brave, strong, physycally fit. But not my biggest worry. Malus Silently wrote the roman off as a serious threat. Werewolf. He's going to be tricky to take down, stronger than us unchanged humans, but just as smart and possilby more cunning. weapons: claws, teeth, brute strength, I'll just have to be careful, maybe i can turn the others against him early, everybody resents werewolves. Then malus had an idea. An ally? he would be tough to kill, and a werewolf would be a strong ally Malus put that thought on hold and switched over to general grevious. Ok, Grevious, slow, powerful, six arms, really god armour, probalby vunerable underneath it, can jump suprising heights, probably better reflexes, possibly will use lightsabre. Weaknesses..... Slow, Overconfident and is used to gettign it's way. maybe if i anger it i will start makign rash descisions, make mistakes, show other vunerabilities. Maybe if i can do something about that armour. I'll have to be careful with that one!
But... will i be able to actually kill them? If that final moment comes, will i be able to finish it?
Then he noticed movement on the roof above him. He used the scope to peer at it and grabbed his combat knife defensively. He knew the empreror's rules, but if something attacked him, Darkblade would sure as hell fight back. The increased the zoom on his scope and saw some kind of insect-like creature.
The first thing he noticed was the tubes sticking out it's back, the second was the tail. it was enough to make a desert scorpion run for cover, and those things had NASTY tails. The creature climbed the walls as easily as Malus could crawl on the floor, and as he noticed the claws and the chitinous armour, he realised this thing was a killing machine.
Malus jumped back as the creatre leaped towards him, landing heavily with a thump. Malus held the knife in front of him and said through gritted teeth. "One more step and this knife will go right through your heart, if you have one." The creature raised it's domed head and started hissing, and, unbelievably, malus understood what it was saying.
"That would be a bad attack." The creature said as it spat on the paved ground below it. The green spit fizzed and burnt right through the floor, and the one under that, right down to the ground level. Acid spit, NASTY. "So you can kill me with a single thought, but what will the emperor do if you try? huh?" Malus countered, wishing he had his STEYR. "That would not matter, as long as my death served the hive. And besides, i wish not to kill you anyway." The creature hissed and loweed it's tail. malus lowered his knife and relaxed a little. Ok, so i know what's on the top of the threat's list, but this thing seems to have another idea. "What do you suggest?" Malus asked, wondering what would happen there on. An alliance, it would serve the hive to have an ally, and i can smell the scent of power on you. This sounds good. Malus thought with a bit of relif, but why him. "If you need power, why don't you ask the marine guy?" malus quizzed. Not that power, you have the stance, the walk of a hunter, and that's what the hive needs, you will make a good addition."
"Ok, i'll help out this hive of yours." Malus finally decided. and together they climbed down and just managed to head to the portal before it closed. Malus looked at the room. It looked exactly like a Dark ages feast room.
Malus Turned.
The alien thing was gone.
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Post by The General on Nov 25, 2005 4:15:03 GMT -5
I've watched the movies, so i know how to deal with that one, and besides, he can't run away from this fight. Malus also ticked him off the 'threats' list. ((Oh yes, that was so realistic. In case you haven't noticed, we're all from alternate universes, and this isn't actually sucking people from games and movies. There never was a movie. However, since how you don't fell me as a threat, I've had it rearanged so we fight first . I hope you don't mind leaving the Rp before you even really got a chance to start.))
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Post by Karat'Ka on Nov 25, 2005 4:43:28 GMT -5
Tiberius Vautren did not sleep that night.
As a Space Marine, he did not need to sleep in the way that an unaltered human did. The modified structure of his brain was capable of a partial shutdown, allowing him to rest while remaining partially alert. In this way, a Space Marine could operate for weeks without letting his guard down - and one way or the other, he did not expect this ordeal to go on for that long.
The room at least was reasonably spartan, in contrast to the over-rich food, while the cold stone floor was comfortably like the interior of the Strike Cruiser he called home. There was a small font in the corner, together with cleaning tools. Slowly, Vautren removed his massive battlesuit piece by piece - a time-consuming and clumsy activity when unassisted. He filled the font, made the sign of the Aquila and murmured a battlefield consecration. Here in the warp-world it might count for little, but as always it was the spirit of the action which mattered. Carefully, he cleaned his armour, intoning the ritual atonements to the suit's machine-spirit.
As he worked, Vautren reflected on his armour. The suit was ancient, far older than he was, and had been handed down between generations of Grey Knights; it could not readily be replaced. The armour comprised layers of adamantium and ceramite, interwoven with psycurium runes of protection and warding. It had withstood anti-tank missiles, plasma cannon hits, radiation, daemonfire, sorcery and warp-blades. The augmetic muscle-fibres within it linked directly into his own nervous system through his spinal plugs in a half-understood miracle of human science. Even the joints, normally the weak point on power armour, were protected by sliding plates of adamantium - a legacy of the suit's original design for exceptionally hostile environments. It was his priviledge to bear this ancient totem into battle, and the suit would be far more of a loss to the Chapter than his life. Slowly, reverentially, he cleaned the filth of battle from its shining plates.
Vautren then turned his attention to his Nemesis sword. Younger than the suit, he knew, but still a work of art. He carefully cleaned and rededicated the weapon to the service of the Emperor of Mankind.
Finally, he turned his attentions to himself. While out of the suit, he worked through a few battle-rites to stretch his limbs, before beginning the slow process of donning the armour again. After five hours of cleaning, ritual, prayer and exercise, he felt ready, and allowed himself to go into half-sleep.
Barely an hour had passed before a robed seneschal entered the room. The figure was silent, but beckoned him to follow. Hefting his blade, Vautren walked after it through now-thronging corridors into the vast arena. He looked up into the crowd, and was unsurprised to see familiar daemonic figures among them. One he recognised - Khak'ak'hozann, the dog-headed "Fist of Khorne", who Vautren's battlegroup had banished at great cost some two centuries ago. No doubt he was representing his master in this place. Summoning his psychic powers, he projected a shimmering double-headed eagle - the Imperial Aquila - as he entered the arena, defying the daemon spectators. A roaring voice rang out as he did so.
"Brother Captain of the Adeptus Astartes Grey Knights, Paladin of the Ordo Malleus, Space Marine, Hammer of Daemons - Tiberius Vautren".
Surrounded by daemons, about to fight for his life, Vautren did the only thing he could - he prayed.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Nov 25, 2005 5:32:43 GMT -5
((My guy's from REAL LIFE [Iraqi War] And is an avid STAR WARS fan))
"You should not have refused the feast" The Alien, who Darkbade had called grid (Due to the green grid pattern on it's head-dome) Reprimended Malus. He's probably right, but i'm takign no chances in this, and besides, i'm in the amy, i can go without food and sleep for a bit. Malus stared at the weird sword that lay at the edge of the bed in his Dormotiry. Maybe it was a gift from the Emperor, but malus knew better than to think that. if this Emperor was the kind of person wh Darkblade thought he was, then he simply sa us as rats and was preforming an experiment. Sure, it was a costly one, but this Emperor guy seemed to be pretty rich to have his own dimension. Malus Decided after this was all over, he'd ask the emperor where he'd gotten one and how much they costed. If Grid and i are going to be allies, then i'd better explain why i'm starving myself to him
"One of the Emperor's minions, or even the Emperor itself, may be favouring one warrior or another, and if that happened, they woud want to weaken thier enemies, and the easiest way to do that was to poison thier food. And i'd rather die fighting than vomiting all over my shoes." Malus explanied to the Alien, and grabbed his hip flask and took a sip. "Besides, i packed my own lunch"
The alien looked at him (it was hard to tell, as it didn't have eyes) and nodded with sometihng Malus assumed was respect, as every creature knew that eye level was one major part of respect (pecking order and such) and to lower your eye level was a sign of respect (but it was still hard to tell, as it didn't have eyes) so Malus just assumed that it was.
"You speak wisdom, i was right when i thought you would be of help" Grid replied, and chittered in what must have been to it what whistlig or humming is to humans. Malus smiled at the thought that a 6 (or larger) foot killing machine was showing respect to a mere mortal human! They sat (or crouched) in silence (except for some occasional chittering) Even if i'm not gonna sleep tonight, i might as well fortify this room, as it is my H.Q. Malus decided after a while and noticed that there were some brooms, a chandolier, lit candles, an anvil (for soem random reason) and, of course, Grid. First, traps need to be set Malus thought about ideas for traps, and eventually found an idea he liked.
They worked on it for the rest of the night, and Malus shuddered uncomfortably as screams echoed throught the halls.
Finally, before the first rays of sun could be seen, the Room was as imprednable as the castle itself, for the base WAS made from the castle.
Malus and Grid inspected thier handiwork, it amazes Malus at just how sharp you could make broomstick handles, and what a great squishing trap steel wool, an anvil and a chandolier made. Not to mencion the acid trap Grid had made. And with Grid watching the air ducts, it's ready. He then produced two small remotes and opened them up, and after adding some steel as an antenna and some modifications, they made good remotes to the trap.
And if these are captured, only we know which button deactivates the trap. He handed one to Grid, and they settled into an uneasy rest, staying up in shifts.
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Post by Setg on Nov 25, 2005 12:27:20 GMT -5
((Can i get a profile on Alexander so i know what i'm fighting)) Do we start the fights now or do we wait? I can't post now til Sunday anyway - sorry!"
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Post by Psychoman on Nov 25, 2005 14:20:03 GMT -5
Light filtered in through the windows and laid on Quintus's closed eyes and filled his vision with a dark orange. He slowly and reluctantly opened them and had a brief moment of panic when he noticed he was not in his own bed. Then the memories of the preceding days came back to him and he remembered he was no longer in Macedonia. He turned and rose from his bed and his sore and stiff muscles were relieved as he stretched them out. His sleep was restless as all through the night he heard the screams of the other warriors. Whether they were dying in battle or in torture they still haunted him. The thought of battle with the strange creatures he had seen was unbearable. He walked around to get his muscles alert and the blood flowing. His armor rested in the corner with his sword laying in his bed. Ever since he was attacked, at 23, by a Gaulic assassin he never slept without his gladius.
Quintus paced the room uneasily. After sizing up most of the warriors, he felt it in his bones he would not survive this cruel joke the gods played on him. He only wished that his death would be an honorable death that would bring no shame to he or his family. Quintus dropped to the ground and began to warm up with push ups. The mass confusion of yesterday had shown to him that he would have to be ready at a moments notice. After 130 push ups, Quintus rose and stared at his armor for a moment, and then walked to it and grabbed his leather underlay and strapped it on. He then proceeded to strap his pauldrons, gauntlets, chest plate, gorget, boots and gloves. He slowly slid on his helmet and sat back down on his bed and contimplated the weaknesses that the metal giant he was soon to face. He would be slow...so that means that Quitnus would have to be fast. Quick fast strike against the joins is all he could do against the titan. Any other strike would be futile and would result in death.
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Post by Redeemer on Nov 25, 2005 15:36:19 GMT -5
(Not trying to be mean but, dont you see what everyone else is doing, why do you have to go off and chane everything, when you open the door the arena is there.
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Post by econdha on Nov 25, 2005 15:57:14 GMT -5
Up against Kroenen...That sucks, dude.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Nov 25, 2005 19:23:10 GMT -5
((Well, i'm nothing but an ordinary solider without his rifle, and i have to fight GREVIOUS?!?))
Malus Darkblade stared at the large oak door at the end of his room, Malus had been thinking hard about what was going to heppen after this tournament...thing. Do you just go back to your dimension with the powers, or do you rule them all? Malus knew he had never wanted Ultimate power, but why he did not back out of the tournament confused him, every warrior was the best of thier worlds, most were at least twice the size of him, and had weapons and armour of thier own, while Malus was just your average solider, not even a high-ranking one at that. Why me? why was I chosen to fight for my kind, i'm no hero, it wouldn't take a genius to see that. Malus then turned his gaze to look at the sword. Why is that here? It's probably a previous tenant's, or something. Malus decided to get up and take a closer look. His tired mucles protested, but years of fighting had taught him that his body was allowed NO say in what he should not do. If it had, he would have died in Afghanistan, probably. Malus bent over beside the sword.
It's blade was black as midnight, and had a faint gold glow to it. What harm is there in picking it up? Malus thought, and wrapped his hands around the handle and lifted.
The sword didn't budge.
Crap, the only weapon i can get my hands on and i''m not even strong enough to lift it. I'm not gonna survive this. Malus turned, dissapointed, and sat on the edge of his bed. Hopelessness swamped him. I'm going to die, i'm going to die slowly, painfully, and fail the human race. Malus held his head in his hands, and realised that was what he was, a faliure. I couldn't even save my squad, and if someone else get's this power, then Humanity will be done for. Malus numbly got up and huddled in the corner of the room, next to the acid pit trap. I will fail my race just as i failed the others. Malus shook as tears made thier way down his face.
Who the hell am i kidding? I'm no hero.
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Post by econdha on Nov 25, 2005 19:53:59 GMT -5
*curls up in the corner next to Malus* Wow, that is certainly a bleak outlook. *gives the poor guy a hug* Sorry 'bout your species and stuff. Don't worry, when I win, I'll leave Earth whole as a nature preserve or something.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Nov 25, 2005 20:40:26 GMT -5
Malus nodded. "Thanks" And that was when he realised he wasn't talking to himself. WHAT THE-? Malus Jumped up and drew his combat knife. "Who are you and how the hell did you get past the traps?" he looked around wildly for an escape option, Grid had been gone for a few hours now, and Malus didn't want to fight someone alone. runrunrunRunRunRUN!!! His mind was screaming, but somethign told him to stay. "I asked you a question!" he shouted, the fear stripping him of his mind and eaving him with only his instincts.
Luckily, he had good instincts.
He jumped backwards and landed on his bed, from there he leaped towads the anvil resting about 3 feet up. he grabbed onto t with his hands and hauled himself up and grabbed one of the custim spikes from the side of it and held it threatiningly at the infiltrator.
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