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Post by 0darkblade0 on Nov 30, 2005 3:35:22 GMT -5
(well, in real life, i'm only a kid, and i'm pretty good with a sword, dagger, staff, plank of wood, arm locks, toy lightsabres. And if i keep it up all of my life i might just be as good at it as my character! And i've never done any martial arts, i've just swung around sticks.)
Malus listned to the emperors announcement. Right, which one of these inhuman son-of-a-bi***s am i going to fight? And that was when there wsa a flash of light, and he suddenly found himself at the edge of a huge arena. His army instincts kicked in and he immediatly looked around to assess the area. In the middle of the arena, this will mean a fight, no other contestants to be seen, they are probably fighting as well, large crowd in the grandstands, that's expected at a first match, they want to see what i'm made of, so that leaves only one thing... Suddenly the sand at the other edge of the arena started to whirlpool, creating a duststorm. Malus could barely percieve a shape inside it, he tired to look as a small knife flew out of it at him, he raised his sword to block it. He then realised it was a londg shot and jumped out of the way, the knife bounced off of his protective (army standard issue) armour with a PING!
The storm cleared, and a figure draped all in black appeared.
He was holding a spear with some kind of powder on the top of it. Malus decided it was some kind of poison.
"Time to die, little bug." It said.
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Post by econdha on Nov 30, 2005 4:44:38 GMT -5
OOC: And, of course, any child who plays with sticks grows up to be a expert swordsman. Just as anychild who plays doctor grows up to be a lady killer, and any child that plays Cops N Robbers grows up to be a cop snorting drugs and eating dougnuts... Childhood can be a real bitch sometimes. Goo. Sorry, couldnt resist... *takes the Colonel for his nap and 'lunch'* You kids be good while I'm out of the room.
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Post by econdha on Nov 30, 2005 4:50:22 GMT -5
(well, in real life, i'm only a kid, and i'm pretty good with a sword, dagger, staff, plank of wood, arm locks, toy lightsabres. And if i keep it up all of my life i might just be as good at it as my character! And i've never done any martial arts, i've just swung around sticks.) Dude, I could probably kick your ass from here to Vegas stick sword fighting. I'd probably regret it, though, because if you have any sense at all, you know to go for the fingers. I cannot tell you how many times I've aqquired broken fingers playing 'swordfight.' That part is not fun. Besides, if you get enough of my fingers I'd have to switch to my right hand. Unless we're playing where two sticks are fair. In which case you'd never lay a branch on me. That's all OOC, BTW.
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Post by Psychoman on Nov 30, 2005 16:22:11 GMT -5
(well, in real life, i'm only a kid, and i'm pretty good with a sword, dagger, staff, plank of wood, arm locks, toy lightsabres. And if i keep it up all of my life i might just be as good at it as my character! And i've never done any martial arts, i've just swung around sticks.) Dude, I could probably kick your ass from here to Vegas stick sword fighting. I'd probably regret it, though, because if you have any sense at all, you know to go for the fingers. I cannot tell you how many times I've aqquired broken fingers playing 'swordfight.' That part is not fun. Besides, if you get enough of my fingers I'd have to switch to my right hand. Unless we're playing where two sticks are fair. In which case you'd never lay a branch on me. That's all OOC, BTW. OOC:*milk shoots out of nose* holy shit that is some funny shit. from here to vegas...what if you live in vegas? wont be that hard of an ass kicking. Quintus then found himself standing in front of a new target. A strange heavily armored warrior. A voice then resounded from a balcony in the stadium, "I present to you General Quintus Flavius Decius, the winner of such roman victories, The battle of Thermon! The battle of Media! The battle of Podinia! And the battle of Tarquinie! He leads the Umbrian 125th of the Roman Legion!" Quintus was surpised that all his famus battles were announced. He never really thought himself a hero but liked the idea the more he thought of it. The creature then paced him a few times and then closed in on him. Quintus saw this as a threat and ripped his sword from his sheeth and began to march towards it, with his verticaly oval sheild before him. Then, simaltaniusly they both struck and there swords contacted and made a loud clang. The creature followed up with several simple wrist turning forward slash attacks which Quintus blocked with his sword. The creature reared back with his weapon and brought it down hard, but the general blocked it with his shield and returned the favor with a strong side kick with his right leg to the chest. He then spun around and imbeded his gladius into the helmet of the strange opponet. He jerked his weapon out and the creature tackled him. Quintus sent him fly back with a full body punch with his shield before the tackle could be sucsessfully made. The knight then stood and studied Quitnus a bit as Quintus waited for the next attack. Without warning the creature then lunged forward and ran Quintus through the sholder and he fell backwards. As always being stabbed is no fun, Quitnus let out a deep scream and then rolled over, grabbed the knight like creature and threw him away. The cut hit no major arteries so the bleeding was small. Quitnus quickly picked his sword up and charged at the knight at full speed screaming the roman equivilent of charge, "AHHHHHMMMM!!" He jumped in the air and brought his gladius down hard on the creature. He was no sure where he hit it but he KNEW he made contact. Mabey it was the suddon sheen of blood which covered him from head to toe, or mabey it was the suddon gasp of the audience. But what really let him know he made contact was the fact that the knight stood with only one arm. It let out a horrid shreek and nailed Quintus in the side of the head. He uncordinally stumbled around but then came to he sence and pushed the knight down with his foot. Quintus readied his sword for the final blow. But he then remembered how the gladiators did it in the colloseum and thought, well if the emporere there does it then the empoerer here must do it. Quintus looked to the box in which the emporer watch and waited for his command. He was not quite sure the wish of the emporer. The knight like creature just stared up at Quintus, helpless to prevent his own death...
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Post by econdha on Nov 30, 2005 17:05:28 GMT -5
OOC: I don't live in Vegas, neither does he.
PS, you guys ARE allowed to end your NPC fights. If you're a PC, you win.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Dec 1, 2005 4:02:09 GMT -5
Malus stared at the odd warrior and immediatly one thought reached his mind. Assasain That word alone was enough to tell his he was outclassed, outgunned, and undone. Shame, i really wanted to last a bit longer than this. For a second, Malus felt sorrow, he had so much of his life left to live. Oh, well. It might be too late for me, but at least i can take out this bastard with me and stop him from hurting any of the other contestants, especially that roman solider, no trooper should face a warrior of this class. Malus tightned his grip on the hilt of his sword and bought it up towards the assasain. "I don't think so." He said as he stepped forward, falling into a guard position, waiting for the assasain to make the first move.
Which turned out to be another throwing dagger, coming a bit too fast for comfort. Malus automatically swing his blade in defense, and was suprised to hear the CLINK! of metal impacting on metal. The dagger bounced off hi blade and into the sand of the arena ground. A moment afte he found that the assasain was plunging the poison spear at his heart. Right, a left blok.. and. Malus changed the angle of his sword so that the spear tip was redirected past his ribs and far from it's target, while sidestepping and using the momentum to preform a swift downward swipe.
He was dissapointed to see that the assasain had blocked it with the other end of the spear. Damn he thought as he ducked a sweep aimed to remove his head and replied with an uppercut towards his opponents ribs.... The assasain was fast, but not quitefast enough as Malus's sword edge bit into the flesh of his left wrist, almost slicing it off.
The emperor's minion screamed and stared dumbly at his mangled hand. He then turned to Malus with sheer hate in his eyes "You....will.....pay...." He said through gritted teeth. "No thanks, i'm not paying for your funeral." Malus replied as he brought his blade down on the spear with such force that it was knocked out of the Assasain's remaining hand. "Now you will see what an assasain can do." the unarmed enemy said as he flung off his robe and picked it up, swinging it at Malus. Malus did nothing, assured that a mere robe would not hurt. He should have known better.
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Post by The General on Dec 1, 2005 20:00:46 GMT -5
With a blinding flash of Red, the lightning bolt struck the ground delivering to Grievous his opponent. Or more aptly put, opponents. Sadly, Grievous had learned that the battle he was to do with Darkblade was not until later, and that this was merely a...practice. But then again, what wasn't practice to General Grievous? Grievous looked the three beings up and down with dissatisfaction, in fact, he was slightly disappointed. Only three?
The creatures were nearly as tall as he was when hunched over, and odd in appearance. Their 'skin,' was translucent, like unto glass, and yet beneath it's thick surface was a thick jelly like substance. The ooze was purple in color, streaked with silver and constantly moving about within them. The middle one, The leader Grievous assumed, was slightly different. Instead of the purple, it was filled with a black and red jelly, slightly more menacing than the other two.
Their long, lanky arms hung down to their twisted back knees, and ended in menacing talons that were thin and serrated. The Red one cocked it's human shaped head to one side, inspecting Grievous. A disgusting sound came from it, like a drowning animal, and it raised a hand, pointing one taloned finger at Grievous, and shortly the other two joined in. They were mocking him.
Enraged, Grievous stood to his full height, making the creatures back up slightly. He flicked off the cape, and in the process, reached for three sabers, forgoing the fourth for now. He raised his arms, and with a metallic snap they spread into four, three of them activating a light saber. The blades hummed as Grievous flourished with them, spinning them as he struck a fighting stance.
The three hesitated, staring at his ivory hued frame. At their fear Grievous loosed a deep, guttural life that resonated out around the arena. This show of insult drew a hiss from the Red one, and slowly the three crouched, their limbs spreading at awkward angles. With a push of their powerful legs and arms they sprung into the air, hurtling up wards like blurring rockets. Grievous leaped backward just as the first landed, hitting the ground with such speed that it left a small crater where it landed.
The second one began to descend, attempting to land behind Grievous and catch him off guard. It didn't work. Grievous jumped forward, just as the second and third fell, hitting the ground. The creatures rose out of their craters and slowly circled him, hissing and chittering with one another. Their legs coiled and in a blur they leaped at Grievous with inhuman speed. At the last instant, Grievous leaped up wards, smashing down on one with one of his feet, crushing it into the solid rock ground.
The second and third were more tricky. Reaching out his remaining foot, Grievous snatched the other out of mid-air and pivoted, smashing it's skull into the small of the Red ones back, both colliding and hitting the ground with a heavy crashing noise. Grievous flipped back, landing smoothly on his feet, as the three beings staggered up, cracks in the first ones face. They snarled, and one leaped forward, it's hands gripping Grievous' chest plates. They pried, attempting to separate the plates and reveal the flesh that they sensed beneath the metal.
A howl of pain ripped the air, but it was not Grievous'. As soon as it tried to pull them apart, his new defensive mechanism kicked in, and Grievous was alive with energy that swathed around his opponent, the other two staring in blank horror. The electricity swarmed through it's body, the glass skin beginning to blacken from it, and in a shower of sparks and a scream of pain the purple ooze ignited, lighting the creature on fire. It was burning from the inside.
It fell to the ground, crying out in such a pain that Grievous had never heard before. He laughed at it's torment, looking up to gaze at the other two. As one approached, careful not to touch the others body, Grievous twirled the sabers masterfully, and in an unexpected move, hurled the saber like a spear, the blade sliding through the creature like a hot knife through butter. Much to Grievous' surprise, it had no effect. The creature continued to walk forward, and with a lunge, knocked Grievous into the air, along with his remaining two sabers.
As Grievous landed, it was his turn to surprise them. His hands hit the ground and instantly the anti-grav repulsors in his body kicked in, allowing him to distribute his weight as he pleased. The sabers landed lightly into his awaiting talons, feet clutched around their hilts. With a hiss the blades reignited, and Grievous hurtled forward, flipping along his hands. As he reached the first one, he spun around like a tornado out of hell, the blades tearing through it's glass body. For a glimmer of a second he stopped and with a disgusting slurp, purple ooze gushed from the nearly invisible cuts and it's body slid apart.
Two down, one to go. He righted himself, returning the sabers to his hands, along with the newly retrieved third one. Before the red creature had time to react Grievous swung out his leg, talons wrapping around it's head. It's talons scratched at Grievous' foot which held it's head passively, the claws tearing through the metal, leaving large gashes. It stopped struggling as Grievous forced it to it's knees, realizing it's fate. Grievous studied it for a moment, then paused to speak.
"Now Die." He hissed, tightening his foot, he crushed it's skull, the Red ooze erupting into the air, and sliding over his talons, oozing to the ground along with shards of it's broken skull. He let the body hit the ground, and in a red haze all three bodies vanished.
Grievous faced the sky angrily, sabers deactivated. "Is this all you have, you pathetic excuse for a God? You dare pit me in an arena with nothing more challenging than those vermin?" Grievous snarled.
"You are a coward, you sniveling bastard, and I await the moment where it is your blood that spills between my talons, that it is your life that slowly ebbs away into oblivion as I destroy you and your weak excuse of a game."
"Mark my words, filth, before this game is finished, Emperor, you will know the true meaning of pain."
Without another word, Grievous retrieved his cloak, and put it on, twirling around, the cloak billowing around him, he entered the portal before him, leaving nothing but dust behind him.
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Post by econdha on Dec 2, 2005 6:11:12 GMT -5
*shifts a little uncomfortably* Please tell me you went over my head and got Red's permission on this. Please?
I don't care to think I'd warrent such blatant disregard of my instructions otherwise. That's not a threat, it's a plea.
However, if you did not get Red's permission for this...I'd like to direct you to my instructions IC as the Emperor on the previous page.
I'm gonna hope you talked to Red or didn't see the preveious page, and this isn't just major disrespect on your part. *grins hopefully, then hides behind someone you like*
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Post by Redeemer on Dec 2, 2005 17:31:20 GMT -5
As Grievous walked away the Emperor raised a hand, the doors shutting infron of him. "You really dont know who you are talking to," The emperor brought his hand across as if he was slapping something in the air, and Grievous flew to the ground. "You are weak compared to my might, now be silent." The Emperor turned to the ring "Next!"
(Didnt get my permission, but it is already up, and it is good. so no big.)
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Post by Psychoman on Dec 2, 2005 23:17:10 GMT -5
The emporer then nodded to Quitnus and he brought his sword down on the enemies throat and blood squirted out the sides like crushing a paistry roll. The enemy was done and he survived his first battle. Quintus sighed and then walked out of the arena. After that battle he felt, maby, just maby he could destroy one of the other strange creatures. He was filled with hope.
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Post by Karat'Ka on Dec 3, 2005 3:04:00 GMT -5
Vautren faced his first adversary across the arena - a twisted, dark-armoured knight, whose black-clad form stood in stark contrast of Vautren's gleaming silver and gold. The figure was lithe, strong and inhumanly tall - almost nine foot, to his eye, wielding a dark blade. It shrieked an inhuman battlecry and charged forwards, crossing the hundred-foot gap with shocking speed.
He braced himself, wielding his Nemesis sword double-handed and consciously channelling his power into it. Then, the Black Knight was upon him. There was no time for conscious thought; Nemesis blade and black sword whirled in a blur of strikes and parries as the knights exchanged a dozen blows in the space of a few seconds, both combatants switching rapidly between high and low strikes. Blue fire flew from the impacts as the sorceries of the two swords warred.
Vautren sideshifted clear as the Black Knight switched to a deep lunge, then switched tactics. Shifting his sword to a single-handed grip, he generated a glowing field of force around his left hand. The Knight spunand came at him again; this time, Vautren did not defend but attacked. He managed to partially deflect the Knight's blow, driving within his guard and connecting with a fist to the creature's belly. There was an explosion as the blow connected, shattering armour and flinging the Black Knight away onto its back. Vautren charged after it as it began to regain its feet; but the knight was fast, and managed to roll partially clear. Nonetheless, Vautren's blow cut into its shoulder.
That was all a Grey Knight Captain needed.
On reflex, Vautren poured a wave of raw warp power through his sword into his opponent. In a split second, a wall of blue fire engulfed the Black Knight, burning its body from within and tearing its demonic soul apart. The charred ashes of its form collapsed to the ground.
Vautren made the five-pointed sign of the Aquila as he gave thanks for his victory. Silently, he walked back to the edge of the arena to await his next opponent.
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Post by The General on Dec 3, 2005 4:37:30 GMT -5
((Ah, I missed those posts. I actually thought we were to create our own characters to fight. Hm, oh well, if Red says it's fine, I'll leave it be.))
Grievous laughed, getting off of the ground. "Perhaps I don't, perhaps I do." He spat in reply. "Does it really matter? You've shown how much of a God you are by dragging those you think worthy into a Tournement for your amusement. But what does that leave you in the end?"
"A spineless coward who can't win a fight without summoning on those unholy powers of yours. Perhaps when you grow a back bone, I will deem you worthy to even talk to, until then, I will be in my quarters awaiting the next round." He shot the silent Emperor a venemous glare before he turned, pushing open the doors to exit the area.
He cared not of for the lives of the other competitors, nor found their fights interesting. If they lived, so be it, if they died, all the better for Grievous.
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Post by Redeemer on Dec 3, 2005 7:48:41 GMT -5
"Fool, i gave you no permission to leave! You will stay and watch the tournement!" TThe emperor twirled his hand around and the door slammed again and sent Grievous spinning in a wind to infront of the arena.
"Maybe you will see my true power you pathetic fool."
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Post by Karat'Ka on Dec 3, 2005 17:08:39 GMT -5
Under his helmet, Vautren smiled. He did not care for the strange machine-daemon; indeed, he had no doubts it was his duty to destroy it if possible. But the creature spoke accurately; the 'Emperor's' childish responses and gaudy displays of power were those of a creature desperate to impress others. He had seen it time and again with the Daemons of Chaos; the more grandiose and aggressive a Daemon's schemes, the more desperate the creature was. The truly dangerous ones - legends like M'kachen and Ghargatuloth - stayed invisible, or needed nothing more than the effects of their actions to inspire fear. Absently, he wondered what greater deity the patron of these games sought to impress.
Whatever its reasons, though, this 'Emperor' wielded more raw power than anything he had faced before. Some good could yet come of his presence if he destroyed more champions of the Dark Powers in combat; and perhaps he and this General Grievous could find a temporary common cause...
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Dec 4, 2005 4:15:10 GMT -5
Malus gasped in pain as the razor sharp cloak sliced him in the kidney. Right, so i was wrong. At least that kidney was already busted as it is. Malus ducked as the assasain tried to behead him with the robe and scraped his sword against his shin armour. The gunpowder caught alight and the blade of his sword became a flaming weapon. Malus swung it at the cloak and dived back as the cloak caught alight and burned the asssins hands before it became nothing but a black crispy streak in the sand. "Try cutting me with it now" He said as he sliced off the assasain's remaining hand. The (literally) unarmed opponent screamed in pain and fell to the ground, writhing as the acid did it''s job on the skin on his arm.
Malus kicked the defeated foe and rested his sword over the foe's neck,trying to decide wether to kill him or not.
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Post by linamar on Dec 7, 2005 3:06:29 GMT -5
Alexander Kaiser stood in the middle of the arena, with his eyes closed, anticipating his first battle in this tournament. The crowd of gods chatting fell silent to his ears. The strange smells of this place faded to a cool, clean scent that washed away all emotions. The feel of the alien sun became less foreign, and he could feel the presence of his Gods with him.
The hair on Alexander's arms stirred as air was displaced from somewhere in front of him. His opponent had now appeared in the arena. Still he kept his eyes closed. Time enough for battle in the moments ahead, but now, peace. He clasped his hands around the middle of his staff, and whispered a prayer in his mind to Trychohan, the God of Battle to see him through with few injuries. Anything less than victory was inconceivable. In the back of his mind, he heard a child's laughter. His prayer had been received. Now, it remained to see if it would be answered.
Wind whistled around a blade, aimed at Alexander's head. Lazily, almost contemptuously, he brought his quarterstaff to bear, and was rewarded with the sharp clang of unbreakable wood meeting cold steel. Now, the warrior opened his eyes to find himself locked in a test of strength with the lithe form of the female demon. She strained, but Alexander was locked in place, his feet perfectly spread, his hands wrapped around the body of his staff at the perfect angles to prevent being moved if he did not want to move.
Alexander's gift imparted to him the knowledge of everything that could possibly be done with two combatants locked in this position, without distracting the warrior from the fight. He knew she would not try to bring the other end of her blade to bear; it would be child’s play to block it as well. He felt, more than saw the muscles in his opponent's legs tense, and knew she would try to flip her way out of an encounter she could not win. She pulled her bladed quarterstaff free from the lock Alexander's heavier, thicker staff had locked it in to, and backflipped to a safer position.
At that same precise instant, instead of being thrown off balance by the maneuver, Alexander swept the bottom end of his quarterstaff into the spot where the she-demon would be, instead of trying to follow her. He was disappointed to see his staff bite into her arm at the elbow, and streak down a few inches as she completed another flip. The strike should have removed her arm.
So, she's a little quicker than I would have given her credit for he thought No matter, she's still mine.
Renhaman came to rest on the balls of her feet eight feet away from the human, surely beyond his reach, and the range of the spiked staff he carried. Her quarterstaff had still not tasted his blood. Cutting through that thin armor would be no problem. And the fool thought it could protect him? The cut leaking blood down her arm she paid no heed to. It would be healed when she won. And if her Master willed that her life be forfeit to this one, then a cut would not matter then, either.
Alexander watched his quarry circle him warily, trying to find an opening in his defense. Not much chance of that he thought. He had been training for twenty years in every known fighting style, letting his gift be exposed to almost everything possible. He was introduced as a Master Fighter, an all but unattainable rank on his homeworld, but he was more than even that. He was a Perfect Fighter. One little she-demon, no matter how quick she might be, was no match for him.
She rushed at him, then, in a pathetic attempt to catch him off guard. As she dashed in a zig-zag pattern, ghostly images appeared all around her, a misty aura revealing her intentions, another manifestation of Alexander’s ability. The closer she came, the fewer images there were, the few remaining gaining flesh and substance. Every image except for the reality of his opponent and a double of her swinging the blade to slice off his legs at the knees faded. Alexander had less than a split second to decide on his counter. He considered using his not-inconsequential agility to flip over the staff, but remembered the demon's speed, and decided he would rather not be gutted like a fish. Even though cuendillar protected him, it was best to stay smart.
As the demoness began her maneuver, Alexander swung his staff, his hands purposefully slipping down its handle to give it a wider range with which to hit the target. The wood hit the right side of her body, and he heard the snap-pop of ribs breaking. The wood hit her with such force that her own strike cut through the air a good foot in front of him.
Renhaman snarled as she was hurtled through the air, and felt her anger quickly grow from being simple homicidal rage to a blood fury. She would rip this human's head off and drink from the gushing stump. What little she left could water the dust of the arena. His staff she would put on display, to show that no mere mortal could possibly be a match for one of the Emperor's best. His armor, she would keep for herself, to smell his lifeblood every day. They were near enough the same size. She rolled to her feet, roared out her fury for all to hear, and flew at the corpse that would soon lie down for the final rest.
Alexander smiled as the demoness flew at him, almost faster than his eyes could follow. His battle sense told him it would soon be over. His enemy's bladed quarter staff was tucked neatly under her arm, the point of the blade pointed at his heart. How...droll.
The blade came up from under her arm, aimed to rip him open from groin to skull. If he blocked, the next logical move would be for her to sweep his legs out from under him, since he would be focusing on keeping her blade from ripping his body apart in an upward sweep, a tougher position to defend from. After he was on his back, he would be at a bigger disadvantage. So he copied his opponent, and backflipped away from her, careful to not let the points of his staff get fastened in the dirt.
She came at him, faster, swinging the blades frenziedly, but with control, to save her stamina. Even the humiliation of being thrown like a rag doll couldn't make her become stupid in battle. Alexander knew that his leaping and flipping backwards would tire him out more quickly than would her short rushes and faster strikes, and knew that it would be his battle decision that would end this.
Instead of flipping out the way of the latest barrage, he met them face on with a shower of sparks, his battle sense never leaving him. He knew the moves; it was simply a matter of getting there. And he knew her speed now. She was fast, but so was he. Time seemed to slow down as they sparred, for that was all it was now. He had seen her moves before, and his body remembered.
And now he thought dispassionately to finish this. He allowed a block to extend his arms a hair farther than it should have, and she was quick to take the perceived opening. She swung the other end, ready to take his arm off right below the shoulder. There was a clang! as her blade met armor...and nothing. His cuendillar armor had absorbed her blow like water, as he knew it would, and he was quicker to take advantage of the opening in her defense. He swung, a short swing, and the blades that circled the top of his staff bit into demon flesh, drinking her blood, staining the metal black. He thrust, and the oaken top caught her in her belly, bringing her off balance. Another swing, and the wrist holding her blade was shattered, and the blade went flying from fingers that would no longer work. An overhead swing, with all his power came down...
...and her other, uninjured arm blocked it. But only for a moment. The power behind Alexander Kaiser's swing swept her arm downward, into an angle her shoulder was never meant to experience, and it ripped free from the socket. Her howl of pain became a death rattle as two spikes rammed into her brain at different angles.
The demoness flopped limply onto the ground, her black blood left to water the dirt. Alexander whispered a prayer of thanks to Trychohan of Battle, and a prayer of lamentation to Lokerad, God of the Hunt, and thus, of Death, and walked from the arena. Maybe there was time to see another fight before the second round.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Dec 7, 2005 3:42:51 GMT -5
Malus stood over the fallen Assasain, breathing heavily, trying to get the adrenaline out of his system. The black blade of his sword rested on the defeated opponent's neck, burning through the fabric of the black scarf he wore an slowly eating away at his flesh. The assasain lay there, teeth gritted against the obvious pain of his two destroyed arms. By all rights he should be screaming out in pain, something is wrong. Malus had been fighting for 12 years, and knew what someone who had lost 2 of thier limbs and knew they were defeated should act. The poor fool does not know he has lost. Malus decided.
The assasain breathed slowly trying to arrest the bloodflow of his arms. It was working. "You think you can win this tournament? Fool! you are notihng, and i'm going to prove that once and for all." The assasain said quietly. "I failed to kill you before, but now you are finished."
It was him, Realisation dawned on Malus as he finaly figured out who had tried to kill him, who had tried to end the competition for him early. The one thing he failed to notice that the assasain had drawn the small knife in his boot, and was preparing to swing it into Malus's back, ready to finish what he had started.
Malus stepped back from the assasain and kicked him in the side. The assasain groaned. "IT WAS YOU!" He spat, anger clouding his reason. "It was you all along, you were the one who was trying to rig the contest. Well, you failed. And you're going to die because of it. Right here. Right now. Slowly." Malus said he swung his sword and the blade bit into the assasain's leg. This time, the assasain did start screaming. "You are defeated." Malus said. "And now!" He called out, for all to hear. "The Emperor knows who his little sabotuer is."
He leaned close to the assasain's ear and whispered. "The emperor will find a better way of killing you than i ever could, and now that he knows your little secret, you are going to die in agony. All i have to do is watch and laugh!" "No, you will die!" The assasain screamed as he kicked out with his boot, the dagger driving towards Malus's spine. Malus whirled on the spot and sliced the incoming foot off before the knife could hit home.
"No, i am not defeated, but you..... You are lost." Malus said quietly, as he thrust the assasain's own spear into him and walked towards the arena exit, and the applause started.
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Post by Redeemer on Dec 9, 2005 21:17:01 GMT -5
Matthus walked upon the ring, his black cloak tossing in the wind.As he stepped on he looked at the emperor, "So, what do we have here today," The emperor nodded and a red cloud appeared. Out dropped Gelhan, the Black Knight.
"Hmmm, pretty tough looking, armor seems to be able to take a beating. But the sword, seems pretty dull. Oh well," looking at the emperor he said,"This wont take long I'm afraid your minions have weak minds." Matthus had studied him not only with his naked eye, but with the force. This particular opponent was no challenge to Matthus's gripping.
As Matthus lifted his index and middle finger up so did Gelhan. Dropping the sword the Knight held at his throat with his hands. It gasped and choked, even whimpered. Then Matthus just opened his whole hand, the creature gasped in air and screamed, a bulge had formed under his armor and it continued to grow. That is, until a red liquid squirted from it and Matthus stretched the Knight's lifeless corpse at the Emperor's feet.
"I told you Emperor, weak minded fools, just as you." Matthus had scanned the emperor and it didn't seem like he had a brain. Nothing to battle with is. "Stop!" The emperor yelled as Matthus began to walk off. "Lets see if you can even battle without those abilities,Here is your new opponent"
With a lift of his hand, another cloud appeared and Matthus was hit with a bolt of lightning. As it encircled his body, Matthus arched and gritted his teeth at the pain. His black tattoos all over his body seemed to glow with the red energy. Then with a panicked whisper Matthus said, "What is this........i cant feel it...."
The first time since his childhood since Matthus didn't feel the force was scaring him. He couldn't sense what was going to happen. But this guy thought he was helpless he was wrong, it had been a while but he was no loser at Hand-to-Hand. A matter-o-fact, he was great at it.
"Ill show you Emperor, i wont even use my blade." Matthus somewhat regretted those words as a slender figure entered the ring with a spear.
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Post by econdha on Dec 12, 2005 18:56:35 GMT -5
Red this makes no sense. Traditionally instead of putting different people's dialogue in different colors so you can tell whose is whose, one starts a new paragraph.
Also, you too are fighting some random thing, and I KNOW you saw my post. I don't know why you chose the knight, when obviously that would be the easiest for a Jedi to beat.
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Post by 0darkblade0 on Dec 14, 2005 4:52:28 GMT -5
OOC, i've won my fight, now what?
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