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The stream continues past and the badge lodges in the ground, the stream flowing over it and pooling before it rips back, tearing the badge back with it. Sealing back up he turns his maniacal gaze on Trei once more, his hand darting up towards the man to fire off a globe of blood. This one was rather unique, set to seek out other bodily fluids not attuned to itself, and seeing as Trei was closest... The effects would be simple. Sticky, disgusting, balls of blood that explodes and gets all over everything.

The ball strikes the wall, gets squishy, but even though it is deformed, it does not detonate. Instead it rolls up the wall to chase Trei, a second globe fired from Craven's outstretched palm with the same design. The few morsels of blood leaking from Trei's nose did not remain the only source of blood dripping to the earth, Craven's entire form seems to leak the medium of life onto the ground about him, expanding and drawing in small pieces of debris.

-=SPLORTCH!=- The first is hit and just really kinda sticks to the sheathe, growing around it and being all sticky and fun. -=SPLURT!=- The second is hit and also begins to wrap around the sheathe and get damned sticky. With the volume of blood present by this time, the sheathe would be nearly covered, reaching up to take Trei's hand as well. Lets not forget Craven though, flinging a third orb as he bleeds all over the place himself.

With the shethe covered and now in flight, it seems to slow in midair as...the blood grows wings?!? Hellz yeah b***h, that s**t has wings. Instead of slicing into the oncoming bloodball it veers off to the left to circle around, the third ball continuing on unhindered as a fourth is launched off. Craven continues his bleeding as his pool of blood expands, continuing to pick up what lays upon the ground.

As with the first onslaught the orbs stick and then the sheathe is launched off at a ffth orb of blood, only to veer off to the right, blah blah blah, lather rise repeat. It is at this moment that the sheathes come back to have their fun, sweeping in from low to the ground for an upward attack aimed to slam into his gut and then rocket up into his chest cavity. The sheathes would not rocket up, of course, but the blood upon them certainly would, aiming to drill into his body with a thrust and spin. The pool continues to grow and suck stuff up, the radius reaching nearly ten feet as he is not actively focusing upon it.

Craven's wild eyes seem to flare as the fifth orb rebounds off the wall, reflecting to launch back at Trei, chasing him all the way. The blood from the second sheathe quickly flowing away from it to rush out and expand Craven's influence to a good 13ft, the first sheathe crashing down and extending it similiarly to 16ft in combination with the blood leaking from Craven. As yet he seems to make no attack, but between his slowly expanding influence, the orb chasing Trei, and the glow in his wild eyes, something be happenin mon.

The glow within Craven's eyes began to pour out into the surrounding pool, quite literally at that. A river of blood streamed down from his eyes sockets in a torrent, carrying with it the ominous glow that turned the area crimson with the light of the liquid life. Even as the orb continued after Trei Craven seemed to slide down and looked as if he were kneeling.

Our never-so-silent hero paced along the pathways, out for an early morning stroll. His strides were short, as he had no intention of finishing such a walk in any degree of time. Unlike most, he was not training but simply clearing his racing mind. The cool air cleansed as it passed, it was more gentle than any of the combatants in this tourney.

After tasting so much bloodshed in the arena, and feeling so much anger in the dormitories, it was better to be by himself. Long had it been since he had talked to someone with kind intentions, but it was to be expected in such a grandiose battle.

His eyes passed over the two warriors clashing in the moonlight. Were he not tired of the war all around him, he would be dazzled. It was almost poetic, were they not carrying weapons made to kill.
"All this organization and hatred just makes people go crazy, I guess."
He told himself abruptly, like he needed convincing.

As soon as all this fighting was over, he would go to a quiet town, get away from the city and the arenas for a while. The sight of blood should appear unnecesary to any eye, so it amazed him that there was such money on the line. But after saying all that, he didn't carry the look of one who is convinced. After all, he still carried his own sword, and he still pulled no punches.