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A battle Stadium for literate roleplayers. 

Tags: Literate, Fighting, Battle, Arena, Levi 

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Vahn Fah
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PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 2:21 pm


"You will come around to see for yourself....with time."

His eyes never broke from gaze in the slightest. For a moment, only a moment, a flahs of jealousy coursed his body, but i was short lived and never registered on his face.

"I can take you there.... to see Destruction.... Then you can make the decision with all the cards on the table. The world needs healing.... and I intend to do just that."

The distortion around them both would increas in it's pulsing, as if at any time his hand would push itself deep into her own body and yank hold of her inner self.
PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 2:44 pm


*Sierra tried to step away from the man, but his hold on her held firm. As the pulsing and distortion about them incresed, she felt her stomach recoil and heave. Swallowing past the wave of nausea, she tried to focus her strength on just remaining standing.*

"N-no..."

*That brief moment of jealousy pricked the elf maid's empathy channel, but before she could think on it her strength gave out, the pulsing about her became too much and with one last attempt to break away from Victor darkness swallowed her.

With a groan, the last of the elf maiden's strength washes away and she collapses, unconcious, crumpling to the ground.*

Lady Sierra
Crew

Eloquent Inquisitor


Vahn Fah
Captain

Original Member

7,300 Points
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
  • Treasure Hunter 100
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PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 7:00 am


"One down......" His eyes closed as he held her body against his own, supporting her now dead weight, fully upright.

Effortlessly heaving her up and over one shoulder, the distortion seems to fade, and ebb away, once again revealing the calm sky that hung over Latent. It was now becoming late in the afternoon, as he began walking down the street, with lady in tow.

.....three more to go.

He took a bite from her uneaten fruit, moving down the street, and turning a corner with little regards as to where he was going. Just that.... he was going.

~~

The tired eyes of the seemingly young man bore a hole in the table top as he stared aimlessly at the surface, recounting the number of events that had taken place over the past several days. He had committed atrocities beyond words in his quest to liberate the world from its prison of bondage, yet he could not help but wonder......if he had had a soul of his own, one that was not wrapped within the restraint of "destiny", would it not now be stained in the blood of his victims?

A gentle knock on the door interrupted his thoughts however as called gently for the intruder to enter. Though he knew fully who was on the other side of the door, it did his aching heart good to see her.

"Master Victor, preparations are nearly complete. Would you like to address them?" A white haired female asked, inclining her head to gaze more fully at the prone body that lay outstretched upon his bed......It was the female he had brought with him the day before.

"No, not just yet," he said, his words hollow and deadened by the weight of the destiny he fought desperately to break free from. He had learned, within the past few months, that opposing fate was a daunting task, and one that took every ounce of will he possessed to continue. Yet even with his unshakable mission, his resolve was nevertheless brought to his own attention from time to time. He believed now he understood why individuals never challenged fate. The strain of such efforts, was proof enough.

"Master, would you care for some tea," the young woman said, moving towards the serving area and preparing the kettle to boil. "If.......you'll excuse my impertinence sir, you look rather tired. Would you perhaps like to rest?"

"No," he said, shaking his head in ready reply. "I'll get my rest when this is all over."

"Very well sir," The female responded, poorly masking her own concern over the young man, but accepting his wishes regardless. "Then, may I ask master, what is troubling you?"

A sad, meaningful smile tugged gently at the corner of his lips as he thought how best to phrase his concerns. "Fate is proving more difficult to defy than I expected."

"Yet I believe you are the only one who can free the world from bondage. Is that not your wish, Master?"

"Indeed, it is my only wish," he said, a slight chuckle echoing from his lips. "I wonder how history will remember me. Fumei, do you think others will look upon me with contempt?"

"Captain," the female responded, turning from her tasks to address her master. “You yourself taught me, that history is written by the victor (pun! pun!! zomg)). We will simply need to see it as a history written by you," Fumei replied, moving tentatively closer to the young man and placing her hand upon his shoulder. "And for that history, I beg only that you use me how you see fit."

"Thank you Fumei. I only hope our esteemed guest can see things so simply."
PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 8:13 am


Count Victor Ven Long
As the ghoul brought it's leg back to knee him, he lurched forward, pulling the ghoul holding him off it's own leg and using his own super-human strength to fling him away, disloacting both arms in the middle of the throw, his arms sliding out of the ghoul's armlock. This would put him in a ducking position. Thus avoiding the swipe at his neck, assuming throwing the ghoul didn't cause the one swiping to be flung as well. Being that low to the ground, he noticed the ground was acting abit odd. Even as he snapped his arms back into place automatically. The spike came, he threw himself to the side, rolling several feet as the spike gouged into his side and cut him open. However, remarkably, being undead means physical pain does very little (i.e. nothing) to your concentration. The entire time his chanting never ceased once. This entire thing was done with that high-level of inhuman speed he had displayed earlier.

His blood was notably black and not very fluid, in fact, mere moments after it left his body, it would start to evaporate as if being boiled. Steam was rising from his wound as he placed a hand over it to cauterize the wound.

"RELEASE!"

He called out, just as the local area was engulfed in the previous firey explosion as he unlocked more of his vampiric power. Now looking notably vampiric now as he stood up straight, ignoring the large gash in his side which had ceased bleeding. He extended his hand, his sword appearing between his fingers.

"Looks like we have yet another addition."

He said quietly in that rough voice of his as his eyes glanced very briefly in the general direction of the dancing girl. His heightened senses now working properly in this level. Fire licking off of his body here and there.

"No matter." Red light traveled up his sword, causing it to glow brightly as the air around him shimmered drastically due to the intense heat he was now radiating. His non-sword hand was tucked partially into his pant pocket as he rested the now super-heated sword on his shoulder, which remarkably didn't seem affected by the heat at all. Though his clothing was smoking a small bit. A bit of blood had leaked out of his mouth from the stomach wound. And he licked it away, revealing his fangs once more.

"Listen kid, you fight pretty good, despite the fact you had help, you made me power up. Not many can do that."

He was talking in a relaxed, natural manner, as if fighting people with ghouls under thier control and throwing elemental attacks and such at him were a normal thing. The heat was still steadily rising, causing the ground around him to crack slightly.


One ghoul was thrown, temporarily out of commission. The knight and the ghoul to his right both shot off to the sides, avoiding the beast being tossed and getting back in position. The knight was at four o'clock behind Victor, the ghoul at eight. The one-armed ghoul remained positioned behind the vampire, which was rather key.

Ven Long would be leaning downwards and throwing the first ghoul, while one-arm would be bending its legs, rearing back to leap. The ground spike would come and the ghoul would already have its legs wrapped around Long's waist, fangs aiming to rip out Victor's throat while he was rolling around, and finish the chant rather pre-maturely. While biting he'd bring his remaining arm to the back of the vampire's head, shooting about ten needles into the back of his brain stem.

The poison, whatever kind of being he was, would undoubtedly work from there, if the piercing of his brain stem wasn't enough to kill him outright. Nevertheless, the knight would turn and follow after the rolling Count, poising his blade for a thrust through the chest. This would happen around the time he finished the chant, if the ghoul failed to silence him, the blast and sword strike occuring simultaneously. Thus, his heart or one of his lungs would be pierced before the knight was sent flying backwards along with the grabbing ghoul.

Shouyin


Lady Sierra
Crew

Eloquent Inquisitor

PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 9:19 am


:: A small child lay upon the mossy carpet at the feet of a great oak. She looked to be about 5 by human standards... Her shoulder length, crimson hair a ruby contrast to the emerald of the forest around her. Something cold and damp pressed against the child's pale cheek, and as she opened golden eyes to gaze upon it, a smile crossed her lips. A tawny coated fawn, sprinkled with white lay down beside the young elf and rested it's head cheek to cheek with her. Casually the little elf cast one of her arms around the animal's neck in a sleepy hug.

A blanket of sunlight filtered through the forest's canopy in warm patches of light that dappled the forest floor and the tiny pair curled up upon it.

Watching over them from the glen's edge was an elven woman clad in elaborately ornamented green healer's robes, and not a stones throw away was an elegent doe, her bright obsidian eyes ever watchful over her fawn.

The little elf girl napped, unaware as to the changes that were about to rock her world...Unaware as to the devestation she was about to face.

The wife of High Councilman E'karis Ethel'stan, the Lady Shay'llen'dria watched her daughter nap away the golden afternoon.

The wedded healer often brought her daughter to the small forest outside of town. It lay at the foot of the trails that led up to the Kastian mountains... the trails that led to her home. The sculpted and shaped perfection of the Celestial City, the citizens and council's rigid traditions and customs... the buildings, the plants and trees... even the people... Molded to the Council's ideals. The city suffocated her, and she would suffer from pangs of home sickness... longing for the fresh mountain air, she would bring her child to the small unaltered, forest.

It was here that Shay taught her daughter in secret, to appreciate natural beauty... and guided her daughter's developing mind to grasp the importance of Free-thought.

Her time with her daughter was numbered... The council had decreed that she was now old enough to begin her studies under teachers the council would hand-pick for her.

Shay'llen'dria knew her daughter housed great potential, and that her destiny would not be an easy one.... But every time she thought of the council stripping the happy-go-lucky child of her care free outlook, and molding her into an obedient puppet who would dance as they commanded when they tweaked her strings... The healer wanted to throw up... Yet her husband had alreday demonstrated how powerless her position was in the matter. One hand idoly rubs a purpled bruise on her upper arm, she had treated it with salve as soon as the Lord Ethel'stan left that morning. It no longer hurt, but the marred skin served as a reminder as to why she hated that man with such deep seeded loathing and contempt. ::

----------------------------

:: In a white marble hall, the young elf girl, about 7 in appearance now... is seated at a desk, a grey robed teacher looming over her shoulder as he drills her on cantrips and incantations. She scrawls sigils and runes out on parchment only for the teacher to tell her write 10 more, always finding some unseeable flaw with her efforts.

After hours of the monotenous drill, the young girl is whisked away to another room, where two courtiers and a lady concil member force upon her the role of a coutier, reminding her that she must be a lady before she is a scholar, that she must be skilled and graceful, for she is to be queen and the council can hardly count on the young prince to rule the nation, but that she must be able to support her betrothed's image for it would never to do have the elven race appear weak to the world.

Class upon class... drill after drill... law after law... burned into her mind. 'Training to recieve her destiny' they told her. ::

----------------------------

*Sierra's fists clenched in her sleep, her sweat dampened hair clinging to her forehead as her whole body tensed, caught in her dream state she fought to push the memories away.*

----------------------------

:: The girl, now about 9 or 10 by human standards... Is crouched behind one of the massive pillars in the hall of her father's palace.

Raised voices... Struggling... Father tells mother that the Council fears that they can't bring her powers under control... that the increased number of accidents is a sign of her increasing power... And that already her potential rivals half the seated members... and that it's development shows no signs of stopping but rather increasing. She is a threat... That she poses a danger to the Council's ideals... That they voted on her death and it was unanimous. It's for the good of the people.

Her teachers... her father... Want to kill her.... Why? Why?! She didn't understand! She had done everything they'd ever asked of her!!::

----------------------------

:: Fleeing... Mother is saddling one of the horses, she tells her to be strong. They're going to the mountains where mummy is from. They can never come back... it isn't safe.

Daddy drags mummy down from the horse. Mummy slashes at him with a dagger that she had tucked in her sleeve... Daddy plays with fire and mummy burns away... screaming... then nothing. The smell.... She throws up and then Daddy is standing over her. She's crying and screaming for mother... But mother won't ever get up again... Daddy says it's okay because she'll join her... That sometimes Destiny's change and that this is for the best. She hates him! She screams at him that she hates him! He backhands her into the stable wall and she gasps for air...

Rage... Incredible Rage... She's not alone... A voice sings to her in her head... She's bigger... older... the skin on her back splits open and ebony feathered wings emerge flecked in blood. A tail lashing behind her... her nails turn to claws... We shove them into Daddy's chest and rip out his heart... we have a sword? We cut off Daddy's arms... and then his legs.... then his head.... We destroy.... everything.... Blood... Choking on Blood... Drowning on Blood.... ::

----------------------------


"VAAAAHN!!!"

*Sierra shrieks, sitting bolt upright as she comes out of the nightmare... the taste of blood in her mouth, the scent of it clinging to her nostrils... the wet warmth of it clinging to her skin like a phantom.... She looks about her wildly, Where is she? Where's her lover? For the second time in a space of 3 days... The elf maiden awakes in unfamilliar surroundings... still dream ridden she backs into a corner like a wild animal... the primal fear that's gripping her plain on her features.*
PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 9:20 am


(post revised to include the other person in the fight, my apologizes)

Count Victor Ven Long


04 Spriggan

Chatty Lunatic

PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 11:18 am


Count Victor Ven Long
As Shouyin attacked at him as he finished the incantation...
No, not quite. In fact, he wouldn't even finish the incantation and would be torn by not one, but a bed of spikes. Backing up...

Our girl was getting more and more annoyed by the second. Nobody, and she meant nobody should be living this long against them. She quickly contemplated other avenues of attack, but they would all mean that she'd eventually have to drop the shield that she was rather fond of. They would also take too long to perform, and she was already in the middle of a Song + Dance combo. So, she would just use what she had, but stop playing around. Step from the background, and make the Count pay attention.

When the Knight's one-armed ghoul went to leap on him, she jumped as well. As soon as her feet touched the ground, her hands spun quickly in a churning motion. The result of this... her landing created another undetectable wave in the ground, one that Victor wouldn't notice probably because he was about to roll and slice apart a ghoul. Wether or not he did see the one crack in the ground didn't matter at all, because a huge spike wasn't coming out at the end of it. Instead, a bed of spikes in a rough circular pattern- two feet high, two foot diameter out of courtesy for her ally who was also attacking- rose, and was just perfectly timed with his rolling. The churning in her hands made the layers all spin like a blender's blades.

Now, Victor was fast and this wasn't contended. But what with his rolling and dodging, he would probably get hit with this and torn up pretty badly. But it doesn't end there! If that thing even grazed Victor's clothing, then another two layers and two feet of spikes instantly sprung up to finish the job. All of this chopping and grinding would turn the count and ghoul into a bloody pulp. Hopefully, her Knightly ally could see and take one more step back to make sure his foot wasn't caught or anything.

Song of Shields + Dance of Titans.
PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 1:05 pm


The room was silent, save the consistent ticking of a nearby grandfather clock. The pendulum swinging back and forth, with a dull order.

Soft candles lit the room sparingly, enough to reveal the four post bed that held her lithe form. Soft netting shimmered in the candlelight, causing it to sparkle every now and then, the sweet scents of sunflowers prominent within the linen and sheets of the bed itself.

There was no other soul within the room at that moment, no camera's, no invisible spy or ethereal being. She was truly alone, within the spacious, and richly accented room.

Directly in front of her, to the left, rested a oak desk. A plumper candle had been placed there, and a open book of sorts appeared to be open, a pen laid against the edge.

Vahn Fah
Captain

Original Member

7,300 Points
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Lady Sierra
Crew

Eloquent Inquisitor

PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 1:11 pm


*Slowly shaking off the fog of the nightmare that tried to cling to her conscious and pull her back under... Sierra slowly came out of her fear... Or rather, out of her animalistic state.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't afraid. She brushes her bangs from her eyes as her feral gaze scans the room intently, drinking in the details of her surroundings.

They flick to the desk, her slitted pupils twisting into crescent moons before returning to normal. Her gaze rests on the desk, illuminated by the larger candle.

Taking a moment to regulate her breathing and ground herself... The elf maiden slips off of the bed cautiously. She moved with liguid grace, much like a cat as she slinked towards the desk and looked upon the book that ley there.*
PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 1:54 pm


[ Message temporarily off-line ]  

Vahn Fah
Captain

Original Member

7,300 Points
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
  • Treasure Hunter 100
  • Conversationalist 100

Lady Sierra
Crew

Eloquent Inquisitor

PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 3:02 pm


*The elf stared at the pages in the book a moment longer, re-reading the last few lines. Fumei... the name rang a bell... But she couldn't place it. Too many thoughts were flying around in her head, and she was having trouble fitting them together.

While everything told her she was alone in the room, she instinctively felt it was an illusion... but she was too weak to tell for sure. Her surroundings just didn't feel right, and if she looked at certain places for too long it made her eyes itch.

Sitting on the edge of the bed she stares at the book thoughtfully. What had been done to Victor to warp him so much? And what on earth did he need her for? So little of this made sense... just what was Destruction? She wasn't sure she wanted to know... but it seemed to her, it was something she needed to learn about as much as she could either way.

Then it hit her again... a wave of dizzying nausea that caused her all ready pale skin to pale further, as she concentrated on her breathing and accepting the sensations that were assaulting her, into her body.

Gradually the nausea faded and she was all left to ponder what was wrong with her? Was this just a side effect of the coma?

She sat and waited... waited for Victor to reveal himself to her. She knew he was there... he had to be.*
PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 3:32 pm


(having forgotten that the dancer girl was even there, I shall now re-do my post to include her action, as that was rude of me. I apologize.)

As Mr One-arm decided to leap on him as he rolled, his sword, ever vigilent simply would just poise itself to slice the sucker in half. Since it had to roll along with Victor, and was focusing on him, it would be unlikely that it would detect the flying blade as it sought to tear into his body. Even so, as he rolled, when his arms snapped into place and the ghoul's fangs neared his body, he simply snapped his fingers, engulfing both the ghoul and himself in a large explosion. He himself was protected from his own fire magic simply from his nature of being resistant to most fire magic. The ghoul however, was now contending with an upclose explosion followed by a magic sword to the face.

Of course, while said rolling was going on, the ground decide it was going to take a page or two from the Ginsu book of a**-kickery. His eyes widened slightly as he did indeed notice the crack in the ground. He had been a little wary of earth attacks after the last spike. But he wasn't quite expecting what was following.

Hmmm... quandry. His hands were busy attacking the ghoul and Shouyin, so he couldn't blow it up. His sword had NO ability whatsoever to defend him in this situation. However, he IS still a vampire, and that leaves just one option left to him.

"s**t...." he was indeed slashed here and there and everywhere by the initial assault as he spun and twisted at very high speeds, however, when the second wave came, his body just seemed to thin and spread into a thick concealing mist. Mist which quickly spiraled up towards the sky, spreading out and seemingly heading off in different directions. Either he had run away, was trying to trick them, Or simply making a strategic retreat. In either case his sword seemed to shimmer in place somewhat and then vanish altogether.

On a building not too far away Victor slowly reformed. Bleeding from many wounds which were slowly being seared shut. his blood pooling underneath him as he sat with his hands resting on his knees. His head down, strands of hair covering his eyes. After afew moments he grinned slowly.

"I must be getting rusty, I didn't even get to my first stage of transformation. However, these young kids have just warrented me being serious. That stone attack would have seriously screwed me up. I guess I wasn't paying enough attention to her...."

He said this as his sword slowly materialized in front of him and floated before him. He reached down and scooped up some of his blood. Even as the rest of it started to evaporate. He reached out and started to draw his finger down the sword from it's hilt all the way down to the -third- rune of the five runes on the sword.

"h...hey boss, are you sure you want to go that far?" The sword said abit nervously.

Victor just chuckled quietly.

"What can I say? I'm inspired." He said with his vicious grin on his features.

"Now, enough chanting, enough theatrics, enough talk. I'm going to put the kind of pressure on them that they had put on me." The sword started to hum and spin and pulsate with a dark necromantic aura.

"Kids, now adays, I swear, you try for some witty banter, you get a lifeless doll for a personality. Oh well, maybe next person I find will actually strike up a conversation with me. Ahhh the good old days when necromancers would go on for hours about thier plans and superiority........I miss those days."

He was talking to himself.

"that's a sign of old-age you know." his sword said in a sarcastic manner as the first rune on the blade vanished. Light traveling up and down it's edges as the glow started traveling down towards the second rune.

"well.....I'm old....so shut up." he commented as he leaned back and looked up at the sky. In afew more minutes, it won't matter, now will it?"

Count Victor Ven Long


Shouyin

PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 4:23 pm


The one ghoul was put out of commission, ripped to shreds, and while the final manoeuvre seemed to've worked perfectly, it also appeared to have failed just as equally. Looked like the fellow had something up his sleeve for every situation, while possessing no apparent weakness. By now his race was rather obvious though, the knight considered running into the nearby markets, grabbing some garlic, and chucking it at him, but that was pointless. This whole engagement was.

The knight turned, and signalled at the dancer, indicating in a curt forward flick of his two fingers that it'd be best to simply ignore this thing and move onwards with the assault. Deciding not to wait for a response, and leaving his free comrade and the occupied one aside, he headed forwards towards the center district, his four remaining and entirely intact ghouls in tow.

This would all happen around the time the Count began his little personal monologue.
By the time he finished, at least the knight and his squad would be long gone.
PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 4:57 pm


Underground Latent. The sewers.



The tide was going down, as it always did beneath the city's streets. In the tunnels and caverns, blots of slippery rock were one by one forming new island, emerging from the lowering waters. Kids would probably come down later, skipping on the rocks, falling in the dirty waters and hurrying back home crying for mommy. Others, older, bolder, would come down looking for "treasures". Things that the high tide had washed off down the canals.

That was Bernard's job.

Bernard, middle-aged, brown-haired, mouse-eyed man wrinkled to boot and dirtier than the sewers he was strolling through, made his living by going down in the underground and picking up old pieces of nothing, cleaning them and re-selling them to random nobodies. This day, his main goal was to find scrap metal, that he'd give to the smithy later; a thank you gift for for sharpening his old set of kitchen knives.

"'nudder day o' the ol' spelunkin' for ye mighty treause, ain't it?" He chuckled to himself. "Eh shouldn' be too hard t'day, wot with only gettin' some riff'n raff o' scrap tin fer th'smithy-man t'tinker with." Bernard's speech was about as articulated as his teeth were clean. No need to precise that his mouth was downright rotting. Still, that would stop him from grinning broadly and getting to work, singing miners' rhymes to himself, not minding the fact he had never been a real miner.



Bubbles [v3]


04 Spriggan

Chatty Lunatic

PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 4:58 pm


She went from momentary glee to high annoyance in three seconds. Happiness came when her attack initially hit, and Victor was getting torn. Irritation came when he mist-formed, and the Knight called for her to end this. She may have seemed the youngest for this, because it almost looked like she was about to throw a tantrum.

Instead, her arms dropped to her side and she turned slowly, before picking up her pace to walk beside the knight. All five of her ghouls accompanied her. Though the rhythm in her step and hands was gone, she still hummed to herself. Well, that was a big waste of time, patience, and a ghoul. Consider the two squads gone.
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