|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2009 8:41 pm
In here, you'll get to see a battle between two familiar faces. Nothing fancy. Bare bones posts, nothing really complicated. Just so you can get a feel for the system.
My character will have the skills Fleetfoot and Nihil.
My opponent's character will run Deadeye as their skill.
The battle will commence as soon as I get a post made. <3
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2009 8:53 pm
How often did one appreciate the feeling of wind through one's hair, or the feeling of simply existing? The slight tingle that ran through one's body when the lungs were filled with air, the feeling of the muscles pulling and contracting as cells did their coordinated sweeps to pull the mind along in a wonderful game of catch as synapses fired and nerves ran wild. The wonderful sensations of life itself were things that far too many took for granted- something that she never intended to do again.
Granted, however, she never expected the chance to breathe again, either. However temporarily she was granted this generous boon of life, she intended to live it to its fullest.
The roar of the audience that greeted her was nearly deafening. All around her, as high as the eye could see, stands rose from the perimeter of the circular dirt arena, filled to the brim with clapping men and women cheering on the impending bloodshed. Were they human? She couldn't tell- they were all cloaked, their voices low and guttural, but the sounds of cheering were nearly universal. Lifting up her proud head and letting those curled, scarlet locks catch the breeze that swept through the arena, the dancer's delicate feet moved forward with purpose.
A legendary sash was held in her hands, her sapphire eyes blazing as she set foot into a field that would spell her opponent's death- or her own.
But what did it matter? She was nothing but a reanimated corpse.
Teifi the Fleetfoot charged her opponent as soon as she saw him emerge from the gate, wielding the suddenly twisting material like a whip towards his face.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2009 9:17 pm
A figure wove around the pillars in the hallway of a corridor, a calm whistle echoing through the halls. The figures footsteps, while slightly uneven, were more than close enough to a rhythm to give a more musical tone to the sounds. The figure wandered into and out of the shadows of the ornate pillars, closed eyes making him all the calmer.
A shout from down the hall, a pittance of pillars away, echoed through the room, like dynamite in a decrepit cave. "Last call for the combatant!" it cried. The shouter rattle a gate behind himself, as if he were about to close it. All the while, the whistling did not stop, until the gate began to quiver.
The whistler strolled nonchalantly from the shadows nearest the gate, and entirely dismissed the guard as he began to quicken his pace. He'd been given a special invitation for this day. This opportunity was for a fight to be remembered for the exhilaration, not for the antics of a few select ingrates.
Of course, the heaping pile of gold as the prize held no bearing on his enthusiasm, either.
As the man began to step into the light, he began to laugh. He was with an audience, how splendid! His golden hair shone in the midday sun, though a hand quickly shoved it from the face it so easily obscured. The drooping locks were pulled back, tied with the rest of the hair into a ponytail. With such an important fight, one could chance nothing.
Arashe's coat was an extravagant sapphire, adorned with silver fringes and buttons. He would be fighting at his best, so he should look his best, he thought. With a contented sigh, Arashe pulled out a bow from his back. This bow was a deep golden, with two spikes jutting off of either side in the center. At the front of the center of the bow's arc, there was a red gem, one that shone in the sun as the bow was twirled about. The quiver on his back was of the highest quality, and packed to the brim with arrows.
Sharpshooter Arashe Nyilas had come with the Ichival in hand, and he planned to walk out of this fight victorious.
Before he could even attempt to exchange banter with the woman, she charged, swinging about a sash like it was some sort of whip. Knowing full well that the woman must be powerful, Arashe did not hesitate, and fired a well-aimed arrow towards the charging mother bear. But, the arrows was thrown aside like a strong wind had blown it, and it was even cut in half, on top of that! With a grumble, Arashe began to strafe around the woman in a clockwise fashion, firing an arrow at her as her approach continued.
Soon, his movements brought a tall stone pillar between the two, within covering distance for Arashe, but likely within plotting distance for Teifi.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2009 9:39 pm
How fortunate that his first arrows had been aimed directly at her sash! With a curl and a mighty snap, a blade shot out from the vacuum that the whiplash created- a nearly invisible blade of wind that arced just enough to catch the first arrowhead directly in its flight path. The might of two Legendary weapons- her Briseschal versus his Ichival's divine arrow- collided with a force that surprised her, though the arrow did fall, split in half by the wind. Her strike did not pass through the arrow, however. As the wind collided with the arrow, it succeed in stopping it like a wall before its own deadliness ceased, as well.
They were evenly matched, in terms of weaponry.
Stepping back and feeling her golden sandals just barely touch the ground, she returned his strafing steps with steps in a counterclockwise direction, keeping her face pointed towards him and her sash moving constantly to try to read the Sniper's movements. It had been so long since her last witnessing of a Sniper's bow that she didn't realize he needed so little time to aim his strikes- though she turned her body to the side, the divine arrow of the Ichival caught her skin, snagging the flesh on the upper part of her left arm as it flew past.
The gash that now bled would remind her not to underestimate his speed again.
Keeping an eye on him and matching him step for step, she waited just a moment before he had put a pillar between her and himself- a perfect opportunity!
Returning the sash to its more clothlike form, she stood on her toes and did a pirouette, letting the sash fly around her and begin the stirring of the wind that would be her ally.
"Hahahahaha! Feel the wind, Archer!"
Stopping so that her toes faced the pillar, she let the sash finish its flight around her body before snapping the sash back, watching a larger blade fly horizontally to slice through the stone.
The accompanying gust of wind that followed made it sway dangerously, the pillar threatening to fall on the man who hid behind it like a rat...
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Phith Leico rolled 1 10-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-10)
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 9:46 am
Rolling a Dice...
→Skill Activation: Deadeye← The Ranger's muscles began to tense, his entire body freezing up at the Fleetfoot's taunt. The gusts of wind shot past the pillar, the impacts against the pillar sending small clouds of dust into the air. But, as the wind began to pass him, it was little more than a breeze. And especially calm one, at that.
Arashe closed his eyes as the wind passed him. He didn't even register the wavering pillar teetering to and fro. The breeze was just what Arashe needed to calm his nerves. Now, he was in a zen state, at his peak. He let out a contented sigh, one that was muffled by the noise around him, and rocketed into a sprint to his left. The gem on the Ichival began to shimmer with magical energy, and began to channel some of its divine power into Arashe.
Time began to slow around him as his strides became ever faster. Arashe curved his run just enough so that he would be able to close some of the distance between Teifi and himself, but still be within a safe range of an arrow's firing. In the blink of an eye, the Ranger had grabbed an arrow, and fired it directly towards Teifi's stomach. The speed with which he'd moved would prove to his advantage, most likely, for the Fleetfoot would have less ease deflecting an arrow from a moving target.
Without waiting for a sign of the first arrow's impact, Arashe had grabbed another. This one, though, he threw high into the air. In a hybrid of the speed and strength granted by the Ichival's use and the natural blessing of fortune from his Crusader's Bloodline, Arashe leaped into the air. The swirling winds that moved around him during his ascent only further calmed his nerves, a strengthened reappearance of his earlier calm.
As soon as the Ranger was level with the tops of the pillars, Arashe snatched the arrow from in front of him. He briefly scanned the battlefield, watching his shadow stretch down towards Teifi's position. If he managed to jump in front of the sun's rays, even better for him! Quickly, Arashe shot this second arrow, this time aiming for somewhere along Teifi's upper torso, something along the lines of anywhere from the ribs to the neck. He was high up in the air and far away, so even with his good eyes, he wasn't aiming for a particular point on her body.
The moment the arrow was fired, Arashe's descent began. Feeling the environment's embrace, the warm rays of the sun, and the calm currents of the wind soothed Arashe's mind in the face of the adrenaline rush of a fall. He impacted against the ground, the force of his boots hitting the sandy floor and making a small dust cloud around his legs. The Ranger easily stuck the dismount, and simply turned to face Teifi as he primed himself for another shot. One hand rested on the bow, another at his side, slightly bent to allow quick access to another arrow.
The Ranger had, in his mind, been given more than enough reason to return the Fleetfoot's witty banter. So, of course, he did just that.
"Heh, the wind felt marvelous, Miss... I never did catch your name!" Arashe smiled, and brushed a few stray hairs from his face. "I am Arashe Nyilas, and, if you cannot tell, I'm quite the capable archer."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
KuraiKitty rolled 1 20-sided dice:
10
Total: 10 (1-20)
|
Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 4:18 pm
→ Skill Failed. ←
Teifi had learned enough from the first strike to know that he could fire his arrows alarmingly quickly- when he moved from behind the pillar, she had already begun to move aside, even when he seemed to move almost as if he was a blur. She wouldn't have had time to prepare an attack, even if she'd wanted to- all she could do now was to just keep away from those deadly arrows, warned only by the glowing bow that a shot would be coming her way.
Her feet didn't apparently carry her fast enough to keep her body from harm- though she tried to turn her body away from the first arrow, the dancer let out a harsh scream as a bolt of pain seared through her belly. Though perhaps she would've been thankful to the gods that the arrow hadn't actually impaled her, the arrowhead tore open a great deal of skin, with nearly half of the arrowhead tearing across her belly as it flew past. Unable to stop herself, Teifi instinctively stopped where she was, her hands flying to her wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Nothing major was hit, perhaps, but the pain said nothing of the sort.
How the man leaped into the air! Rather like he'd been struck in the rear like a pin, Arashe's gold mane gleamed in the sunlight as he launched the arrow into the sky, following after it and taking aim at her body. Teifi wasn't aware where the deadly projectile would fall- his shining bow and hair only made it harder for her to see, what with the sun shining directly into her eyes. Around his head, a corona of light seemed tdo mask him from view, save the dark shadow that he exuded.
Thunk!
"Augh!" Though she'd seen the glint of the arrow, his hand was too sure- not once did the arrow waver in its lightning quick path towards her body. Though the Fleetfoot tried again to turn her body, this move was far less effective than she had done previously; there was no quelling the pain in her voice as the arrow pierced the inside of her left shoulder, throwing her arm back and wrenching painfully into her shoulder blade.
She wasted no time waiting for him to land, instead running to the nearest pillar and hiding behind it, fighting to hear through the beating pulse in her ears and the overpowering sensation of pain in her pierced bone and torn muscle. For a moment, she tried leaning back against the stone pillar- a foolhardy move, she soon discovered, nearly screaming when the arrowhead that had burrowed into her body had stopped, just beneath her skin. Any pressure, and the arrowhead might very well push out from her skin.
Already, she felt the tip of the Ichival's blessed arrow sawing at her skin from the inside out.
"Teifi, if it pleases you. Teifi the Fleetfoot. Do you feel proud of yourself, betraying your country's heritage?"
Hopefully he would move- she would hear him, if that was the case, and prepare to move accordingly. She certainly couldn't see him...
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 16, 2009 3:12 pm
Arashe let out a disgusted scoff, appalled at the Fleetfoot's rude remark. For a lady so elegant, such rude, baseless words were like a spit in his face! Granted, a woman who hid like a coward behind a pillar can't be all that noble, eh?
"...Teifi the Fleetfoot? I don't think I've ever heard of..." Arashe mumbled to himself. The name was vaguely familiar, it was, but he was not able to pin it down anywhere! Absolutely frustrating! But then, he began to think back. The woman was behind a pillar, so she couldn't very well be on the offensive. And on top of that, she was clearly wounded. He'd bought himself some time to think, at least. But, the moments he spent jogging his memory served him in no way at all.
Arashe smirked at the pillar he saw the Fleetfoot scamper behind. And this was a large arena. Large arena with a sky, at that. And pain can bring about fear, yes indeed. Arashe calmly prepared another arrow, setting it carefully with the bow, set to fire at a moment's notice. Victory seemed rather imminent, so why not have some fun with it?
"Betraying my country, you say?!?" Arashe was grinning like the Cheshire Cat on illegal substances as he practiced his BOOMING NOBLEMAN'S VOICE OF AUTHORITY, a sound aimed towards his left. To his right: "I do not even know who you are, Fleetfoot! How do you know my country?" Arashe's giggly shivers almost caused him to drop his arrow. But, he composed himself that marginal bit he needed to keep the arrow ready as he shouted towards the heavens. "I am the Ace of Arrows! The Sovereign of Snipers! The Epitome of Elegance! I've the power of a god emanating from the core of my very being, madame!" If Teifi turned to face her opponent, she would see him almost doubled over with stifled laughter. Sure, he regretted shouting such terrible things to the deities that so readily could strike him down, but he was having fun! Nothing wrong with having fun, if what you say is in jest, right? ...right?
Well, regardless. Had Arashe known Teifi prior, he might be able to guess at how the rage of a god could shake the Dancer. But he didn't. The poor b*****d. He could be traumatizing the poor woman without knowing it! But "he had fun, so it's all that matters." ...What an a*****e character.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 7:05 pm
"What Learanian doesn't know about their Heroes? Who doesn't know the tale of those who slew the priests of the dark god himself?" Teifi spoke loudly, hiding the pain in her voice to the best of her ability as she kept trying to pinpoint the Sniper's location. He was smart, she would give him that- she kept whirling her head around when his voice seemed to come from different places, and fought to find a point of origin. His voice carried so well in this open space, it was nearly impossible to pinpoint his location unless he talked for an hour or so.
She scoffed at the thought, hissing when the arrow in her shoulder shifted again. Knowing it was a stupid move but also knowing that it wouldn't do her any good like this, Teifi's hands reached up as Arashe continued to spout out words like some unstoppable fountain. Wrapping her fingers around the shaft of the arrow, she readied herself to act when she heard the word 'god' drop from his lips. Her hands and heart alike froze, and she dared not move as he laughed to himself. Though she did not hear his stifled laughs and though she was spared the sight of his smiling face, she could visualize them well enough in her mind.
Blessed by the gods, was he? The same blasphemous, lying beings that had filled her heart and soul with false hope, despair, a cold sleep... and, finally, death? Were they so kind to give this boy his arrogance, foolhardy nature, and an enchanted weapon, when all she had was an empty husk where promises not fulfilled remained and festered with her frustrations?
She turned quickly then, shoving her back as hard as she could against the pillar to make her shoulder nearly explode with pain- she found that she couldn't grip the arrow with her left hand, anymore, but she could still grip the shaft fast with her right. Letting out a scream of agony, she braced the arrow's head against the pillar and jerked sharply down on the arrow's fletching.
She underestimated the strength of the Ichival's arrows- the arrow only jerked upward in her body, making her vision erupt in clouds of red as the sharp arrowhead scraped the inside of her shoulder blade, tearing through muscle as it went. There was no way to just snap the arrow in two- she would have to not only live with the pain of her error, but also with the knowledge that she now had a very long vulnerability sticking out of her body.
"The gods... blasphemous heathens, all of them. Makes you no better, does it, boy?" Her voice catching from the pain, Teifi swallowed it to the best of her ability, turning around and stepping out from behind her shelter just enough for her eyes to see his body.
Realizing that his laughter would compromise his aim, she took her sash in her right arm and snapped it roughly, sending a curl of wind magic spiraling towards the arrogant Sniper.
"Set down your Divine weapon, if the gods favor you so highly!"
Arashe is indeed a jackass, and has unnerved Teifi quite a bit. Perhaps now would be a good time to put the woman out of her misery so we can stop this foolish charade and get on with the tournament... but wait, she doesn't want to die. Again.
What a shame.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 7:55 pm
"Learanian? Hah!" Arashe scoffed to himself, shaking his head. His composure had managed to return, albeit shakily. For a hero of some sort, she was surely irritating...
And her scream wasn't helping her case, not at all. One could expect that if they had an arrow lodged in them, that the injured one could just as easily pull the blasted thing out. Sure, it would hurt, a lot, but it would be better than doing whatever she had done to herself to make that scream, to say the least.
Ouch, insulting the gods. Not the nicest thing to do, for a hero. But, Arashe hardly cared. Just because he used the power of a god doesn't mean that he was one himself. And honestly, he didn't particularly care for the gods. They bred zealots, and zealots breed cults, and cults make a recurrence of the Holy War his father had fought in. And those are hardly fun, he heard.
When the blade of wind shot towards the Sniper, he simply let out a small laugh. He firmly gripped the Ichival, and once more used the magic imbued in it to increase his abilities, this time only dodging the attack. Had he not done that, though, then the attack most likely would have hit, And with Arashe going on a flawless victory, he didn't particularly desire to ruin it by being reckless.
But, Teifi's demand to change up his attacks? Oh, that was too fun to not work with! Only nodding towards the Dancer, Arashe put away the Ichival. On the other hand, he pulled out something that was... most likely worse. A Killer Bow. He'd heard from his father that it was something that his grandmother, Briggid, had gotten from one of her allies. As far as Arashe was concerned, it was his, and that was all that mattered.
"Teifi, madam." Arashe said, slowly beginning to strafe around the woman. He was going... let's say counterclockwise around the Dancer, so that, if she wanted to hide back behind the pillar where she was, he could still take advantage of it. "I'm not from Learania." The Sniper let out a small laugh, and brushed a few stray hairs from his eyes. "See, in my home, Jugdral, we fought a Dark God, too!" Arashe let out a gleeful laugh, as if they were about to become friendsies or something.
"See, my grandfather was killed at a massacre, and my grandmother ended up with amnesia from said massacre." Arashe mentally sighed, wishing she knew about the Battle of Barhara. Quite the brutal battle, it was. Deaths all over the place, kings and lords slain like cattle. "But then, my father and mother, they banded together with many others, the sons and daughters of those that died..." Arashe twirled the arrow that he'd had in his hand earlier, like it was a conductor's baton or something.
"And then, they went and killed a dark god of their own! But this dark god, he was the Emperor of the entire continent." Maybe the concept of a dark god that was also some sort of man (he never did figure out that entire story) would somehow work in his favor.
Arashe simply shook his head, as if he couldn't believe the Fleetfoot's behavior, and simply decided that he'd had enough fun for today. Meeting an ancient hero, and then defeating her like she was some child? That would be a story for the ages...
With a sharp exhale, Arashe spun the arrow in his hand, before rapidly setting it in the bow and firing it. Between himself, his father, his grandmother, and the original owner, this bow must have had countless kills. One more would hardly hurt it, obviously. The arrow flew quickly, and with a small whistle, towards Teifi's stomach. Arashe couldn't very well give victorious banter if she died the moment the arrow hit, now could he?
Arashe is a jackass, but he's a glorious jackass, I think. And I decided to agree and put her out of her misery.
Killer Bow kills things dead, after all, even a Hero.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|