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Midus Sonners Vice Captain
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 Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2008 12:54 pm
Winter Arena Description: As one walks in, they will see that the arena is now a lot smaller than the previous one, seeming to be starting some type of pattern. Now, the fighting area is only 100 yards in diameter, the ground covered in two inches of snow over soiled ground underneath, and the temperatures being a cold 20 degrees Fahrenheit, despite the ceiling being open with the sun shining down. However, there is no sign of a designated platform, meaning the entire area is pretty much game. 25 yards from the stands each are 10 feet blocks of ice, designated at each corner of the arena, blocky with no definite shape, yet can be stood upon with the right footing. The blocks are so thick, however, that breaking them is not something of ease, or melting them. In the middle, with a diameter of 30 yards is a sitting pool of water iced over with a nice firm sheet of ice, the water underneath being 10 feet deep. However, if it takes too much stress, the ice can easily break. Ten Count Boundary: The ten count starts as soon as someone goes over the twenty foot wall into the stands, or into the pool of water. If a person is already in a counted area and the other fighter enters in, the count is reset. If a person is being forced to stay in a counted area against their own will, for example, by being binded by an indirect attack (such as vines, tendrils, etc.), then the count stops. However, the count continues if a person is using their own body to keep the other fighter down AND have no part of their body inside the fighting zone (as well as being at least five yards away from the fighting zone). In this case, the count is being counted against both members.
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Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2008 8:53 pm
Korag had lost his last round, and he had nothing to show for it except scar upon scar, left by the blistering flames that Omi Barsait had bathed him in. Would he forget that fight because he lost? Of course not, Korag was a beast of burden, of pride, though most of the latter had been stripped of him with the judge's decision that led to him being in this, the loser's bracket. It didn't matter. Redemption was not far away; all he had to do was beat his opponent to a bloody pulp, receive the win, and move on to the next round in the loser's bracket. It wasn't first, that was true, but if he got third.. he made up for his loss; a close loss in the eyes of both he and Omi. Though Omi never said such a thing verbally, Korag knew it in his eyes, those eyes that showed amusement at the flames shooting forth from his fingers.
The beast had redressed himself, unwrapped his cloth from his weapon, and gotten looked at by the people at the infirmary. The only thing that they could do for his burns was.. nothing. They looked at him, told him that the damage was done, and that he'd live with his entire right side burned badly for the rest of his life. It was tough for him to swallow, but he got it. He just had to prove that he was better than the rest of the fighters that were in this 'Loser's fight' and win the prize money. Win back his pride. And now.. it came down to.. Snow. Dressed in only his cloth as if it were a monk robe of somesort, wrapped around his bottom half only, he entered the arena of snow and ice.
His thick skin layered with the fat and muscle that clung to his body helped keep the cold out, push it back. He'd survive, probably a lot better than anyone else who was in this tournament; then again, he'd seen what people could do. His first fight he'd seen the shadow snakes materialize from thin air, the wall of shadow, and even the shadow arm that had failed to throw him across the arena, even after it's master had willed it to. His second fight he'd been faced with a man who won by tricking Korag. Snakes were something he was accustomed to, but snakes that billowed colorless flames of much higher heat than that of normal flames.. The poor ogre had been terrorized since the first moment he arrived.
No more was he going to sit around. No more were people going to throw him around like he was a rag doll. NO MORE was he going to be afraid of magic. The beast that Korag had came in as, and the beast that Korag was becoming as this tournament went along were basically the same, but with one minor difference. The Korag that had entered would not go near magic, not even if his life was threatened. He'd stuck to that policy against Omi, and it got him no where. It got him here, rather. Somewhere that he'd hoped he wouldn't be. It did not matter. There was going to be a change.
Korag normally stood to about eight feet tall, but that was because he hunched over, his massive arms filled with muscle hung down to the ground, his knuckles scraping the ground. He'd decided to try something slightly different this time. Now, Korag was standing tall, standing proud, with his right hand grasped around the large rod with the ball attached. He now stood to 11'3" tall, and now weapon was drawn; something else very strange for the ogre. Never, did he pull his weapon out until threatened. He'd already decided, he was going to bring the fight to his opponent, no matter what they did. If they threw magic around as if it were naught but a toy, so be it; he'd grin and bare through the magic, and then smash his opponent to death. It was just how it was going to have to be.
Korag stepped about mid-way into the icy arena, but not in the middle of the iced over water. He was standing off to the side of it, concious of what it could possibly do; yet.. He mulled over a possible situation which would help to give him victory. A smile lit up his beastly jaw as he raised both arms; his right arm holding his weapon, and let out a beastly roar. The crowd went wild; a signal to Korag that fun was about to begin.
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