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 Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 7:17 am
The Coliseum  The coliseum is an oval (ellipse) with the outer measurements as follows: Length: 189 meters (615 ft) Width: 156 meters (510 ft) Height: 48 meters (157 ft). The inner measurements (arena area) Length: 88 meters (287 ft) Width: 56 meters (180 ft) Height: 4.6 meters (15 ft). Modeled akin to the coliseum in Rome, Italy. The interior of the arena is a simple pit of packed dirt, the thousands of seats available for many to view the happenings within. The arena itself is protected on the walls closing it in with runes, keeping the audience from potential danger of stray attacks and a wide range of damage. These runes also keep the foundation of the arena from being all but obliterated.
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 3:19 pm
"It was hardly a fight..." he growled, as the skin knit itself on his leg.
"It matters not, good knight." the emaciated man said solemnly, his eyes flicking down occasionally to watch the unnatural healing at work. He seemed unphased by it, "You are the victor, he the vanquished."
"He was not vanquished."
"And yet, he lost. He will have the chance to give a better fight in the redemption round. It seems the host is allowing some of the nobler warriors a chance to rise again. Worry not for him, but for yourself."
The man reached into the breast of his robe and removed a parchment paper. He didn't bother to unfurl it, instead setting it down on the sandy table on the side of the room.
"Your objective has changed. There has been a terrible robbery in the Temple. A paladin has turned rogue and has taken a vast sum from the treasury in his flight."
"Who?"
"Senjuk the Red" the thin man sung sadly, "His corruption was as expensive as it was unexpected. What he took, you must win back. The High Priest does not expect we shall ever see the gold again. You must conquer this tournament and return to the Temple with the winnings. You must make this your priority."
"But, the-"
"The Temple can only afford to hunt evil if it can pay its informants throughout the worlds, you know this. And what of the grain shipments to the thousand poor wards across the planes? What of the armorers, the farmers, the cooks and breadmakers and mercenary companies and beautification projects? Will they pay for themselves? Even with your winnings, we will be hard pressed to afford them all for months. Your quarry can wait."
Szar swallowed his objections. The High Priest had not sent a mere running boy to pass on his orders, but Ashari Snakesword, a religious diplomat of great renown. A former assassin, Ashari had an undeniable aura of severity which he brought to bear in every conversation. It was impossible not to remember that behind his low, sad voice was a man who had killed hundreds before accepting the light and taking a vow of pacifism. Over the years, he had come to strike as true with his voice as he once had with a blade.
"As you say."
"Indeed. Mind you, if you do find yourself facing off against the thing in the coliseum, it would be your duty to annihilate him. Barring that, you are to remain whole and safe and ready to fight for each round. No distractions."
Szar rubbed at the reddish skin as his leg finally finished closing its wound. He stood up and bounced twice on it. It felt good enough.
"Sure, win the tourney. I can do that." he said, not altogether as confidently as he'd meant to. If his last fight had shown him anything, it was that he had to heighten his expectations if he was to come out of this place alive. He'd have to play smarter, fight harder.
"The High Priest and I have no doubt that you shall. I will be spectating for the remainder of the competition, and I will of course be offering you any information that might help you as you go."
That would be a boon. Snakesword was a clever, experienced man. His wisdom would be invaluable in the rounds to come.
"What do you know of my next opponent?" he asked. The diplomat had the courtesy to at least seem apologetic.
"Why, nothing at all. Oh, except that you must go fight him now. The staff at this event is very haphazard, isn't it? Run along."
"Now?!"
_____________________
The coliseum remained unchanged, albeit with a few red stains in the sand where the blood had run too deep to remove. Szar waited once again, first to his fight, equipped in his field plate and with his full battle array- his longsword in his right hand, his shield in his left, and his greatsword on his back.
"Let's get this finished early." he said, and slammed the fist of his shield hand to his chest. Just like that, his armor's weight vanished, allowing him the same freedom of movement he'd used in his last fight.
He rolled his other wrist, and the sword in it. He was ready enough. 
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
Foe
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 8:41 pm
"GREAT ANOTHER ******** SWORDSMAN! "
No subtly was implied in his obscene language, blaring out his dislike after the type of battle he recently went through. Fortuitously, the sole wound inflicted onto him no longer became a hindrance after some time was taken to heal, indulge in more illegal activities, and simply wait. This period of time alloted his thoughts on how to proceed after the lackluster performance, promising the crowd a true bloodbath only to be the only combatant to spill some onto the sand. Envy spouted into his conscious on the bloodier fights he saw on the television from his room, yearning to bring the pain of that caliber.
Whistling in astonishment on the equipment of his opponent, amused by his little getup. Either he was overcompensating for something or this warrior felt obliged to cover his bases for multiple scenarios. Distinguishing in appearance he had some sharp dreadlocks, clothing that was patterned to some gothic karate fighter notable with bandaged limbs; particularly those outlandish arms that seem inhuman in length. Almost abruptly, the sadist turned his head sideways with his insidious eyes sizing him up.
" Win or lose I will be painting this arena with blood! "
Questioning his mental state was futile, living for the pleasure that fueled this beast in human form whether it was him or another that got hurt in the process. These gambles were worth the gratification he received from such deadly encounters on a daily basis. The evidence was there based on the scars decorating his flesh all over like badges of honor. Judging from what he has seen this fellow was a paladin, somewhat problematic with his morals, yet an interesting adversary nonetheless.
Contradicting his thoughts with a resourceful fighting stance, loading that left arm to hang about near the waist while the right arm was closely drawn to the chest area. Pivoting his front foot and demonstrating some form of discipline, Darius Kaiq was all but ready for an exchange. Pumped full of that steroid with barbaric intentions, he motioned the right hand slightly to goad him as he started to head his way in a pace that wouldn't get him caught from an agile fighter like his previous foe.
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 10:19 pm
Szar slammed down his visor. The metal made a jarring clap over his face as he lifted his weapons to bear.
"First thing's first..." he whispered, and widened his eyes. In his gloves, his fingers curled in divine gesture. Suddenly, light was blasting forth from him, a golden glow of sunlight which would flood well past his opponent, bathing the crowd behind him in its radiance.
And oh, how Darius did glow. Red, red like a devil's c**k. Red like the fires of hell. Red like guilt. Red like blood.
"You, friend, are unfathomably <********>." he whispered.
Step, step, step. His pace quickened with each. His muscles tightened underneath his armor. His frown set deep into his muscles. His fists clenched. Rage boiled low in his heart, and he walked. He didn't even know this man, but already he hated him. The gods were good, that a man like him could have the power to hate so freely. It was a Paladin's one real blessing. In exchange for a lifetime of service and self-sacrifice, in payment for the hurts and wretched emotional scars the life of a holy knight inflicted, he could funnel his whole fury into each and every sorry fool who ever glowed the wrong color.
And by the sun, it felt good.
His hands conjured more gestures, enchanting his person with special wards which fended off evil. Where shadows dwelled in the joints of his armor, light began to grow. Where he seemed weakest, he grew a bit tougher. The small favor of the gods would do a small bit of defensive work on his body, but what was most important would be its guard on his mind. This savage, stupid looking scum didn't seem like much of a sorcerer...but it never hurt to be ready. Now, his mind was unbreakable. And as it became so, the pair of men closed in on each other.
Let the fight begin.
Szar lunged his sword forward. There was no arc, just a stab. It was quick and deadly, thrust with a whiplike motion and a snap back to ready-position so fast that his armored arm seemed more like a blur of reflected sunlight. No man could move so fast in armor, not even the best swordsman in a nation could thrust that true under full plate! Szar could.
The strike was aimed right for Darius's center. A good poke in the breadbasket would have the filth wheezing on the ground like a smoke-den's wench. If the man was willing to go down easily like a good peace of refuse, Szar might even make his death quick.
Even so, he wasn't expecting to make any executions yet, so his shield was up, ready to guard, ready to intercept, ready to take a hit.
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
-Protection From Evil: Minor defense boost vs. evil. Mental immunity from evil effects.
Foe
-Szar has cast Detect Evil, you have kindly alerted me that Darius is evil.
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 11:08 pm
Antagonizing his opponent became a profession, provoking these strangers either with his inherently barbarous personality, crude language, or just naturally having that type of appearance that drove people berserk. Whichever it was the Paladin exhibited it through small ques in his body language and the fact knowing from how he dressed that a holy man was not going to care for his existence with those divine radars saying good, evil, in the middle, etc.
'Who pissed in his water?'
It amused him that a pious individual could throw such words for him, reserving their darker impulses for the cretins they hunted down vigilantly like any psychotic zealot believing in someone who apparently granted power in exchange for their loyalty. Whatever precautions he bestowed onto himself it matter little for the goal ahead; wounding this holy ******** up. Being safe would need to be abandoned with the killing intent radiating from him, dropping into his free form style of hanging the arms lazily and knees bent quickly.
That straight forward lunge convinced him otherwise, charging him with no hint of being weighed down from his gear. Had the bruiser be in a situation where time management was too difficult, things would get hazardous fast. Instead a small adjustment would be needed, relying on dexterity. Umbra had some fixation on slicing him from the center, something that would warrant a little strategy should he be pitted with another weapon user.
Acting akin to muscle memory or just descent reflexes, Darius felt the blade graze portions of his chest in a hasty maneuver to avoid early impalement. Wild and utterly unpredictable, the crude combatant swayed backwards immensely like he inclined the body comparable to dancing limbo. Unique to every compound V user, each were granted something that made it work differently In this case he received freakish flexibility or hyper mobility for heightened combat-agility. Joints, muscles, tendons and physiology were modified in this circumstance; enabling a ludicrous dodge that skinned only the chest.
"MY TURRNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Livid and simply enthusiastic to meet someone straightforward to a fault like himself, shooting a swift right hook from the peculiar position from each he desired to strike from an angle he could not anticipate. Possessing unnatural arms which were augmented helped with his unorthodox fighting. The improved strength and speed would render this punch efficient in stunning or if lucky could get an early advantage should he get a direct hit at the sword wielding arm, perhaps the forearm to hand area. Unfortunately this quick decision gave him no time to really capitalize with his powers, hoping just to neutralize his major attack for now.
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Posted: Sat Mar 22, 2014 10:42 am
Right foot back, hips to the right, pivot, left arm steady...Crrrrack!
Metal strips groaned, woodchips scattered, and Szar felt a jolt run up his left forearm. Thick wood and strong armor protected him from the worst of the punch, but that didn't change the fact that this worthless worm hit hard. He'd never met a man with such a brutal punch. It was as though he had the head of a mace at the end of his wrists. Maybe Szar would make a trophy of one and hang it next to his wyvern's claws back in the beastlands.
Yet for all of the foe's power, his hit accomplished little more than denting a piece of wood and loosening one of the fastenings. It would take more than that to break Szar down.
He was puzzled, though. The way the man moved was...unnatural. It was as though he were made of rubber. Szar had expected to be the one who would move unexpectedly. As with his last foe, this man was full of surprises. He couldn't let his guard down. He'd let his shield shatter into a thousand pieces before he got out from behind it, and every hit his opponent landed on it would cost him dearly. Szar had to win these early exchanges.
To this end, he whipped his left arm out, sending the shield's flat directly toward his foe's face which, thanks to his pivot, would be to his left anyways. The blow might break a nose or leave a scrape, but it's real purpose was to shock the foe and block his vision. Getting within punching range of a shield was well and good, but it was asking to get bashed.
The follow-up was a deal more lethal. With the boss of the shield aimed toward Darius's face, there would be ample room beneath it for a cruel stab. The second try would hopefully be more accurate than the first, and the blow would be up close and personal- deep and painful. Only the gods knew if it would be lethal.
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
-Protection From Evil: Minor defense boost vs. evil. Mental immunity from evil effects.
Foe
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Posted: Sat Mar 22, 2014 11:41 am
Whom was on the receiving end for the most pain? Contemplating this at the moment of collision, his fist pressed against the forearm that was sheltered thanks to the armor engrossing his body. Privileged to possess his type of tolerances from implacable methods only safeguarded his hand from immediate wear and tear from striking an armored opponent, yet he could only push his violence so far.
Instability was something this foe exploited early on, not to mention closing enough distance would lessen the lethality of his elongated limbs. The shield bash would indeed nail him, but rather unexpectedly Szar would witness the sociopath falling to the ground. Truth be told he can be pushed over very easily while in that limbo like position. High threshold for pain and his abnormal durability would maintain no visible wounds, but it would leave a semi-numb feeling on the face. Another successful one would probably do worse to his facial ******** on his back like a prostitute, he was astonished just how quickly that little plan went to hell literally. A little disorientation was health and natural, something one grows accustomed to in brawls alone. Fortunately the stab attack was second, leaving the blade no where to go with a prone opponent. Navigating his surroundings like a drunkard would be amusing for those in attendance. Rolling to the side near Szar in a 360 rotation to flank or at least distance himself to regain his senses, the front leg went for a sly kick like a spinning keel kick yet with less momentum. It was his attempt at still being active, hoping to strike either of the leg to weaken the foundation which was the paladin. Unlike an average human this could still sting to an extent, but mostly it was a hit and run like maneuver.
The question was if he had some morals on attacking a downed opponent or whether or not this was a ploy to bait the warrior to the ground. He find out soon enough.
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Posted: Sat Mar 22, 2014 12:50 pm
There was a telltale emptiness in a missed thrust. No sword strike was easier to deliver than the thrust, yet when one hit the feeling was like a great, pained shudder of steel vibrating inside of flesh. Gods forbid you stabbed into a bone, the shock was like to sprain your wrist. Feeling none of this, Szar instantly worried. His shield had hit something, there was no doubt. But what? He was as blind to his opponent as the man would be to him. The question hung in the air, a question that had to be decided in a half of a second- attack or relent?
In his last fight, he would have attacked without hesitation. He had, in fact. It had nearly cost him the fight. This time he would be wiser. He would draw it out. He would go for the kill when the kill was sure, when he could see what he was killing. Even scum like this deserved that.
His legs kicked forward, propelling him backwards and away from his fallen foe. He frowned to see that he had knocked the man over, but at least he had avoided the leg sweep. Perhaps he'd made the right decision. He took the moment to raise his arms. " WHAT CHAMPION IS THIS? I SEE ONLY A BLUSHING MAIDEN ON HER WEDDING BED. SPREAD YOUR LEGS, WOMAN, AND I SHALL <********> YOU!" he cried. A collective cry rang from the stands, as the commonfolk rose their hands to mimic his own-
He turned away, arms still thrust to the sky, saluting the sun. The crowd was nearly jumping from the stands. This was a tournament of champions and now it was a tournament he had to win. They hadn't put this in a coliseum on a whim. This was bloodsport, and bloodsport demanded flair. "SUNLIGHT!" he cried, his voice booming from the walls and into the stands, mingling among the screams of the fickle onlookers as golden radiance blasted from his body. The light spread in a thirty foot radius around him, bathing everything inside of it with its golden glow. He looked to be at the very core of a sun himself, the spark that sent an explosion of translucent, holy fire in all directions. Alas, it was nothing so dangerous, only a spell centered on himself which could detect evil. In fact, it was the same one he had cast at the beginning of the fight. Yet with it activated now, he would be able to feel if the cretin charged him from behind. With it, he could sense evil, and inside the sphere he could sense its movement.
Otherwise, he would have been a fool to turn his back to an enemy and lift his arms so high.
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
-Protection From Evil: Minor defense boost vs. evil. Mental immunity from evil effects.
-Detect Evil: Centered on himself, allows him to detect the presence of evil, its location, and relative power.
Foe
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 12:39 pm
" Cute the Paladin loves to trash talk, a rarity for you choir boys! "
Despite being bewildered from crashing against the shield, Darius wasn't one to let peer pressure from the crowd or his opposition provoke him into anything foolhardy; he functioned perfectly reckless without motivation required. Disheartened from having the warrior go the safe route, he hoped Szar was gullible enough to enter his domain. Regaining his senses granted the crazed fighter a chance to arise from the sand, obliged to shatter his false sense of security as he was radiated in light. Showboating in the middle of combat annoyed him more than the insult, knowing something was off for turning his back, but wasn't going to not take the invitation.
On que he rushed for his opponent, eyes filled with malice as they equally could not stand each other presence. Frankly paladins were always troublesome thanks to his nature, hence his bias from the start. Reluctant to be the first to employ any of his abilities, the fact there was no way to discern his current light show made it a necessity to gauge him. Holding out both hands he readied himself, gradually moving closer. Unless this guy somehow had eyes lingering behind him, Darius had a slight edge or at least he perceived as much. Preferring to give him a taste of his own medicine for irony, the energy enveloped within himself would start.Kowasu Por Beben aka Break by Vibration A destructive fighting style which works through generating kinetic energy which afterwards allows the user to control vibrations around their limbs to generate shock. Becoming the medium to possess such emissions, infusing seismic energy into fierce shock waves. Versatile in execution, Darius is capable of many feats which makes his actions unpredictable.
[Cooldown:1 turn]
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 1:12 pm
Szar lowered his arms and turned his head. Through the visor of his helmet, he saw his opponent approaching. Through the power of his spell, he felt the man gathering something into himself, preparing something to unleash upon him. The time for showmanship was over. The fight was about to resume. He'd knocked his foe to the ground, but that meant little. It was a vanity maneuver, an illusion of dominance. The people loved it, but the people were bakers and laborers and men of business. They knew nothing. He courted them only to make them scream, in the hope that their screaming might make an impressionable judge favor him.
Yet the judges could be drinking the piss from his c**k and it would mean nothing if his opponent lopped off his head. Luckily for Szar, it was his feet that Darius seemed more concerned with.
His knee rose unbidden as the ground beneath him jut upwards. The energy had left Darius and once it did Szar was as blind to its trajectory as the next man. His ability to detect evil had its limits. It could tell him that his opponent was summoning energy into his wicked body, but it had little to say on where that power would end up. Luckily, one look down was enough to tell him what that surge of strength had been intended for.
"s**t."
The ground beneath him rent in two, blasting hot air up from below. The earth shook, sending sand billowing up in livid puffs. Szar had to move, quickly, or be swallowed up by the gaping mouth growing beneath him. It was thanks to days spent on ships, feeling the slamming shudder of colliding trimene vessels, feeling the swaying of warped wood under his feet as he crossed swords with pirates and dark armies in the beastlands which saved him from dropping directly on his a** then and there. When the ground began to rumble, a man's best option was to roll, and so he did.
He tumbled backward, his body feeling the press of the strong armor but none of its weight. He spun once, then again, then again. No doubt he looked a right fool as he did, yet the blasts of heat and shuddering earth were much stronger motivations than shame ever could be. When he righted himself, he was much farther away from Darius than he'd started. He wanted to close the distance, he wanted to feel his sword sink into his foe. To do this, he'd have to run.
He burst into a charge, albeit a roundabout one. To avoid the shifting sands he needed to arc around the area of effect, and so he curved to the right as he ran. He came at Darius with his shield up and his sword resting on his shoulder. His sword would raise as he closed in, though, a clear sign that his attack would be coming down at Darius's left shoulder. Just as he seemed about to attack, his right foot would plant down hard on the earth, his right arm would sent the blade screaming through the air, aimed exactly between the neck and the shoulder muscle. Yet the blow, dangerous as it seemed, would be a distraction. However it hit, there was something more...
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
-Protection From Evil: Minor defense boost vs. evil. Mental immunity from evil effects.
-Detect Evil: Centered on himself, allows him to detect the presence of evil, its location, and relative power.
Foe
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 1:46 pm
Surprises were at every corner, expecting more from his maneuver but all wasn't for naught. Perhaps he was experienced against such practitioners, was on enough boats, or lived in an area with frequent earthquakes. Whichever was the reason it was recognized and he rolled about to avoid the worse of the attack. Transferring more energy than necessary maybe fueled by his fury caused the internal damage of the ground from there, smiling ominously as his prey was charging right for him. How he enjoyed the bravado and mentality to advance forward, these were the battles he cherished most.
" BRING IT!!! "
Nothing was more inspiring than watching two strangers attempt to kill each other, especially two who were complete opposites.Though humiliating this warrior would need to be arrange for later, based on that practical yet efficient fighting stance it would become a case of going through that armor and shield before a true assault could come into fruition.
Anticipating his attack would not be easy, knowing one blunder could turn the tide of battle when your foe was using an instrument of death. Brawls were invigorating and less risk presented itself, Darius could not afford not be vigilant throughout this fight. The trajectory of the blade hinted at the shoulder, sensing enough killing intent to perceive the man would go for something more deadly. Launching that lanky arm horizontally near the center, a clank was heard which was unusual.
Behind the bandages however was something he hid intentionally. All that can be discerned was it wasn't made of flesh at least, protecting him momentarily as they entered a stalemate. Pushing forward with what leverage he had, Darius pressed on with that steroid pumping through his veins to hopefully out muscle and thrash into the ground. Whenever they were close face to face, he would perform something only a pragmatic b*****d would inflict.
Unnaturally sharp teeth through an augmentation had its usages, chopping into his upper lips to spill blood out profusely. Without hesitation he spat towards the visor, his dirty endeavor to blindside Szar to aid to his current actions. Maybe it get in his eyes or just witnessing him self-inflicting himself would distract. Whichever he wasn't allowing him to escape easily, with the options of pressing onward himself, evade, or get prone.
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 2:50 pm
Szar's left leg pushed off of the ground and rose as his sword bounced against Darius's tough defense. He spun clockwise, the blade slipped past the arm, continuing uselessly down and to the left. Szar had no mind to clash here. The strike was hard, but he had intended to give it up as soon as it connected in preparation for a follow-up kick.
But not just any kick...
A knight's kick.
Years of squeezing horses between his legs, years of standing firm under the rush of oncoming barbarian hordes, a lifetime of slogging in heavy armor, of fighting on ship, on land, in trees, on slick rooftops and blood soaked battlefields made a knight's legs bulging masses of corded muscle, strong and sturdy and ready. Rare was the opportunity to make them kick, yet when they did, it was with the weight of a lifetime behind them.
And this kick was headed directly for Darius's stomach. It was a spinning kick, coiled with all the momentum he could bring after his sword attack. The kick was straight and, as usual, just too fast for a man wearing all that armor. It was time too see exactly how much of this cretin was made of the true steel.
Distantly, Szar felt something wet hit his face. His left eye closed, but in the whirl of attacking he had no time to notice it. It was only after that he realized what had been done.
His foot slammed down on the ground after the kick, planting him back in his solid stance. Assuming Darius hadn't be thrown back after the attack, Szar would continue his barrage. His shield in front of him again he would follow the kick with another fast thrust. This, like the previous attack, was aimd right for the evil fighter's core. Those steely arms could block and block and block again, but so long as the foe was defending, he was not attacking. So long as he was not attacking, he was Szar's.
It was only in an afterthought that he couldn't actually see out of his left eye anymore...
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
-Protection From Evil: Minor defense boost vs. evil. Mental immunity from evil effects.
-Detect Evil: Centered on himself, allows him to detect the presence of evil, its location, and relative power.
Foe
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 3:39 pm
'FINALLY'
Deliberating severing the distance between them was something Darius planned, a concept plenty of his opponents took for granted for his gruff exterior and crude mouth. A savage by design one could see the glee within the confines of his demented eyes, overwrought for the type of battle he was seeking out from the first round in. Discretion would be made apparent soon enough, enjoying it to the extent that people could cut the tension with a knife for how aggressive both combatants were. He assert his will like a sex predator on a slutty dressed teenager, but without ******** him like one of his probably did in his childhood.
Holding his right arm back in the case of further plots from the paladin, it appeared things were appropriate for this situation. Practically a masochist for the amount of punishment he recklessly put this body through in a daily basis, it became a question on just how sane was Darius Kaiq. Motioning a quick elbow strike that barely had the leverage, reach, or other factors for a powerful strike, it would at least parry against the spinning kick. Everyone was going to get a wonderful treat, already transferring a strong surge of seismic energy into that defense.
At the price of some stinging and a bulbous bruise to develop, any immediate strikes would probably be frozen in their track. A monstrous burst of energy would be emitted that commanded great strength and agility. Both sides would suffer, a peculiar dual exchange of some sort. Offense and defense were one in this fighting style, making it quite clear as a basically point-blank collision was going to do no favors for the paladin. The vibrations would really cause discomfort if the leg was armored, though at least he felt the technique would hinder his balance and destroy his immediate opportunity to use the sword. Less distance from the epicenter of the shock wave meant more danger to Szar, potentially able to fracture or break the leg if he was fortunate.
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 4:20 pm
Szar just...kept spinning. He knew the kick should have landed, and yet his masculine leg felt none of the satisfying jarring feeling it ought to have.
Air, he realized. He was hitting air.
His right arm spun forward. He had to try to recover from this, else he'd be spinning like a top and end with his back to his foe. He had to plant his foot down. He had to regain his balance. He had to make time to do that. He had to attack
Yet his body careened, he stumbled. The elbow block had him shaking from its harsh vibrations. He swung out wildly with his sword, desperate to hit something, anything. He would fail, and fall over his own foot. In a tangled mess of limbs and steel he fell to the ground. His shield hit the dirt, his back bounced against the ground. He tried to open his eye, ignoring the dripping blood congealing on its lashes.
"Son of a-" he growled. His shield swung in front of him, and his sword hand hit the ground. He tried to guard and rise at the same time, but it was a bad position, no matter what he did. He could roll, he could curl up...but he would be hit one way or the other. Better to rise and take it then lay on the ground and suffer like a fool.
Equip Shift
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Buffs Active
-Effortless Armor: Moves as though not wearing armor.
-Protection From Evil: Minor defense boost vs. evil. Mental immunity from evil effects.
-Detect Evil: Centered on himself, allows him to detect the presence of evil, its location, and relative power.
Foe
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Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2014 2:27 pm
Never dabbling in an optimistic mindset which he thought of callow, the hedonist saw himself wrapped in its embrace temporarily for his little defense was following through. A horrific smile was exposed, combined with the bestial like gaze spelled only imminent danger for his adversary. Raised for warfare with little compassion, this was where he thrived best; an arena with the roar of the crowd as they demand tribute in bloodshed. His right suffered for the parry, feeling the blood rushing through as he gradually rose it to guard his chin. The left went back to its original position before they fought, resting near the waist with fist clenched.
"WHO THE BLUSHING MAIDEN ON HER WEDDING BED NOW, BITCHHHH!!!!!!! "
Prone and returning insult to his opponent as people mimicked him, Darius would relish in this opportunity to become the aggressor. Stepping his lead foot firmly to the ground, the offense would commence. Cerebral in execution his beating would be postponed, a different goal he had in mind. The moment he tried to guard would be his attempt, flicking his left arm in a jerking motion from the lowered guard. The primary reason for the low position of the left arm was it allowed him to execute jabs faster. Granted the ability to strike from various angles with impressive speed made for a formidable weapon.
Unrelenting the first blow was imbued with his seismic energy, mimicking his previous action as he went to hit the shield. He hoped the sledgehammer like power with the augmented strength and agility as well as the vibrations to help shatter the shield or at least cause stress to the arm holding it. Snapping the wrist at its climax to snap back to the body. This left for little risk, throwing a few more metallic lefts while Szar went to rise again. Each blow like the last one, yet did not focused a huge amount of energy to slowly pummel the stability of his precious shield. Should the rest miss mattered little, if anything it encouraged him to get out of this quicker.
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