Welcome to Gaia! ::

Chances were most people were going to be watching this one at home; most normal, God-fearing people at least. Watching a mass slaughter of contestants wasn't something to encourage showing up in person. Much less when it was them in specific, and not just by some accident.

This said, the hairy cannibal everyone was initially frightened of looked much less terrifying to the viewers and crowd members upon the beggining of this match.

The great blade, wrapped in bandages again, was laid out flat on the ground, claws in place of a pommel twitching like a dog's legs going in it's sleep. The massive man eater lay in a pile of sprawled cloaks, sitting in and soaking up the sun's warmth through the layers of loose dark fabric, and sitting stilll, face buried in the crook of an arm. Face down, he lay curled almost like a cat atop his blade. A very funny looking cat, the bearded man with silver streaked hair, especially considering that he was pretty damn big. Not big for a person big. Big like an unremarkable bear big. Taller than most NBA players and half as wide big. Pretty damn big.

Alchert continued to nap pleasantly atop his blade.

He was a light sleeper, but some disturbances are mild enough that you can just ignore them and try to go back to sleep despite. He was intelligent, just extremely simple. He'd gorged himself recently, and didn't need the easy meals again quite yet. His presence and inactivity was more or less following through on the pattern formed by two former opponents who had lost without his help. He just needed to stick around and they'd tell him to go away, and next time he'd come back and take snacks again.

The massive man oppened one eye, lifting his head out of the crook of his arm to regard the other person with a disinterested, mildly irked gaze. Then uttered a full string of gutteral nonsense syllables.

Following, he leaned his weight backward, sitting himself in a upright position, kneeling atop the earth just beside the great weapon. Slowly, the other eye flickered open. And he yawned, a gaping, ostenatious sort of noisy thing which he completely lacked the manners to conceal with a hand.

Then blinked, and quirked his head to the side, favoring this thing across from him with a very feline sort of examination, despite apathy, true or in guise.

Alchert's large, bearded face scrunched up all at once. Then the eyes shut, and the massive man yawned, leaning forward until his palms hit the ground, and stretched in one great, slow twists. The heavy coat on him, underneath the cloak, parted down the stomach but shadowed by other layers above and below, ruffled slightly, as if wind were blowing through it. What was really happening, was thousands upon thousands of tiny little spores being blown out into the air gradually.



Alchert started to settle to go to sleep, pawing at the ground like a cat, while the calculating animalistic mind assumed this action would naturally either put the bother to sleep or drive it away.

The large man caught a lot more of this burst of air than most would have, but he was a lot heavier too. He slid backward, just a little, and blinked uncertainly.

But, not particularly interested in whatever was going on beyond that it was keeping him from napping peacefully, Alchert hopped to his feet, hefting the large, bandage wrapped sword over his back, where it seemed to hang on it's own once he took the huge hand away, and marched over toward this creature disturbing him, tree-trunk arms swinging in slow arcs with the stride.

The large man didn't make a move to attack.

In his ready stance, the annoying creature disturbing his nap could wait all day. But Alchert wasn't going to attack just yet.

What he did do, was march right up to, into, and continuing against the little man, if so allowed, simply pushing him backward, shoving him along through the ring to the other side, out it with a good final push, and then walked back out into the sun to nap.

Not that he'd probably let Alchert do this, but that's about what he had in mind.

Most people in such a place would be, knowing Gaia, master swordsman with superhuman attributes besides masters of one or more manners of magic, and in possession of legendary artifacts no one had ever heard of.

Alchert kept moving forward as the arm moved, and as the ball formed and flew, he only leaned, charging straight against the ball. In the contact, the explosion of the ball of air went off, blowing masses of sand from the flooring into the air, making a blind-screen over the two contestants, obscuring veiw of either from each and the crowd.

The massive man was not a terribly skilled swordsman. He was not familiar with any real magic to speak of. He had no possessions of great supernatural power.

Maybe the aeromancer would have moved. Maybe he was still standing in place. Should he be unfortunate enough to have taken the latter, a massive shape would come barelling into him down on all fours, bullrushing him all the way out of the sandscreen with ease.

Alchert was simply monsterous, and that was all.