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Post by Sol on May 28, 2014 21:23:55 GMT
-- Judge: Solar -- Setting can be requested from a judge if both parties want a neutral battle ground. -- Judges can impart random field effects. -- First post goes to Ziren(Alchemist) -- (mortal kombat dude voice) Round 1: FIGHT! |
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Post by Alchemist on Jun 6, 2014 23:48:20 GMT
 A long, violent breeze rippled through the area but everything in its' vicinity remained still. The sky above the curious Alchemist was calm with soft pinks and smooth yellows, but she felt one hell of a storm approaching. There was a mixture of irritation and another emotion Ziren Rhizae had surmised as defeat boiling in her chest, threatening to tear out and destroy the shining stone floor. As she walked to the base of the ancient city of Tiva Atlantis, the events reeled through her head. The two women stood at either end of the long table, one with firey red hair, hands places at either edge its' surface, and the other with pale skin and raven mane, arms crossed over her chest; two powerful females with staggeringly contrasting motives.
"My people did not have to revive you," Said Aiariel, silver eyes burring into Ziren's yellow ones. "I could have shipped you to the door step of Solar Dawn, Desolator."
"Then why didn't you?"
Aiariel walked around the table slowly, golden robes billowing in her wake, a delicate hand tracing the table's carve work.Coming closer to Ziren with each agonizingly careful step. "I had assumed that this was more beneficial for the both of us."
With a wave of her free hand, sparks of fire danced around the table in front of Ziren, then in an aburpt blaze of red and orange, a set of armor lay in front of the Desolator.
Ziren waited until the fire cleared to speak again.
"I have my own set of clothing."
Aiariel laughed, now two feet away from the monstrous woman. She bore no fear in her eyes, nor was there a hint of hesitation when she held a black staff to Ziren. "These have the Flag of Syirith on its' back. You will wear these and use this weapon I have granted you to represent Syirith for this tournament."
The Alchemists' eyes snapped to the government official, challenging her entirely.
They stood there for a moment, eyeing each other with the tension in the room so high is could electrocute them both.
"May I remind you, that you and your companion have destroyed the center of my capitol and our most famous museum? I was under the impression there is something or someone of importance to you in Syirith, and to not follow through with this simple request would prohibit you from ever coming back to this place." Aiariel sat down delicately in the chair in front of the proclaimed devil, rosy cheeks raised into a smile.
Ziren sat in silence for a moment, then held the staff out at arms length, examining it.
"At the staff's tip are chunks of Iltra, which will amplify your attacks and defense. It's made with military grade trekinwood. It'd take a raging dragon to break it," The official explained. She then tapped the onyx armor with a long fingernail. "Speaking of dragons... You must take care of this. It is rare. This armor was constructed of entirely of one scale of the Syirithian dragon that resides in Paleoth. It is immaculately strong, but rather heavy. When struck it sends out a of electricity, so be careful as you walk through the city to Tiva Atlantis."
Ziren eyed the armor, then the woman, then the staff and back to the woman.
"So if I win, I am cleared to enter in Syirith at any time I please?"
"The rewards go to me, but yes. You may. You'd be seen as a hero," Aiariel rose from the wooden chair and turned her back to Rhizae. "It'd be absurd of the High Council to not welcome a Syirithian winner of the Crucible with open arms."
The Alchemist had heard enough. She gathered the heavy armor in her hands and made her way towards the grand exit of the UniHouse of Osceaux.
"…One last thing, Miss Rhizae."
There was a pause. Ziren turned her head...
"That set you hold, the staff and all. Its' title is The Desolator."
The undead woman continued her decent toward the exit with a ghost of a smile on her face.
Now, at the base of Tiva Atlantis, she inspected the runes against the floating trekinwood tree surrounding powerul shards of violet Iltra. Grazing a hand against its' wood. Ready. Patient.  Sorry, I'm too lazy to resize these pictures. |
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Post by Osrybb on Jun 8, 2014 3:40:07 GMT
Viktaal, now comfortable with the new weight within his left hand, walked quietly along the streets and turned the many corners of Tiva Atlantis with both "Kentan" and "Manducare" drawn. His thumb of his left hand traced the top of the handle of the gunblade that was "Kentan", the lefty. At this point in time, it was an extension of himself, much like Manducare, the righty, has been for a long time. Getting a twin weapon of the original Manducare was difficult enough. Achieving the same balance, the same runes that line the blade, the same colors... but switched to be fitting for left hand. Now, the twin weapons were held, each at his sides loosely, reflected any bits of light, adding to the sort of majesty the blades had. Viktaal would not do too well when it came to sound, but in the way he looked around, and the way he walked... nobody would know a thing; nobody addressed him, so nobody would find out. It wouldn't be too long, Viktaal imagined, until it came for him to fight for the tournament. He smiled at the entire reason he was here. Perhaps it was a display of a sort of insanity within him that he didn't display since he didn't talk to people, or perhaps he was just ambitious and liked the challenge, but he was going to participate because it was going to be fun. Viktaal was alone. Nobody convinced him to participate, nobody attempted to talk him out of it; the only reason he was even aware of the tournament was because he just so happened to be reading the lips of a couple people who were talking about it. So, he decided he'd try his hand. The shoes he wore masked his steps pretty well. He wasn't really aware of how he would be taken in for his choice in attire, especially considering that he was obviously a fighter with the weapons that were drawn by his sides. Ironic, he thought with a smile. Why am I paying attention to my shoes when I should probably be watching where I'm going?
Viktaal decided he should prepare a little more, he didn't want to get caught off guard. When he stopped and looked up from his shoes, there he found the person he was looking for. It was a gut feeling. If he was wrong, then he would be fighting and killing someone random... I can live with that.First, for an opening display, he thought. Using just a minor illusion, Viktaal decided to make use of his seeing her slide her hand along, and grinned. Noted only by his pointing Kentan towards her and the tree, where she traces her hand would appear to tear into the tree, leaving what appears to be a deeply-embedded cut. Immediately afterwards, as Viktaal would dedicate just enough division of his energy, the sense that someone else was there would begin to be felt by any around. Figment: The tree looks to be receiving damage from Ziren's hand running along it.
Replication(0) |
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Post by Sol on Jun 10, 2014 16:53:43 GMT
Viktaal wins via time disqualification
Good luck in round 2, Vikky!
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