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| Our Wild Blades Touch and the Hot Sparks Fly; Tournament Round II: Skaren VS Rurouni | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 30 2009, 05:14 PM (109 Views) | |
| Rurouni | Apr 30 2009, 05:14 PM Post #1 |
Katsujin-ken satsujin-to...
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Match # 2 Skaren vs. Shadyn In the wild plains of Rodirraen (Other Lands) there is what is known as the running of the bison. A herd so large is stretches off into the horizon in every direction that runs from north to west. This will be the battleground of Match # 2, a wild battle atop rampaging bison. You are not to ride them, but stand atop of the bison as you battle, losing your step or if the bison you are standing on at the time falls, and you do not get out of the way, will get you trampled, and an automatic IC win for your opponent. And they prattle on about bison being rare and near extinction… The Nephillim, Shadyn Kyros Aurion, had seen many remarkable things in his considerably lifespan, but none quite like this. The herd of bison stretched over the ground like a great brown carpet, stretching off in all directions interminably. It was a landscape like none other he’d seen before, one where you could hardly see the landscape itself for the creatures racing across it. Apparently, they had already been incited by some unknown force into a ferocious stampede. Frankly, the Angelus was simultaneously awed by this fascinating spectacle and disbelieving that this was to be the site of this semi-final round in the Seraraye Tournament. Besides taking place in rather inspired and innovative locales, it seemed this Tournament had attracted a wide plethora of interesting combatants. His last opponent, one Reiku Tohno as he had later learned, had possessed some rather unique abilities that had thrown Shadyn entirely off his guard. In fact, if it weren’t for a few touches by his lucky stars, he might not be the one now facing the prospect of battling on the backs of a herd of bison. This was a prospect that he had grappled with constantly ever since the location of his battle came into view, from high in the clouds above Avalon. Though it might seem odd for a winged creature such as he, it was quite rare for Shadyn to travel in this manner. He normally preferred to walk. Many who were perpetually earthbound could not fathom why he would choose such a thing, for many would empty their coffers for one chance to see as a hawk or falcon sees. However, as vast and majestic as the skies were, they were empty. The greatest thing they had to offer was a view of the land below, arrayed out before you in all directions and seeming so quiet and peaceful. But even with such an august view, it was still only a distant sight. To Shadyn, it was far more moving to walk that land, experiencing it, taking in all of its wonders up close. Flying, though a fabulous ability in its own right, was often something overblown in the minds of those who were bound in the throes of gravity. Even so, Shadyn had taken to the skies in order to minimize his travel time and reach the destination of his next battle as quickly as possible. He had not been told where he was to fight exactly; he had just been given directions to the location. Shadyn had hoped to reach the “arena” before his opponent so that he could appraise the situation and prepare himself mentally for what he was sure would be a prodigious battle as the last one had been. Indeed, as the air coursed over and between the feathers of his four wings, all spread wide and gliding on the thermals rising from the great plains, a thoughtful glint shone in his golden eyes. Who shall it be this time, and will this battle prove as interesting as the last? The Nephillim certainly was prepared for the worst. After how the last fight had ended, he had seen fit to don his Magnanimitas Armor for this bout. The magical raiment sparkled with a bedazzling blue in the bright sunlight, melting his image in with the backdrop of the skies. Four wings, feathers in various shades of gray, stretched from his back; the top two emerged from his shoulderblades and were full-size, with a very considerable wingspan. The two beneath were smaller and more aerodynamic, suitable for complex aerial maneuvers. The Twin Blades of the Eclipse, Soltia and Lunaras, were sheathed on his back as always, with Soltia poking his regal hilt over his right shoulder while Lunaras was lashed horizontally across the backs of his hips. Soltia’s pommel along with the ruby set in his hilt was ablaze with such fiery radiance that it was almost difficult to look at, reacting to the light of the Sun above. Unlike the last fight, when he had worn nothing but basic leather peasants’ attire and had been slopped in rust-colored mud from the cave, this time Aurion looked the part of a true warrior angel. Shadyn’s eyes glistered in Sol’s light, scanning the vast herd beneath him as he searched for any discrepancy that would betray his opponent’s location. If his adversary had already arrived, Shadyn did not want to be caught unawares when he dropped in altitude. Edited by Rurouni, May 2 2009, 08:23 AM.
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I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things, The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.   And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains: round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away. | |
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| Kaono | May 1 2009, 06:57 AM Post #2 |
The Stormbringer
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Battle, conflict, blood. The things he was bred for, as a savage, as a barbarian living his semi nomadic life high above the clouds in a valley he has called home for the majority of his life. Isolated for a reason, and within that isolation unlike mos others... has tempered the Dian Clan to their utmost limits. Skaren, was the product of generations of harsh training, warriors blood, and a chaotic environment. He as well as many of his brothers and sisters his age are without a doubt, considered the strongest generation to come from their loins. The youth, though once considered the weakest and a frailer... has begun to prove his elders wrong in his time on his rite. Strength came in many forms... Sujin himself teaches such... and the youth was determined to prove his Chieftain right. His last battle was... anti climatic. Though he blames the fact that his thirst got the best of him, the beast within nearly shattering the bars and chains that bind him and clawing to the surface. Yes... his body scarred from the fight had healed easily for the most part. One can easily see the burns that are etched across his frame, yet they seemed to meld with his past scars as well as the woads that roam across his frame. The battle ended with Skaren following suit with the girl who stepped off the cliff to escape, he jumping after willingly putting his body in harms way if it meant he could pay the wounds back 10 fold. Sadly... she payed the debt back herself with her ravaged leg, rather than the youth running Alpha though her skull. Skaren however... is an early riser and rarely ever sleeps to begin with. Atop the Bison he was standing, in the middle of the sea of brown, their thundering hooves resonating throughout his entire frame. His eyes closed as he dangerously treaded along the backs of the constantly moving beasts. In his mind, from the sounds of the beasts themselves and his own heartbeat... the youth mapped the battlefield almost entirely confident in their movements and his own so that he could sadly travel without fear of falling. This unnatural knowing... was a oddity among his people and even others. It was not magic, nor was it instinct... it was something different, his mind worked differently and saw things different. This unnatural thing gave Skaren that edge over those in combat, equal to many and only growing stronger. On his frame were 5 weapons. The weightless dagger on his right leg, strapped to the buckled boots on his feet. On his hips 4 blades each of which with interchangeable sheathes... yet in each plain and rather unadorned sheath held a different weapon. Alpha and Tempest on his left hip, while Omega and Torrent on his right. His combat style was a mystery... at least to those in the tournament, everyone but Riku would know what his skill with steel was... and the woman from the match of darkness would not know because of the black. So... how would this swordsmen battle end? As the Ice Eyed Wolf, Skaren looked to the sky... ashen hair blowing in the breeze created by the bison. His silent almost invisible presence causing the youth himself to meld in with the beasts themselves. |
 "Come... Show me what your kind calls fury."-Kaono "If your blade is drawn... then cut."-Kaono }|{Description}|{}|{Theme Song}|{}|{Inventory}|{ PhantomInventory | |
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| Rurouni | May 2 2009, 08:16 AM Post #3 |
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Katsujin-ken satsujin-to...
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Out of the sky tumbled a falling star, detaching itself from the glare of the sun and dropping at a terrific speed down towards the vast, turbulent carpet of bison. It moved with all the celerity of a falcon homing in on its prey, fringed with a fiery glow that gave it the impression of a falling meteor. Its exact form was unclear, but it appeared to have a pair of great wings that were folded by its side to achieve a maximally aerodynamic shape. Its trajectory was such that it would strike the man who so confidently strode across the backs of the bison as easily as a king over his regal carpet. Down it blazed, like glistering Phaethon, and blew straight past the proud warrior. Accompanying the turbulent wind of its passage was a dazzling and powerful cut to the midsection, a speeding blade cutting a burning path through the air and, if left unblocked, the flesh of an overconfident berserker. Immediately after passing where the man stood, the scorching blur angled its flight path upward, turning into a loop angling back over its enemy's head. When it reached a point about thirty feet in front of where the warrior had stood and thirty feet above the stampeding bison, it turned a neat barrel roll in midair and flared its wings, arresting its motion into a brief hover. It had revealed itself to be in the shape of a man, one resplendent in sleek, celestial armor and two pairs of magnificent, angelic wings. Shadyn managed to float in place for a long moment, during which time he reached back with his right hand and drew Soltia from his sheath. The blade burst forth over his right shoulder with a terrific flare not unlike the Sun itself, the holy sword pulsating in the bright midday light. It arced back and up slightly in Shadyn's grip as air spilled out from beneath his wings and they lost their lifting power, dropping the Nephillim neatly onto the back of the nearest buffalo as gravity took him, approximately twenty or twenty-five feet from where his opponent stood. Despite this extravagant entrance, this was the extent of Shadyn's impressive show of angelic grandeur. He landed on the back of a bison relatively safely, but unfortunately the great furry beast did not seem to appreciate the sudden weight that had suddenly dropped onto his back. It gave a great moan and began to thrash about as it ran, forcing the Angelus to grasp a handful of coarse dark-brown hair to keep his balance. Shadyn remained on his feet but in a crouched position on its back, keeping his center of gravity as low as he felt comfortable with while still being combat-ready. Soltia angled down towards the ground by the bison's side, glowing with all the glistering brilliance of Sol at its greatest height in the sky. Also unfortunately, the surrounding bison didn't seem to appreciate the extraordinary miniature sun that had suddenly landed amongst their number. They gave great bleats of fear and began to veer in different directions, making the herd even more tumultuous. Well this is uncomfortable. Shadyn was being forcibly awakened to one of his fundamental weaknesses. Though he was highly agile and so had superb balance and grace, he was in top form when his feet stood upon solid, even ground and he could perform the high speed, often highly acrobatic maneuvers characteristic of the Ariardre Ryeris unhindered. Unfortunately, the top of a stampeding herd of bison did not meet those conditions in the slightest, and his entrance, though impressive, had aggravated the situation further. It was all he could do to keep himself from being flung off of the bucking, infernal creature and trampled underfoot by thousands of its kin. Though his teeth gritted together with frustration, Shadyn masked his momentary weakness by raising his narrowed, golden eyes to meet those of his foe. He stared down his opponent with all the ferocity of a feral wildcat, warrior's spirit churning his aura to a feverish intensity. "Though I bear you no ill will, I'm afraid you must fall." Even over the thunderous clamor of thousands of hooves beating into the earth in every direction, the Nephillim's fell voice rang out clear and powerful. He might not be in the most ideal situation for this battle, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to win. |
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I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things, The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains: round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away. | |
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| Kaono | May 3 2009, 11:03 AM Post #4 |
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The Stormbringer
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This day would be a long one, but Skaren had high hopes and higher dreams on this noon. The man he was going to fight was a god once, Dubbed Fallen by his very own chieftain, and that Fallen God has fought the very same chief many many times. This day, there was a chance that Skaren may be able to at least step from the Dian's strongest warriors shadow. His generation which was taking shape as its own was still engulfed by the previous generations might. With this battle, though it was a tournament and not a life or death struggle... he may, just maybe be able to crawl from the shadow and allow for himself and the others who constantly build their strength a chance to shine in their own light. Maybe. Confidence is not something that drives this youth. Despite the air he gives off, Skaren is no more confident than the next man. True he recognizes his own skill, but unlike many he has grew up in a world were the “one stronger than you” was his entire clan, an enemy stronger than the next around every corner. This, gave him a great respect for strength but also a great want for it himself, So with a nigh unstoppable, indomitable will that pushes him forward... the one thing that human beings possess greater than any other race there is. Their will, and in Skaren, in this youth as well as the generation he represents... it has become so focused, so concentrated, that its almost a suffocating wind threatening to remove the breath from your very lungs. His body reacted, the beast beneath his feet as solid a place to stand as any other. His life in the mountains and valleys of Cloudsweeps giving him an advantage in balance due to the constantly shifting and moving foothold the two would have this day. Alpha was unsheathed half way, gripped reversely and barely removed from the sheath, just enough so that the first strike from the Fallen would be reflected, bouncing off the dragon forged steel with little effort, though the resulting sonic boom from the speeds at which he flew caused the youth to need to step forward unto another bison and find his balance as he unsheathed the steel completely holding it in a reversed grip fashion just in front of him, raised slightly with the point aimed directly at the spine of the second of the two bison he was standing on. Then, as the angel descended landing upon the beasts back and stumbling, the sudden rhythm of the brown bucking carpet changed. The sudden change in rhythm from the bison caused Skaren to change his own. Taking that change he rushed forward, and with each uneasy step, his mind had begun to map the new beat of hooves, and his steps grew more steady as he closed the distance. Alpha raised to the air, his lower half seemingly unguarded. He would repay the preemptive strike with blood, a Fallen Gods blood at that. And so... it begins. |
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"Come... Show me what your kind calls fury."-Kaono "If your blade is drawn... then cut."-Kaono }|{Description}|{}|{Theme Song}|{}|{Inventory}|{ PhantomInventory | |
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| Rurouni | May 6 2009, 06:21 AM Post #5 |
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Katsujin-ken satsujin-to...
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So far, things were not looking so good. In his last fight, Shadyn had been able to take his opponent by surprise and quickly go on the offensive. Keeping his adversary constantly on the run had proved to be the advantage that had tipped the scales in his favor. He had planned to replicate that strategy in this fight, which explained his aerial strike, but it appeared the location and manner of this round would not lend itself to such tactics. His opponent had deflected his blow with no more than a thought, it seemed. His every motion seemed so coordinated that it appeared almost effortless, and even more so to an Angelus who could hardly keep himself from being thrown to the ground and trampled underfoot. The infernal bison beneath Shadyn's feet was new weaving back and forth, grunting in a frenzied attempt to fling its rider off of its back. It was all the Nephillim could do to keep his balance; his left hand gripped a hunk of hair on the back of the bison's neck as if threatening to yank it out. Meanwhile, Shadyn's eyes narrowed, sparking in the sunlight as he watched his adversary draw nearer, seeming to almost glide across the backs of the bison with the flow of the herd. It was uncanny, the way he seemed to know exactly where to place his feet with every step. Shadyn's teeth gritted together and his right hand tightened on Soltia's swirled hilt. Damn it...he's had time to grow comfortable with this whole situation, whereas I flew here and so am forced to do it now. I should have thought of that. But that didn't matter now; it was in the past and unchangeable. He had to cope with the consequences of his actions. He considered taking off again, but such a feat would be very difficult from such an unsteady position. His wings were folded tightly against his back to avoid catching the air and hindering him. To throw them open could just as easily fling him into a bison's horns as into the sky. I have to find a way to use the battlefield against him. Shadyn slightly shifted his foot position on the back of the bison he rode on, starting to feel a bit more balanced at least. The horns of a bison were fairly small compared to those of other organisms, curving up from the sides of their heads, but they were no less sharp. If thrust into a man's flesh, they would likely debilitate him without actually killing him. In addition, the entire herd seemed primed to do just that if they could only get one of the two combatants in the proper situation. Shadyn's own "mount" was a perfect example. And it was from that and watching his opponent step between another two bison that at last gave the Angelus an idea. Shadyn's left hand at last relinquished its feverish grip on the bison’s hair and whipped up, aiming vaguely in the direction of his adversary. Meanwhile, his sword-hand angled back to rest on the bison’s rear end so as to keep his balance. “Judgment Ray!”* Shadyn’s eyes flashed in unison with his fiery blade as he summoned forth the powers of his god, Sol, manifest in the very sunlight that blanketed the battlefield. There was a burst of bright, pure white light as a pulse of blinding energy emanated from Shadyn’s palm. The energy formed a globular shape not unlike a fireball as it lanced from Shadyn’s palm not directly towards his opponent, or indeed even the bison he stood on at the moment, but at the bison he was about to step on. The burning white energy struck the bison full on its hind end, fairly singing off all the hair there and leaving the skin badly burned. The energy was clearly not strong enough to kill, only to wound, and not even wound badly. But what purpose could Shadyn have for such a weak attack? That purpose would quickly become clear, as the bison his opponent had been just about to tread on suddenly reared up on its hind legs, eyes bulging out of their very sockets with pain and rage. As it did, it thrust its formidable horns straight up, to meet an unwary swordsman dead in either the crotch or even in a vital area. Besides that, it had obviously now become quite an unwelcome place to set one’s feet. ((My profoundest apologies for the delay. The Air Force has been putting me through a series of eye tests for the last several days, the results of which have left my pupils constantly dilated. As a result, they are extremely sensitive to light and it is extremely difficult to focus my vision enough to read much of anything on my computer screen. Thus, sending anything more than a text message or an IM has been nigh impossible. Fortunately my next appointment isn't until the 19th, so my eyes are beginning to return to normal. Again, my humblest apologies for holding things up.)) |
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I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things, The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains: round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away. | |
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