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| Rylianis v Kaono; ~Seraraye Tourney Final~ | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 24 2009, 12:52 AM (42 Views) | |
| Rylianis | Jun 24 2009, 12:52 AM Post #1 |
Lord of the Realm
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A thin sheer of sweat covered The Stalker's brow as he surveyed the landscape for the coming battle. His perspiration dampened the cowl over his head, and the grey cloth over his face, causing an uncomfortable chill over his neck and back, like a cold sweat. He was nervous, but faced the world with a stony, determined demeanour which convinced others that he was calm and composed within himself - and indeed, convinced himself to an extent. The height of his art, the precision of his skill, and the condition of his body would be open to the scrutiny of the entire world - he intended to hold nothing back from his opponent, and through strength of arms and will, he would take everything from him. I will awake tomorrow to find that this nightmare has passed. I will eat my breakfast, do my books, meet some clients, maybe crack a few skulls too. Until that time, however, I have to submit to the lowliest station, the most unthinking and unthinkable way of life, in order to survive this. The audience's cheer still rang in his ears from his entrance. From the gladiatorial cells within the guts of the arena he had emerged, slowly hearing what he thought to be the already blood-mad crowd - no! That was the sound of their sheer anticipation; the noise which accompanied his emergence to the arena was louder than anything he could have expected. All of Avalon roared into his ears - begging him to fight as hard as he could, for as long as he could, and if he couldn't succeed, they demanded that his death was to be as spectacular and honourable as possible for a mortal to achieve. The ringing distracted him, but he could not force it to stop, so he accepted the reality of its distraction as part of the world itself - part of life, part of wisdom, part of the furniture. Take a deep breath, Stalker, because you're going down. To survive, you have to plummet to the lowest depths, and give up for a few hours, everything that makes you a half-elf - everything that makes you a living, thinking, worthy being. The height of your art, from the outside, is the view from the mountain, but the experience is that of the lowest, darkest, most treacherous valleys - it is the depth of all experience. It's all straight downhill from here, Stalker, so take a deep breath. Stepping onto the arena floor, he immediately realised the trickery of his host. The floor itself was a trap, and this he could tell by observing the uneven surface tiles, and having seen far too many traps and other devices in his time. Plus, it just felt wrong to him - too featureless and vast to be anything else. This realisation of his predicament set off a very familiar train of thought for The Stalker; he began to wonder why he was even here, risking his life for gold and glory - neither of which he really needed any more. The gamut of his aspirations and feelings - to be loved and admired, to transcend his fear of death, and even its reality, to be the greatest in the world, they ran through his mind as possible explanations for this activity, and he pretended to be satisfied with this brief moment of introspection. Yet, he felt he could not ignore the truth of the issue for much longer - the reality of Rylianis' change, from The Stalker, a man who constantly lived at the edge of life and death, to the Lord of the Realm - a slowly weakening, quickly aging half-elf with more of a taste for luxury and mind-altering concoctions than he has for the harshness and substance of reality he used to love. Rylianis took that promised deep breath, and exhaled away problems and concerns such as these. He would have to pretend to himself that he was not in control of his life, or his surroundings. Instead, a powerful, unnamed force had promised to spare his life in exchange for the death of this one, insignificant little meatbag. Skaren. Whilst he was waiting, he decided to check his ordinance, make sure that everything was in the right spot. One by one, he reached inside his robes, felt the presence of his spikes, flash bombs, fire bombs and smoke bomb, as well as untying a few of the straps which held his utility gauntlets together, to see whether the mechanisms were still in good condition. Everything, on the face of it, was in fine condition, and so he was ready to face his opponent with just one more deep breath... There. Edited by Rylianis, Jul 1 2009, 02:49 AM.
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 "All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle  Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize  Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Kaono | Jun 30 2009, 01:48 PM Post #2 |
The Stormbringer
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Time, how much time has passed since he had proceeded past the semi-finals of this tournament and was ready to become the champion? Unknown, but the young wolf has gained his woads, symboling the completion of his rite. As of now, Kaono was officially an adult a true warrior of the Dian clan, and earned the title “The Ash” a warrior with no equal in pure blade work. Kaono at the age of 19 has surpassed many older warriors of his clan in terms of raw skill... all that was left was for him to gather enough experience for him to truly be their equal let alone be ready to take on the mantle of the his generations strongest warrior. His opponent he knew very little about, as always he was ignorant of the way the world worked outside his own domain. Though the quality of wit and skill that this tournament has produced has lead the youth to understand that whomever he had to fight in this final round to decide on just who would reign supreme... would be no push over. Worse still it seems that not only the opponent would be the thing to test his might, his skill, and his will to stand above all others, to climb the mountain of corpses and take the throne away from the greatest of warriors. Yes... his goal although far away... his first steps had already been taken. With steadfast determination he would continue to climb and cut to ribbons anyone or anything that would get in his way. This day, the savage appeared at the arena cloak less, proudly displaying his scarred frame as well as the newly added woads that spiraled along his entire frame. From his very face down to his fingertips... ashen woads enhanced by the countless scars that covered his body, places where he has been impaled, slashed, burned, whipped, his muscles rended from bone. And yet through it all he still stood, stronger than ever and ready still for anything else his path would throw at him. Silver eyes peered free of his ashen hair, both arms rested atop the hilt of the 4 blades at his hip as Kaono comfortably stood on the obviously trapped tiles at his feet. He had entered after his opponent and as such... was ready for anything to happen... be it the first strike or not. “Come then. (( Crap but I suck at intro posts)) |
 "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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| Rylianis | Jul 1 2009, 04:26 PM Post #3 |
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Lord of the Realm
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He could feel it as though it were a shard of ice stuck into the core of his brain, permeating his consciousness so that it now thought and felt instead of him. It was now that the horrifying, uncompromising, all-consuming evil which pervaded his entire soul had become manifest into the physical world. His preparation for the fight had slowly allowed it to accumulate, and now it poured forth through his blood vessels into every fibre of his being. It felt cold and alien to him, and the last vestiges of his remaining will begged that this unnatural process should not continue... but that voice was nothing more than a whisper now - it had no control. Instead, this evil slowly became a part of him like breath or sight, for the dark force lying within him had determined that this situation was a cause of dire distress, one which Rylianis could not handle on his own. Protect the Vessel. Destroy the Threat. Leave the Vessel's mind intact. This is my command. The Stalker's eyes opened, and he breathed no more. Paying no attention to his words, he began his mad dash towards his opponent. The ground was uneven, as he expected, and only a few metres from his starting point, he encountered the first trap - a trapdoor into a pit of tigers. He ducked down to try and slow his momentum using a slide, but this was not enough to stop him from falling into the pit. The crowd gasped in shock at this early turn of events, and in horror as they heard the growling of strange beasts from within. Luckily, the designers had made the walls surrounding the pit quite small, so as he fell into the pit, he thrust his legs outwards and caught the sides with his feet, thus slowing, and then stopping his descent at a height that the tigers could not reach. However, the pit appeared to be accelerating towards the surface of the arena at a slow but steady speed... could it be that they had a few extra participants? The Stalker calculated to that effect, and quickly used his grappling hook to get him back to the surface. After climbing out of the pit, he decided to once again try to close the distance on his opponent, but not before attempting to dazzle him. Jogging at a slower speed now, he awaited the next trap, which presented itself in very short order. The rhythm of his feet was once again altered by a tile which seemed to sink underneath his weight, but the effects were far more immediate. Suddenly, a block of wood burst out from underneath the arena, sending pieces of shattered tile across the battlefield. He shielded his eyes from the source of the explosion, which proved to be a grave mistake. The block of wood had a myriad holes in it, and with the familiar sound of an automated crank as it reached The Stalker's ears, he then noticed that three of these holes lined up perfectly with his body. Rylianis, you are quite a fool. I'll be damned if I let you have this kind of autonomy again. With a foreboding sound of a click, the crank stopped, and the trap fired a series of bolts in several directions. The Stalker's reaction was robust and acrobatic, performing an aerial cartwheel to avoid the bolts both aimed directly towards him, and those likely to fire towards his intended location. The danger became far worse, as the wooden block then separated into three sections and each section began to rotate and fire bolts independently of the others. To counter this, The Stalker chose to land in a split position, rather than on his feet, and try to lean back so as to remove himself from the line of fire. This almost worked, as he managed to escape all but one of the projectiles. This last, unlucky bolt entered his path at the moment he had landed, and threatened to puncture his chest. Thinking quickly once again, The Stalker tried to lean backwards to avoid it, and placed his left gauntlet in between himself and the arrow. Luckily enough for him, the shrapnel device and the thick leather of his gauntlet stopped most of the impact, and he lied down until the storm of arrows ceased. Edited by Rylianis, Jul 1 2009, 04:27 PM.
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Kaono | Jul 1 2009, 04:57 PM Post #4 |
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The Stormbringer
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Kaono watched as his opponent charged forward with a reckless abandon, with fearlessness in each step that even the most savage of warriors could not help but admire. Silver eyes watched, ears perked… as the warrior that stood atop the wobbly tile, he continued to “feel” the arena around him, gather the rhythm of this domain and make it his own. The sounds of the mechanisms in the floor, the roar of the crowd even his opponent’s heartbeat all of it played into the music that was this death trap of an arena. The sounds played in his mind, in his heart, and even in his very soul… until finally, the savage himself would add his own music. Steel was drawn with an almost inaudible hiss, Alpha and Omega were drawn Silver eyes awakened with a bestial hunger that would soon be quenched. He would end this! Now and not give his opponent a chance to react. The heart within his chest pumped faster, thumping so hard it threatened to remove itself from his body. Like a wolf on the hunt, Kaono moved off the trapped tile as it literally opened up a pit of raging flames just before him. But the youth did not stop; no he did not even quiet his movements as he leaped forward across the pit as the very flames licked his flesh and clothing. Burning hair and singeing. His rhythm would not be stopped, his blitz would not halt as he continued deep into the minefield of traps. Ether my blind luck or pure chance… the savage made it closer still to his opponent, his body swiftly moving easily so that even a normal person could follow his movements… but even then, even as Kaono stepped so lightly upon the tiles they couldn’t see where he was going next. What was it? Speed? No… something more… something different and well it didn’t quite add up. The savage drew closer, and as he did… that blind luck ran out as he stepped on a trapped tile, a loud resounding “click” and erupting from beneath his feet a spike that could run even a mighty dragon through with ease. Barely… Kaono rolled to the right, avoiding most of the potential damage although his left inner thigh cut a nice gash upon it. Though out of the woods he was not, for it seemed from the sky a similar spike had came falling. Quickly the youth leaped forward, pressing upon another tile as it again let out that sickening feeling he would come to hate. But what did this tile hold? |
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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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| Rylianis | Jul 1 2009, 06:55 PM Post #5 |
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Lord of the Realm
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It seems to be slowing down. Try to move now. The bolt trap still hadn't run out of ammunition, and The Stalker was beginning to feel more than a touch vulnerable as he lay on his back, with only a peripheral view of what was going on around him. The number of projectiles that had whizzed past his face was now considerably less, so he decided to get up and attempt to disable the machine... but far too quickly. Another arrow grazed past his shoulder, forcing him down again. He had already figured out that the trap made a particular empty clicking sound when it ran out of ammunition, and the frequency of this sound was steadily increasing. He leaned forwards slowly to observe it in action, and noticed that the lowest wooden block was no longer functioning... perfect he thought, and twisted his body around so that he could crawl beneath the continuing action of the crossbow trap. He moved closer and closer to it, and was soon right next to it. As far as he could tell, his opponent had been wrestling with the same kinds of difficulties. This is good for something at least - the trap protects me from him getting close to me, for now at least... a little closer and I can disable it... The Stalker pulled out a spike to that end, but suddenly a sharp pain reached his right leg - a tiger! The pit had finally reached the surface, and whilst most of them had been stuck by spikes from the trap, or had encountered other devices, some still lived on the outskirts of the arena, and one of them was currently toying with his right leg using its claws. He could not help releasing a gasp of shock, and kicked out against the tiger's face. This was probably a bad idea, seeing as it didn't really seem to comprehend that the situation around it was very dangerous until about now. The tiger roared, and puffed its body up to a fuller size... only to be struck between the eyes by a wooden shaft. How fortuitous for The Stalker, indeed - this was not lost on him in the slightest, and as he returned to destroying the device using two spikes, he made a note to be more careful. The trap began smouldering from within, and strange mechanical choking sounds reverberated from within it. At last, it stopped working, and he leaned against it to stand. Forgetting his situation for a moment, he stood up, more dazed than anything, and looked out to the crowd with a feeling of exhaustion and confusion. This moment of silence was not to last for long, however, as his opponent had triggered a rather strange trap. From the four corners of the arena, the gigantic dragon statues which framed the battlefield began to bellow, causing the arena floor to quake from the monstrous sound. The Stalker continued to lean upon the now-defunct device as a crutch, and looked at his opponent to ensure that he would not take advantage of the situation. After what seemed like an hour, but was really only a few seconds, the rumbling stopped, and The Stalker looked around him in preparation for the worst... but having seen nothing, once again took steps towards his opponent... His pace was halted by a rather strange development. From the sky, hundreds of bone fragments began to scatter across the grounds. Skulls, ribcages, femurs, carpals, wings and all sorts of other bones from a variety of animals rained down upon them - a hailstorm of the dead, one might say. They weren't exactly light, either, and The Stalker tried his best to cover his head by crouching low. This too, like the bellowing, lasted for only a few moments, and then there was silence once again. He stood up, once again looked around him for any threats, and, with no small amount of confusion, flicked his hidden blade into an active position and walked towards the enemy. Suddenly, the bones around him began to move of their own accord. He first noticed them as they slowly dragged across the ground, creating a scraping noise which made the blood run cold. He also began to feel quite queasy, which was a good sign of what was going to happen next. The pieces of skeleton dramatically quickened in pace, and began to hover in the air, roughly about where they would be located on a full body... Undead? They have summoned the undead? Before he knew it, the arena was filled with mostly humanoid animated skeletons - unarmed but nonetheless quite dangerous. As a matter of fact, he was surrounded by four of them. Your hidden blade is useless, Stalker, break them with your body! The Hidden Hand's instructions were clear, and he returned the blade to its sheath with a sharp twist of the arm. This twist, for some reason, caught the "attention" of the skeleton horde, which began to close in on him and his opponent. The Stalker turned to his left, and ducked under the fist of one of them. With as much force as he could muster, he struck out against the spine of the corpse, which was clearly exposed underneath the ribs, and broke it apart with a single strike. Fragments littered the floor, and luckily for him, did not simply re-form. The fallen skeleton warrior collapsed into two pieces, and became inanimate once again. The Stalker smiled, and noticed that these facts would make life significantly easier. After detaching a flash bomb and throwing it towards his opponent, he began destroying these lumbering undead soldiers as he moved towards him. The audience cheered on whilst he utterly annihilated their ranks, kicking them in the ribcage, tearing their arms from the sockets, crushing their skulls with a single forceful slap, or strike of the knee. After picking one up, throwing it to the ground and shattering its pelvis with his boot, he realised he was now in combat range of his enemy, and flicked his hidden blade back into striking mode. |
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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