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 Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2017 10:15 am
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Event Numero Uno: Coliseum Tournament!
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As you approach the city center you can see a large crowd, everyone quietly taking to their neighbor. Every conversation built up to create thunderous roar. This was definitely a special day in the central market of The City of Twelve. Everyone knows that some announcement is about to be made by The Council of Twelve. In the center of the market is a large building, with a balcony 100 feet off the ground. This seems to be the center of attention. A large human approached the podium on the balcony. He had as much gold on him as he had girth around his belt. He was obviously one of the members of The Council of Twelve. A Baron most likely. "Hear me! Hear me! You vagabonds, scavengers, and rotten people alike! The citizens of the Skaglands! I am here to announce that we will be holding our first ever tournament! It will be in our newly build coliseum!" The fat man pointed towards a large round building at the far end of the market. He placed his hands on his large belly and continued. "We will be granting the victor of the tournament, the title of Baron! They will join The Council of Twelve and rule the central skaglands as a baron or baroness!" The man turned around to walk away, revealing a tiny red cape that was not visible before due to his enormous size. There was stark silence for a moment, but an aide on the balcony gave the signal to clap, and suddenly the crowd erupted with the sound of festivity! The desk of signing up was in that same building at the center of the market. Not many people seemed to be willing to sign up. The City of Twelve was famous for their cruel arena fights. The people assumed that this would be no different.
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It is time to reveal the first event of Ark-Verse Zero! The City of Twelve is going to host their first ever Coliseum Tournament! The victor will be promoted to "Baron of Twelve," one of the top positions in all of the Skaglands. Almost everyone will get some kind of reward, even the non-combatants! so please continue to read the event details even if you do not wish for your RPC to participate! The purpose of this event is not just to create an event to spur activity, but to also encourage people to use the Faction System. Please feel free to visit the main Faction Page to learn about the benefits! Events are a great way to meet new people, gain F&R for your RPC, and Faction! In the future events may take on a more plot specific role, but you can always expect them to be fun! Please PM Narx with any event ideas you may have!
Requirements:
- None, anyone can participate, but there are a few rules below that you should take note of.
Details & Prizes:
-The first thing you need to note is that we will not be using the actual combat system! F&R will not count as a tie-breaker in this event, nor will RPC level automatically decide who wins! Instead we will have a voting system where the audience can vote for who role played the best combat. May the best combat role player win! The audience is defined as ANYONE not participating in the fight that is being voted on. The only requirement to be able to cast a vote, is you must be a member of the guild, and have a completed profile.
-Combat will last a total of 20 posts or less. 10 posts per combatant max.
-It is not a 'fight to the death' kind of tournament. It is a "point system" where the points are in actuality the votes you get from the audience. In the role play the points are decided by the council of twelve for how well you fought.
-If you are not in a faction, then you can ignore many of the below rules, if you plan to become part of a faction, or wish to NOT have your RPC fight (i.e. if you want to just spectate), or want to maximize your prizes outside of combat, then you should read below as it will help you get rewards for just spectating.
-If you enter the competition you will earn 10 F&R for your RPC, and an additional 10 F&R for each non participating member of your faction, and 5 F&R for members that are participating.
[If you have a faction of 3, and two participate, then RPC 1 earns 10, for himself and 10 for the non participating member, and 5 for the other. RPC 2 also earns 10 for himself, and 10 for the non participating member, and 5 for the other. Which means that both the participating members earn 15 total, and the non participating member earns 10. Likewise if all 3 decide to join, then every member earns a total of 20 F&R]
-For each match you you win, you earn 10 F&R for yourself, and 5 F&R for each other member of your faction regardless of whether or not they are participating!
-The first move/post will be decided randomly (via dice roll by Narx).
Combatant Information:
-Each fight will have a different setting or scenario. You may be given odd weapons to fight with, or put into rather strange setting, it is best to come prepared.
-You will be allowed to bring with you 3 items into the fight. These can be weapons, armor, or other items that have a utility. These are purely for role play purposes.
-There will be hired medics to attend to your wounds. Do not worry about RPC death no matter how terribly injured you get, you will not die unless you PM Narx telling him you want your RPC to die for dramatic effect.
-Again, this is not a fight to the death, but rather a timed fight, point based fight.
-There will be at least a day between each fight. In this period a poll will be made to decide the victor. Sometimes we may postpone the next fight if interesting role play is taking place.
-If you do not show up at the allocated time (given at least a 24 hour notice) you forfeit the fight. Additionally a schedule that works will be made that works.
-Spectators are to role play in The City of Twelve, combatants will be fighting in the Coliseum (this topic).
- Lastly, you will earn 5 F&R for voting for a victor of each match. As stated above you cannot vote for a match in which you are a combatant. Voting will take place in the Coliseum after the match has been resolved.
Prizes:
-The Victor will become a Baron of Twelve. Which is one of the leaders of the Skaglands. This title will come in handy down the road and should be added to your profile as an accomplishment (along with winning the tournament). They also will earn a bonus of 60 F&R for their faction! Divided evenly among all members!
- Second place wins a total of 30 F&R for their faction, and gets to name the next topic location! a floating island in Naiøria!
Roster of Combatants:
-Primae Pandora (Fanthrall)
-120Damian120 (Riyak )
-br3akape (Lyndis)
-Narxfang (Narx)
-Hareonca (Krosis Amalur)
-Valentine Valtieri (Qhinua Lonruil)
- Johnny HellKat (Araxie)
-Commando Omnipants (Fahim)
-atlanteanDragon (Mayrae)
-oOBrightShadowsOo (Vivian)
-A City Of Fools (Nike)
First Match
Primae Pandora (Fanthrall) Vs Valentine Valtieri (Qhinua Lonruil)
Victor: --- Primae Pandora (Fanthrall) Auto-Win
Second match:
br3akape (Lyndis) Vs Narxfang (Narx) Vs Hareonca (Krosis Amalur) Vs oOBrightShadowsOo (Vivian).
Victor: --- Ongoing
Third match:
120Damian120 (Riyak) vs. Johnny HellKat (Araxie)
Victor: --- 120Damian120 (Riyak) via Forfeit
Fourth match:
atlanteanDragon (Mayrae) Vs Commando Omnipants (Fahim) Vs A City Of Fools (Nike)
Victor: --- Ongoing
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 1:39 am
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[[Confrontation]]
Odd. That was one word to describe the feeling that washed over him as he waited in the dark holds of the arena, soon to be alight with steel and blood alike. He was curious as to what opponents he would face, recognizing that only the strong would step forward given the low number of entries into the tournament. To Qhin, it made him feel more alive than ever, as the blood pumping through his veins was only intensified by the anticipation of a coming battle. It would be spectacular, but he would have no chance to show his daughter his prowess, as he would leave her casket in the darkness to be retrieved after the battle. He placed his hand against the obsidian coffin, a certain grim determination in his eyes as he did. If, in regaining his former strength, he could free his daughter from her slumber, then he would begin exactly where he did as a child. It might not have been a coliseum of Irizan make, and the warriors may not have been his kin, but they would still surely provide a challenge for the weakened warrior king. "Artha...yweisu ahoh sjhan." (Artha...I'll come back for you.)
With a turn, the king entered the arena, much to the delight of what would be some of the spectators of the coming bout. He could see a look of confusion in some of their eyes. They wondered who the pale child with eyes as red as flame could be, and if the blade he carried was for show, or if he could truly lift it. Qhin couldn't help but laugh, just a little, as his excitement rose. Brushing his sweeping white hair behind his ears with a single hand allowed the crowd to see his smiling face, and a look of experience displaying the number of years the king had truly lived for. "Lurawyn nyusu rhaln ah kerae! Oca fahlhyn!" (Years later and I still get nervous! Everyone's watching!) Was it odd, then, for him to say that he was as giddy as he was raring to do battle? He reached up, his small hand grasping at the collar of the pristine white cape he wore before discarding it, revealing simple clothing as opposed to the armor he had become accustomed to. Much as he did when he was still a child, he would fight with no protection, and let his strength be his shield instead of the arm of a smith.
He would've liked to meet his opponent beforehand to gauge their strength, but it was no longer possible, so Qhin would great them with his strength and confidence from the very moment they entered the arena, just to show his true strength behind his feminine frame. Drawing the massive blade he carried from the back, Qhin planted it in the ground and stood, calm and ready for his challenger. Though it would be difficult to shake off two-thousand years of rust, he trusted himself to prove the might of the long-gone Irizan race with that single competition, as well as use the resources he gained from his fights in the arena to free his daughter, no matter the cost. To that end, the luster of fighting on a new battlefield faded somewhat, leaving him with solemn thoughts of his true duty, but just like a child, he was far too eager to pass up an opportunity to train himself more and see where the fighters of the modern age stood in comparison to fabled Irizan swordsmanship. It was sure to be quite a show!
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OOC: ~
Where he is: The Coliseum
Who he's with: His thoughts |
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 2:30 am
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FANTHRALL MURES
Horned head held high upon a strong neck, shoulder stiff and prepared to hold a blade, he stepped-- wait, no he didn't. Fanthrall was frankly not looking forward to this event at all but the man loved entertainers and such combats were a sweet, twisted kind of entertainment to the heart of which he'd decided to stumble with a crooked broad grin spread upon his face... Who are we kidding, Fanthrall had likely been drunk on suspicious berries he'd had somewhere on the edge of the Spire before he'd dragged himself into the city and signed up for something like this. The man loved his entertainment, but he didn't love it with this feverish madness; not the kind to risk his own precious life but then again, was it not similar to each day he'd spent in the Nyfødthjem Wildlands?
So, once more we reach to the twisted grin spread upon Fanthrall's face as he stepped forth from the shadows to walk upon the arena, the orange markings upon his skin resembling all too much of war-paint. He appeared casual almost; unarmed, on the first glance, albeit he'd brought his trusty dagger and somewhat feared it'd yet be taken from him. Other than that, however, and the sweet little bracelet hanging around his wrist, the man appeared to be just someone off the streets. Clothed in the only sufficiently white shirt that was set beneath the leather of his vest and quite possibly ready to pass himself as a viewer who'd simply gotten lost there. The viewers were where his gaze was drawn first, scanning over the crowd gathering still, and then he rested his eyes upon his apparent opponent, brown eyes drawing forth the red glint in them, narrowing slightly at the small stature shaded behind a sword that appeared to be bigger than himself and-- he gulped, and-- vanished.
Nothing more but an illusion set forth to scout whilst Fanthrall had snuck upon the arena himself, cautious and silent and far too unwilling to end up being harmed more, especially by a blade that big. However, he was also not ready to simply yield and act as if he'd not signed himself up there at all. That would be cowardly and whilst Fanthrall did not enjoy direct confrontation, he was not a cowardly man and frankly thought himself to hold more honor than half the people who'd spilled their blood upon that arena. So, it was a friendly wave he provided for the crowd as well as his opponent from the other, more distant side of the arena, preferring to allow himself the distance to make haste and take advantage of quick wit over brute strength in which department the Chimera was severely lacking. "Heya-hey!" Fanthrall called out his perfectly goofy greeting, making a mental promise to treat himself to some fine, delicious pine cones once this damned thing was over.
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 12:06 pm
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[[Confrontation]]
The wonderment in Qhin's eyes did not fade as his opponent took the field, looking a great deal stranger than the beings that Qhin had encountered in his own time. Though some similarities existed, two thousand years was a lot of time for things to grow and change while he remained in stasis. The man, looking as though he were part beast, greeted Qhin in a strange tongue despite him recognizing it was probably a common tongue to speak with. Still, despite not fully understanding his enemy's words, Qhin could sense the light-heartedness in his greeting and stepped forward to the center of the arena, raising his sword and resting it upon his shoulder as he made his confident strides. Qhin balled his free right-hand into a fist, holding it out towards his combatant. "Qhinua Lonruil ahau! Va ohau ywei!" (I am Qhin of the Lonruil family! It's nice to meet you!) his declaration was proud and full of the vigor that he had taken the field with, but to the man in front of him, the tongue was most likely foreign and alien.
"Ayuayun; good fight!" Though he still spoke with great pride, his voice was clearly as soft as his frame, despite his love for the sport of battle. Though he'd tried to greet his competitor with a language that would be familiar to him, it had mixed with his own Irizan tongue, making a nonsensical phrase, despite what he had believed he'd said. Still, much as he understood the act of waving, he was certain his enemy would understand "good fight" as a show of good sportsmanship befitting the king. Despite the shine in his eyes and the light-heartedness of his tone, the sheet of steel he carried was no joke, and it would be far from friendly to taste said steel. All the more reason to properly greet his foe before their fight began; that there may be no hard feelings before or after the fighting, and that they might know each other as warriors before the fight. "Zinynu! Irizan tradition first, nh?" While he had the time, he would've liked to greet him as was expected of all Irizan people interacting with outsiders.
Despite being there simply as a training exercise for his body, he would always, first and foremost, represent his people. Though history would regard him as the "King of Radiant Ruin" and his kingdom and legacy as something else, he would always do his duty as a royal and show everybody the value behind his culture. One that they had written about, yet could not fully understand without a true Irizan to show them what they were all about. In his right hand, crystals began to form, and though he idly shifted the shape numerous times, he did nothing with it as he waited for his enemy's either approval or denial of being greeted the Irizan way. Despite having no ill intentions, Qhin already made peace with the fact his opponent may deny him, as the times had changed and his culture had become archaic...a history lesson to the masses, even. To that end, he couldn't be slighted if people found him odd, or refused to partake in traditions he'd long held dear. The only cure for that was to rebuild his kingdom greater than it ever was before.
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OOC: ~
Where he is: The Coliseum
Who he's with: Fanthrall |
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 2:18 pm
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FANTHRALL MURES
The language on the tongue of his challenger was foreign; far from anything he'd ever heard and likely something he'd not hear again. The world was big and broad, the chances of hearing and learning it all were low. The more concerning part was the ease with which the stranger moved his weapon and the way he stepped forward-- wait, was it a he. Smelled like a he. Could have been a she-- Fanthrall had more relevant things running through his mind, either way. Whatever the person had tried to tell him, stretching out their fist and moving closer had completely been missed. Fanthrall didn't move where he was, he stood his ground and studied the person across, measured his doubting gaze over their form, and made note he'd seen smaller things kill much bigger things than he. Then, he was provided with the realization that the person did speak the common tongue as well and he nodded, had the courtesy to bow his head in response. "Good, yes." The less of his blood ended up on the arena, the better it would be.
Fanthrall shifted on his feet, planted his boots strong against the ground and cocked his head, suspicious only briefly of whatever went through his opponents head. Irizan tradition? Must have been a race he'd not been made familiar with but-- what better time to make new friends than in the preparation for battle. Exactly how he'd made the last of them; if he could consider any of them friends at all. Peculiar acquaintances he'd expect to have left behind after the parting of their ways. "Re--zan?" Fanthrall inquired, hardly a person to have been taught things of the past, if they'd not been tied tight to his own tribe. Whatever this one was on about, he didn't know but again, his trusting nature swept him away and a grin spread on his face. After all, none had declared the battle to have started yet.
"Re-- thing tradition. Yes." Fanthrall confirmed, nodding his head just once, his gaze flickering between the crystals forming in the male's hand and the rest of his stance. Fascinating powers those were but he did have his own tricks up his sleeve just the same, did he not. Illusions and games; and the land beneath the arena was fertile enough, he would know; he could feel it, if he reached in just deep enough with the Kinetic. "What is tradition? Greet? Talk? Dance-- we no dance, Fanthrall bad. We throw shiny rocks?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 5:46 pm
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Posted: Sun Jan 22, 2017 12:16 pm
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[[Sword of the Patriot]]
Though he'd expected to be able to greet his opponent with the proper respect he deserved, their meeting came to an end when the announcement of battle was made. Qhin sighed, closing his hand and causing the crystal formation to vanish along with it, an apologetic look on his face as the fat man spoke. "Skrathjaw". It wasn't a word that Qhin had heard used in his time, so he wasn't certain what kind of creature they would be facing. The small king watched the beasts with a hint of interest in his eye, but judging them physically, they were no match for Irizan strength or swordsmanship. Wild and unfocused beasts were little more than food for his race, and they would be no different, as despite needing to be restrained by twelve men, the proud king stood as equal or greater than them all. He brandished his sword, pointing it straight at Fanthrall as the strange creatures approached, at least intending on honoring him by showing his intention to fight before making his attack.
The beasts were fast. Faster than Qhin envisioned them, and yet, their speed would serve as an effective weapon. One charged him from the rear, and though he would've loved to face it down, he turned his back on the being, a sweeping motion of his free hand raising a crystal formation through the sand that curved at the top. Qhin leapt onto the structure, the great blade he carried dragging its tip through the sands of the arena as the Skrathjaw impacted the formation, not only ramming it, but moving it without losing a step. The crystals did not fracture, so he had no cause to worry, instead using the ferocity of the beast to close the distance more quickly than he'd be capable of on his own. "Entyn!" (Extend!) That simple word was enough, extending the top lip of the colorless crystals out further, allowing him to cut even more distance between himself and his opponent in seconds, and allowing him to attack from a distance with ease thanks to his blade's length.
It was an odd way of approaching battle, but he could utilize the strengths of others that he himself didn't possess, as most kings were prone to do. The most effort he had to put it was keeping his hand on the ledge of his formation while taking a grand sweep with his blade. His strength effortlessly blasted dust and sand from the ground, as he arced his swing from below and raised it diagonally, turned on its flat that it might create more of a disturbance as well as not fatally wound his opponent. There were the remaining monsters to worry about as they did battle, but there would only be a grand total of three, and if worst came to worse, they would have to be dispatched when they no longer served as a viable strategy to use against Fanthrall. Thinking so far ahead excited him almost as much as the battle itself, the glint in his eyes from his confident attack revealing his love of the conflict. Truly, it was just as though he were a child again.
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OOC: Sorry for the delay. Here we go! This is post number [ONE]
Where he is: The Coliseum
Who he's with: Fanthrall |
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Posted: Mon Jan 23, 2017 9:11 am
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FANTHRALL MURES
Interruptions were unwelcome; especially when they were as loud as this one; ringing in his ears, drawing his expression into a bitter disapproval. Entertaining, sure, but this tournament was also proving to be a headache of the worst kind. The show of beasts undoubtedly bred in the filthiest, darkest burrows hidden in the Skaglands only settled his displeasure. Not one, nor two, but four opponents to concern himself with; and his thoughts drifted, judging eyes narrowing on the Skrathjaws and the chains that held them. He knew; he didn't have the strength of a dozen to hold one down but he could definitely make use of them, rather than immediately falling for plan B-- which would have likely meant running around until his opponents tired.
Then, there was no time left to plan, and his opponent was proving to be much more of a hassle than he'd imagined as well. Distracted by a Skrathjaw lounging itself in his direction, undoubtedly ready to tear him apart; he'd nearly missed the grand display of power his opponent put forth, before he was already there. Within a split second, thoughts were formed into action and Fanthrall didn't move; baited himself a Skrathjaw so near he could almost smell its vile breath, just barely managing to duck out of its arms, by default putting himself closer to the edge of the blade coming down at him. Dust danced in a cloud, and the damned thing nearly drew blood as it took down a horn on Fanthrall's head, knocking him much closer to the ground than intended.
Not allowing himself be bothered, nor the time to mourn the loss of a lock of hair along with the horn, he rolled out of the way of the Skrathjaw then, grasped the fallen horn and pulled at the chains hanging from the beast, using the momentum to get back on his feet. There were weaknesses in any beast, and whilst he'd not witnessed one such as this, the spine was always a fragile spot. It was where he slammed his broken horn; straight in the middle, the beast drawing an ear-ringing howl and launching itself forward, away from him whilst clawing at its back, leaving Fanthrall the chance to duck away and make a run for a safer-seeming distance.
The horn upon his head; the crown always there, was mending itself once more; and he needed it complete to provide his own attack but it didn't stop him from ending his run in a spiral; drawing forth the Kinetic to taunt his opponent and the beasts with a ripple of copies. Illusions dancing across the arena, identical to him, other than their clear lack of any physical form. Something to keep the Skrathjaws busy; and hopefully aim turn them against one another, if he managed to focus enough to place one right. If he didn't; then it was just another waste of power but he required time to assess the man he was meant to fight.
OOC:Post #1. |
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Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2017 10:28 am
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FANTHRALL MURES
Intense, swift and harsh was the only way to describe the match. Fanthrall danced around between his copies; first briefly managing to confuse the Skrathjaws and his opponent but the latter appeared to catch on all too swiftly, pinpointing him among the illusions, which had led Fanthrall to up his game. Blood was drawn here and there; wounds littered the chimera's body and the Skrathjaws complicated all too much. Between the two of them, the beasts were mowed down and once more Fanthrall stood as the main target, complicating his situation even more. The illusions faded; the man gathered himself to be out the way of the massive blade and drew upon his strength to pull forth the roots from the land and attempt to hold back his opponent.
Failed attempt.
His heart fell in his chest; skipped a desperate beat, and he lounged himself to the side, away from the coming attacks; just barely finding himself out the way of a stampeding Skrathjaw aiming straight at his opponent now. He rolled upon the ground; howling when sand and shards of broken crystals ended in his wounds. Scrambling up on his feet, he limped, nearly stumbled and shifted into a clumsy dance, drawing forth more power. Futile, it appeared for a moment, the horns upon his head buzzing with energy but he refused to accept simple defeat.
Refusal was on his mind when he launched the attack, catching the Skrathjaw on the way... and turning back to run for his life from the bloodied beast.
That was the story of how Fanthrall got his first victory, drawing the attention from his defeated opponent and half-running, half-limping across the arena, whilst screaming filthy curses at the Skrathjaw chasing him. He made it just barely; slamming the bars of the gate shut behind him and snarling between bloody teeth at the beast.
OOC:Exit post. |
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2017 11:59 pm
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Third match:
120Damian120 (Riyak) vs. Johnny HellKat (Araxie)
Victor: Riyak (through forfeit)
The ground of the Arena rumbled as if it had come to life; edges cracking and the battle ground dropping with a harsh thud as slender fingers pressed down a lever. System designed merely to wash the blood and guts off the arena was becoming a part of a grand master plan designed to horrify and excite. Water, knee-high at most, flooded the arena and a woman waded through it with slow, elegant steps. Dressed in shimmering gold, one might have missed the mangled scars of an amputated arm poking out from her flowing gown; or the black ink-like substance turning the water more into sticky tar than liquid wherever it touched her skin. "Sweet-sweet pets of mine, I greet you to the third round of the Coliseum Tournament!" The woman spoke as a siren, her voice carrying sweet, creeping into the heads of the onlookers, spreading her bittersweet madness and feeding the excited roar of the crowd. She giggled, dancing through the water, the ominous black swirls certain to slow down anyone caught in them spreading as wildfire. Plates of hard marble large enough to stand on yet slick with the substance and water rose from the ground, floating upon the surface of the water and creating a makeshift pathway often too far to cross to the next without stepping down.
"We shall have a terrifying lycanoid face a sweet but ruthless water nymph today-- Ah, I'm giddy with excitement, aren't you?!" Her laughter rang louder than the cheers of the crowd, her only hand raised from a curvy hip to silence the greedy lot. "I have a special treat for them," she sang, voice slowly crescending into an inviting song, and the water came to life. Two dozens of slithering eel-like creatures, half covered in armored sleeves of gold, half in silver, swam around her, leech-like jaws equipped with sharp rows of teeth and sparks of electricity bringing bright flashes of light in the dark of the water she'd touched seemingly unaffected by its sticky qualities. "Morphangills! Don't you just love these precious creatures? How sweet are their kisses; how tender their embraces!" The woman reached down to feel over the scaled heads of one or two, affectionately nuzzling closer to her-- hardly the treatment that would be presented to anyone other than their master undoubtedly. "I need a volunteer to say hi to my sweethearts-- anyone?!" She inquired, batting softly curled lashes over white, eerie eyes as if she were making the sweetest request and as expected, the Baroness received what she desired. One of many with eager cheers, leaped from the closest seat into the water only to be torn apart by the vicious Morphangills in the span of minutes. The sound of the noble lady's gleeful laughter raised in a maddened crescendo and muted his screams. She made no haste with looking away albeit appeared bored once the shouts silenced. "Well then-- without further delay!" she started, lush painted lips curling into a sweet smile as she retreated from the arena. "I give you Riyak and Araxie!"
[[In your posts, please feel free to take full control of the Morphangills. Pay in mind that their armor, fully of gold or silver is soft and penetrable but their fangs are not and the jolts of electricity produced, when combined, can be quite the hassle. The black tar-like substance is covering at least half of the arena - step cautiously and have fun!]]
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Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2017 9:39 pm
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Riyak Silver
While Roxi managed to pull Riyak out of the city, as well as calm him down a little, her words combined with the silver cross Lyndis gave him were enough to bring him back from the edge. Yet with no warning what so ever the two were called back to the city, paged to come to the coliseum. Riyak separated from Roxi, though he promised to keep care of himself before leaving. Riyak soon found where he was to be and was told that he was to participate in a battle. Riyak sighed a little, participating in a battle so soon after coming back from going berserk, Riyak figured he may just forfeit, he had now desire to fight right now, though if it were just a normal fight, he figured perhaps he'd put on a little bit of a show before conceding defeat. Slowly he walked towards a large gate, in doing so another large gate closed behind him. He took little note of that before looking at the arena before him "Aquatic, that shouldn't be too much of a problem" Riyak muttered to himself before his body quivered, he could feel gold, lots of gold. Riyak gripped the cross Lyndis gave him as he tried to back out of the arena, however the gate behind him was already closed. Riyak began smashing on the gate to get out, he couldn't go in to the arena with that amount of gold out there, he'd be under control in no time. "LET ME OUT! I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!" Riyak said as he smashed against the bars attracting the nearby guards. "look guys I can't be in here I can't explain but its urgent please let me out" Riyak said causing the two men on the other side to laugh "what lose your nerve? don't be a wuss get out there mate" Riyak's eyes faded to red for a moment as he grabbed the bars of the gate and began pulling them apart "I said LET ME OUT!" Riyak said causing the two to jump back a little before one through a metallic object at Riyak. Immediately his head felt like it was going to split apart from a mere touch, yet it did nothing to quell his losing control. "What the heck is that!" Riyak said as he stumbled backwards from the object "I know a little about your kind and if you want the pain to stop I suggest you enter the arena" Riyak backed up further. It was true that he didn't know if other metals effected him, though he had a fairly good grasp of what was and wasn't harmful, but he had no way of ever even realizing that there would be one that made him experience such pain. Reluctantly he walked into the arena, towards the gold, as the gate rose. "Please, whomever is out there, please let me not kill them" When Riyak stepped out into the arena his heart sank as he heard the announcer and saw his opponent, it was Roxi.
Riyak tried to turn around again, but it was too late, he felt the golds influence on him, even as he gripped Lydis's cross tightly, to the point where his hands were bleeding, it was no use, Riyak was no longer in control. Riyak fell to one knee as the changes began, it was visible that he was struggling but it was just too late "I am sorry Roxi...' He said before covering his eyes with his palms. His eyes turned a blood red and his general muscle mass increased, while his canine teeth elongated into sharpened fangs. Slowly Riyak rose to his feet, tossing the silver cross in his hands into the liquid around him in the process. He felt several minds brushing his own, none were aware of their control, it was doubtful that those holding the power over Riyak could even comprehend what Riyak was, yet the thoughts of the creatures were all that was needed to control Riyak and they all had one thought, one order for Riyak "Varl..." Riyak said, a word that he had uttered not too long ago, one that in its entirety meant KILL.
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Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 7:53 pm
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(OOC: Alright. I am without internet until further notice and posting via very stupid smartphone, so apologies, but no frufru layouts.)
Araxie had no more gotten out of the city before she was beckoned back in. Apparently it was time for her battle in the arena. She found herself standing in the shadow of the closed arena gate, silently sending up a prayer to her ancestors for the safety of all contestants and for her strength to last.
Slowly, the gates opened and the smell of water hit her. She smiled as her prayers were answered. Liquid stamina. Her eyes and tattoos began to glow brighter than ever in its presence. Feeling her own energy grow, she took in the rest of the arena. Her brow furrowed at the eels. It seemed their armor was mainly for show...
Her thoughts were distracted by the loud churning gears of her opponent's gate rising. Her smile quickly faded as she saw Riyak step from the shadows and now the eel's armor made sense. Horror flashed across her face as she realized just how much gold was here and how quickly Riyak was already turning.
With a sad grimace, she took a deep breath and began drawing mana. Roxi didn't expect to have to fight Riyak again so soon, but alas, it seemed destined to be. With a small bow of her head, she stepped forward onto the marble slab.
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Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 9:08 pm
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Riyak Silver
Riyak stood in place for a moment as her heard the thoughts of all the eels around him, each one desired the same thing, it was clear to him what his next move was now, killing the one infront of him was what he was supposed to do. Slowly Riyak walked forwards on to the marble slab. His very movements seemed inhumane as he more ambled than anything else his movements were stiff, that was until he stood across the slab from his opponent. Roxi's tattoo's were glowing ever so bright, Riyak could sense her power building, that was when Riyak decided to respond by gathering up his own power. Riyak's aura flared to life all the power he could muster came fourth. The slab he stood on rumbled as he brought fourth his aura, cracks even formed at his feet before his power was restrained by the chains that were supposed to keep him in check these chains soon became visible, but unlike before one more was missing, Riyak was no longer bound by the neck, that chain had broken just before he entered the arena KILL... CONSUME... KILL... those were the thoughts that flooded Riyak's mind, now it was time to carryout his master's will. The chains soon faded "VARL!" Riyak yelled before he gripped his sword and in an instant he dragged it along the marble cutting through it in the process, after which he brought his sword upwards creating a rising slash imbued with his aura. As Riyak finished his slash the aura imbued within the blade carried on forwards almost like a shockwave tearing up the slab as it gunned towards Roxi. While the attack was not the most difficult to dodge it wasn't the real threat. Riyak suddenly launched forwards towards his prey, once again he imbued his aura through his blade which tore up the marble as he ran forwards. Riyak's eyes contained pure malice, nothing else was there, Riyak's old self had be completely swallowed by this beast Riyak had become a monster. As Riyak reached Roxi he brought his sword up above his head "Ka'to vare kou!" Riyak yelled in his own language, before bringing his sword that he had imbued down at Roxi in an attempt to cleave her in half
((OOC: 2/10))
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