Zone B -- Forest

[Enel]

I roll up into the safehouse, and there’s only one other guy. Grimdark McCoy. He sneers at me most grimdarkly and gives a speech about not caring who I am. I just stare-open mouthed as his leather coat – I shit you not – whips past me.

“Well that was weird,” I observe aloud. It occurs to me to take a snapshot of him as he walks away and upload it to twitter.

[float=left][/float]

GodEnel
Check out this picture I took of one of my ‘competition’. Anyone willing to bet he’s got a tragic past?

[float=left][/float]

GodEnel
Do you think he bleaches his hair white, or is it the result of a traumatic experience? Dead girlfriend, maybe?

The responses pour in. Some of them nice. Some of them …

“’Ey, what the fuck?!”

Some people are telling me I’m not a God?!

I growl and start to type furiously.

[float=left][/float]

GodEnel
@Assholes Hey, assholes, want to come and say that shit to my face? When the new world comes, you’re going to be pig fertilizer.

I sneer and hit ‘send’. Cocky shits, hiding behind their computers. Well, the world isn’t infinite. I will track them down and kill them. Maybe after this competition is over.

I sip the water before cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders, still uncomfortably aware of the metal collar. “Welp,” I say aloud. “Better get back to it, then.”

Leaving SH B, going to B14

[Little Ghost]

Little Ghost was demolishing his fiftieth bowl of eastern cuisine (this dish being called 'tonkatsudon' for some strange reason) when the PA system in Syntech Station 17's restaurateur section changed from the gentle musics preferred by the various individual establishments into a sharp BWAP-BWAAAP, BWAP-BWAAAP, BWAP-BWAAAP! Little Ghost winced at the extremely loud noise from the Public Announcement system and quickly glanced around for the source of the noise, veritably inhaling the remaining food in the extra-extra-verily large bowl of tonkatsudon. He had become a bit of an attraction as the people in the restaurant had glanced with no small amounts of curiosity. Comments on whether or not Little Ghost was the second coming of Kirby had been by at least six separate staffers here. Not that Little Ghost knew who this Kirby creature was.

"Excuse me, contestant Little Ghost?" a voice asked from the door into this section of the restaurants. Ah, another one of the attendant-bugs that so busily scuttled through this place. Little Ghost slid down from the barstool, grabbing five large skewers of teriyaki chicken from one of the otherwise untouched plates. It had been put on the counter just before the PA system decided that the world would be better if everyone was deaf. And given that Little Ghost was mute it wouldn't have made that much a difference in communicating, at least not from his side. "If you would follow me, please. The tournament is starting soon and we must have you at the proper location in time." Little Ghost nodded in understanding, nothing could rightly proceed without failure if the proper bugs were not where they were supposed to be. The attendant-bug swiftly turned around and left the way it came, Little Ghost following as quickly as his little legs could walk. This attendant-bug had a lot of really thin and long antennae trailing down from the head and over its back. At least these looked well cared for. "Right through here, mister Ghost. Take the bag and then enter the pod at the centre of the room." Simple and clear-cut instructions, this was an efficient attendant-bug!

As Little Ghost entered the pod, his eyes fell on the obvious handlebars. Ok, so should he strap in or something? Maybe this was a weird contraption meant to emulate riding the Stagways? Little Ghost's final view of Syntech Station 17 before he found himself in a rainforest was that this attendant-bug too had those two bulbous shapes on her thorax.


[B7]


The heat and humidity was like running face first into a wall. Slightly confused at his surroundings, Little Ghost did then only logical thing and tried to ascertain his location. The sounds of the rainforest around him was familiar, like that of the Greenpath. The sound of something buzzing in his bag briefly made Little Ghost confused, but when the sound of whatever contraption in his bag was at work was picked up by the creatures of the rainforest around him, a strange creature with what looked like a thick and flexible proboscis looked up from the undergrowth. The movement immediately drew Little Ghost's gaze, causing him to lock eyes with a very strange creature. Little Ghost and the tapir stood there, still and eyes locked in a stare of pure and unadulterated confusion. The rumble of Little Ghost's newly awakened, and quite frankly insatiable, appetite caused the herbivore to twitch and then bolt away through the forest in panic. The creature looked like nothing Little Ghost had ever seen before, but if it feared him perhaps it would make good eats? There was only one way to find out, and much like The Hunter would have rumbled with glee at this sight, Little Ghost had only one thought in mind.

THE HUNT WAS ON!

[Dust]

Dust was a admittedly a impressed with Dawn's plan, and a tad bit surprised by it; though he couldn't understand why. You tended to come to terms with the idea that someone using the kanji for 'snow' as translation for a nickname they firmly insisted meant such and even went into detail of that names as 'cold' and 'when taken lightly can be deadly' would come up with some pretty interesting yet 'bitter' plans for their fights. Perhaps it would surprise people to also know that he approved of this plan. Not just because it was her, because he was just like that at some point in his life. He still saw the value of this type of plan. That neither disturbed nor comforted him, he simply found himself neutral. "I say it's logical." He said, with his signature smile. It was as gentle as the breeze that lifted strands of her hair.

As Takezo fished out his tablet, Dust did the same, curious to what it was doing. But without much training in the art of technology he managed to figure it out. The towering man read the words fully but he thinks the demon in disguise skimmed through. The man leading them was ecstatic, gleeful, and just thrilled to find out that there was a drop heading near by their decided destination. Between this and the spark of delight that Dawn had ignited with her plan, the man before them could not contain himself. And it was quickly apparently contagious.

Very quickly they ran almost very near to the mud puddle that had Dawn's face print neatly preserved, but they could not stop and take pictures. They had a mission, and they moving like a pack of wolves towards their prize. It sent a shiver though him, it brought to surface years of suppression had kept bound down. His heart raced, and he let out a laugh as his bare feet dug into the ground and carried him even further. The hunt was on, and the wolf inside him was running free for the first time. Something either very dangerous was surfacing, or something very epic.

B14 to B12

[Dawnika Snow]

The Vigilante hurried along the forest trees behind her allies, still watching their back for anyone who might try to trail them on a similar pretense to snag their item drop or kill them trying. The three moved as fast ass possible, trudging through wet mud and thick brush of greenry standing in their way of the artefact they sought. The vigilante kept her tablet out for the simplicity of being their guide through the forest.

"Keep heading north through the brush! If we hurry we can be the first ones to access the area where the drop is going to land, according to Karl Jak's updates on the competition that is!" She yelled through a hurried voice that was running out of stamina. "I expect we should be ready to fight whether we arrive first or jump into a battle that is ongoing."

Dawn looked down at the ground where she had spawned into the island and scoffed at the sight of her imprint still being preserved. She stepped on the face make and rubbed the mud clean of her face mask. Though, they had not the time to worry about her troubles when she first smacked into that dirt. She really had a knack for falling out of the sky.

Through the heavy brush, they treaded. Dawn had her rifle ready, as they were beginning to approach the drop down location. They were not far now, which only made her adrenaline kick in more. She knew they would not be the only ones pushing their way towards this artefact, and she was ready to get to the fighting by now.

"Were coming close, we can't access the area we need to from here but if we keep moving north, we'll be directly east of the drop area. Let's move quickly." She says, turning around once more to check their backs, thankfully, they were not being followed.

Moving from area B12 to area B10 with Shinmen and Dust leading the way.

[Oleander]

He ran past the face imprint without noticing it. Before their handy tech-savy escort was barking directions, he was trying to remember a foggy map he had only glimpsed at once or twice. Thankfully, she seemed to know what she was doing. Takezo trusted her directions and instead focused more on blazing the trail.

By this point in their journey, he had drawn his sword and was hacking branches and bushes alike to aid in their swift speed. Those that followed the handy swordsman would have it rather easy, with no flicking of rogue branches smacking them in the face. The sharp edge of his sword was useful for something besides cutting down living things? Surprise, surprise.

When Dawn told him to turn, he did so. A glance upwards through the trees, he guessed they were headed east, though through the overcast it was hard to tell. From what he could remember of the map, they should be getting pretty close of the woman told him to turn so sharp. As he predicted, Dawn was correct. The trees eventually thinned as they approached a clearing. The Lowlands was ahead, and so was their targeted location.

"Miss Yuki, Dust, if either of you find the relic before I... take it and find a suitable position. I will stay in the opening, to bring in our prey." His smirk returned. He was breathing hard now, and even his refined breath control did not help. They had run so far to achieve this amount of distance in such a short time span. Takezo could go for a bite. If he was lucky, they would be the first and he could see what those rations tasted like.

"Before we arrive... are we prepared to fight anyone that challenges us?" He glanced over his shoulder to the rest of the "pack." The pair nodded, reserving breath for running. Takezo had the slight advantage at keeping this pace - this was practically his life, after all. Running towards his goal, full speed, no slowing down, no care in the world, just one foot after the other as fast as they would fall. "Good. And if I am the first to die, you are free to laugh at my foolish defeat."

B10 to A13

[Tearen Wover]

Tearen watched with a bemused grin as Tony slithered off into the tree line, heading for the Megacity. It occurred to him that he would be traveling along the same path that Malon would be arriving from, but Tearen trusted the girl to keep her head down for the time being. With that, the Shadow took it upon himself to climb on top of the logging truck that Redgrave had been perched on and make himself as visible as possible. There he sat, cross-legged, for a few more hours before he heard a distant noise to the south. There was the girl, picking her way out of the scrub at the edge of the cleared land. Her dark clothes hid her well among the gloom of the forest, but it was impossible to hide in this open area. The ex-enigma hailed Malon on her divination sphere.

Malon, I see you. I'm on top of a blue brush rig. Tearen said through his cerebral implant.

"On top of a what?" Malon responded, looking around all the same. Tearen held up an arm and waved at her. He could feel when her eyes locked on to his conspicuous silhouette against the platinum sky.

"Oh, that thing I guess. Okay, give me a minute! You can uh...get down if you want." the sly Prime responded, beginning to hustle towards Tearen's position. She found it odd that Tearen could be so self-confident as to make himself completely vulnerable to any sort of ranged or sneak attack. It either spoke to how powerful her ally was, or, how foolish he could be. As long as he didn't make a habit of it, she supposed. In due time, the two Primes had reunited and took a moment to catch up on things.

"Have you seen anyone so far?" Tearen asked her as she jogged up to him. The agrarian girl was hardly out of breath, even after scrambling over a few acres of fallen lumber.

"No, not entirely. Peeks and glimpses. You?"

Tearen nodded.

"Yeah, I met the contestant named Tony Redgrave. Seemed level-headed but I don't think it would take much to provoke him." Tearen said casually, levitating his tablet around for Malon to see. The girl's eyes widened ever so slightly, but she steeled herself. This was hardly the time to be making a fuss about other peoples' abilities. She took note of the vigilante's appearance.

"So what now?" she asked, referring to her own map. She was starting to get the hang of this tablet thing. She actually kind of liked it, despite being wholly alien. She quirked an eyebrow when the device made a small 'pip'. Tearen noticed it as well; apparently there would be a collection drop in the subzone directly east of their current position.

"Now we play the game." Tearen said, closing the tablet down and tucking it back into his pack. He needed as many cameras on him as possible any time he had an opportunity to make a ruckus about Diablo and the Underverse. On a whim, the ex-enigma also removed his suit jacket, tucking it into his bag. For a moment, his back was turned to Malon, and she cried a sharp yelp. Tearen whipped around.

"What?! What is it?" the elder Prime said, calling his telekinetic prowess to the fore of his mind. Malon had he hands pressed to her mouth, and shook her head slightly.

"What happened to your back?" she muttered through clutched fingers. Tearen tilted his head.

"What?"

He withdrew his tablet once again, and mentally manipulated it so as to take a photo of his flank. There were myriad bloodstains all over the fabric of his button-down shirt. Not large, but dozens of blots here and there. His heart sank, but he couldn't get distracted right now.

"...nothing to worry about right now. It's...a condition. For now we need to make it to that drop point." the psychic said in a hushed tone, finishing the packing of his items and striding off to the east without further comment...

Tearen allied with Malon.
Tearen and Malon moved from B15 to B7

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage watched the man leave, laughing in the manner of one who was clearly insane, heading in the direction the Sage himself had just come from. A close call there. He had no interest in battling psychotics, Not that I’ll likely have a choice in the matter, I’ve chosen the wrong competition for much in the way of sane rationale. He thought grimly. The Sage quickly ate a small meal, waiting for word of his next objective.

He rested in the abandoned saw mill for a little more than an hour, after briefly satisfying himself that Karl had not bothered to hide any particular secrets in the location. It seemed that the former residents of the island had just left the operation entirely. The Sage wondered whether they had been given a choice in the matter. Just where did you get this island, Karl?

The data pad pinged to life as the locations of new artifacts was announced to the contestants. The Sage glanced over the locations it marked. Going towards one of the new drop points this early in the event would be extremely risky. It was soon enough that the overzealous members of the cast would likely be out on the hunt. But… He thought with a sigh, as he stood up and prepared for another dash across the barren ground, without risk, there is little reason for the event. He would at least be heading towards the shelter of the forest this time.

With a newfound determination, the Sage set off once more across the barren ground. The air was growing sticky, and the Sage moved from cover to cover with an erratic pace. For the most part, the contestants were staying quiet, and those he had seemed did not seem inclined to start the first conflict. That would be changing soon, he was sure of it. For now though, he was not interested in being the first to get caught in the open.

moving Safehouse B to B15

[Enel]

It seems I’ve cleared the rainforest. Not that it’s any good for my pants-legs, which are now two oversized buckets filled with crotch sweat. Even Gods aren’t immune to perspiration.

I’ve got to admit, this island is beautiful. Over the hills to my right are picturesque mountains. Ahead looms a gigantic city of stone and metal. Beneath my toes, the grass feels good. Natural. It’s been a long time since I simply walked through nature.

I scroll through my Twitter feed. A bunch of people are saying things like “Kill someone already!” or “Is this Big Brother? Zzzz”.

“Listen, twerps,” I say as I walk, knowing that the cameras are watching. “You’re gonna get a show, but you’re gonna have to wait. A God does not rush into battle. He waits for the challengers, and then … dispatches them.”

I spin my staff idly, catching it on my shoulder and then rolling it around my armpit, catching it and twirling. I can’t be too harsh on my followers. They are, after all, only mortal. They do, however, have a sense of impudence that they wouldn’t have dared show in my own lands, with my true power. I pine for the days where I could drop a building-sized beam of electricity on someone’s head from miles away.

That desire gives me a goal, however. It gives me something to focus on. Some part of me wants to admit that this whole Omniverse thing has been a valuable learning experience. A re-learning, of sorts. I’ve always taken my power for granted, and that is only true and right. It is a blasphemy for me to experience this curse. And yet …

I grit my teeth.

It’s making me a better God.

I pause to consider the ramifications of that thought. Could I become greater still? More perfect?

Of course. God can do anything. Even break a paradox.

My spine tingles with electricity. New heights. New greatness.

Oh Omni. You done fucked up when you brought me here. You have no idea.

Moving from B14 to C5

[Simon]

More walking. Leaving the outskirts of the city behind, Dante stepped through the far corner of the logging site, thankfully devoid of rain for the moment. The moisture of the ground and the faint smell of ozone on the air made a clear message that this place remained a deciduous climate. Boots tromped through churned earth and layers of wood shavings, his steps remaining harsh and proud.

Tony kept looking behind him cautiously, unreasonably wary of a possible ambush. He could feel the Hollow mocking and reprimanding the forlorn devil hunter from within, but it only affirmed his resolve to empty his mind. This kind of setback didn't serve Dante well in his history, and there was no reason for such things to change now of all times. For the longest time in his past, the freelance mercenary had a guise of unflappable power to hide his insecurity, doing everything he could to be "cool" and "badass". Now, the Hollow turned that very facade against him, making his childish facade a genuine malice.

Dante needed some genuine confidence in his breast, or else he would have no faith left in himself by the time this was over.

The next time he turned his head, something zipped out of view. It looked small and mobile, like an insect but entirely too large. Confused, the redcoat whipped around to find the source: a hovering object that resembled one of those news broadcast cameras. Right, Tony Redgrave reminded himself, this is a televised competition. People are out there cheering for their favorite contestants.

Perhaps it was high time for Dante to try and make himself a fan favorite.

"Hey! Over here!" The son of Sparda waved down the camera drone, and it seemed to comply after a moment, coming within a range still out of arm's reach. He smirked, hailing an unseen audience, "To everyone out there who doesn't know already: My name is Tony Redgrave, and I'm here for some action. I don't know how much you've seen already so far, but just you wait-"

Tony's hands dove under his coat and pulled free Ebony & Ivory, brandishing them for the retreating lens. "I'm gonna put on a hell of a show."

Moving from B14 to E3.

[The Humble Sage]

He was slightly unnerved by the metal hulks that scattered the cleared-out forest. They seemed to him evocative of great siege engines, abandoned on a battlefield. More and more, he wondered about what had happened to this island’s inhabitants. He picked his way amongst the desolation, still no sign of trouble. It seemed his guess had been correct, and the rainforest was not the current destination for most of the fighters. Or they have already reached the drop point and are simply waiting in ambush… based on the speed that the other targets had been collected, it seemed ill-advised to assume there would be less activity around the newest location.

He reached the edge of the tree line without incident, and the already noticeable heat quickly became oppressive. The air hung heavy as he pushed through a surprisingly dense understory. Even with the tracker he would be hard pressed to find anything or anyone down here. The forests he had patrolled with the wood elves in his youth were far less dense than this, but perhaps it was still better to adopt the same approach.

Scanning his surroundings, the Sage found a suitable trunk and began to climb, abandoning the crowded shrubbery for the tangle of interwoven vines and branches. He could see a little better now at least, though he needed to make sure he wasn’t too visible up here, a fall from this height could easily put him off balance for a sudden fight. He reached what appeared to be the location of the drop, or at least close enough to spot where it would land, it was difficult to be precise with the unfamiliar technology. He scoured the nearby foliage until he found a well-hidden lookout point and settled down. He would wait in the canopy for now, see just who else was planning to stop by for the artifact.

moving B15 to B7, will not initiate a challenge for the drop, just observing for now.

[Gildarts]

"It's heads," Gildarts announced grimly and the pair set off, sailing together like the SS Gillidan.
 
So it turned out Illidan was one heck of a good sprinter. His rather tall height probably didn’t hurt him on that end either, Gildarts was more clumsy, dense with muscle that would propel him forward when pushed, but he was also not used to running with these old and rather rusted joints. It only made sense that the purple-skinned creature was racing ahead, barely remaining in sight as the scenery changed around them.

Nil were the asphalt streets paved and placed together by man’s acrid smelling contraptions, they had been replaced with soft, mossy, well-trodden soil, rooted in with trees sprouting up around them. The evergreen scent filled his senses and Illidan found himself a little more at peace in the forest, where he could aptly sense the lifeforms brimming in all shapes, sizes, and colors. The Gillidan duo had slowed to a hesitantly sluggish pace. It was not that they were fearful about that which lay beyond their sight and the unknown that grew with behind every piece of live or decaying bark, but the pathway curved and swiveled so much so that if they picked up their pace, their faces would surely collide with a tree, or something far more mysterious.
 
"Do you see anything?" Gildarts asked, still nursing his back from Illidan's magical thrust.
 
Tensions were climbing, Illidan didn't sense a thing. They were still in the thick of the area, greenery inclined by a steeper, subtle climb. "I do not," Illidan replied curtly.
 
Illidan had taken it upon himself to lead their way through the forest and the red-haired mage trusted him to do that, Gildarts had never had much of a sense of direction, usually things found him, and it was not the other way around. They'd flipped a coin, and that had sealed their fate. Whatever lay beyond, they would be ready for and face together.
 
A streak of purple smoke would soon fill their sight.
 

Gillidan move C7 to B7.

Gil and Illidan lowkey search for the item dropped that they were informed would drop in this area.

[Karl Jak]

End Day 1 -- Phase 1

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face (B7 Item Drop)
Gildarts & Illidan vs Little Ghost & Sage vs Tearen & Malon

Post order will be:  Gildarts - Malon - Ghost - Illidan - Sage - Tearen

Since Sage was ambiguous about what he wanted to do, he has the option to run away.

Word Limit: 800
Posts Per Player: 2
Time Limit: 20 hours 
Random Elements: On

 

[Gildarts]

The flash of garish metal streaked forward in the insidious form of an axe. It was the pugnacious female among them to strike first, she lunged, viciously propelling herself forward with the strength sourced from her calves as her marauder-themed attire dragged in the momentum behind her.
 
The rush of movement was swift, the arch of the blade had already split the skin of his chest when Gildarts released his charge and with torrential force Malon was pushed back with nowhere for her spine to slam except for the solid wood of a tree. Impacting with a hollow-sounding crunch! mixed with a breath-swept whimper.
 
“So this is your choice?” Tearen’s sinister tone shattered through the soft chirps of birds, “Betrayal?” When Gildarts spoke no words, other than looking with loyalty at his singular ally, the god-mind’s cold-blooded anger quivered eagerly to unleash the true entirety its wrath, “Fine, you’ll regret it, just like in Nippur, this time however, you won’t get any mercy. I tried to warn you, fool.”
 
The menacing fury flowing so forthright proved the consequence of when Gildarts had thrown bark against the umbral being’s weakness. Her. The elven sorcerer watched them chat, taking his time to strike the god-mind with an emerald flame as green as Tearen’s eyes; the tendrils of fire erupted into the tenebrous being when the skull-sized enchantment burst, driving the scalding globe into his chest until his ebony skin was meshed with the very fabric of his suit.
 
Sharp, immediate agony tore through Gildarts’ sculpted back, claws had scraped deeply along the entirety of Gildarts’ spine, hot crimson began to ooze into the soft floor of the forest, trickling as the geyser of blood soaked his back completely, resembling colored paint. The one to blame, a skull-adorned creature, How reminiscent.
 
Another second, Gildarts had turned around to punish he who had dared stick their claws in him yet his eye caught a glimmering bolt of ember shooting at him from the side. Every movement felt so fluid, cause and effect tumbled with the slow roll of the ball of fire that sizzled millimeters from the now charred stubble on the left side of his chin. The bitter scent leaked in his nose while in riposte to this attack, magic welled in the palm of his steel hand, forming a great scythe of argent magic, expanding into a grid of netting and spraying tetrangular slices across Sage’s torso and sleeve.
 
The mage’s movements were refined, calculated, amidst the chaotic blaze. The battles with everything on the line and enemies in every line of sight, were the ones where he truly thrived. Blood and magic surged his veins until he was brimming with pure energy. The swarm of battle surged on, tides and throes mixing together like the perfect ingredients for utter devastation, all he had to do was ring the bell.
 
Catching his eye was a lucent shape from far off. Three-eyed trap! Snapping shut, it released a terrible cacophony of nefarious holy light, one which humbled the man to his knees and bore into the simple mage’s mind, setting it alive with wrathful hellfire. The great Gildarts had fallen, his mind had been engulfed with trihedral shapes from which grew graticulated patterns, delivering forbidden knowledge meant for no living man.
 
Tearen’s form glided like a ghost gaunt with death, he used his kneeling target’s delay to charge his beam which erupted from his clutches and drove straight through Gildarts’ lower abdomen. The laser-heat allowed the mage’s flesh to be instantaneously cauterized but the quarter-sized hole missing from the side of his stomach caused his teeth to puncture his lip, drawing more pain than blood.
 
Gildarts spat the taste of iron-hot crimson from his mouth, allowing another charge to grow in his grasp. He was willing to slop around in the soil, degraded to a sow in order to tackle his oppressor. His charge released at the exact time as Tearen’s and the burden of gravity was cast down on both of their shoulders. A power weighing of the world caused each to double-over, easily crushed like aluminum cans, their shoulders fell as noble steeples, clattering into the rich, oxidized aroma of soil and reaping a dense sound of fallen might as they slammed into the dirt. Gildarts was bashed into it several times and Nealaphh was steadily trying to worm his way out of the steadfast force of the mage’s spell.
 
Two could play on their knees but only one would stand first. Gildarts was quickly free from the prison bars of magic akin to his own and dove straight into the air, jumping several feet overhead before using the weight of his fall, magnified by his own deployed gravity spell to embed his steel fist deep into Tearen’s grounded back.

Word count was 799 via wordcounter.net


Moves used by all:
Malon used: Battleaxe
Gildarts used: Wall+
T1 power up Sp used 1/11 SP -10/11 Remaining
Illidan used Felfire Bolt
Lil ghost used Mantis Claw Token
Humble Sage used: Failed Magic, Gout of Embers!
Gildarts aimed the slicing move “crash” at Humble sage
Tearen used Mind Surge
Tearen used Particle Energy Conversion (beam)
Gildarts used Atlas on Tearen at the same time as
Tearen deploys Gravity Distortion (they kind of do the same thing so I thought it would be SICK to do them together)
“Crushing punch” is Gildarts’ Finale
 

[Malon]

Tearen’s quick thinking saved him from the worst of Gildarts’s punch: while the mage was diving towards him the god-mind prepared to teleport, but was a moment too slow and took a good hit before vanishing from beneath Gildarts and appearing just under a dozen meters away. Had he been smashed into the ground things would’ve gotten ugly though.

Meanwhile Malon shakily pushed herself onto her feet. The leather armor had blocked the worst of the blow... but as she watched Gildarts smashing into the ground where Tearen had been and then rising slowly, menacingly, she shuddered. How powerful was this man? With just one hit he’d sent her flying like nothing.

“Malon, are you okay? Stay away from Gildarts, I’m taking him on myself! And be wary of Illidan!” Tearen yelled. Simultaneously to that another voice spoke: the ever-present Assassin. You’ve observed them well, didn’t you? Now it’s time to retaliate.

“The purple guy? I got him”, Malon replied as she stored the battleaxe into her bag. Her right arm shimmered as if looked at through a body of water until it was a lookalike of Illidan’s own arm after a few moments, with a green flame in the palm that Malon promptly threw at the demon hunter. Surprised to be struck by his own attack he did not dodge it in time and his waist below the left arm was burnt by the Felfire.

“Insolent fool! You dare turn my arts against me?!” he yelled, leaping towards the awaiting Malon with seething anger.


Gildarts and Tearen, on the other hand, were threateningly staring at each other down, as if competing. “We’re here to compete, not to kill, Gildarts”, said Tearen, “Neither of you need to go all-out.”

“And give up a rematch?” scoffed Gildarts. They were focused on each other so much that they nearly missed the Sage’s approach until he threw a bola at each of them. However both were too experienced to be hit by something this simple: Gildarts almost reflexively spun to the side, raised his right hand and casted a net of magic before him that sliced the bola to harmless pieces of metal and rope which clattered against his body. Tearen snagged the projectile in mid-air, spun it around, and tossed it back at its owner who promptly raised his readied cane, allowing the bola to wrap around it harmlessly before plucking it off.

“Master Wover”, the Sage said with a voice as if the three of them were enjoying a cup of tea on a sunny terrace of a Costa del Sol café. “Allow me to help your cause: what better way is there to draw the eyes of our spectators, than with a dramatic betrayal and an ensuing three-way battle?”

Tearen eyed the two of them. “So that’s how it’s going to be...”


Meanwhile Illidan and Malon clashed – the demon hunter brought a pair of green blades down on her, Malon blocked with her sickles though she was pushed back by his strength, before she turned to the side and allowed his own momentum to carry him past her, stumbling two steps. As he was turning around, a whizzing sound drew Malon’s attention and she noticed the incoming small fighter with the white mask, charging at them with its sword-like weapon. Malon’s right-hand sickle morphed into a replica of that same weapon and blocked the blow before she pulled the same trick as she had done to Illidan to put Little Ghost between herself and the purple one. “I’m here too!” a text above the being’s head read, which, strangely, both Malon and Illidan could read at the same time when one should’ve seen it mirrored. A pictogram of someone that’s annoyed also appeared next to the text.

“Out of my way!” Illidan snarled as he found the newcomer to be blocking the way to his target, and tried to shove it aside with the flat side of his left-hand Blade of Azzinoth. What neither Malon nor he had expected though, was for the horned creature to react by spinning around and bringing its weapon down in a diagonal slash, simultaneously pushing Illidan’s weapon away and attempting to cut his arm. Before that could happen though the demon hunter countered the counter with his right-hand Blade, clashing with Little Ghost’s weapon and forcing it in a different direction, so that the Nail only cut the surface of his arm.

“So, I get to sink my blades into you two whelps?” Illidan asked as Little Ghost pulled his weapon from between Illidan’s pair and Malon adjusted her position to have the three of them form a triangle. She gripped the mimicked weapon tighter, concealing the exhaustion that was starting to set in.

791 words according to Wordcounter.net!

Combat log:

-Gildarts finished Crushing Punch (refer to previous post) against Tearen.
-Tearen used Basic Teleportation.
-Malon used Shapeshifting (Right arm turned to Illidan's arm) and Felfire Bolt (acquired via Mimic) against Illidan.

-Sage used Bola Shot twice, once against Tearen and Gildarts respectively.
-Gildarts used Bullets - Disperse! against Sage's Bola Shot.
-Tearen used Telekinesis against Sage's Bola Shot and sent the projectile back.
-Sage used Dueling Cane against Tearen's telekinesis retaliation.

-Illidan produced his Twin Blades of Azzinoth and used them against Malon.
-Malon used Hylian Sickles against Illidan's TBoA.
-Little Ghost used The Pure Nail against Malon.
-Malon used The Pure Nail (acquired via Mimic) against Little Ghost.
-Little Ghost used Grandmaster's Lesson: Perfect Parry against Illidan.
-Illidan used TBoA against Little Ghost.

After confirming this with the player, Gildarts is keeping his T1 Power-Up for the rest of the round (SP: 10/11 => 9/11).

[Karl Jak]

End Phase 2 -- Day 1

Waaaaaaarrrrrrr

[Little Ghost]

One moment he had been chasing that strange proboscis-faced creature that looked to be exceedingly good eats and the next he had found himself embroiled in a dramatic bug-pile of a fight. And not like the ones back in Hallownest where he had been the sole target of everyone around him, which really should be making this easier. The fallen elf's boast made Little Ghost's eyes narrow in annoyance, Empty Void thundering through his body, merging with Useful Soul. The bug began turning to meet this challenge head on, at right angles and with the Pure Nail brandished, light gathering and glowing. A bubble of purest Soul briefly manifested above Little Ghost's head, text clearly outlined as the black of emptiness. Whelp? You made me lose my dinner!

Movement from the side caused him to whip around, the tip of Snake's nail moving like the namesake of its wielder to score a line across Little Ghost's thorax, grave determination like burning embers in her eyes. Desperate twisting and the use of the spurs on his left forearm had saved him from being cored. A tingling down his spine was the realization, the mistake to turn his back on Illidan. Snake's eyes narrowed and the thrust return- The sickle! Instinct honed to a razor's edge kept Little Ghost's head attached to his body. Briefly off balance the step to avoid another line of cold agony put him right in the path of Illidan's approach, one Warglaive of Azzinoth raking for the neck in a rising diagonal as if to furiously cull the chaff. The Pure Nail was moved, awkwardly crossing his arms over his body, and Little Ghost was sent into the air followed by the grind of steel sickle and Nail replica meeting demon forged steel shot through the clearing like a whistle.


The God-Mind known as Tearen Wover had not been idle while his ally faced strange bug and demonic night elf, the Sage's interruption had not been appreciated. A single glowing finger, glowing with an awesome power, communicated his displeasure. "Come now, Master Wover," the Sage replied with a controlled voice, "Is that really necessary?"

The pounding steps of the strongest prime was but a momentary distraction for Tearen, the God-Mind had purposfully left an opening, feeling for the sparks of anger and feeding them through his actions. A quick glance towards Gildarts had the strongest prime narrow his eyes before focusing his gaze further down, he would simply push through whatever trap had been laid this time. Which may not have proven to be the wisest choice. Suddenly his steps increased from rapid pounding to incessant staccato! "Oh, but I must," Tearen finally replied, unleashing the power of his burning finger before swerving around Gildart's charge. It took but a moment for Reynold to realise that he had not been the sole target of that beam, and thus he did his absolute best to leap to the side, a line of agony scorching through his clothes and down his right arm.

Gildarts, in turn, had expected something like this from the God-Mind and chose to violently stop himself with a tree rather than let that beam touch him again. The impact sent a resounding crack through the clearing as ancient tree confronted metal prosthetic and lost, centuries of growth terminated in an instant. The sage rolled to his feet easily enough, using the injured arm was not needed, and conjured a small bolt of frost, sending the coalescing blue light back at Tearen as a thank you for the pain. Gildarts seemed to be of like mind and with a growl his Crash magic manifested with a sweeping motion of his biological arm, ripping up the ground as it tore towards the God-Mind. Unable to get out of the way in time, Tearen chose the lesser of two evils and, with a subsonic rumble, manifested his shield. The bolt of rime splashed against it harmlessly and the wave of Crash! struck both the shield and- A wet slicing sound could be heard as the net-shaped laceration manifested on Tearen's lower legs.


Great wings of ethereal matter unfolded from Little Ghost's back and with a silent scream of rage the bug shot back down to the earth, glowing blade drawn back before he releashed a great slash to carve the ground, causing both Malon and Illidan to step aside with haste, weapons raised to block and still receive small lacerations from the glowing slash. And once again they were back to where they had started, Malon and Illidan on either side with the much shorter Little Ghost in the middle. They readied their blades.

Hooh-kay then, first ever combat post here. 798 words according to the on site word calculator.

Post Start

Malon is keeping the Pure Nail and using it in conjunction with a sickle.
Little Ghost charges his Nail Arts: Great Strike.
Little Ghost was hit for leaving Malon an opening.
Illidan is still using his Warglaives, why waste more power on the chaff?
Little Ghost was punted into the air because Illidan has no time for this shit.
Illidan and Malon clashes.

[scene break]

Tearen is not amused, charges Particle Conversion Beam.
Gildarts capitalizes and charges, building up Crash! for a point-blank hit.
Tearen unleashes his burning finger at Humble Sage.
The Sage dodge rolls and is not cored, charges Dash of Frost-Rime.
Tearen uses Temporal Jaunt to try and make Gildarts run into the beam.
Gildarts NOPEs that and destroys an ancient tree by dodging into it metal fist first before casting his Crash! at Tearen from a longer distance away.
Humble Sage casts his Dash of Frost-Rime at Tearen.
Tearen blocks the Frost-Rime and mostly blocks the Crash! by using his Warp Burst defensively.

[scene break]

Little Ghost finishes charging Nail Arts: Great Strike.
Little Ghost uses Monarch Wings to dash to the ground from mid-air, unleashing the Great Strike as a slash at both Illidan and Malon as he does so.

Post End

#PreparingForNextFlusterCluck

[Illidan Stormrage]

What was this nonsense? Illidan Stormrage, master sorcerer and conquerer of demons, demoted to fighting a bandana-clad woman and a mute bug? Why was he stuck with babysitting while Gildarts tackled the challenge of some three-eyed wizard? Their alliance hadn't discussed battles and the equality in which the participants were divided, but surely the human should have had the presence of mind to notice the inferior opponents heaped on the night elf and taken them himself?
 
Illidan spat. Ungrateful.
 
He turned his attention back to the battle. Despite their underwhelming appearances, both the ginger-haired girl and the horned beetle had yet to have fallen to Illidan and his demon forged warglaives. He grunted, frustrated with his pride. He knew there was a possibility of encountering other combatants who did not reveal their true strength aesthetically, whether willingly or not. He had to stop playing around, and stop underestimating them.
 
Small cuts lined his skin from the mute bug's last sweeping attack. A patch of burned skin on his arm reminded him of the human's remarkable ability to return his own spell back at him. His thoughts submerged in rage, an indignant belief in his own infallibility. His swift moment of clarity shattered. Fingers tightened around the hand guards of his weapons.
 
"Enough!" Illidan roared, leaping forward as his blades dragged behind him. "You will bow down to me or you will wish you had!"
 
The horned insectoid came into sight first, so Illidan struck. His foe wielded his cone-shaped sword with practised fluidity, and their blades clashed in a spray of sparks. Stormrage swung again, and the bug-man moved sloppily, struggling to match the night elf's speed. Illidan's next attack was parried, though clumsily, hastily, and the insectoid fell off balance. Seeing the opening, Illidan kicked the small fighter in the chest, sending him sprawling.
 
The crunching of grass pricked Illidan's long ears and he spun as two sickles lunged for his throat. The curved steel clang noisily in the uneven, ornate edge of Illidan's warglaives, and he found himself face-to-face with the human. He felt her arms rocking against their collision, and he couldn't easily dislodge her.
 
"You're rather cowardly, sneaking up on an opponent like that," Illidan sneered. "Perhaps you'd like to redeem yourself by attacking me head-on?"
 
The night elf shoved the human woman backwards. She stumbled a few steps, repositioned her fingers around the sickle handles, and charged, taking the bait.
 
Illidan frowned. She moved with a swiftness he wasn't anticipating; while he could match it, he was concerned that she may have been quicker. In any case, he only needed a few seconds.
 
The air rippled around the night elf's hands as the bandana-clad adversary closed in. As she reached the moment of attack, where her stability would be unguarded for a split second, he cast his Push spell. At the same moment, a sharp sting skirted across his back, stealing his focus as pain bloomed in a thin line. The bug creature skimmed into vision, arm extended with his toothpick sword, a light blemishing of blood along its edge.
 
The telekinetic energy redirected almost instinctively, slamming into the blade-wielding bug-man. The horned swordsman, unaware of the spell, bounced onto the ground. He quickly found his weapon again as black symbols materialised over his head, all a jumble of dollar signs, percent symbols and exclamation marks.
 
The familiar pleasure of steel kissed his collar bone, leaving a burning crescent leaking red down his chest. Shouting in pain and rage, Illidan leapt backwards, landing on his feet as the human woman stood with a crimson tinged sickle.
 
This was getting out of hand. The two of them, perhaps having sensed the threat, had momentarily at least combined efforts against Stormrage. How could they be causing him so much trouble? He was here to showcase his might to the Omniverse and to demonstrate to Dracula his worth. Yet here he stood, facing off against two weaklings and getting consistently sliced without barely injuring them in kind.
 
Illidan looked over his shoulder, catching Gildarts in the heat of confrontation with his two adversaries. He wasn't in a position to offer assistance. Yet in the moment of that evaluation, Illidan's burning eyes found something that would help ease his building fury.
 
Sticking a warglaive into the earth, Illidan thrust his open hand forward. Magic leaked from his body and wrapped around a recently dislodged tree. The fallen oak creaked as the night elf commanded it to rise, a lengthy cylinder of wood hovering in mid-air.
 
Illidan spun and slapped his hand towards his foes, launching the tree at a tremendous speed. The human's eyes widened and the insectoid scurried to get out of the way as the projectile crashed into the soil, burying them both from view.

798 words. Wanted to write more but ... can't!

Illidan attacked Little Ghost with his Twin Blades of Azzinoth.
Little Ghost replied with Perfect Parry twice, though his second performance let Illidan kick him away.
Malon attacked Illidan with her sickles, and steel met steel. 
Illidan charged a Push spell, intending it for Malon until Little Ghost slashed him across the back with Nail.
Instead, Push knocked over Little Ghost.
In the confusion, Malon slashed Illidan's skin along the collarbone. 
Illidan used his telekinesis (or Confine, w/e) to levitate the tree knocked over previously by Gildarts and hurled it at both Little Ghost and Malon, hitting them.

[Karl Jak]

End Phase 3 - Day

[The Humble Sage]

Tearen fell back, momentarily overwhelmed by the strength of Gildarts’ assault. The Sage faced down the man a younger him would have idolized. A warrior-mage, master of powers beyond the ken of normal man. A flame of envy took root in the Sage’s soul and he stepped forward, a blaze materializing in one hand. Gildarts gave a brief laugh.

“Another mage? Let’s see your magic then!” The crash wizard challenged, rushing forward. The Sage had expected this, prepared his stance defensively, but even so his opponent’s speed passed straight through his guard. Gildarts accepted a face full of flames, but the Sage was lifted off his feet by Gildarts’ uppercut.

“For you, Friend!” the mage called towards Illidan, before turning his attention back to Tearen. The strength of the man was almost beyond belief, and the airborne Sage idly wondered how his strange healing would handle shattered bones.

He landed harshly, his attempted roll thwarted by the surrounding foliage. The Scourge of Darkshire bore down on him with twin warglaives, screaming with a fell fury as he slashed the Sage’s torso. The Sage backpedaled, deflecting swipes while he cast a brief spell. The purple octahedron appeared in his free hand and he began to tug on Illidan’s weapons, pulling swings wider and creating an opening. With a grunt, he pulled hard on one of the glaives, causing Illidan’s constant barrage to falter. The Sage launched into a counter attack, snapping the dueling cane at joints and nerve clusters, ending the riposte with a sharp blow to the side of the dark elf’s head.The demonhunter growled and pushed the Sage away with his magic, sending him a short distance to slam into a nearby tree.

“You will regret that, Mageling.” Illidan’s tone dripped hoarfrost as demonic power welled up inside of him. The Sage’s attention was drawn away from Dracula’s chosen prime however, as a funnel of energy reached out towards them both. Tearen had capitalized on Gildarts’ tenuous mental state, and the crash mage was still reeling from the ex-enigma’s mental assault. The former God-mind reached out and engulfed them both in his eldritch power, warping space and gravity, robbing them of their reality. The Sage grit his teeth, leaning on his dueling cane to help him withstand the effects. His eyes drifted to his attacker, Tearen's face was unreadable but he could sense the quiet fury behind his mask.

“My apologies, Wover. I know you by reputation alone, and your history is checkered at best. If I am to believe so momentous a claim, I will need to learn the character behind your words. A man’s fighting style says much about his soul.” And yours does not lend me much confidence. He thought, struggling to maintain his mental faculties amidst the warp’s pull. Too much you prey upon an enemy’s weakness. This is not the mark of heroes…

The warp vanished, and the Sage stumbled, recovering his balance. As he straightened, there was a slick, wet sound, and the blade of a halberd sunk into his side. He looked down in shock, inky black blood spilling from the wound. Is this more honorable to you, Turncoat? Tearen’s voice spoke into his head. Somehow, he had closed the intervening distance and was now staring him down with the same unreadable expression. No, the Sage could see vindication in his eyes. Breath eluded the scholar, and for a moment he simply stood there.

Get out of my head, thank you. He thought with emphasis, his own anger starting to well up. The Sage grabbed hold of the polearm's shaft. His dueling cane came across and down, catching Tearen across the face, and following up with a reverse snap towards the outside of his extended arm. Tearen released the halberd, arm swinging inwards to absorb the impact, and dropped back. His polearm moved of its own accord, pushing slightly deeper into the wound before flying back to Tearen’s hand. There was a shout from nearby. Gildarts had been left unchecked for too long, and Tearen turned away as the Sage sank to one knee, hand clutched to his side.

His inky blood was already at work, stitching the wound as best it could, but the Sage was struggling to draw breath. He wasn’t ready for this; despite countless years of training. Would he ever be? Yes. came the voice in his head. At the end, you will.  The Sage felt a new power rising as he struggled unsteadily back into a fighting position. I must be ready now! He thought, breath ragged but growing more stable, If I die in this battle, than this entire venture was for naught. The Sage steeled himself, pure white beard lengthening as he drew power from his own lifespan. I will not die here!

799 words according to MS word, editing that down was the worst...

Sage used Failed Magician: Gout of embers
Gildarts used Crushing Punch (because you know, 8 attack isn't enough right?)

Illidan used twin blades of Azzinoth
Sage used Failed Magician: Burdenblade (first the weaker version, then finishing with the stronger)
Sage used Dueling cane & perturbing strike

Illidan got annoyed and used Push
Tearen was a party pooper and used Warp burst on both Sage and Illidan (I stretched the "once per round" clause a bit cause I felt two uses in twelve posts was a tad unfair)

Sage got a tad sanctimonious
Tearen used Spontaneity in patience
Sage used dueling cane (cause why not?)
Tearen recollected his weapon with telekinesis


The Sage burned one SP on Regeneration (either one or two damage, rules are vague for 3 DEF)
Sage Spends another SP to activate T1 Powerup: Borrow the future for the next round
Since I didn't think to announce I was using it earlier, I will lump in my solider pill with this charge up, (like he's overcharging the power, in a way that will probably cut his natural lifespan short by a couple years and {insert other dangerous/self-sacrificing but not immediately bad reasons here}, I just forgot to say I wanted to use it at the fight start -_-)

Sage has used 2 SP this post, 3/5 SP remaining.

On to you Tearen!