OOC: This is the first one of my RPs with a Opening Theme.
IC: Kimeru made wa hanasanai GOOD BOY
Kono miroyoku wo wakaraseru TAKE A CHANCE
Koi wo irodoru no wa
Itsumo THRILL na kakehiki ne
HYPERTENSION!
Maiagaru yo takaku tooku dareyorimo
Watashi ga ichiban datte, kizuitara hayaku, hayaku
Toki wo koete dakishimete
Hanarenai itsumademo eien mo ari kamone
Tangalee, Hataria
The Banner that was hanging up on Shinjukia Street said it all
最初年次帝国決闘のトーナメント
Or in English 'First Annual Imperial Dueling Tournament.' All Hataria was watching as the people of the Capital City were Prepareing for the Largest Yu-Gi-Oh Tradeing Card game Tournament ever.
This was when Top Duelists from around The world would Duel at the Imperial Arena for the Golden Crown. The Imperial Gaurd and The Mongolian Gaurd would enforce The "No weapons" Law for all Duelists and Guests.
It was only 6 Days till it began.
Kesshite
22-01-2007, 11:53
Isadorra no Lunni leaned against the cool marble pillar of the gymnasium. She pressed her sweaty head against its smooth, white surface while squeezing her eyes shut. Before her, two men fought in the imperial style; they wore nothing but bright red loin cloths wrapped tightly around their belly, groin, and thighs, shuffling around the white sands with two short, curved kris blades.
Rabis, her student was on the defense and though his opponent had done little but faint with the blade in his right hand, Isadorra knew things were going badly. She could tell without even watching the boy, the heavy foot falls he made as they circled wearily around one another told her he was off balance. His short, choppy steps told her he was not flowing as she had showed him but flinching whenever the other boy lunged.
There was an abrupt whoosh followed by the sound of Rabis gasping.
"ATO," shouted Hijh, the judge. Isadorra looked up to see him waving a white flag. There was a thin crimson trail across Rabis' left breast. Beads of blood were beginning to drip from it down his brown skin.
"One point for white," said Hijh. Isadorra sighed inwardly. Her patron's son was a good boy. A hard studier. Strong and fit. But he showed only basic aptitude with the kris blades.
The two men bowed at one another. "Good round," said Deverous, the other fighter.
Rabis nodded politely, he seemed to know it was a lie, but, if nothing else, he wasn't a poor loser.
"Come here Rabis," said Isadorra, "Practice is over for today."
***
Rabis the Elder's manse was built over two centuries ago. Its monolithic beams and massive painted ceilings a testament to money and power held only by families favored by the royal line. In the back of the house was a wide hanging garden overlooking a private, artificial lake. Rabis the Elder liked to go there and throw bread into the water for the red mallards. Not just any bread, sweet egg bread, the kind Isadorra had only had for holidays as a child.
He was there when Isadorra returned to the manse with Rabis the Younger.
"How did my boy do today?" he asked in a measured, polite tone.
Rabis the Elder was Isadorra's patron. She was fed and clothed at his whim. Without a patron, she had no fighting career and he could easily convince other possible patrons not to sponsor her, if he decided to let her go.
"He lost," she replied. There was more. If she had been talking to another person, someone with a passion for the duel, she would have talked about his footwork, his confidence, or lack, his reliance on his upper body strength, his stance, or a dozen other aspects of the fight. This was not just her life, it was her passion.
Rabis the Elder cared little for these details. Win or lose? It was that simple with him.
"Hmm," he replied and tosses a handful of the butter colored breadcrumbs into the water. The red mallards swarmed over them. "He hasn't won for some time."
"No, he has not," she said. It was the truth. She knew that he blamed her. A prizefighter was a feather in his cap, but so much better was an eldest son who trained and flourished under that fighter. Her gut hurt.
"I have something to show you," Rabis said, "It's on the table."
The table was the low, dark brown slab set next to the shore. There was a white envelop on it, easily within his reach. She walked over, and then picked it up. Inside was a letter about a contest of some sort. She had never heard of it.
"What is this?" she asked.
"It's in Hataria," he said. There was no province of that name. Nor any city she could remember. Was there a new arena in one of the far northern provinces?
"I don't know where that it."
"A world away, Isadorra. You are going to make Kesshite proud."
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=515204 The Sign up Thread
Kesshite
23-01-2007, 06:38
((It's a *card* duel? Oh man, ignore that other post))
OOC: Sorry, didn't realise there was a sign-up thread. After further reading into the tourney, I'm backing out.