NationStates Jolt Archive

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IC:
"How long has it been since you've slept, Mother Confessor?" The Mord-sith's expression was surprisingly sincere and worrisome. Kahlan knew how attached they all were to Richard. It had been a long time since any of them had seen him but they all had the bond to their Lord Rahl and could feel his pressence, somewhere out there in the universe albeit faint. Cypher was constantly asking when his dad would return home but Kahlan could only keep repeating the same thing over and over again. Daddy'll be home soon.

Having barely eaten or taken water for sometime now, Kahlan's appearance had begun to wane. She was now thinner than she had ever been before though still retained her own beauty. Her health had still become an issue of concern for many people in the People's Palace of D'Hara. "I'm fine Rikku. Really, I am."

The short Mord-sith with her long brown braid looked harldy satisfied with the answer. Stubborness was an attribute for her line of work and it was taken to the extreme in some cases. "I see the light in your eyes fading every day that Lord Rahl does not return home. You cannot go on like this and I do not think this idea of yours is a good one. It will attract unwanted attention and most likely unwanted guests."

Kahlan kept staring out over the city grounds and off into the horizon as the late evening breeze tossed her long hair about. Her white dress shined slightly in the solemn moonlight. "I have already cleared it with his Excellency and the he approves. The Empire will, as always, provide full protection during this time and has even agreed not to view it as an opportune moment to shoot down enemy vessels and ambassadors should any wish to attend. There will be enough ships and security personnel in the sector to keep us all safe. The Rangers will be seated with me and I believe Lakfakallae will be sending someone to watch as well as representative of Abh nobility."

"With all do respect Mother Confessor, it has not been our custom to allow foreigners to participate in the melee. It was originally designed for soldiers and generals to sharpen their skills or prove their worthiness. How will you control foreign combatants?"

Kahlan looked at the woman for the first time since she had entered the room but a deep commanding voice cut the silence before Kahlan could answer. A dark figure slowly walked into the room and stood just beyond the threshold of the doorway. His raptor gaze was cold and hard and his long black hair only accentuated this. "Because I will be there to enforce their cooperation. As rules of these engagements go, disobedience is punishable by death. They shall be made aware of this fact in one way or another."

The Mord-sith scrunched up her nose at the man. He was like Lord Rahl in many aspects, only this man was far darker. He almost reminded Rikku of the ancient Rahl line. Stern, cold, dark, ruthless, and deadly. Many of the Mord-sith did not trust him, though they had no reason not to. He only reminded them of past histories that would rather be forgotten. "If you are attending to enforce the peace among combatants and protect us, then I shall attend to protect us all from, Sir Ashram."

Ashram's tone was deep and mocking. "Heh. Very well, but do not interfere with my ways. Those little agiels of yours will not work so well on me." With that, the man left the room with his black cape flowing out behind him.

Rikku shot a questioning glance at Kahlan who had simply turned to staring back out through the window. It seemed the conversation was over and there was no changing her mind on what was to be. "Just answer me this. Why have you opened the tournament to others?"

Kahlan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "We most show those who watch us that we are still strong. That there is nothing that can crash us and nothing will break us. Let them know that we will always be here and that we are not afraid."

Silence filled the room once again as Rikku took a corner of the room to lean against as she continued her vigilance over the Mother Confessor. By now unarmed shuttles were already heading to major governments that were known to the Abh Empire whether they be friend or foe. From there, invitations were being sent out to nations they had heard rumors about or were simply indifferent to. Each one was handed a scroll outlying the place, time, and rules of the tournament along with other information.

The D'Haran Melee Tournament:
For the first time in years, the D'Haran tournament is being opened to those outside of the Abh Empire. We are now opening this to all nations who with to test their champions, warriors, soldiers, or themselves against those that other nations have to offer. Here the mettle of each individual shall be tested to its brink. Anyone willing to participate is asked to arrive at the planet Gryhynu in two weeks time. Diplomats, ambassadors, and political officials are allowed to attend along with their contestant if they so desire.

Only one ship, unarmed per nation is allowed to be sent. All attendees will be under the protection of Star Forces upon their arrival. Anyone who acts in agression against any other nation or the hosts themselves will be swiftly dealt with without challenge signal or ultimatum. You will be shot on site if you fail to follow these directions. Further, there will be no guards or soldiers other than the contestants themselves allowed on the planet below. Star Forces security personnel along with other security forces will see to everyone's safety. Anyone caught with a weapon that is not a contestant will be summarily turned back and told to leave.

The rules of engagement are as follows:
1.) No weapons over fifteen standard feet are permitted.

2.) No weapon may contain a projectile aspect to it.

3.) No magic, Force abilities, or psionic abilities are permitted.

4.) Matches are typically not to the death and are thus won by forcing an opponent to yield or by incapacitating them from fighting further. Any fighter who executes an opponent after they have yielded or are unable to fight will be killed without question. Death in battle is something that is understood and we respect that all contestants are putting themselves in harms way. Accidents can potentially happen but we will not condone executions.

5.) All contestants must compete on foot, tentacle, flipper, fin, stomach, or low hovering. Whatever is their normal means of movement.

6.) If the judge calls for all combat to cease, both contestants will do so immediatly or risk be disqualified from the tournament.

7.) There will be no fighting among contestants outside of the arena floor. Anyone found doing so will be put to stop in anyway deemed necessary.

Violations of these rules can lead to a contestants disqualification or death. Those that set foot on the planet, accept these rules and punishments for breaking them.

Sincerely~
Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor

The bastard sword shined with shimmering energy as it cleaved through bones and rotting flesh alike. The end was near.

Karathis was waving his arms and speaking arcane words as he worked to counter the lich's foul magics. The kobold beside him was slinging arcs of lightning and fireballs, decimating the ranks of the undead surrounding their foe. Every so often a gnome wearing a coolie hat and black garb leapt from the crowds, unleashing barrages of shurikens and hacking through a few more.

At the front was Ulrich, cleaving his way through the hordes to reach their goal. As he kicked away a zombie. Upon the pedestal was a large black opal, swirling with the necromantic energies of the Lich.

"You will fall, Lich!"

The lich turned just in time to see the bastard sword plunge into its phylactery. Its form began to crumble as the death it had cheated for so long caught up with it. "No!"

It was then that the undead king's final contingency became obvious. Radiating from the destroyed gemstone came a great black wash, enveloping all in the long forgotten throne room.

---
The four adventurers materialised precisely a metre over the floor in the reception area. "Oof!" "Ow!" exclaimed the wizards as they fell to the floor roughly. The other two were not so lucky.

"Oof-ARGH!" screamed I'mdyp as the plate-mail clad Ulrich landed on her leg. "Sorry."

Dusting themselves off, Karathis moved his hands, muttering a few words. Nothing happened. Vaikwur tried. Nothing happened there, either. "Nothing's happening. I don't think we're even in the same multiverse anymore."

The gnomish ninja was sitting down as Ulrich tried to heal her leg - a futile effort. Failing that, he set the bone - the ninja would not be fighting for some time.

Getting up and looking around, the paladin was the first to ask the question. "Where are we?"

Leah read the message in silence. A gust of cold air rushed through her trench. She shivered and tightened her blanket around her, the rough fabric making her arms itch. Midway through, her flashlight died, but it didn't matter. She had already read it six times. She knew it by heart:

Captain Walsh is hereby ordered to take her company off the front line and report to Yersinia Spaceport Alpha, with all due haste. You will be transported by the Dauntless-class Cruiser, Valour, to a distant world we know as D'Hara. There, you, Captain Walsh, will fight in a melee combat tournament, for the honour of the Commonwealth. Do not disappoint us, Leah.

Leah sighed and stood up, the cold of the Yersinian glacier penetrating her flak armour with ease. It was so dark that she barely see her hand, but she knew her soldiers were around her in the trench. She clambered up and out of the trench, fingers numb against the snow and ice, despite her gloves.

The Captain cupped her hands and bellowed, "Gamma Company, form up! Grab your equipment!" Around her, there were footsteps and panting, muttered curses. The sounds of her soldiers waking up and following the order. Equipment rattled, and sergeants whispered threats to the slower soldiers. After two minutes of scrambling, the First Sergeant saluted her, his silhouette barely seen in the nearly nonexistent light, and reported that the company was ready.

She returned the salute and shouted, "We're headed due east, to Hive Alpha. I found us a ride off this ball of ice, so hurry it up and don't get lost!" The soldiers gave a brief cheer and were underway.

After several hours of stumbling through trenches and tripping in the deep snow, dawn broke. The white star's harsh, bright light reflected off the snow and nearly blinded the company, but they squinted and pressed forward. By midday, Hive Alpha and its spaceport loomed above them, two giant heaps of concrete, steel, and rust.

After a short walk across the spaceport, which held the title as the warmest place on the planet. The constant exhaust of military-grade engines heated the pad quite nicely. Standing proud in one of the cradles was the Valour. She was a nice ship, quite fast and bristling with lances and weapons batteries. The company quickly boarded the vessel, entering the dark, ghostly interior in silence.

Leah settled into her launch seat, its worn cushions warm against her back, a godsend after months of the frigid Yersinian atmosphere. Around her, the company settled in, chatting quietly. The "buckle harness" light came on, lighting the passenger bay a calm green, and, for several seconds, there was an incessant clicking noise as two hundred individuals engaged their five-point harnesses. The ship around them rumbled, and they were aloft. It exited the atmosphere and sliced through space. To outsiders, it was there one second, and gone the next as the vessel entered the Warp, well on its way to D'Hara.

Lenina plucked a few strings on her Fender Strat as AC/DC's "Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution" filled the cabin. The small Gagarin II shuttlecraft moved quickly, FTL power pushing it quickly across the stars to D'Hara. It was the first time really any of the People's Acolytes had been there. New Dornalians had heard of the place, but not many tourists came, and it was not very well known to some extent.

Whittling away the trip with her guitar was her preferred activity of choice. Training was work, and she felt like having a little fun once in a while. So, she hit that blues chord again, bending the strings some to produce that nice warped sound.

She then fumed about the regulations. Over her protests, her Sensei had forbidden her to use the Universal Chord techniques she had perfected; it would be conventional Mixed Martial Arts, California Style only with the exception of that adamantine Strat. It was built that way for hitting people upside the head if they got too close. Now, it was going to get a workout.

"I'm not a novitiate," Lenina shrugged. "Why the hell did they treat me like one...."

Nonetheless, it was obvious she had to follow the rules, or not participate at all. Besides, the Acolytes were sending men off to war now, and things were sparse down at the Temple.

As the shuttle edged close to Abh space, the pilot said, "This is Blue Eagle shuttle No. 4563432141. We are here for the conference, over."

Karlburg sat down in a seat beside the pilot of the ship, looking into space kind of blankly.

"You know, you're not gonna stand a chance in these kinds of fights. I mean it's not like you're gonna be takin' some drunk riff-raff from the bar. I mean, what the hell are you doing here?" The pilot looked at Erwin and then looked attentively into space.

"I volunteered. The best guy for the job is out for a few months and we were looking to get some exposure in the universe, you know. I mean you know BKZ. The only people who come by are those half-yearly traders." Erwin shrugged, looking at the clock.

"I thought you guys were pacifists.."

"That's not entirely accurate.. I mean we don't war anymore, because that's just not how it ought to work, but that doesn't mean I can't fight. Hell, I actually went into a military academy, just didn't finish it." Karlburg chuckled a bit to himself, thinking about how it all ended up.

"Well, you're the one payin'..."

The rickety smuggling ship approached its destination. Karlburg got on the transmitter shortly after the pilot quickly warned him about Abh security.

"Last chance, Karlburg. I can turn around if you want." The pilot looked into Erwin's eyes for a moment but it was obvious Erwin had made his decision.

"This is the champion from the Space Paratrooper colony for the D'Hara tournament, request an escort there."

The D'Haran System was a furry of Star Forces activity and great number of traffic going to and from the main planet. Military ships were everywhere on patrol and standing guard around the planet. Heavily armed ships were all in waiting ready to stop any and all vessels heading to the planet. Gun ports were opened and directed at the two shuttles that had just arrived.

For a time there was no reply leaving people to wonder if they would be shot just for ignorance sakes. That was until a message came from the planet below.

Blue Eagle shuttle and Space Paratrooper shuttle, welcome to D'Hara. I assume you all have read the rules of the tournament before you decided to arrive. Barring that, you are cleared to temporary dust down on the Goroth plains. Once your contents have been dropped off, you may return to orbit where your ships will be watched over during your stay.

Thank you.
---------------------------

On the planet below, soldiers were hustling around the area to make sure that the city walls were all secured. It was safe to say that sufficient guards were posted and no one was getting inside without being noticed.

A commotion was heard in the nobles quarter of the city atop the plateau. Several of the Rangers were in the area headed by Ashram himself. He came upon four individuals just lying down in the grass. Not a single one matched any description of a resident nor were they dressed like anyone he had ever seen. His sword cleared its sheath in the breath between a blink of an eye and was pointed at one prone individual's exposed throat. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The gnome's eyes widened and she quickly put his hands behind her head.

Ulrich responded, a little hastily - understandable, given the mortal situation his travelling companion of six years was in.

"Adventurers, and we have no idea."

The other two stood up. One was human, the other was a scrawny lizard-creature. The raised their hands in the air.

Ulrich himself slowly pulled his bastard sword from it's sheath and allowed it to fall to the ground, keeping his hands raised.

The D'Haran System was a furry of Star Forces activity and great number of traffic going to and from the main planet. Military ships were everywhere on patrol and standing guard around the planet. Heavily armed ships were all in waiting ready to stop any and all vessels heading to the planet. Gun ports were opened and directed at the two shuttles that had just arrived.

For a time there was no reply leaving people to wonder if they would be shot just for ignorance sakes. That was until a message came from the planet below.




The shuttle descended onto the Goroth Plains, the foreign and somewhat anachronistic environment presenting itself as they landed. Lenina said, "This is it?"

The pilot only replied, "Well ma'am, I was only told to drop you off here. I'm sure the tournament ain't gonna be here."

Lenina sighed, uttering, "Very well. It's a bit odd though."

The shuttle landing, it opened up its side hatch and Lenina stepped out, slinging the Strat on her back and carrying her bags. The shuttle took off, and she was left there, waiting.

The message from the Mother Confessor raised a few eyebrows but it was decided to open it up to those who were interested. After getting a number of people willing to test thier mettle and metal, it was made known that they would not be participating as representatives but as independents. The information prompted most to withdraw leaving only three who were still willing to participate. Of those three, one was injured durning training while the other was struck in a vehicular accident.

The small civilian craft appeared in the system that Gryhynu resided within and broadcast a basic message out to avoid causing undue stress on the doubtlessly taxed secruity forces.

"We have Keigo Jimaru, a contestant in the D'Hara melee tournament. Requesting further directions and or instructions."

As the ship touched down on the surface, Karlburg went to the small storeroom inside the ship and grabbed his backpack. It was rather bulky, carrying all the equipment for the coming fight. The pilot stood behind him as he put on his backpack and exited the room.

"Listen, man, if you make it past the first round, the return trip's on me." he said, stepping back to allow Karlburg through.

"You don't think much of me, eh?"

"No, but you've earned it if you make it that far. Oh, and watch out for those Abh.. They'll kill you if they think it suits 'em."

Karlburg walked to the door to exit the ship, looking back for a moment.

"I think i have it under control, thanks." Erwin stepped out the door onto the plains.

He smelled the air for a moment and looked around, finding Lenina. Karlburg looked her over for a few moments and then turned to figure out where the actual tournament would be held.

"Thought there'd be some kind of building or something. Maybe this isn't the right place.."

He looked around, a bit more confused this time.

"Adventurers, and we have no idea."
His blade tip remained pointed at the gnome's throat as an evil grin spread across the dark man's face. "Allow me to clear the confusion of where you are. You have just found yourself on the lush planet of Gryhynu and you have arrived at the most unopportune time. By rights I can have you executed, but I am not without sympathy."

Ashram nodded his head at a couple guards standing around. "Grab their weapons and store them in the Jedi temple. For the rest, you may place them under house arrest until the melee tournament is over."

He finished by looking at the unwarranted guests with a flat, level tone. "Unless any of them wishes to compete."
-----------------------------------

"We have Keigo Jimaru, a contestant in the D'Hara melee tournament. Requesting further directions and or instructions."

The scene of orbit in space over Gryhynu was far more accomodating than D'Har and far less hostile as well. There were no shortage of military vessels, but as promised, they were there to keep the peace and guard any foreign vessel in the system. An orbiting station sat stark against the lush greenary below.

A message was broadcasted to the small craft. "Welcome to Gryhynu and the D'Haran Melee. I trust you have read every rule that was provided and will adhere by them. If so, then you may depart for the surface below. A flight path will be illuminated for you leading you down to the pads outside of the temple grounds.

Good luck in the tournament."

As promised, a holographic series of lighted boxes illuminated for a flight path down to the planet's surface.
------------------------------

Reports of the two contestants arriving at the wrong planet had been given to Nicci. As per her orders, a host First Phial soldiers were dispatched to discover their identities and provide transportation for them to Gryhynu.

A slow rumble of hooves could be heard on the grassy plains coming from the city. One hundred spear tips glinted in the sunlight as one hundred calvary units charged down the plains. They were there within seconds encircling the two individuals with spear tips pointed low.

"I am General Mieffert of the D'Haran First Phial. You two contestants are slightly off your mark for the stadium of the tournament. The tournament is being held at Gryhynu where the temple of the Jedi has been built and the Betterman Council resides. Since mistakes can happen, the mistress of these lands has allowed you to go freely. A shuttle will be provided to transport the both of you away."

Finally, it's landed. He thought. The sound of struts touching down on solid ground relieved him greatly. He had been cooped up in the tiny cargo compartment for a better part of a week. He had snuck onto the transport some days earlier, in hopes it would take him to the right planet.

As the cargo bay doors opened, he rushed out. He carried no cargo, no luckage, not even weapons or identification. The only thing he carried was the dirty old forest colored fatigues on his back.

He moved quickly, using no particular grace, just pumping his legs as fast as he could, past the unloaders, who screamed some foreign profanities at him. When he finally made it to a public street, outside of the spaceport, he slowed down, and started to walk. He was tired, but in no way wiped.

He looked around. The tournament he had come for was around here somewhere. He hoped he wasn't late, but still took off on a jog to where oddly languaged pamphlet hinted to where the contestants should gather.

Ulrich stepped forwards. "If it will guarantee the freedom of myself and my comrades, I will compete. If not, then I'm afraid this will end poorly."

Reports of the two contestants arriving at the wrong planet had been given to Nicci. As per her orders, a host First Phial soldiers were dispatched to discover their identities and provide transportation for them to Gryhynu.

A slow rumble of hooves could be heard on the grassy plains coming from the city. One hundred spear tips glinted in the sunlight as one hundred calvary units charged down the plains. They were there within seconds encircling the two individuals with spear tips pointed low.

"I am General Mieffert of the D'Haran First Phial. You two contestants are slightly off your mark for the stadium of the tournament. The tournament is being held at Gryhynu where the temple of the Jedi has been built and the Betterman Council resides. Since mistakes can happen, the mistress of these lands has allowed you to go freely. A shuttle will be provided to transport the both of you away."

Lenina looked at Mieffert and his cavalry oddly and said, "Wait...this isn't the planet?" The sight of all these horsemen was astounding to say the least; it reminded her of that Warhammer tabletop game her little brother played.

Looking at the ground, and scratching her head, she then looked at him and said, "Damn pilot. Must be a new guy. That would've sucked if I had to stay here....let's get moving."

You could almost hear "Staying Alive" Playing in the air, but it wasn't though. It sure would've made a good theme song for the man making his way towards the tournament though.

He wore a red sparkly jacked, all bedazzeled out with sequins and Jewels. His white pants appeared to be much the same way. He wore a matchuing shirt under the jacket.

His black sunglasses were only three shades darker than his skin. They were rimmed with Gold, and had Emeralds in the arms. He had a big poof balck Afro, with a Gold afro pick in it.

In contrast, he wore Black leather dancing shoes that seemed worn from excessive use.

On his hands he wore four rings on each finger, each set of four bound together by a word. On the left was "Funky" and on the right was "Sucka"

He was Deuce, and he was a dancing man.

as if hearing the music in the air that wasn't there, he danced as he made his way towards the tournament.

There was no sound logical reasonable explaination of how he got there, he just was.

Reports of the two contestants arriving at the wrong planet had been given to Nicci. As per her orders, a host First Phial soldiers were dispatched to discover their identities and provide transportation for them to Gryhynu.

A slow rumble of hooves could be heard on the grassy plains coming from the city. One hundred spear tips glinted in the sunlight as one hundred calvary units charged down the plains. They were there within seconds encircling the two individuals with spear tips pointed low.

"I am General Mieffert of the D'Haran First Phial. You two contestants are slightly off your mark for the stadium of the tournament. The tournament is being held at Gryhynu where the temple of the Jedi has been built and the Betterman Council resides. Since mistakes can happen, the mistress of these lands has allowed you to go freely. A shuttle will be provided to transport the both of you away."

Karlburg shook his head as he heard the trampling cavalry and would've drawn if he had a handgun available. Maybe he should've bought one at the store in that rickety station but his better judgement thought otherwise. By the time he finished that line of thought they had him surrounded.

"It's very strange for very professional people like the Abh to allow such a mistake. You cleared a landing here, but why didn't you just tell us in space? It would have saved us all the trouble. I find it very difficult to believe that no one thought of that."

Ulrich stepped forwards. "If it will guarantee the freedom of myself and my comrades, I will compete. If not, then I'm afraid this will end poorly."

The grin widened but his eyes were now on the soldiers standing around him. "Take his companions to holding cells within the temple. As for this one..."

Ashram accentuates the point by turning the tip of his blade from the gnome to Ulrich. "...Give him back his weapon and 'escort' him to the arena."

A couple soldiers picked up the sword and handed it to Ulrich while the rest forced his companions up and into a group to be marched off.
------------------------

"Damn pilot. Must be a new guy. That would've sucked if I had to stay here....let's get moving."

Despite primeval weapons that they carried, the general was equipped with a Star Forces communication device. The blue jewel on the back of his hand began to glow as it was activated. "Star Forces command, this is General Mieffert. Requesting a shuttle on the Gorgoth plains for pick up of two foreign individuals. Destination, Gryhynu for the tournament."

For a while, the hundred soldiers or so sat around waiting for what seemed to be nothing in particular. That was until a shadow covered the area they were waiting as a shuttle descended near their location. A door opened beckoning them in.

"That shuttle will take you to your destination on the right planet this time."

"It's very strange for very professional people like the Abh to allow such a mistake. You cleared a landing here, but why didn't you just tell us in space? It would have saved us all the trouble. I find it very difficult to believe that no one thought of that."

"Perhaps, but we do prefer to be hospitable to our guests. Since your pilots made a mistake on their first time through the Empire, we figured that it would be best to pilot you there ourselves. Besides, very few ever go to this planet anyways."
---------------------------

For the rest that were already on the planet, there was very little noise other than what drifted from the dense jungle covering much of the land. There were only two clearings on the whole continent and only three major structures of importance. One being thick in the jungle was a rare sight to anyone. The Jedi temple, for what the Abh simply called Force Users, peaked in a shallow valley that caught the most sunlight on all of Gryhynu. A steady stream ran through it allowing many to use the water for various purposes. The second clearing occurred higher in the mountains.

The stadium had been constructed for two masters of the temple to dual one another in a safe surrounding without risking the temple's integrity. Afterall, the temple was called home by many Jedi or Alcolytes of several different nations. Not overly large, the arena could seat about a thousand people with a number of smaller structures surrounding it most likely for contestants, officials, soldiers, and other uses. This was where everyone was being called to.

For the rest that were already on the planet, there was very little noise other than what drifted from the dense jungle covering much of the land. There were only two clearings on the whole continent and only three major structures of importance. One being thick in the jungle was a rare sight to anyone. The Jedi temple, for what the Abh simply called Force Users, peaked in a shallow valley that caught the most sunlight on all of Gryhynu. A steady stream ran through it allowing many to use the water for various purposes. The second clearing occurred higher in the mountains.

The stadium had been constructed for two masters of the temple to dual one another in a safe surrounding without risking the temple's integrity. Afterall, the temple was called home by many Jedi or Alcolytes of several different nations. Not overly large, the arena could seat about a thousand people with a number of smaller structures surrounding it most likely for contestants, officials, soldiers, and other uses. This was where everyone was being called to.

Deuce made his way out of the Jungle, and looked at the Arena.

"Impressive." he said.

He looked around for a suitable main entrance.

A letter of such importance had been taken straight away to the Underdark where the Warrior's Institution was located. The envoy carrying the message was dismissed back to whatever home he came from, assured that the message would be delivered appropriatly. Such a thing travelled miles to find the rightful hand of someone that would deem it approrpiate.

Clang of steel against steel sounded in the pitch black darkness of the deep caverns. Only the stalagmites connected to Mythrandir's core gave off any "light". Light for a dark elf in the sense of infra red vision. To them, the deep cavern was brilliantly lit.

War Mistress Shizra stood out on the balcony at the highest point within the Institute. She leaned out and allowed the drafts of warm air to toss her long white hair and the sheer black gown she wore. Her massive four posted bed rested empty with this night's restlessness. Much was on her mind these nights, as there always seemed to be something troubling her at night.

The knock at the door shook her from deep contemplation and hazy thoughts. A delicate hand slid over to the silver dagger on the railing and gently gripped the hilt. "Enter."

Wood creaked as the door opened and then closed. "War Mistress, we've received a message from a race calling themselves Abh."

"Yes. Elder Thrandur mentioned some minor dealings with them a while ago but nothing substantial. What is it?"

Head bowed, the messenger walked out onto the balcony and placed the scroll on the stone railing. With one deep bow, the messenger excused himself and headed back out the door. Shizra relaxed her grip on the dagger and took up the scroll instead. Her violet eyes scanned over the pages. Heat from hands writing and the ink itself, allowed her to see the flowing script.

Shizra kept reading and walked back to her bed and fell backwards into the soft matress and featherd pillows. Who should go? Elder Sebastian would want to go for fun if he heard about it and certainly Elder Thrandur would like to as well. Perhaps she should go herself and compete. But no, that would take away from any intelligence she could gather about other contestants there. She needed a student on the verge of graduation that was willing to throw themselves into a desperate forray.

A small smile crossed her dark, flawless skinned face. There was someone. Yes, she would do nicely.
------------------------------

"This is Mythrandir transport Phoenix requesting permission for atmospheric insertion."

Shizra looked out through one of the windows at the multitude of warships in the area. Many of them looked larger than anything the Forge had created. Perhaps what bothered her more was that they matched some of the silhouettes that the news had been broadcasting while covering galactic events and wider wars. She was glad Sebastian was not here less his immaturity kick in and go insane drooling over different ships. Besides, he needed to be with his wife. Things were not so great between them now.

"So why did you pick me War Mistress?" The young light elf female sat in a plush chair with her arms crossed.

It was the same thing over and over again since they left the space dock. "Because, frankly, you are a trouble maker that could use the extra credit to ensure your graduation. You have repeatedly gotten into fights with your other classmates, quarrelled with your instructors, and you live alone. I'm hoping that some of these otherworlders will knock some sense and respect into you."

"So what does me living alone have to do with anything?"

Shizra smiled as pleasantly as was possible from a dark elf. "Because if you die, no one will miss you."

"Acknowledged." The craft sent back as it began to follow the indicated flight path. Touching down at a pad, a single door opened to reveal either a flat-chested woman or a man garbed in a shining white full-body garment while a box of equal height followed as the person looked about to see if a guide was nearby or an indication of direction.

Spotting someone who looked more suited to a brothel for those who desired male companionship than a martial competition who seemed to have an idea of where the entrance was, Keigo followe.

After the competitor was safely away, the vessel returned to space to wait and watch. And most importantly to many of the crew, to gamble.

"This is Mythrandir transport Phoenix requesting permission for atmospheric insertion."

"Welcome to Gryhynu and the D'Haran Melee. I trust you have read every rule that was provided and will adhere by them. If so, then you may depart for the surface below. A flight path will be illuminated for you leading you down to the pads outside of the temple grounds.

Good luck in the tournament."

Shortly after, a similar flight path was illuminated for the Mythrandir shuttle.
-----------------------

There were a number of people walking around this day. Some of the Rangers that were simply patrolling to keep the peace along with a few D'Haran soldiers. Armed guards were there to greet the arriving contestants and escort them to their rooms high in the mountains.

Force users remained in their temples for the most part, staying to their training with a few coming out once and a while to watch who was coming and going. At the edge of the jungle, a couple of red eyes glared back at those arriving and then retreated back after a few brief moments.

Deuce shrugged, and strolled right up to an armed guard.

"Here for the tournament Yo. Gonna be a contender, a Champion even! I'm just not sure entirely where to go. The Name's Deuce, Deuce Ri-an, The Disco God. Okay, Demi-God."

Ulrich sheathed his sword and followed the guards, lowering his visor as the two wizards picked up the gnome and followed closely behind.

Erwin simply walked inside the shuttle and sat down at the nearest seat and set his backpack on the floor.

ooc: I hate RPing arrivals, so I'll jump ahead a bit
Oh, and a little note: the Bloodhound class Diplomatic ship is a 700 meter long cruiser, largest ship in the fleet that can touch down on a planet's surface. Because of its size, I'm assuming that you're tossing me down on a huge landing pad somewhere.

IC:
Gary Wind stood on the landing pad, an almost endless sheen of tarmac, watching the Bloodhound class diplomatic ship glide back into orbit. Here come the cavalry.... He glanced around at the group who had come against his wishes. Why can't they just leave an old man in peace? He'd been given a mission, couldn't he just finish it without the pomp and nonsense of a whole diplomatic corps?

Serves me right I guess, for all that arm twisting though. He smiled and thought back to when the message had first come in.... Bruce had been so annoyed. Gary was sure he wanted to go, but how could he say no to an old veteran? Especially since that veteran had been his Commander on several occasions....

Speaking of the devil, Bruce Halsey sat a short distance away, playing a game of cards with two others. Gary thought Sandy and Nikola were a weird pair, but they managed to keep Halsey out of trouble, so it was forgivable. Besides, Sandy had really cute eyes.... "Aight, here comes our ride, best pack up. Hey, is that-"

"-Spades, South Haven style." Nikola looked up from his game. "That is what you were asking about, right?"

Okay then.... "But of course.... Anyways, they're here now. When we get to quarters, deal me in if you would. I used to play in the-"

"But I thought you were still in the service." Sandy looked up at him, that awkwardly knowing smile playing in her eyes. Wind was about to say something, but was instantly cut off. "Oh, is shore work really that bad? Nikola-"

"-I'll remind you. Why do you want to die in the field though? Seems to be slightly self-defeating." Sandy answered this with a wry smile, too which Nikola only shrugged. Bruce leaned back, pocketing the cards and shrugging at Wind. "Beats me too old friend. I think we're missing at least half of this conversation."

"At least...." Wind hobbled forward towards the Abh representatives. "Hello, I'm Gary Wind. The two wied ones over there are Nikola Perez and Sandy Farsee, and the lazy excuse for a gunner over there is Bruce Halsey, Deputy Prime Minister if such a post exists. I understand there's a bit of a tournament going on."

"Here for the tournament Yo. Gonna be a contender, a Champion even! I'm just not sure entirely where to go. The Name's Deuce, Deuce Ri-an, The Disco God. Okay, Demi-God."

A D'Haran soldier armored to the teeth stopped at the question. Pointing up a winding path near the mountain slope, "That's the path that will lead you up the mountain and to the arena but there are also transports that can take you there if you wish. Check in with the guards once you arrive and they will show you your quarters."

Erwin simply walked inside the shuttle and sat down at the nearest seat and set his backpack on the floor.

Once both Erwin and Lenina were in the shuttle, it took off from D'Hara and headed straight for Gryhynu. (you'll both arrive in the next post so don't worry about posting anything else.)

Ulrich sheathed his sword and followed the guards, lowering his visor as the two wizards picked up the gnome and followed closely behind.

Luckily for Ulrich, he and his comrades had managed to fall in the living sector for contestants of the melee. Ashram looked through a list of those that were expected to attend and their lodging sectors. The next list contained any housing that was not being used and reserved for late comers or diplomats. "Take his companions to housing B-2 and put a guard there. Let them out when it is his turn to fight. As for this one, place his him next to the Dornalian combatant. Kill him if he tries to escape, if he is not there on the patrol checks; kill his companions."

Ashram left the group of guards to their task of splitting the strangers up and placing them in their separate rooms.
-----------------------------

"Hello, I'm Gary Wind. The two wied ones over there are Nikola Perez and Sandy Farsee, and the lazy excuse for a gunner over there is Bruce Halsey, Deputy Prime Minister if such a post exists. I understand there's a bit of a tournament going on."

Jessyka kept her cloak pulled low as she walked up to the Inferno delegates. Much of her physical appearance was hidden except for a glimpse of a womanly figure and long blue hair that sneaked a strand or two out. "Yes, there is a melee tournament that starts in a little while. If you wish to participate, then please get in the car."

As if on cew, a long limo "hovered" its way over behind Jessyka and an automated door swung open to beckon the group in.

a thunderhawk entered the sytem d';harra control this is shadow reqeussting landing rights

Keigo followed the self-proclaimed demi-godling part of the way after hearing him get instructions. Spotting the shuttles indicated, the contestant headed toward one and boarded it so that it could convey any other contestants as well.

A D'Haran soldier armored to the teeth stopped at the question. Pointing up a winding path near the mountain slope, "That's the path that will lead you up the mountain and to the arena but there are also transports that can take you there if you wish. Check in with the guards once you arrive and they will show you your quarters."

"Thank you." he said.

He turned in place, and became Rocky Balboa. He shadow boxed the air for a second or two, then ran up the mountain.

At the top, he turned around, and riased his fists to the sky. Then he spun in place and was back in his normal Skin Color and disco style.

"Man, that's hard, even if you are in shape." he said, painting heavily.

OOC: That's his one of his powers. I won't do it, in battle, because then I could just suddenly change into huge monster and then everyone would be in trouble. But for purposes of Clarification, he looked and sounded exactly like Rocky Babloa from the Rocky series. Then he turned back.
It was a joke.

(If it's all the same to everyone, I think I get the drift and can take care of my end of arrival to the arena.)

The Mythrandir shuttle landed on one of the larger pads as it was a commercial transport. Two female elves disembarked and signed in with some of the D'Haran guards in sight. Shizra opened her cloak to reveal that she was not armed in anyway while Jeishka presented her weapon of choice for the melee. A long curved elvish blade along with an energy shield that could easily be activated and deactivated. It was a good balance of offense and defense in her opinion.

Having been cleared, the two women caught a ride in one of the cars offered to transport them up the mountain side. These cars were far different than those of Mythrandir. Mythrandir ground transports were more like drawn carriages only adapted for this new age. Jeishka fanned herself trying to keep the ever present humidity at bay while she and Shizra looked out the window. It was a mystery to them both why such a lively planet only had two indications of civilization. Perhaps they were ecologically minded and did not wish to disrupt the balance here or had no interest in the planet itself. In anycase the temple in the distance looked good enough to be compared to the Warrior's Institute while the image of the valley looked like it belonged on canvas.

Finally arriving at the arena gates, they left their vehicle and asked to where their rooms would be for the duration of their stay. A couple guards escorted the ladies over to one building and unlocked the door for them. They threw their belongings down and checked out the rooms while they waited for whenever they would be needed.

ooc: in the name of character development!
-snippity-
Wind shot a glance at his friends and hobbled towards the limo, leaning heavily on a cane. She's an odd one.... let's see just what she's like. "Say Miss.... err.... Say ma'am, would you help me into this car? I'm not the man I used to be. Too many years for that." Years, wars, and desk jobs.

On the other side, the others began loading luggage and piling in. Wind glanced in at Bruce, settling himself down in one of the seats, half-way smiling. He put his hand on the top of the car, passing the cane in to Bruce. "Careful with it Mister Deputy Minister, that's the only one I brought." "Sure thing cap'n."

A single small aether jump indicated the arrival of the Tannelornian participant, admittedly no sanctioned presence had been sent by the DCFT. Instead arrived Johannes Schneider, sensing a perfect opportunity to advertise his rather formidable skills to a wide audience. After all winning this..D'hara tournament would bring him fame amongst the enemies of Tannelorn as well as the friends of his former nation. For his machinations to come to fruition, exhibitions such as this were necessary.

As he entered the system he sent out a transmission to the authorities, alerting them to his arrival.

Greetings hosts of this fine tournament, Johannes Schneider formerly of Tannelorn, has arrived. Do not mind the appearance of my craft, all weapons are disarmed and the missile armament has been left behind, you have my assurance on my honour, may I proceed to land?

OOC

Johannes X-HMF-4, disarmed for the tourney of course.
http://i119.photobucket.com/albums/o133/Conan2525/JohannesXHMF4.jpg?t=1171524520

The gnomish ninja nodded at Ulrich as the others were led away, whispering a message veiled in codewords and seemingly innocuous phrases.

"Let the winds of Olidammara and the light of Pelor guide you."

I will do my best to get to you.

Ulrich's reply was similarly innocuous.

"May Glittergold be with you."

Don't take any big risks.

"St. Cuthbert be praised."

I won't.

As the two groups were led away from each other, Ulrich's concealed face became quite solemn.

OOC: NE, if you want to go somewhere with your character let me know. Otherwise I can speed this up to get to the fighting.

OOC2: Seph, that Thunderhawk better be unarmed or it's going bye bye.

IC:
Both Deuce and Keigo were asked to present their weapon of choice for the tournament. After that, they were then checked again for any additional weapons. Upon a clean sweep, soldiers escorted each of them to a living quarter that was pracitically a small home complete with kithcen, bedroom, bath, and living room. They were told to report to the arena floor in fifteen minutes for opening ceremonies.

Ulrich's companions in the meantime were shoved off into an isolated housing sector closer to more guards than anything. Ulrich was taken to his own room where he was informed to report to the arena floor in fifteen minutes.
-----------------------

"Say Miss.... err.... Say ma'am, would you help me into this car? I'm not the man I used to be. Too many years for that." Years, wars, and desk jobs.

Jessyka, while still an Abh, she had been taught kinder attitudes towards people. So without saying a word, she walked over and offered her arm to help the man down into the limo.
---------------------------

(Tann afterthis, consider yourself landed and in your quarters.)
There was a slight pause after the transmission had been received. Most likely discussing whether or not to accept the landing. After awhile the automated response came back giving the ship clearance to land on the planet. There were ways of dealing with ships that didn't follow guidelines should it ever come to that. Hopefully it wouldn't.

OOC3: For everyone else that is in this, don't worry about posting an arrival. Just consider yourself on the planet and checked in. That way we can get the fighting going.

Deuce had settled upon his Brass knuckles.

He liked the look of the apartment. locked it up, and then turned to leave.

He went to the Arena floor.

Keigo held out the blade for inspection and once having got it cleared, followed the soldiers to the the apartment. Having delivered thier message of the deadline, the soldiers found the door shut on them. With only a few minutes to go the door opened to reveal an odd young man. With coal black hair contrasting with skin only a shades darker than pure white and bright violet eyes, the clothes and robe that were the same colour as his hair while the innerside of the robe was blood-red and held a frayed edge.

Looking at the guard, he motioned for them to lead the way.

Right on schedule, Ulrich arrived in the arena, resplendent in his polished mithral suit of armour and his shield reflective as ever. Strapped to his side was the sheathed bastard sword, while on the other side was a gleaming short sword.

He said nothing, though his visor was up and his appearance betrayed no emotion.

ooc ofcourse

shadow inspected his lighting claws and chain sword and smiled may th empeoror guide my blade to victory in his name

A red pentagram suddenly glowed on the tile floor.
Therewas a strange whooshing sound, and as if he had been kicked in the ass, Phillip Norutus was hurled out of the pentagram and onto the floor.
He laid on his knees, gasping.
"Dammit Herennius, don't ever do that again, even to a criminal!"
He stood up, and analyzed the other members.

Erwin stepped out of his room satisfied that he had learned enough to not get killed in the first fight.

Karlburg walked into the arena carrying a spear around 6' long, made of metal. He wore a flak jacket over his uniform and a few pads covering his elbows and knees. He wore a military helmet that did nothing to cover his face but provided adequate protection from fragmentation. Of course, it wouldn't be fragmentation or anything of that nature that would be the problem in any kind of arena fight. As he looked at the rest of the contestants, it dawned on him: He was seriously unprepared. He had expected to lose, but these weren't just seasoned fighters that he may have been able to beat through luck. Many were huge monsters or otherworldly creatures that could mince him in but a single blow.

"I have got to be out of my mind.."

Horns blared from the mountain reaches all the way down to the valley, signifying the final call for all contestants to enter the arena. Once inside, they would have seen a pavillion in the stands that was covered with cloth and shielding the sun. Sitting there in a grandly carved wooden chair was a woman in a pure simple white dress. As she stood, her long dark hair fell to her waist. Seated behind her were rows of members of the Rangers with their respective weapons resting beside them. Ashram had his own seat on her left while three Mord-Sith remained standing behind Kahlan's chair in their form fitting leather armor.

She walked out to the edge where the light reflected off her face. "Champions of distant lands, noble warriors of long time allies; you have all agreed to partake in a tounrament that has been around since our existance. This is the first time that we have allowed outsiders to actually participate. Many of you have come to prove your worth, while others have come to make a name for themselves. I assure you that you will all get your chance. Today you will receive the chance of for once facing your opponent eye-to-eye in personal combat. Those of you not participating in the tournament, are welcome to sit here in the stands beside us and cheer on your favorites. For now, we will begin the most holiest of trials."

Kahlan unravelled a scroll to read off the first contenders. "The first match will be between...Ezekiel Rosh and Leah Walsh. Everyone else is to clear the arena floor."

As everyone left the arena, Ezekiel looked back to see the other contendors. His soul sunk as he saw multiple opponents he'd have no chance against. Giant robots, bugs, men in huge suits of power armor. He shrugged it off. He'd deal with those hurtles as they came.

When everyone left, he looked at the only remaining contestant. It was a tall somewhat slender female. He cocked his head at her. He knew looks could be decieving, but he couldn't wrap his head around it. He cracked his knuckles, which hurt quite a bit, and he mouthed a subtle "Owe."

He looked up towards the sheltered stand where the seemingly royal spectators were. He didn't know who they were, but he thought he'd better show some kind of respect. Snapping to attention, in his dirty, grimey fatigues, he snapped a quick salute. The eyes on his head were doing the 1000 mile stare, his mouth underneath his wooly overgrowth, which protruded out a full four inches, was straight. The patch on his left ripped sleeve had a big 14th Infantry unit, the patch on his right sleeve was the three pronged flag of Azaha.

Dropping his salute, he turned around lazily and gave his opponent a quick smirk. "Hey there."

Keigo found the woman slightly odd as well as more than a trifle quaint in her reasons that they might be present for the tournament. He had come for a quite different reason than to prove or make a name for himself. With a faint, mildly mocking and ever so faintly creepy smile, he saluted the hosts before heading to the stands to await his turn.

Remaining standing even thought there were chairs that were so very close at hand, he watched both those whose match had begun and those awaiting thier forthcoming match.

the angel like being lookked at his oppostion heh too easy the hummed the warriors cathism of hate

Deuce left the floor, and entered the stands to watch.

Ulrich's loud clanking in his platemail was obvious as everybody heard loud clanging as he climbed the steps to the stand to watch.

He sat down in the front, visor up.

he sate in a chair his helmet romoved

*Twiddles his thumbs in this bump.*

You around GTR? I'm ready and waiting here.. dunno if you got the TG of me teling you its started but... I'd like to get this show on the road.

Gary Wind walked into the contestant's box, glad to finally be rid of that irksome entourage. Why did Halsey bring those two? Nikola and Sandy were a charming pair, but there was definitely a limit to how much exposure to them he could take in a day. Cane clicking on the floor, he strode up to the line of seats that had been set up for this occasion, grabbing one next to Lenina Zhao.

His joints creaked as he eased himself into the seat, a grimace fixing itself on his face for a few seconds. Yep.... that feels about right. Finally comfortable, or as close as he was likely to get, Gary reclined in the seat, smiling at his new neighbor.

"It would seem that there is a rather diverse crowd in attendance. How goes it in New Dornalia these days? I haven't been there for years."

Gary Wind walked into the contestant's box, glad to finally be rid of that irksome entourage. Why did Halsey bring those two? Nikola and Sandy were a charming pair, but there was definitely a limit to how much exposure to them he could take in a day. Cane clicking on the floor, he strode up to the line of seats that had been set up for this occasion, grabbing one next to Lenina Zhao.

His joints creaked as he eased himself into the seat, a grimace fixing itself on his face for a few seconds. Yep.... that feels about right. Finally comfortable, or as close as he was likely to get, Gary reclined in the seat, smiling at his new neighbor.

"It would seem that there is a rather diverse crowd in attendance. How goes it in New Dornalia these days? I haven't been there for years."

Lenina said, turning to Gary and nodding before looking back at the Stratocaster and cradling it, plucking a few blue notes silently, looking back at him every so often: "Oh. Well, the war's been putting a damper on things. We've had to cancel the annual Spartakiade, the Acolytes and the Regulars need all the men they can get. Meanwhile, the economists are fretting about the civilian economy, what with the minor downturn caused by the New Wuhan Massacre. Militarily, we're fine otherwise, though it wouldn't kill us to have a real victory. And as for musicians, I can say with sadness that one of New Dornalia's greatest rockers, The Turnabouts, was edged out by a catgirl and pop 'musician'--I use the term loosely--Joon-Li Alavares, for Best Single of the Year. Ah well, the Turnabouts are an album band."

She then said, tapping the guitar to bring the point home and looking at him: "The press at home says I'm some kind of morale booster. Wasn't aware I had that much responsibility; I'm just a low level Commie Jedi with a hardened steel guitar--I'm not into politics, myself."

She then began whistling...she wasn't used to having odd people talk to her. She was in the zone, and eager to fight.

the primarch stood up an walked to gary wind by the god emeperor it's an endorsian

Feel lucky you ain't dealin with more politics, lass.

"If you win, the people will celebrate your 'great triumph over the best warriors these nations could muster together,' or some similar political spin. Never understood the morale boost the general people get when someone is just doing their job. But I've been on this side too long to have good perspective. Wish this damn tourney would go ahead and get started though."

He smirked as the Sephrion approached, nodding knowingly. "Speaking of politics, looks like Sephrioth has decided to weigh in on this one. How goes life in Sephrioth?"

the usual wars here and thier even the space marines are oversteched

he grined the names shadow the primarch of the shadow angels legoin of space marines of the imperium

i hope my opponant is not too weak

With the dust settling from the exhilirating battle, Ezekiel Rosh was proclaimed winner and thus moving on to the second round within the tournament.

The next two contestants would be the champions from New Dornalia and Ri-an.

(consider it a formal announcement for you two.)

At this, Lenina got up, brushed her hair aside, slung the guitar onto her back, and said nonchalantly, "Well, it's time for me to get going." She said nothing more than that; there was no room for any thoughts of failure, and she was in performance mode--a state of mind where nobody could reach her until she was done either sparring or finishing the set she was scheduled to play.

Walking out onto the battlefield, she removed her guitar from her back. Tuning it up, she played a few notes, before letting the heavy instrument rest, the strap around her neck holding it up emblazoned with any number of good luck charms, well wishes, that the people at the Temple had inscribed onto it. She stood, waiting for her challenger. With a thousand yard stare, she eagerly scanned the field, looking to see who she had to fight, aided by a sense of intution, unenhanced per tournament rules, but rather simple combat alertness. Lenina was suspicious, examining all the possible entrances, and wondering where the foe was, with quick glances around the field and the cupping of ear.

Deuce hopped down from the stands, stretched, and simultainiously strteched and cracked every bone and joint in his body.
He reached into his pockets, and pulled out his brass knuckles.

"This is gonna be fun. Haven't been this excoted since I took the championship from King Rex in the Saurus wrestling League."

He adopted a stance that could lend itself to either fighting or busting out a fly series of dance moves.

"Good Luck." he said to Lenina

Deuce hopped down from the stands, stretched, and simultainiously strteched and cracked every bone and joint in his body.
He reached into his pockets, and pulled out his brass knuckles.

"This is gonna be fun. Haven't been this excoted since I took the championship from King Rex in the Saurus wrestling League."

He adopted a stance that could lend itself to either fighting or busting out a fly series of dance moves.

"Good Luck." he said to Lenina

Lenina looked at Deuce for a second, and then frowned at him. Who was this clown? If there was anything that made her wretch more than Sith, it was...disco. She was a rocker through and through, and the idea of fighting some Seventies wannabe wasn't all that appetizing, though it would give her a chance to prove the superiority of rock and roll. Still, she reasoned, anything could happen; this guy looked like he knew his stuff.

Lenina merely replied, unslinging her guitar, holding it like a spear, and prepping her body to make a lunge: "Thanks; I should say the same about those duds. Did they move up Halloween without telling me?"

Lenina looked at Deuce for a second, and then frowned at him. Who was this clown? If there was anything that made her wretch more than Sith, it was...disco. She was a rocker through and through, and the idea of fighting some Seventies wannabe wasn't all that appetizing, though it would give her a chance to prove the superiority of rock and roll. Still, she reasoned, anything could happen; this guy looked like he knew his stuff.

Lenina merely replied, unslinging her guitar, holding it like a spear, and prepping her body to make a lunge: "Thanks; I should say the same about those duds. Did they move up Halloween without telling me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But that's beside the point. Nice Ax, hope you gotta spare."

Deuce would not, and could not strike the first Blow it was against his Morals, his upbringing, and even if it being a friendly fight, he still couldn't bring himself to do it.

"As a matter of fact, yes. But that's beside the point. Nice Ax, hope you gotta spare."

Deuce would not, and could not strike the first Blow it was against his Morals, his upbringing, and even if it being a friendly fight, he still couldn't bring himself to do it.

Lenina noticed he wasn't going to move and make the first strike. So it was up to her. Without another word, she immediately charged in with a battlecry towards Deuce, and then lept forward with a jump kick. Still holding her guitar in the manner of a spear, she eventually planned to fake him out by making a charge and then swinging the adamantine instrument, potentially delivering a nasty blow with the body. Still, it was up to him now to make the next move, and determine the course...

Lenina noticed he wasn't going to move and make the first strike. So it was up to her. Without another word, she immediately charged in with a battlecry towards Deuce, and then lept forward with a jump kick. Still holding her guitar in the manner of a spear, she eventually planned to fake him out by making a charge and then swinging the adamantine instrument, potentially delivering a nasty blow with the body. Still, it was up to him now to make the next move, and determine the course...

Satisfied and able to now fight back, Deuce did just the opposite, and moonwalked away from her, then he spun to the side, spun once more in place, and delivered a very hard blow to her side, via a roundhouse kick.

Satisfied and able to now fight back, Deuce did just the opposite, and moonwalked away from her, then he spun to the side, spun once more in place, and delivered a very hard blow to her side, via a roundhouse kick.

Lenina tumbled over; the pain hurt some, but it was nothing she couldn't handle for now. Crying out, "Dance to this tune, bitch!" she got up, and quickly after, then swung her guitar at Deuce, ensuring it drove home into his shins.

Lenina tumbled over; the pain hurt some, but it was nothing she couldn't handle for now. Crying out, "Dance to this tune, bitch!" she got up, and quickly after, then swung her guitar at Deuce, ensuring it drove home into his shins.

His Divine Aura shimmered around him as the guitar violated his personal space, but there was a satisfying crack as the instrument and the shins connected. Deuce, in response, danced on the tips of his toes.

"Okay. I can dance in any style. By your request, obviously classical dance is more your style." He said. Then he gave her an uppercut directly on her throat, aiming to cause her Esophagus to temporaily shut and cut off her air supply. Should this work, he would then continue to punch and kick her while she was down, in all of her most vulnerable areas.

His Divine Aura shimmered around him as the guitar violated his personal space, but there was a satisfying crack as the instrument and the shins connected. Deuce, in response, danced on the tips of his toes.

"Okay. I can dance in any style. By your request, obviously classical dance is more your style." He said. Then he gave her an uppercut directly on her throat, aiming to cause her Esophagus to temporaily shut and cut off her air supply. Should this work, he would then continue to punch and kick her while she was down, in all of her most vulnerable areas.

The punch connected, and she was knocked back. Lenina checked her breathing....it was fine, though not very good for the moment, as her neck hurt like a mother and it hurt to get air through there right about now. Dizzied by the hit, she decided to get this bastard back. Aiming for the solar plexus, she used her guitar as a spear, slamming the area as hard as possible to try and knock him down, or at the least, knock the wind out of him.

"Mary had a little lamb. A little lamb. A little-" the /humanoid/ coughed. His throat was sore. His tongue ached and scrapped against the sides of his teeth when he tried to talk.

Again - the /hierophant's/ thought pushed through the soft bubble of his mind, a cold, unemotional hand forcing his body to respond. The creature floated over where he stretched prone on the fleshy /sense-node-touch/.

"Whose fleece was white as snow," the /humanoid/ had never seen snow, "I'm getting better?" he asked.

The /hierophant/ twitched one of the rubbery tentacles around its mouth. For a moment, the /humanoid/ thought he saw its black, liquid eye roll in irritation, but it must have been the red light shimmering off the iris. The /hierophants/ were unfailingly emotionless.

Skill : Improve. Improve more? You must. - the /humanoid/ nodded his head as the message bubbled into his brain. The kesshii race communicated telepathically, but it must converse with a universe of creatures that relied on symbolic vocalizations. As a /humanoid/ he lacked much of the physical and psychic might of other kesshii but his genetic strain gave him a mouth capable of a wide range of noises while his /sub-mind/ naturally leaned toward abstractions.

"What are these ones like?" he asked. Genetic inclination or not, talking was difficult. He often has to pause a moment as he gathered up the correct bunches of sounds and patterns necessary for the most simple of sentences. The /sense-node-touch/ reverberated with his words, absorbing them then echoing them with slight adjustments in volume, speed, or beat.

The only response was a mental nudge. The /hierophant/ had heard and understood him but had no answer.

He sighed, settling back with his palms pressed against his chest.

"It followed her to school one day, school one day, school one day..."

Deep below the /humanoid/ the ship's systems pulsed in faint, red lights. The lower levels were hotter, wetter, and seemed to quiver with life so close to the ship's heart.

A /rook/ paced. It's /lower-mind/ felt frantic. This was not home. This was not its territory. This was not den. This was not womb. This was unknown. As it paced, its six legs sank into the yielding, muscular floor. Not at all like the fine, sandy gravel of home. The /rook's/ senses were bombarded with the unfamiliar, the unknown. It's oculars twitched constantly in search of danger. The other kesshii that crawled, swam, and slithered the lower levels were met with angry growls when they approached.

The /rook/ was being taken somewhere. Somewhere other. It was to fight there. This made no sense to it. It was born and bred to protect the hives, the larvae, the den mothers, and the drone workers.

Confusion churned in its cranium.

And the ship it was in entered the D'Haran System in utter calm and silence.

The punch connected, and she was knocked back. Lenina checked her breathing....it was fine, though not very good for the moment, as her neck hurt like a mother and it hurt to get air through there right about now. Dizzied by the hit, she decided to get this bastard back. Aiming for the solar plexus, she used her guitar as a spear, slamming the area as hard as possible to try and knock him down, or at the least, knock the wind out of him.

Its a rarely known fact, but still a fact that if you hit a Man hard enough in that spot, they will just simply die. Deuce didn't die, but he was doubled over in pain.

"That ain't right yo, that ain't right." he said. his voice was high and squeeky.

Its a rarely known fact, but still a fact that if you hit a Man hard enough in that spot, they will just simply die. Deuce didn't die, but he was doubled over in pain.

"That ain't right yo, that ain't right." he said. his voice was high and squeeky.

Lenina stopped for a bit to breathe, and then retorted weakly, "Well, one could say your little throat punch...done incorrectly...could do the same...."

She then took the opportunity to attack his vitals when he was down, shoudering her guitar and then stomping on them with her foot furiously, before giving the man a German suplex. She didn't expect this guy to keep talking after a hit to the solar plexus, and frankly, she wanted to incapacitate him, pronto.

Lenina stopped for a bit to breathe, and then retorted weakly, "Well, one could say your little throat punch...done incorrectly...could do the same...."

She then took the opportunity to attack his vitals when he was down, shoudering her guitar and then stomping on them with her foot furiously, before giving the man a German suplex. She didn't expect this guy to keep talking after a hit to the solar plexus, and frankly, she wanted to incapacitate him, pronto.

And if he were an ordinary man, that might incpapacitate him.

he curled up into the Fetal position for a moment, then he rose to his feet. He was a completly diffrent person. The Chaos was burning in his eyes. This was the kind of Chaos that flowed from Khorn, God of War.

Deuce cracked his knuckles, and unleashed a fury of assults, any care or regard he had for life was completly gone.

Order of attack: Chest, aiming to crack ribs and collapse lungs, possibly puncture them. Then he went for a back breaker, to break her spine, and permanently paralyze her.

OOC: More in my next post. In order to either win, or knock him back to a more reasonable state of mind, you'll need a very strong attack, to the head.

Lenina was horrified and surprised by this turn of events. It was turning into a goddamn boss fight, and frankly she was wondering what kind of tricks this guy had on him besides this. The massive series of retaliatory strikes that followed her attacks were only made bearable by rolling with the chest strike and then leaping out of the way to avoid the backbreaker move, swinging her guitar into his chest again. She then lept forth against him, swinging with a horizontal cutting strike that struck him in the throat.

Deuce did the splits and ducked beneath the Guitar Then sent a very hard punch towards her stomach. With his other hand he put it on the ground leaned on to it, and swung his legs around to knock her off her feet, moments after the punch.

Ulrich, meanwhile, had succeeded in falling asleep in his armour.

Deuce did the splits and ducked beneath the Guitar Then sent a very hard punch towards her stomach. With his other hand he put it on the ground leaned on to it, and swung his legs around to knock her off her feet, moments after the punch.

Lenina threw her guitar to the ground and moved to meet Deuce's roundhouse with a quick, if tenous grab of his feet. She then began grabbing his legs as hard as she possibly could, wrapping her arms around them and breathing hard to hold tight. Throwing him down with great force afterwards, she lept onto his back, and began slamming his face up and down onto the ground repeatedly with great force, rubbing it on the floor. This wasn't the most dignified way to fight--in fact, it was more at home with a schoolyard bully than a martial arts master--but it was time to fight dirty now...

Lenina threw her guitar to the ground and moved to meet Deuce's roundhouse with a quick, if tenous grab of his feet. She then began grabbing his legs as hard as she possibly could, wrapping her arms around them and breathing hard to hold tight. Throwing him down with great force afterwards, she lept onto his back, and began slamming his face up and down onto the ground repeatedly with great force, rubbing it on the floor. This wasn't the most dignified way to fight--in fact, it was more at home with a schoolyard bully than a martial arts master--but it was time to fight dirty now...

Deuce Elbowed her in the gut and rolled over. then her grabbed her neck, and began choking the life out of her, squeezing tightly. No amount of kicks, no amount of punches would convince him to let go. If she wanted to live, she would have to kill him, or he would kill her. It was a mistake to throw her guitar to the ground, he lifted her up off the ground away from her guitar.

But, she could see it, as the audience could due to their higher perspective, He was literally physicaly fading away, he was already dying. Surely a good swift kick could finish him off.

Deuce Elbowed her in the gut and rolled over. then her grabbed her neck, and began choking the life out of her, squeezing tightly. No amount of kicks, no amount of punches would convince him to let go. If she wanted to live, she would have to kill him, or he would kill her. It was a mistake to throw her guitar to the ground, he lifted her up off the ground away from her guitar.

But, she could see it, as the audience could due to their higher perspective, He was literally physicaly fading away, he was already dying. Surely a good swift kick could finish him off.

And this she did. Kicking furiously at his chest, using her left hand and biting furiously to try and resist the deathgrip, and punching the offending enemy arm with her right, she eventually summoned a swift, furious kick to the man's groin with all her remaining might, desperate to get out of this potentially fatal situation...

And this she did. Kicking furiously at his chest, using her left hand and biting furiously to try and resist the deathgrip, and punching the offending enemy arm with her right, she eventually summoned a swift, furious kick to the man's groin with all her remaining might, desperate to get out of this potentially fatal situation...

Thunder clapped and she fell to the ground, his body became pure energy and spirited away, flying through space to his Musical temple on Ri-an.

Deuce had lost. but part of it lanced through her, curing her wounds, mending her bones, and generally, restoring her health. then it too disappeared.

Thunder clapped and she fell to the ground, his body became pure energy and spirited away, flying through space to his Musical temple on Ri-an.

Deuce had lost. but part of it lanced through her, curing her wounds, mending her bones, and generally, restoring her health. then it too disappeared.

Stumbling back up, Lenina looked deliriously at the audience, raising her hands in a Nixon-style "victory salute," before crying out with a cry of "Shibby!" before falling down, tired from her experience. She had bested this foe, and was grateful to make it out alive. She was still concious, and took the chance to take a well deserved, deep breath.

Gary Wind looked down at Lenina, smiling a little. It had been a dirty fight, but a definite victory. Lucky girl, hope she'll make it. As she was led off the field, he began a leisurely stroll down to the arena floor, cane clicking on the floor. He knew nothing about his upcoming opponent, but already a dozen plans flew through his mind, analyzing any and every outcome he could think of.

Finally, he moved into the edge of the ring, shedding his shirt on the sidelines, revealing powerful frame ravaged by injury and age. It was a gruesome sight to see, deep scars covered almost every inch of his body. A storm of whispers shot through the stands, no one quite sure what to think of this ancient newcomer. Wind began to stretch, warming his aging muscles in the bright sunlight, joints audibly popping into place. Satisfied, he bent down to pick up his cane, carrying it to the center of the ring, approaching his opponent.

"My name is Gary Wind. Let's put on a good show."

ooc is it me ya fightin ne

Medical teams were there to quickly help any fallen or injured participant. Lenina was carried off the arena floors and sent to her room where her wounds could be addressed and she could rest as long as she needed it. No one had to worry about missing the fight as there were live holo-feeds within every room.

Kahlan made her way to the front of the stand. "An excellent first round." Her statement was met with applause by the Rangers sitting behind her.

"We now move onto the second round for some of our champions. Gary Wind of the Inferno shall now fight Ezekiel Rosh."

ooc is it me ya fightin ne
ooc: I'm against Azaha right now I think.

ooc: I'm against Azaha right now I think.

gotcha

Medical teams were there to quickly help any fallen or injured participant. Lenina was carried off the arena floors and sent to her room where her wounds could be addressed and she could rest as long as she needed it. No one had to worry about missing the fight as there were live holo-feeds within every room.

Kahlan made her way to the front of the stand. "An excellent first round." Her statement was met with applause by the Rangers sitting behind her.

"We now move onto the second round for some of our champions. Gary Wind of the Inferno shall now fight Ezekiel Rosh."

Lenina was glad to rest--something out there cured her wounds, and how. Otherwise, she was still dead tired. She saw the next fight, and now, she quickly realized the man she had talked to earlier was going to fight.

She then turned to one of the orderlies, and asked, "What happened to my guitar?"

Rosh to stepped into the ring at the same moment as his opponent. However his demeanor was quite different. He seemed to be paying more attention to the crowd than his opponent, his eyes darting to and fro scanning the crowds. Only 5 minutes ago was he carousing the crowd, seemingly getting a good look at everybody.

When he finally made it to the center of the ring, he looked at his opponent finally, and gave a slight look of disbelief. The man was certainly old, but Ezekiel was not new to the phrase 'looks can be decieving'.

"Very well, Elder." He made a slow gesturing motion to the man. "Age before beauty." Rosh cracked a smile of dirty yellow teeth, his beard full of random debris.

Wind nodded and grinned, wiping dust out of his snowy beard. "I'm far too old to make the first strike." He began drawing a line with the end of his cane in the dust before him. "I've left that job to the new generation. In the name of giving the crowd a good show I throw down the gauntlet. Cross this line."

He took two steps back and entered a fighting stance, cane held level before him. His muscles complained, slow to remember their former glory, but his mind was already steeled against this foe.

Already he could feel the hush fall over the crowd, the uncertainty they felt at this old man. He relished it, allowing the emotions to flow through every corner of his body. In their uncertainty, he would find victory. He had only to hold this man off. Nothing more.

Ezekiel cracked his neck. The mark wasn't falling for the bait, and it seemed the tables had turned ever so slightly. He would have stood there all day until the old man got bored and made the first move, but he was in a slight bind for time.

Rosh snapped into a sloppy fighting stance, his ragged fatigues rustling off bits of dirt and uneaten crumbs of food. He struck the classic "Boxer" pose, and inched forward, his feet constantly moving, his body slightly bobbing to either side in irregular instances, so there was no rythm.

He closed the distance rather quickly, making it to the line drawn in the sand. He hesitated for a split second, before having his feet pass the line. However, Rosh quickly withdrew his feet and body, and with the same swiftness, shot a long arched punch high on the old man, aiming for the top of the head. It left him horribly exposed for how much he was stretched out, but he hoped the gambled fake out would work to even his slightest advantage.

Wind smiled. Agressive, this one. He barely ducked the punch, muscles screaming in protest, and lightly tapped his opponent on the side with his cane. Quickly withdrawing a few steps, he regained his fighting position, ready for the next attack to come, brushing dust from his eyes. "Come now. You called me an Elder earlier. Yet I'm still fast enough to match you. Let's give the crowd its fair share."

He extended the cane slightly, tapping it on the ground. The hush over the stadium was crushing, the heat equally oppressive. The dust seemed everywhere, in his face, on his cane, in his beard, the intense sunlight kicking up a small fog around the two competitors. Wind began circling, watching his opponents footwork, ready for a second strike at any moment.

Rosh withdrew to himself quickly. He did not mind looking like an idiot, it was a valuable learning experiance to him. The cane of the old man's was surely an advantage, one that seemed so idiotic to overlook earlier. It was simply an advantage that would have to be nuetralized.

Crouching back slightly, he built up power in his legs, then dashed two steps before stepping off into a leap, his powerful legs propelling him quickly through the air.

Ezekiel aimed slightly to the left of the man. He hoped to force his opponent right. If he did not make contact with his already powerful and swift power attack, he would step off quickly again from his landing spot and thrust himself to the right where the old man would hopefully, and most likely be forced dodged to.

The old man was beckoning him into attacking every time. A simple obstacle to over come. Constantly press the attack, give no rest, no time for the old man to recoil and prepare for another barrage of attacks. A simple matter of throwing him off his feet, figuratively and quite literally if he could.

Lenina was glad to rest--something out there cured her wounds, and how. Otherwise, she was still dead tired. She saw the next fight, and now, she quickly realized the man she had talked to earlier was going to fight.

She then turned to one of the orderlies, and asked, "What happened to my guitar?"

One of the field doctors, a man, had taken care of weapons for all the champions within the tournament. "It has been locked a way in a secured area. Your guitar will be returned to you once you are fit to enter the arena again. Or, if you prefer we can have it brought here to your room."

the primarch stuudied his oppenants he muttered to himself watch out for the endorsian

Wind continued to circle, watching his opponent closely. Come on.... come on.... com-OH SHIT! He visibly started as Rosh leaped towards him, shoulder barreling straight at his head. Wind ducked on instinct, trying to get as close to the dirt floor of the arena as possible. Anything to get beneath the center of mass of this guy.

However, the unfortunate fact of the matter is that men, lacking star drives, are limited to gravitational acceleration as they fall to earth. This fact was made ever so acutely apparent as Rosh's knee connected with Gary's nose, the force of the charge concentrated on one delicate piece of cartilage. Wind rocked back hard, spurting blood, Rosh's momentum carrying him past and onto the ground beyond.

Gary's muscles screamed in protest as he rolled away, blood dripping down his face and into the packed earth. The dust was everywhere, soaking his blood, clinging to his face, but he had to get up and face this man down. But as he scrambled to his feet, his cane was gone. But a quick glance showed it to be twirling about in the hands of his enemy.

"So, you finally noticed my advantage, did you Rosh?" He spat on his arm, wiping at his eyes to clear them, circling at a distance. "The crowd looks bored!" He edged forward, keeping a low fighting stance.

shadow glared