NationStates Jolt Archive

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A Message to All Interested…

Applications for the third Combat and Defensive tournament will be held within the city of Nakros Eimunn today, an outer city state within the Tsellian representative of Jenrak. Applications of interest are to provide their own transportation to the city, and arrive at the central town quarters for further information. We will soon be providing information regarding the prize for victory within this fighting tournament. We will now provide an image of the location.

An image flashed upon the broadcast, showing a fairly reasonably well taken photograph of a large, tall behemoth of a structure, a pillar with a knife-like top that shimmered with deadly architecture. It was a shining beacon of oddity within the sand-blasted desert, the large roads twisting and winding like snakes in the background as concrete shells of the massive corporate buildings shined – yet this building struck out. It was shaped like an upside down ribcage, its bones crackling and emerging with deathly accuracy and structural integrity, stabbing almost defiantly into the sky with utmost viciousness. It’s outer edges were shimmering with an obsidian glaze, glass adorning its airy entrails like some sort of glistening gutted fish laying as a massive monument.

The tournament prize will be a job as the lieutenant of the VizithKanju, a strike force with an occupation that pays well over 100,000 per yea starting. Applicants interested please report to the main office in the provided image of the structure we had just shown for physical testing.

Finally, only a small image was splintered upon the screen; 442 Main Mnehel Road. Nakros Eimunn.

Jordan Reicker pulled the scarf tight around his neck and folded the edges inside his coat. As he walked down the street, he contemplated the city around him, comparing it to his previous residence. Bit like Esmund, but with that......thing.

He pulled up at his sleeve and looked at the crude note he wrote for himself, before entering the building. A quick survey of the foyer allowed him to find out where the main office was.

As soon as he entered, he asked to the receptionist, "I'm here to enter the tournament."

Akiragone Charkyo, for all intents and purposes, simply... appeared... before the receptionist.

in truth, he'd simply walked in the door, but he was good at not being noticed when he wanted.

reguardless, the poor woman behind the desk got quite a fright when she looked up to find him standing Right There, weapon slung across his back.

"ahh!" she jumped, before recovering her composure "umm... can i help you?"

Akira reached into one of several inside pockets in his jacket and produced... a pen. "the tournament. I'd like to enter, if i may." he smiled gently, "i assume there are forms i must fill? that tends to be the way of things." he spun the pen between his figures "or... if this tournament is so unusual that there are not, simply pointing me in the right direction will be fine" his expression didn't change, and yet somehow that smile intensified.

Kaza was medidating in the Grand Hall of Warriors. It was here where he was at most peace and came here whenver he was troubled or just needed to relax. As he sat the large iron doors in front of him slowly opened. Kaza opened his eyes. Before him strode in an old man of about 70 dressed in armour and he was accompanied by 10 Warrior Guards. The old man was Furmarn Gruny, Leader of the Warriors of the Blade.

"Ahh Kaza. I see you have been meditating as usual." The old man smiled.

"Yes Sir. It helps me relax in times when I am worried. May I ask why you have graced me with your presence?" inquired Kaza.

Furmarn looked at Kaza. Kaza was one of the best warriors he had ever trained and now it was time for him to prove himself.

"Young Kaza. For a long time you have yearned for the chance to prove to the world your skills and now you have the chance. A tournament is going to be occuring in Jenrak, specifically the city of Nakros Eimunn. The prize is to become a lieutenant within the VizithKanju. They are a very well respected group who can teach you much more than you know. You are going to participate in this tournament. I have already arrnaged transportation for you and you will leave within the hour. Go get your things together."

"Thank you for this opportunity Sir." Kaza was amazed he had been chosen to attend the tournament. Now he would show the world what he could do.

Arrival in Jenrak

Kaza was tired. The trip had taken a while but he still needed to sign up officially for the tournament. He went into the office where he had to sign up.

"Hello there.", he said to the receptionist. "I am here to sign up for the tournament. My name is Kaza Fuze."

"Hello Mr Fuze. Welcome to Jenrak. You are signed up and will receive further information in a while. Please sit down while you wait." The receptionist said.

As the word of the tournament reached agent 3's ears he was drawn to it. He wanted to win this tournament not only for himself, but for his people, for his honor. Agent 3 readied his armor and weapons for the tourny. It was sure to be challenging, but for agent 3 only in his most challenged state was he at his best. Life as an Agent was a life lead by discipline and honor, training and honing ones abilities. Agent 3 was good at what he did. He surpassed most of his rivals, gaining him the ranks of 3. An Honor that was held by a few. As he finished his packing he left for Jenrak, for the tournament.

On the way to the tournament on board his personnel aircraft he trained in his senses, mediating, and practicing his skills. His meditation room aboard the craft was dark... and quite. Agent 3 could hear ever sound made by his heart and muscles. He could hear the coursing of blood that ran through his veins. Small targets stood around him holding swords placed on a random timing generator which would make the swords fall at any given moment at the same time. But still he just sat waiting listening. As the moments passed the swords came down upon him with the force of 30 swordsmen. With a quick pull of his sword he put it up into the air blocking the swords as they came down. His eyes ...still closed he took a second sword in almost a fluid motion to his first sword sliced the polls holding the dummies up. The dummies fell one by one as the objects inertia ended and they lost balance.

Then they arrived.....

Gengur sat down in the quietness of his mind, smiling as he watched the rustling of the fighters, each small and large, all wanting a prize at the voluptuous position. It was easy money, and money for life, it seemed, as he chuckled slightly, safely hidden in regular clothing to prevent any form of scene. He was moderately well disguised, though he never did seem to get a hang of the practice. Wearing a simple mahogany shaded sweater with a long, draping set of pants, he chuckled slightly with enthusiasm as he stood up, walking along the guard rail as he studied them closely.

"They all look so strong and powerful." He said, smiling with excitement, as if he were looking at slabs of meat; and to him, that's what they seemed to be. Beside him, significantly taller than he, was a handsome, cold faced man with a long silvery braid in his hair draped in a golden casing. His face was stern, proper and shimmering with an icy aura, a long, obsidian sheath of a nihonto-shaped sword hidden tightly beneath his long, elegant and lowing silvery robes. He was what his uniform, as beautiful and distinguishing as it was - a Menekrungo Vizithkanju, staring at the waves from the guard rail above them, his eyes observing with interest.

"These men will provide a very good analysis for the fighting stances used within the world. And a means to break them." The man said - Sekai Hamruun, with a cold, shivering voice of merciless disruption. Gengur merely smiled once more.

"I believe they're all fine men and women, and we'll be able to see whom is the most capable." Gengur said, his hair slightly ruffling as a fan behind him blew a small gust of chilly wind into his maroon, sand-like hair. "The announcement should be on sometime soon." He said, walking off, preparing his uniform.

Within the office, an announcement rang loudly; All participants please go to the back of the building to the backyard for a debriefing and information.

Standing outside, atop a steel platform in the center of the emerald plains, was Gengur Ushuimaru, his sword dangling at his waist by a silver chain, his uniform long and billowing with beauty, his smile apparent as he waited. At his back, wings of swords were visible, shining with everlasting rays of the sunshine, his face fair and rounded well, much like a child. Yet he was, undoubtly, Gengur Ushuimaru - the seventh Captain of the Menekruno Vizithkanju, and he was waiting. "Now, let's see how many show up."

Akira drifted in the direction indicated, a sort of relaxed and steady progress of the type that no one really notices unless they're looking for it, as it were.

a few thoughts were running through his mind. actually, on various levels, Lots of thoughts were running through his mind. ways of improving what he'd seen of the local infrastructure on his way in, military tactics, the rough ideas of designs for new war-ships and combat vehicles, the beginnings of ideas for a story or two, perhaps a novel if he strung them together...

all that aside, however, at the uppermost levels of his mind he was wondering at how lax the entry process had been, given the prize, and keeping an eye on his surroundings. in fact, as he approached the designated location, the other thoughts running through his mind were pushed aside and filed for later, or so he hoped, and he dedicated his mind to attempting to figure out the logic behind this tournament.

he, at least, was here because any job he could actually Do was better than all the others that he was either incapable of or unqualified for, and the opportunity to test his abilities, and perhaps learn some useful things. others would have their own reasons, he was sure.

but the question that kept coming back was "what was the reason for holding the tournament in the first place?" the obvious was that given.. a need for a new officer of some sort... but in that situation, wouldn't it be best to make sure those who would be involved were qualified in whatever other ways were relevant First? after all, in such tournaments there was a very real risk of injury. what good would it be if the one who won were incapable of any other parts of the job?

shaking his head and discarding the line of thought, he arrived at the designated location and the conclusion that he'd just have to wait and see.

Ikkou had arrived at the oddly designed building, the one that looked like it was the work of a former surgeon turned engineer who'd taken a few too many courses in abstract art and a bit too much acid before coming up with the blueprints, just as the intercom that requested all participants to proceed to the backyard. With the high collar of his cloak obscuring much of his face, the receptionist was met with a somewhat shapeless body surmounted by a pair of eyes that appeared to have been carved out of glacial ice and short black hair.

"I wish to register, and from the sounds of things, I must proceed to the backyard. Oh, and I am Ikkou Maydarme." He stated before turning and proceeding toward the backyard of the building.

His motivation was quite simple, he was not here as an aspirant for the position but for practice and to decide where it was practical or necessary to bother learning the final form of his style.

Captain Wall, leader of the personal guard of Lord Sumguy, smiled as he read the annnouncment for a tournament. Finally, a challenge of his abilities. He immediately went to his Lord to ask permission, and it was granted. He was by far the best fighter among the 30,000 strong Royal Guard, and no others within the guard could hope to match him. He did not expect to win the tournament, nor would he accept the position if he did, as his loyalties lay with the Holy Empire, but it was enough to participate and learn from the best in the world. He flew on a private jet to the nation holding the tournament. When he arrived, he traveled by car to the tournament location. He entered the building, walked up to the reception desk, and said: "I am here for the fighting tournament."

Kaza heard the announcement. Too many he looked like he was sleeping but he was meditating. He wanted to focus his mind on the task ahead knowing it would be one of the toughest challenges he had ever faced. He rose from his seat and calmly made his way towards the gathering area. As he walked he took in all the details he could of the building, albeit subconciously. Londims Warriors were trained to do this from the age of 2 and this skill had saved many peoples lives.

However the prominent thought on Kaza's mind was why had this been so simple so far? If a high place within an army was being contested then surely checks would need to be made on all contestants.

"Oh well, whatever floats their boat.", Kaza muttered.

Gengur smiled, as he watched the large mass of fighters from all over the world gather, a hive and a swarm like none other he had seen before. At the side of the backyard fields, there were large steel pillar-shaped structures, banging heard from within. He nodded appreciatively at the large number that had already amassed there. His mouth to the microphone, he spoke into it with a strong sense of conviction. "Welcome to the Occupational Combative Tournament of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju." Gengur replied, smiling from his platform, donning his uniform.

He was a somewhat medium height man, with a young, boyish face, yet as his collar bone was visible, a series of odd cuts and wounds were see seeping just slightly out of the silver robes he was wearing. There was more to him than met the eye, though it was obvious he did not want them to know. On his eyelids were tattoos of eyes, drawn so beautifully and meticulously that they seemed to give an illusion that he never closed his eyes. His shoulder carried a long sash that was printed with a large black '7' splash across the plane, his arms dipped deep into his giant sleeves as only his tipmost fingers were visible. Atop his head was a mat of sandy mud-colored, messy and unkempt, slightly long yet not billowing. He had some sort of oriental properties, such as his thin eyes and difficult-to-see bone structure. He was, after all, a Jagite.

"My name is Gengur Itai Ushuimaru. I have no worries on how you address me. I am the seventh Menekrungo Vizithkanju, and I am very happy to see so many people here today. For such a large mass of fighters, you have all been very quiet, disciplined and orderly towards the receptionists, as I have been told, so I thank you. Therefore, I return, I will let us play a little game first, to see who is allowed and who is not within the tournament." He raised his arms, as the pillars began to clatter slightly, screaming and rip-roaring loud cries heard from behind them.

"You might notice that you were not asked your name, registration, country or origin, none of those things. I believe that is not necessary for two reasons." He raised up two fingers. "One, in a real fight your most difficult enemies are enemies you have no prior knowledge about, as well as enemies who are staunch enigmas of their own personalities and accomplishments. As such, gathering information will not help you grow or apply what you may learn here as applicable in the violent, violent world. Secondly, I should be able to handle remembering all of the participants in this tournament because a majority of you will be dealt with immediately." He nodded, as the steel pillars opened.

From inside, hordes of bloodthirsty, gargantuan men with knives, swords, maces and all the manner of weapons were being brandished, their eyes desperate and their teeth clenched in preparation, outnumbering the fighters participating by at least six to one. Gengur spoke into the microphone again. "Here I have the most vicious 6,000 criminals within the Jenrakian criminal records. I have promised freedom to them if they can kill every single fighter here. I believe the task is simple. Should the fighters win, the remaining fighters will be considered entrants in the tournament. Should the criminals win, then I will be very disappointed."

Before Gengur could give any signal of beginning, the criminals rushed, their weapons brandished. However, they did not move like a horde, much more like an unkempt militia; unorganized, though nowhere undisciplined or without a clue of what they were doing. Although it was somewhat basic, they had an idea of what they were trying to achieve. At the forefront, they rushed ,their swords brandished, their weapons raised high spiked in rusty blood, the stench of sweat and anticipation filling up in the air.

Captain Wall stood motionless, waiting for the men to approach. When they got within reach, he began swinging his massive sword. Once he sarted, he did not stop, and he moved slowly forward, using his own momentum to keep swinging, with quick, fluid, unceasing slashes at anyone in front of him. His sword stuck into one man as it cleaved halfway through his ribcage, and the Captain dropped his sword. He could not retreive his weapon, as there were several men within close proximity of him, so he began using the 10-pound spiked gauntlets he was wearing to catch and deflect weapons, and deliver blows that shattered bones, until he could reach his sword once more.

Riker smiled as the horde rushed towards him. From a small bag concealed under his coat, he launched several hundred small, highly polished pebbles onto the ground in front of him. The first man that approached him with a mace took a swing that was rendered horribly inaccurate by his stumbling on the small stones. From under his coat he produced his sword-a small but heavy blade that resembled a gladius. In one fluid motion he embedded the weapon in the man's stomach and pulled the blade up to his sternum. Then, quickly sliding his fingers into the knuckle rings of the shank-- the small dagger that would rest on his left hand, Riker fell to the ground, cutting another man's hamstring. Removing the sword from the first man's chest, Riker brought it down hard onto another man's skull, sending fragments of skull and brain everywhere. He then lifted his left leg high in the air and delivered a powerful finishing kick to the skull of the man he hamstrung.

As a man leveled a battleaxe on Riker, he quickly ran into the man with such force that he dropped the axe. Riker stepped back a bit while hugging the man with his right hand and drove his shank into the man's kidney. Continuing to hold the man close, he threw one of his daggers into the back of one of the criminals a distance away. Then, quickly pushing away his human shield, Riker moved into the mass. First, he stabbed a man to the left in the femoral artery with his shank and then hamstrung another man before launching into a barrel roll. He embedded his sword deep into the stomach of one of the criminals, leaving it there briefly, as he picked up and sheathed the dagger and recovered his sword.

Noticing that a circle was forming around him, he threw his sword into the chest of one of the men and promptly took another in a half-nelson, using his shank to fend off attackers from behind.

Kaza watched with patience as the horde approached. He entered the Warrior Mind. The Warrior Mind was a state all Londim Warriors practiced with their meditation. It was in this moment the Warrior became one with his sword. Kaza looked up. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he brandished his sword, his companion, in this battle.

The first criminal approached and everything started moving normally again. The criminal swung his sword down to hit Kaza but Kaza blocked and while blocking moved behind his enemy, moved his sword so the enemies sword continued downwards, and plunged his sword into his foes neck, killiing him instantly. No sooner the man fallen to the ground another, this time brandishing an axe, tried to attack. Kaza aimed for the leg and was met with a block, an expected move. Kaza started a flurry of swings each to trigger a certain movement within his eemy, a step back there, a block here which meant the criminal could not fight back. Sweat was running down the mans face and his movements more sluggish, still Kaza persisted until he saw his moment to strike. Kaza's sword went into the mans throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. Kaza went for another...

"well... this isn't good" words softly spoken, thoughts running quickly

Akira had found himself in one of the more awkward positions available to a halberder... jammed in the middle of a crowd.

"excuse me" he said suddenly, and quite clearly, before jumping up and proceeding to run across heads and shoulders towards the foe, halberd unslung as he went, and instead resting across his own shoulders and griped over his right with his right hand.

reaching the edge of the crowd, or, more accurately, where it met his foes and was no longer stable enough to run on, he leaped, reaching his left arm up and right to catch his weapon as it came around for more power and control, swinging the weapon out and down to his right.

as the weapon came around, the unmistakable sensation of heads being severed traveled along it's length. Akira knew that even such a powerful swing, perfectly aimed, would loose momentum quickly if it continued to encounter such resistance, and thus shifted his right hand out along it's length, while drawing his left towards his body. as those around him realized what was happening and attempted to pull back, he had drawn his weapon in, clearing the obstacles without losing what momentum it had left.

abruptly, he shifted his grip again, the point traveling at speed towards a criminal, causing him to duck back, but, rather than impaling him, at the end the tip began to travel up, and then the whole weapon followed it around in a vertical arc that brought it's blade crashing down on one who had sought to sneak up behind him. conscious of the effect of such a blow striking the ground, akira had shifted his stance and motion to bring the Black Wind down at an angle, slicing the luckless criminal in half and allowing him to swoop the weapon around before it hit the ground for an upwards swing at those who were closing on him again from the other direction.

he continued like this for some time, until a particularly large criminal with what appeared to be a deceased parking meter approached him, and those around backed off somewhat.

he knew he had to be careful here. if he won, he'd get swarmed again. of course, he wasn't the only one fighting these criminals, and at least none of them had guns or bows...

he saw how his foe held his weapon 'where the hell did he get That, anyway?' and shifted his grip accordingly, holding the weapon with it's head pointing to the ground, parallel to his body.

the criminal took a powerful swing at his head. he skipped sideways a little, and swung his weapon up and forwards, forcefully. it was a short, sharp motion, and useless for an attack due to it's limited arc... but the shock as it hit the opponent's weapon was enough to send the other man reeling, and to drive his own weapon back down... and back... and up... and with a shifted grip, over and down again, cleaving the larger man's head in two from behind, and carrying on at an angel to remove an arm and swing around in a horizontal arc to keep those who surrounded him clear.

it looked like it was going to be a messy day.

Captain wall saw the halbardier as he cleaved through the criminals swarming him. nice style he thought, good use of leverage, i've got to remember some of those techniques. He slashed his way to the man and called out to him, motioning that he would cover the man's back. He impaled his sword through two men, and drew his axes. Mst of the men he was fighting only used one weapon, so he would catch or block it as his other axe cleaved through his opponent.

"So, let me discern this." Gengur said, as he watched, talking to himself. "There are a few who can stand out amongst others, but will they be doing what I hope they'll be doing?" He asked, smiling. Sekai stood up beside him, wondering what he was trying to say.

"Alright, I want more than just crooks." Gengur said, yelling out loud as flak tracks upon flak tracks unleashed legions of rabid dogs, roaring and spraying with foaming saliva as they somewhat uncontrollably charged with intensity and horrific anger towards their prey, the remains of what was left of the normally large. From the few thousand that have appeared, only a couple hundred were left, and now they could not let themselves bitten at any cost.

This is madness Riker thought, dispatching his hostage by snapping his neck. Instead of continuing to challenge each criminal individually, he had taken to ducking low and cutting their hamstrings as he ran through the crowd. If the fallen were not trampled to death, they would be finished later.

Just as he stumbled off balance and careened into one of the prisoners, he noticed the rabid dogs attacking one of the men he had hamstrung previously. Shit. Thinking quickly, he slashed the side of the dog open and then issued a high pitched whistle. The dogs, naturally drawn to the high pitch sound turned to him. Riker then quickly retreated the wounded dog, who was promptly killed by the others. Rabid they may be, but they were still naturally much more interested in something that was wounded but still alive. He slowly moved backwards, drawing the rabid dogs into a bottleneck, either downing the lead dog or hamstringing a prisoner whenever the pack got too close.

Ikkou was quite relaxed as the criminals were presenting nothing in the way of challenge. They would rush him and before they'd finished thier attack, a hand would be sent flying or the guts ripped out of them. The signature of Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryū was its insane speed and precision and this was utilized to its fullest extent by Ikkou. In fact the situation could not have been any better designed for the swordsman.

From the perspective of many of the waiting criminals who were endevoring to get at him, Ikkou was simply standing still while heads and innards flew in various directions from those who got too close. Even attempts to flank resulted in the same fates.

The arrival of the dogs scattered those who still fought in his vicinty. Quickly apraising the situation for fighting beasts was quite different from men, however weak or cowardly. He immediately switched to a repeated useage of the Dragon Hammer-Flight Strike to impale one beast while ripping another open all the while utilizing the momentum to launch himself into the next repetition of Ryūtsuishōsen. Even the maddened beasts began to find it safer to go after the rapidly forming piles of carrion than brave the howling blade and uncatchable prey.

Akira's initial reaction was to run away. what sane man engaged in Melee combat with wild animals in the first place, let alone rabid ones? a quick glance around, however, showed that this was not yet a viable option.

resigning himself to the fight, he silently gave thanks that so many of his training partners in the past had been shorter than himself, and that his style actually, in part because of this, allowed him to strike shorter things without too much difficulty.

the first animal leaped at him, was spitted on the halberd's point, and thrown away. the same motion followed through to slice others in half, and followed through some more to impale another on the weapon's butt spike, and fling that one away as well as the head came down and across to cut more in half. a whirling circle of death, made all the more effective because the downed dogs became a distraction for those still alive.

"Okay, I think they've been rounded down enough." Gengur said into the speaker, the long pillars began to emit torrents of a thick, haze-like mist through the backyard, the rabid animals convulsing and throbbing in pain as they were quickly killed in fell swoops, mercilessly and without regret from Ushuimaru's action. Standing up with a certain stare of satisfaction upon his face, Gengur looked down at the remaining fighters as he finally began to assign numbers towards them.

"Number 12." He pointed at Akira.

"Number 7." He assigned Kaza, pointing at him.

"Number 15." He pointed at Captain Wall.

"Number 1." He pointed at Ikkou.

"Number 5." He pointed at Riker.

As the time passed, in the end it ended up with only 16 fighters remaining in the tournament. Gengur clapped happily, smiling as he had watched the tired fighters in the bloodied battlefield of a yard, the stench of corpses strong and evident. Once more, however, he spoke into the speaker. "We will now be handing out room keys for you based on your number. Enclosed is a small sheet showing the current rankings and where you will stand and begin. Also, you may join to watch any of the matches. Further information will be notifying you 16 powerful candidates on your success." He said, getting off the platform onto the backyard, looking around with a proud face. However, his eyes darted back and forth, as if something was out of place.

"There's seventeen survivors." He said, looking around as he walked up to the closest man, a tall, lanky man with with an oversized claymore, smiling brightly as Gengur placed his hand into a knife-shaped form, stabbing cleanly into the man's stomach as his hand emerged out the other end, clutching a piece of his spinal cord, blood splashing out profusely onto his silver uniform. Taking his hand out, he drew out a small white silky handkerchief, upon which he wiped his blood red hands dry, throwing it onto the frozen corpse standing at his feet. He smiled. "We have sixteen now." He said, looking at them all.

Soldiers were now cleaning up, while other soldiers handed out pamphlets to each of the sixteen remaining, included with them a map of the tall fish-shaped building they had previously come from. Inside it showed sixteen rooms joint by a long hallway, a winding cafeteria and a deep, dank basement labeled as a workout center. It also seemed to carry a meditation room upon the second floor, and its location ensured it was sprayed with radiant sunlight. Each of the soldiers were giving out keys to the respective rooms.

"Anybody who is hungry please go to the cafeteria. Anybody wounded please go to the medical office across from the cafeteria. The Tournament will begin in two days shortly." Gengur said loudly, smiling with a wide grin on his face. "Please get to know your fellow fighters and become friends. That way, when you fight, I will determine who has the gumption to wound a friend."

Upon the platform, the current tournament scoreboard flashed up:

Match 1: Fighter 1 versus Fighter 2
Match 2: Fighter 3 versus Fighter 4
Match 3: Fighter 5 versus Fighter 6
Match 4: Fighter 7 versus Fighter 8
Match 5: Fighter 9 versus Fighter 10
Match 6: Fighter 11 versus Fighter 12
Match 7: Fighter 13 versus Fighter 14
Match 8: Fighter 15 versus Fighter 16

"Please remember your respective numbers, everyone." Gengur smiled.

Captain Wall made his way to the cafeteria, and begean to eat voraciously. It was rather tiring to fight for so long in full plate armor, he would have to work on his endurance some more in whatever training rooms were offered while he was here. He wondered if there was a nearby church he could visit while waiting for the tournament to start, and wandered off toward the library. I wonder if they have the works of Berckley here? He found himself distracted while reading. Ripped the man's spine out...barbaric. I will join no fighting force that thinks itself above morality.

Akira watched these goings on with interest, his whole body wracked with violent shudders as it purged the adrenalin from his system more rapidly than was normal for the human body. normal for him though, since the first time he'd got in a fight where he was actually in danger. thoughts came rushing back, and he blinked slowly.

thoughts, puzzlement, and a kind of sick anger came rushing back into his mind as it the noradrenalin kicked in. the man in charge of this event was obviously unstable. the criminals made sense, Akira's homeland did something similar on a regular basis. the dogs Almost made sense...

but why kill someone skilled enough to survive that mess? if nothing else, he would have made a good soldier. it was wasteful, as well as... not inhuman, but human in the worst kind of way.

wounding a friend to keep him from death or worse was one thing, but Gengur's actions had proved that such would not necessarily be the case. so, Akira simply acquired his key and left for his room. his loyalty was hard won, and not so easily cast aside that an actual friend would be cut down to satisfy such sick whimsy.

uninjured as he was, after such a fight Akira would not be eating for a couple of hours, at least. instead, fruit juice was the order of the day, in large quantities. picking it up from the cafeteria and taking it with him, he set to the same tasks he useually carried out in his leisure time. writing on many and various subjects. philosophy of a sort, in truth. good governance, effective strategy, tactics, combat, technology, psychology. anything that came to mind. he read widely, and thought on what he had read.

half of every battle was, after all, won or lost in the mind. and in this environment, he did not intend to loose.

OOC: Am I still in this..? I haven't had a chance to post cause of work...

Riker first walked to the bathroom, where, after relieving himself, he washed the blood from his hands. Afterwards, he went back to the cafeteria.

He sat, staring coldly into his food. Watching the man stab the other man after the survival course brought back a flashback.

Many years ago, he remembered, all of them, his comrades in arms, all standing, naked, in the pouring rain. "Welcome to Mount Heaven!" They had all locked arms and were shivering. Riker huddled to the two men next to him, but they were so cold they could be passed off as corpses. The cold rain was pouring over him as he coughed uncontrollably. In a second one man had fallen over, and the DI stood over him screaming. Within a second, the DI's sidearm was out and two bullets went into his skull. The man standing next to Riker began screaming at the DI, but his throat exploded. "Think about dropping him. Just think about it." The gun was jammed hard into Riker's forehead. Riker continued holding up the man who was dying.

He rubbed his eyes, forcing the memory out of his mind, before continuing his meal.

Captain Wall finished his reading, and wadered around the uilding. He spotted Akira in one of the halways, and approached him. "Excuse me, i am Captain Wall, a fellow competitor, would you do me the honor of a sparring match sometime today? I would like to observe your style."

Captain Wall finished his reading, and wadered around the uilding. He spotted Akira in one of the halways, and approached him. "Excuse me, i am Captain Wall, a fellow competitor, would you do me the honor of a sparring match sometime today? I would like to observe your style."

Akira stopped and turned to face the man

"i make it rule not to give my foes advantages they need not have. so unfortunately, i must decline. i have thoughts in my head i must write down and get out, so that i can focus.

i will not build bonds with those about to die when i may be the one to end them." the man's accent was soft, and he hardly emphasized his words at all. in truth, he barely separated one from the next sufficiently for what he said to be made out. it was reasonably clear that the local speech was not his native tongue.

settling his hat on his head properly once more (it had come askew during the days activity) he turned and continued toward his room, his coat billowing behind him.

"if we survive, talk to me again. we shall see." he spoke just loud enough to be heard as he left.

Kaza looked around at the bodies that lay strewn around the arena and the scope of what had happened hit him. This had been like a battle only expected in war not in a tournament. He looked at the other fighters and saw one fall dead, killed by the man running this tournment. Anger flashed in his eyes. Innocnet men had died today and one more had needlessly. Kaza took a deep breath and stored the anger. He would need that for battle. He turned and went to his room.

"I need a wash he thought to himself." After he had removed the blood of the innocent and guitly alike, Kaza went to the cafeteria, sat down and ate like a man who had been starved for weeks.

Upon the announcement speakers, the receptionist spoke loudly. "Number 7 please go to the receptionist area for your interview, please. Number 7 please go to the receptionist area for your interview, thank you." It was a pleasant, assuring voice, in contrast to the odd brutality of the opening tournament tests, and it was, by the number system, calling for Kaza.

Akira, now cloistered in his room, wrote swiftly and neatly. long strings of runic characters flowed forth from his brush, imparting thought to paper. no one ever read the bulk of what he wrote, but one day, some of it might be useful to someone. failing that, at least it cleared the thoughts out of his head.


'bring thingvel exsept yepholly thorsuppressjin wisdomij ouhphollowadeix, phoolij ouhleadadeix.' he wrote, a thought which had been plaguing him for some weeks.

"humm... is this nation one to which that applies, i wonder?" he mused aloud in the same language.

his brush moved again, and in the margin, a note appeared beside this line 'be so, Jenrak mi'

in this session alone he had written some five pages already.
'must remember to get more paper and ink' he thought.

Captain Wall finished his reading, and wadered around the uilding. He spotted Akira in one of the halways, and approached him. "Excuse me, i am Captain Wall, a fellow competitor, would you do me the honor of a sparring match sometime today? I would like to observe your style."

After watching Akira snub Captain Wall, Riker approached him. "You looking for a sparring partner? I'd like to get some more practice in. If its ok with you I'd like to do it without swords. You game?"

"Of Course. I am available any time today. Armor or no armor?"

"No armor, but no swords either. You do any hand to hand?"

"i have been trained to fight hand-to-hand in plate armor, so without armor will probably only make me faster." Captain Wall said, smiling. "When do you want to spar? Now?"

"Now works. There's room in the training room." Riker began to walk.

Captain Wall followed him, observing the way the man carried himself and the way he walked, as it would hint at how Riker fought.

Upon arriving in the training room, Riker removed his sunglasses and trenchcoat, revealing a large array of swords and daggers. His arms were large and muscular, but he was not a large person by any standard. He wore a gray wife-beater with the Greek letter Zeta visible on his right arm. His left arm had a tattoo of a bear claw, but the most distinguishing mark was a long, thin but deep scar that travelled across his right pec. A careful observer would have noticed that the scar had the shiny skin that comes from a burn. But then again, a careful observer would notice that he had removed his scarf and replaced it with a flesh colored bandage that was wound tight around his throat.

Captain Wall took off his armor, countless bullet-hole scars visible on his arms and chest. He saw the bandage, and decided to say nothing on the matter. Riker would let him now of any vulnerabilities to watch out for.

Kaza heard the announcement calling for him. He got up leaving his plate where it was. Though the voice was calm Kaza was wary. He carried his sword with him to the reception.

" I'm Kaza, Number 7 as it is. I heard the announcement. What would you like?" Kaza waited for the answer while assessing the place he found himself in.To him it seemed a nice place on the surface but beneath was a web of horror and corruption.

Riker twisted his head, making cracking sounds on his neck, and then cracked his knuckles. "I've been in and out of the hospital, so if I say stop, I'd appreciate you stopping."

"Of course. Are we going all out, or just light strikes?"

"I'm up for all out." Riker said, raising his fists.

"Good with me. My style focuses mainly on power, so if it wasn't all out i'd be in trouble. Not that i expect to win, of course." He switched into a fighting stance, lowering his center of gravity and positioning his legs so as to make him hard to push over. "Your move." He said, smiling.

Riker approached, using a conventional boxing stance and led with a light left jab.

Boxing? Captain Wall thought as Riker approached. He should know better. Fists are by no means the only weapons available to an unarmed man. He took the jab in his shoulder, impressed at the quickness with wich it was thrown, and dropped into a sweeping kick aimed at taking his opponents legs out from under him.

Reiker saw the man drop and promptly rose one leg. When his opponent's kick struck his leg, Riker promptly caught his opponent's leg between his two while falling on his left shoulder, cradling his head. Riker promptly pulled the leg up to his midsection, while delivering a powerful blow to the man's kidney.

Captain Wall grunted at the blow to his kidney, and grabbed the arm that had struck him. He then used his free leg as leverage to steady himself and pull Riker's arm over his shoulder. He then spun away from his opponent, pulling the man over him by the arm.

Noticing that he was in a position to be pinned, Reiker deftly headbutted Captain Wall, aiming for the bridge of his nose, and delivered a powerful left hook to the left side of Wall's jaw, while trying to pull his right arm free.

Noticing that he was in a position to be pinned, Riker deftly headbutted Captain Wall, aiming for the bridge of his nose, and delivered a powerful left hook to the right side of Wall's jaw, while trying to pull his right arm free.

Captain Wall grunted again as blood began flowing from his nose and mouth and put his knees on his opponents chest. Twisting the arm that Riker was struggling to free and pushing his face against Riker's to keep him from headbutting again, and punching the area where the man's diaphram was, so as to wind him. "Submit?" He said, laughing.

What Reiker lacked in size and stamina, he compensated for in isometric strength and pain tolerance. Muscles bulging, he forced his arm to twist against the force applied by his opponent. Though he could reasonably prevent his arm from breaking for about another minute, the blow to the diaphram made his situation even more urgent. Thinking quickly, he used his free hand to grab the man's right ear and began twisting it, channeling the burning sensation in his chest into his fingers as he tested the strength of the carilidge.

Cpatain Wall grimaced, and grabbed Ricker's wrist, twisting it to make him remove his grip. He hoped the man would give up soon, as he could not pin him forever, and they would both be too tired for another match if they kept this up much longer. "Draw?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Draw." Reiker wheezed. This guy has fight. He panted and crawled from under the man. "You are a hell of a fighter. I hope someone else does you in first. Your probably a bastard with a sword."

"4 wars will do that to a man, especially when they are wars for independace, makes you fight all the harder. The trick when fighting me with a sword, is being able to get close enough without being cleaved apart. Once you do though, i can really only fight hand-to-hand and with my axes. I think the only person who has a weapon the size of mine is that halberdier, thats why i was trying to get a sparring match with him, his style is most similar to mine, so I might have learned the most from him. That was a nice hook, by the way. If i hadn't been able to knock you over, you probably would have beaten me, you are much faster." Cptn. Wall said, sitting down massaging his jaw, pulling out a tooth. "What do you think of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju? Boy that's a mouthful."

"Eh...the Menekrungo is a prick. Sure he puts us all through this bullshit with the prisoners and the rabid dogs. He thinks he's tough, but he wouldn't hold a torch to my old DI."

"Care to tell me about the wars you were in?"

"I fought alongside Lord Sumguy in the revolutions against the old communist regime that used to occupy the nations of Shredderstan, Maxgreen's Allies, People of Sumguy, and of course, The Holy Empire of Lord Sumguy. He led two of them himself, and helped start the other two. It wasn't really the fact that the government was socialist, although that didn't help, as much as it outlawed religion and free speech, and was a foreign power that had conquered us half a decade earlier. Lord Sumguy was a young preist, and i was a soldier that was a member of his congregation. We started having secret church services, and before we knew it, we were leading a revolution. After all was said and done, each nation went it's seperate ways. Maxgreen's Allies became a socialist democracy led by the colledge-educated elite, Shredderstan is ruled by a benevolent dictator, and People of Sumguy became a federal democracy. Lord Sumguy was elected as emperor in my country for a six-year term, and is on his second, having won re-election. I became a captain in the Royal Guard and the leader of his personal guard, and keeping him alive has been my job for nearly eight years. So what's your story?"

Reiker removed the bandage from his throat, revealing a mass of purple scar flesh with a deep scar and stiches running down the middle. Retying his scarf and putting on his coat, he spoke calmly. "I was in the army for a while, but then I was transferred to intelligence. The Siapian Intelligence Network if you ever heard of it." He picked up his swords and his sunglasses. "I saw a little action here and there." From behind his sunglasses he sort of just stared into space. "Things got ugly though. I retired as soon as I could."

Gengur stood there, his arms tucked neatly inside his uniform, smiling as he drew out a clipboard, a pencil in his hands as he smiled with utmost courtesy. "Shame you had to witness that." He said, looking deep into Kaza's eyes, as if he were piercing into the dark reaches of his soul, his gaze neverending, unnerving. "My name is Gengur Ushuimaru, seventh Captain of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. To be entirely honest, I am not really looking for a vice-captain, but on orders of the High Captain I have to appoint one through some sort of method of selection. I must admit, I was caught a bit off guard by the impressive show you guys pulled. I don't know if I would be able to do something along those lines." He said, chuckling slightly. "Now, let's begin. What interested you to join this tournament? And if it is for revenge, on whom?"

"I see. Well, if we survive this tournament, and you don't win, then i could get you a position in the Royal Guard. $120,000 starting salary, holidays off, the best equipment available, and best of all, you'll never have to carry out an immoral order."

Reiker laughed. "Never carry out an immoral order? Are you saying there is morality in war?"

He turned and faced the man. "Story time. See, the man who taught me how to kill was this old hardass, but he had all these legends about him. They say back when my nation had a terrorist problem, he was sent in to clean it up. This one town had this insurgency that would not give up, so he had his unit march them into the woods and shoot all of them. Apparently, one of the bodies fell in a river and turned up downstream near a school where one of the kids recognized his father. So what does he do? He marches all of the kids, boys and girls, into the woods and kills them all. Why? Because he knew that once they saw their parents murdered, they would become another generation of terrorists. Very few people know how the situation was handled there. The ones that do, hate him for it. But we don't have our planes getting hijacked anymore."

Agent 3 arrived to the large building where the tournament was being held. He hated being late but his presence here could not be revealed to others.. Secrecy of his people was a big importance to them. He had no doubt that most had gone through their tests already begun, making his arrival throne in the tournament holders side, but he hoped they would see passed his lateness and permit him to compete. Agent 3 was impressed with the building itself. Tall and grade it resembled the old Agency that was destroyed by Aegies the traitor.

As Agent 3 walked inside he spoke to a receptionist in the front desk...
" I am agent 3 of the Black Agency, I a here to compete in the tournament" he spoke saying the words as softly as possible while still being audible.

" I wish to also say that I will compete any tasks the other competitors have completed and will advanced myself quickly to catch up. I will not be long."

Agent 3 wore his armor as always but kept it hidden under a cloak while wearing a hood. He waited patiently to be given access or told to leave.

It was not before long that another announcement was made shortly. "Number 5 please report to the front gates please, for your interview, number 5 please report to the front gates for your interview. Number 15 please report to the courtyard for your interview, please. Number 15 please report to the courtyard for your interview."

At the moderately large obsidian black front gates stood a draped in the regular uniform; silver and beautifully elegant, draped sleeves that only barely showed his tipmost fingers. He wore sandals, like most Jenrakians in the harsh, sandy desert, and carried a sword in an obsidian sheath as long as he was. Upon his arm, a black band was visible with a finely painted number on it; a smooth '2'. Sekai Hamruun, second Lord of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, and Krejeistan nobility.

On the other hand, at the rose-studded courtyard, it seemed to stretch on for eternity as its cherry patches laced the emerald green lawns with impunity. Sitting upon one of the many wooden arced benches there was a man whose body was difficult to discern - he had many layers of thin and billowy clothing atop his own uniform, much like the others. However, what skin would be visible was covered up by burgundy bandages all over his body, including his face. There were only small slits in the wrappings for his nostrils, his eyes and his tiny clap of a mouth, upon which he carried with him a series of thermoses at his side. He wore a large scarf around his neck, and on it a jet black '8' was patterned. Maiko Vijun, eighth Lord of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, and without a doubt the most powerful of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju.

Reiker quickly excused himself from his story and moved quickly through the corridors until he reached the gates. He then slowly approached the man, saying "I was summoned here, sir?"

"I won't be your Captain, so there's no need to address me by any formality. I'm from a different army, so chances we'll meet are slim. You can call me Hamruun." He said, writing information down on his clipboard. "A few questions - why are you here?"

"Well Hamruun, I am here simply because I am out of work and nearly broke. I've been a soldier most of my life, so I think I have the, uh, what you call 'skill set' for this line of work."

"Understandable. You should know that we do encourage the investment of skills and experience of foreign soldiers. So your entrance into this tournament guarantees a position within our army should you wish for one. Simply make sure whoever you're fighting doesn't kill you, and if you want to work within the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, feel free to apply, and we'll give you a respectable position." He said. "If you have any questions, ask me whenever you need. Now, the current schedule for the Vice-Captaincy is ranked at the seventh army. We only follow commands given by Lord Suriga. In your position, you would only follow a command given by your Menekrungo Vizithkanju, whom would be Gengur Ushuimaru." Sekai continued.

"Our current goals..." He frowned, reading the papers in front of him, "...I kid you not; get ready for poker night next friday, try and get Viraranaar a girlfriend, and get a birthday cake for Haruim." As he spoke, it seemed he was in great pain and shame to say such words; it seemed that for such a proud and powerful fighter such as he, things were beneath him. He finally regained his composure. "We are the guards of our King, Suriga, first and foremost. As such, since nobody really holds any sort of grudge against him, assasination attempts or rebellions against him are nonexistent, low at best. As such, we end up doing this. However, there will be times when we will be doing things past the regular chores. Any questions so far?"

Gengur stood there, his arms tucked neatly inside his uniform, smiling as he drew out a clipboard, a pencil in his hands as he smiled with utmost courtesy. "Shame you had to witness that." He said, looking deep into Kaza's eyes, as if he were piercing into the dark reaches of his soul, his gaze neverending, unnerving. "My name is Gengur Ushuimaru, seventh Captain of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. To be entirely honest, I am not really looking for a vice-captain, but on orders of the High Captain I have to appoint one through some sort of method of selection. I must admit, I was caught a bit off guard by the impressive show you guys pulled. I don't know if I would be able to do something along those lines." He said, chuckling slightly. "Now, let's begin. What interested you to join this tournament? And if it is for revenge, on whom?"


Kaza looked back into Gengur's eyes not showing any fear. The man before him was man to be wary of. Thisman would kill for no reason and Kaza had already witnessed this. Kaza spoke.

"I joined this tournament to represent my brothers and sisters back home. If a little glory comes with that then so be it. if a man comes in and says he is not looking for glory then that man is a liar. I seek revenge on no one. Revenge is not needed, only desire. I respect everyone I fight and I respect them by honouring their souls and sending them to the Warrior Haven be it friend or foe. Without respect a warrior is nothing."

Kaza looked back into Gengur's eyes not showing any fear. The man before him was man to be wary of. Thisman would kill for no reason and Kaza had already witnessed this. Kaza spoke.

"I joined this tournament to represent my brothers and sisters back home. If a little glory comes with that then so be it. if a man comes in and says he is not looking for glory then that man is a liar. I seek revenge on no one. Revenge is not needed, only desire. I respect everyone I fight and I respect them by honouring their souls and sending them to the Warrior Haven be it friend or foe. Without respect a warrior is nothing."

Gengur clapped with admiration at his words. "I am very interested in your ideals." He replied with honesty. "Can you kill your best friend?"

OOC: Have you replied to me yet? I think you have but I am unsure.

OOC: Sorry, I didn't your post, my apologies. Also, please leave all OOC comments in the OOC thread that's provided in the first post of this thread.

The woman looked with skepticism before nodding slowly. "Alright, I'll have to call administration on this issue before giving you a proper reply. What's your name?"

"Any questions so far?"

"Just one. How candid about my previous employment do I have to be?"

" My name is simply Agent 3, And Please do. I do not wish to be any further behind then I am no doubtably am. And the less time I am here the better. " replied agent 3 as he stood in front of the desk awaiting to hear what the administration had to say. Agent 3 wanted to join this tournament more then many could imagine. For if he where to win he would have more then proven his worth as a fighter and if he where to be defeated he would know that more training is needed.

" My name is simply Agent 3, And Please do. I do not wish to be any further behind then I am no doubtably am. And the less time I am here the better. " replied agent 3 as he stood in front of the desk awaiting to hear what the administration had to say. Agent 3 wanted to join this tournament more then many could imagine. For if he where to win he would have more then proven his worth as a fighter and if he where to be defeated he would know that more training is needed.

The receptionist had a look of surprise on her face. "Are you serious?" She asked, sighing, her face distraught with disbelief. "The High Captain will be interviewing you." She said. It was obvious that it was a great honor for a non-Menekrungo to be talking to the High Captain himself. "Could you please wait here a bit while he comes?"

"Just one. How candid about my previous employment do I have to be?"

"I don't care about your previous employment history. Our third Army Lord was a drug dealer before he became a Menekrungo. Our fifth worked at a fast food restaurant. Each and every single one has a different history, it seems. Should you be chosen, you will be under Gengur Ushuimaru, who was raised up in the Kraven occupied lands of Jagada. He was raised as one of the few child killers." Sekai gave a brief summary on Gengur for him. "What we want is your current performance."

"Well, seems like I should be able to fit in here." He said, unconsciously scratching the spot above where the zeta was tattooed on his arm.

"The things we do sometimes are menial. However, we serve as a foremost and innermost strike force used only in emergencies. You must be able to project 100% of your ability at any given time at any given moment; can you do that?" Sekai asked.

"Given that part of my training involved being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night and buried under four of wet sand, I think I could."

Sekai chuckled. "Impressive." He said, writing it down on his clipboard, before finally looking at the last section. "As a measure of competency, I will have to measure your combat skills. So, the premise is simple." Sekai locked his sheath, a steel band around his sword. "This is tradition, so forgive me if you find it insulting; your goal is to force me to unsheath my blade within the next ten minutes." He said, looking at his watch. "You may start at any time, using whatever tactic at your disposal." He said, nodding, his hand gripping the handle.

Captain Wall walked to the courtyard, and approached the man there. "You called?"

As soon as the man finished his sentence, Reiker spat a giant wad of phlegm into the man's eyes. Without hesitating for a moment, he rose to his feet, sword drawn and leveled at the point where the man's shoulder and neck were connected. Without hesitation, be brought the sword down with as much force as he could muster.

"Impudent diversion." Sekai said, using powerful air pressure to fan the phlegm away from him as it landed harmlessly to the side, allowing him to sidestep and dodge the strike cleanly without harm to himself. "I see. You have a very ruthless style, but very good control." Sekai said, rolling up his sleeves, his hands taking the same shape Gengur's did when he stabbed the man earlier. "I guess to defend myself I'll have to use my own offense." He said, looking carefully at the man, walking back a few steps.

"My name is Maiko Vijun. I will be your interviewer. I have to have you a few questions, though we'll save that soon. First, I need to test your combat capabilities." Vijun said, nodding, standing up. "This here is my sword." He said, holding out an obsidian glass-like sheath tucked neatly at his wait. "Force me to unsheath this sword in ten minutes or less, use whatever you deem necessary."

"very well." Captain Wall said, and tightened a clamp on his scabbard, so that it would not fall off the sword. It was weighted for just such a purpose as he needed, to subdue, not kill. He stepeed back and began to swing the weapon. It would break any bones it came into contact with. He aimed for the man's shoulder area.

Reiker, keeping his eye on the other man's hands, began to heave shuriken at him. The first small razors went towards his face while the rest went towards his feet. Then, with the dagger over his hands, he made a steady advance towards the man, using long, powerful strikes as he moved forward.

"Impressive!" Vijun said, a smile evident from beneath his wrappings as he dodged the attacks, walking back slightly. "You have the power and the speed, and your accuracy is damn good. Very impressive." Vijun moved faster than it seemed, with incredible speed. "I feel honored to see someone like this still alive in the world. I had thought guns had taken dominance, but this makes me happy to no end." He said, laughing with enjoying. It was obvious he had no plans on fighting back.

Sekai kept his usual, monotonous face, waiting carefully before using his sandals to shift himself back, his feet slightly avoiding the shuriken as he twisted his down, and then up, kicking them up and catching them, throwing them back in one swift, fluid motion, his head ducked down to avoid the ones at his head. He stabbed with his hands, expecting some sort of counter-attack, his leg tucked neatly to the side as he lined up his ankle, his foot tapping in anticipation. He was using Capoeira to prevent any form of predictability in his attacks. "Faster; you need more speed." Sekai lectured.

Kaza looked at Gengur efore answering the question. It seemed he would have to bring up his past.

" I killed my best friend to spare him. He had been captured by enemy troops and when I found him, he had been beaten and his leg was broken in several places. I spoek with him and knew he would not survive whatever happened. SO rather than let the enemy torture him, I killed him in the traditional fashion, one quick stab through the neck. I started the battle with my best friend and left making one of the biggest sacrifices I have ever had to make. So yes I would kill my best friend."

Captain Wall continued to strike at the man, using the momentum gained with each swing to make the next one faster and more powerful. The weapon had too much force behind it now for the man to turn it or block it without injuring himself, and any attempt to catch it would shatter his hand. Soon the man would have to draw his weapon out of self defence, for he could not dodge forever, as they were steadily moving towards a wall, and he would have nowhere left to move. "What style are you using?" he asked in between swings.

OOC: I hope this isn't out of line.

IC:
Dodging the shuriken that were coming back at him, Riker continued a steady advance, directing the broad sweeps of his sword at his opponents arms every time he attempted to stab. After the comment about speed was made, Reiker almost imperceptibly slowed. Then, as soon as the next stab was made, he absently dropped his sword, dropping to the height of the stab. Holding his right arm perpendicular to the angle of the incoming stab, aligning it so it would, conceivably, go into his face, but with his left hand he violently stabbed his blade into the exposed arm. Then, using it as a handle, he pulled his opponent to the side, wrapping his right arm around the man's waist, and then springing his legs to execute a two-leg takedown, twisting the blade as he lunged.

Ikkou had finished cleaning his blade while Gengur spoke. Finishing just as the man assigned the numbers, he made sure to take his before heading to the room he'd been given. After showering, he headed down to the dinning room. One of the traits that belonged to his style, beside youthful appearences and speed, was a voracious appatite.

Finding the room he entered as he wondered at the type, be it a traditional resturant, a buffet, a cafeteria or something else entirely.

OOC: I'll let it slide for now. Though try not to take action for my character.

"Foresight." Vijun said in the middle of the battle. "No particular style, merely a form of fighting that allows one to anticipate oneself at least four steps ahead of another. The problem with this is that I'm going to end up being cornered. But here's the real question; will I get cornered in ten minutes?" Vijun said - it was obvious the wall was still a long way away. "Anticipate your enemy's movement, put him in your feet."

Sekai frowned, looking at the blood on him. "So you can wound me." Sekai said, taking out his sheathed sword, yet his blade still tucked within the sheath. "I guess I have taken you two lightly; I expect nothing less from a possible candidate." He said with somewhat impressed nature, his sheath held parallel to his shoulder blades, his foot smashing down into the tiled ground, stone pieces smashing and cracking in his wake - for someone wearing sandals, it seemed almost impossible. "Speed, in a world of life and death, is everything." He said, charging with incredible speed, yet stopping instantaneously, rushing forwards again, his sheath swung down with incredible speeds.

"My, my, merciful, but still brutal. You are an interesting character, Mr..." Gengur tried to say, but had forgotten his name, or even asked to.

"Then perhaps we should quicken the pace of things." Captain wall said, releasing the clasp on his scabbard. It flew towards his opponent, weighing 30 pounds, it would injure the man if it was not dodged. He began advancing faster, his sword swinging much faster now that it was free of the extra weight. He was confident that his opponent would not be injured by this, as he moved with almost unnatural speed. "Perhaps i could learn i bit from you in one of the training rooms when we are done here?"

"That's fine." Vijun said, ducking down low, his arms stretched out thin, his hands striking back as he braced himself for another throw, jumping back slightly. "I'm always here to help." He said, stepping back slightly. "If you're planning on making me push to the wall, I guess I'll just have to fine some way to stave you off." He said, kicking his legs together, a clanging noise audible as he smashed his leg down onto the ground, broken tiles erected from the cracks as he picked them up and threw them.

"Call me Kaza. I do what is necessary."

Kaza stared at Genmgur in front of him and couldn't hold the question any longer.

"What is the purpose of this tournament? I know the official statement of looking for a lieutenanat but I sense not all is what it seems. So would you care to shed some light on it or am I to investigate myself?"

The tiles hit Captain Wall's armor, and broke upon the plate steel, creating small dents. "it will take more than ceramic tiles to peirce my armor." he said, laughing. He advanced even faster, at a slow jog now, and steadily accelerating, continuing his strikes. He silently thanked himself for the stamina training he had taken a few weeks ago, if he wasn't in peak physical condition, he would be nearly exausted by now.

"It's an assimilation regiment. Every single fighter in this tournament will be observed during their competition, and systematically, that will in turn benefit the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. We plan on taking none other than those who are powerful enough to project their capabilities with force." Gengur said. "In other words, we will be learning how others apply their life-or-death situations. Since some fighters wouldn't want to kill other fighters, I had to take extreme measures in forcing them to fight."

"Did you honestly think I would expect you to stop from that?" Vijun said, chuckling, as he threw more and more. "I'm just slowing you down, don't you understand? You need to bear constant increased force amongst your speed, your swing, and your energy spent per hit. Subconsciously, you are fighting back the force, reducing your net force."

"I see. Good strategy." With that, the captain rushed his opponent. this was made much easier by the fact that he was already jogging, and his opponent was backpedaling. He held his sword out to his left and turned his right shoulder to face his opponent as he did this, which would force his opponent to dodge right if he was to avoid the attack. The captain prepared to execute a spinning back-slash to catch his opponent as he dodged if this were to happen, and if the man went left, his sword would already be there. The only really effective thing the man could do would be to go under or over the captain, so he remained alert in case his opponent would do either of these. If the man went under, the captain would slide into him, and if he went over, he readied to hit the man in the air with his free hand. size and momentum were advantages that he fully intended to exploit in this situation. Success or failure in this attack depended upon recognizing his opponent's move and countering it in time, so he focused on the man's movements, as they would betray his next action.

The receptionist had a look of surprise on her face. "Are you serious?" She asked, sighing, her face distraught with disbelief. "The High Captain will be interviewing you." She said. It was obvious that it was a great honor for a non-Menekrungo to be talking to the High Captain himself. "Could you please wait here a bit while he comes?"

Agent 3 nodded silently as he received news of his to be meeting with the High Captain, and no doubtably the host of this tournament. Although he was indeed honored to be meeting with him, he could not think of any reason to be meeting with him. This gave him an uneasy feeling.

" Ma'am if you dont mind me asking... why have I been given the honor of the high Captains meeting?" asked agent 3 as he stood waiting...

Vijun sighed. "Looks like this can't go on as long as I thought it would." He said, with a certain sense of dissatisfaction in his voice. "Hmm? Oh, eight minutes. Good call on attack." Vijun said, before ducking down deep, his right hand on his sword, unsheathing it in an instant as he blocked the swing with both his sheath and his blade, holding it firm in his defense. He chuckled with a slight tone of impressiveness. "You pass."

"I don't know." The receptionist said with surprise, before a figure walked down the escalator, revealing a somewhat sandy-haired man with small rectangle glasses, his face in a certain scholarly look, his aura emanating one with utmost intelligence; there seem to be no bloodlust coming from him, nor any blood was smelled. From his waist, his sword dangled by a somewhat thick piece of cloth, like all White Captains, yet on his arm, where his number would be, there was none. It, instead, was tattooed on his throat; a clean, simple '1', almost like a black slit.

He stood there, before walking forwards, the receptionist bowing her head in utmost respect. "You must be the one I'm interviewing, correct?" He asked, his eyes half-drooped, as if he was obviously annoyed for some reason.

"Ahh so this a test, if not the ultimate test. You seperate the strong from the weak and also benefit from this. Very clever. As I said before I do what I have to do and should I have to kill another then so be it. Their deaths will not be in vain.", replied Kaza.

"Impressive. You will be representing all those you've killed, remember. For every death you have on your hands, you must make good with their deaths by using all the experience you have learned in the art of murder to defend your ideals. That is our belief. Can you deal with that belief?" Gengur asked.

"I don't know." The receptionist said with surprise, before a figure walked down the escalator, revealing a somewhat sandy-haired man with small rectangle glasses, his face in a certain scholarly look, his aura emanating one with utmost intelligence; there seem to be no bloodlust coming from him, nor any blood was smelled. From his waist, his sword dangled by a somewhat thick piece of cloth, like all White Captains, yet on his arm, where his number would be, there was none. It, instead, was tattooed on his throat; a clean, simple '1', almost like a black slit.

He stood there, before walking forwards, the receptionist bowing her head in utmost respect. "You must be the one I'm interviewing, correct?" He asked, his eyes half-drooped, as if he was obviously annoyed for some reason.


Agent 3 could see the distress in his eyes. The loathing look of another pressing thought which could not be ignored. As he spoke saying
"You must be the one I'm interviewing, correct?"

Even his voice could not disguise his annoyance. The tattoo was normal for him to see as he had not seen any of the others. But 3 replied with a small gesture and spoke saying

" Yes, or atleast thats what I have been told. But I must inquire as to why I am being interviewed now. I would have expected a preliminary test.."

"Good." The Captain said, walking to retreive his scabbard, and sheathing his sword. "I like an opponent that i don't have to hold back on. So, on to the interview, correct?" He took off his helmet to wipe the sweat from his eyes. " I really need to get a ventilation system for this armor."

"Akin this test to a battlefield. You yourself may wind up late, and after the battle is done, but the only thing that changes is the peoples' perception towards your ability and your pride. However, that means that since you have arrived, you are the seventeenth person. There is only sixteen aloud. The only way you could mount to joining the tournament is to take another's place. However, that will come later. The interview begins now." The High Captain, Mengiko, replied. He had a strong, powerful and strict aura around him, one with the obvious intent of leadership. "Why are you here?" He asked.

"That's true." Vijun chuckled. "It doesn't look pleasant at all under there. Now, the second test is your ability to comprehend the laws of warfare and deduce what seems undeductable. Can you do that? Are you good at analyzing a fight?" Vijun asked.

"I like to think so. Are we talking general strategy, or individual tactics?"

"Individual fights. Our role is to kill or subjugate enemy forces by destroying their command structure. Hence, we rarely lead the battle in terms of overall strategy. I will have to show you something. Come with me." Vijun said.

Captain Wall followed his interviewer, wondering if there was another task for him to complete.

Akira, having cleared his mind of stray thoughts, was now making use of the gym facilities. his warm up completed, he was now attempting to refine his unarmed combat stances.

he assumed a position his master referred to as a 'compact, well defended junction'. honestly, while he understood the metaphors, he found most of them silly. at least it gave things a name though.

having taken the stance, he then proceeded to simply... hold it. this was trickier than he made it look, as he still had his halberd slung across his back, over his coat and as with many stances in the Many Paths style, only one of his feet was on the ground, the other raised to knee level. arms raised in a position to cover head and chest, and uneven so as to allow a strike with either, left leg raised to protect his genitals, as well as ready to drop into place for a kick with his right leg or to counter act the effects of a sweep, right leg bent very slightly to better accommodate balance, he simply... stood.


time passed. one minute, five, seven, eight... he felt his leg begin to quiver, and suddenly launched himself forward onto his left leg, swinging his right around for a high kick before halting his momentum and re-assuming a mirrored form of the same stance.

again, he held it, this time making ten minutes, before apparently falling to his right. in truth, that was exactly what he did, but his final position was for an extended strike with his left palm, at chest height, in a controlled stop. almost too quick for an observer to notice how he had stopped, he had retracted back into the stance once more.

he held his position for five minutes more, before abandoning it in favor of a more neutral stance. simply placing his feet about shoulder with apart, turning so his left shoulder lead slightly, light on his feet, he began a series of strikes, kicks, and the occasional... well, it looked like an awkward grapple. from the proper angle, one skilled in such things would notice that if he were fighting a foe in the position he was appearing to be attacking, every single blow would miss, every grapple would be easily dodged.

to a large extent, that was the point. the Road Not Taken technique of the many paths style. while an outside observer could tell that no blow would hit, the person apparently in their path would be hard pressed to realize it, especially when combined with various other tricks and feints, and the occasional true strike. each dodge, each (probably) aborted counter attack, and most blocks would progressively destabilize a foe more and more as the expected impact failed to materialize.

if they continued, they would eventually fall.

and if, eventually, they stopped dodging, or blocking, or attacking...

then they would become static, and he would either withdraw into a junction stance again, or make his final strike.

by no means invincible, the technique was none the less dangerous.

((ooc: ugh, this didn't come out as well as i hoped.. oh well. boredom = this.))

Ikkou, after he'd finished his very large meal, headed out to track down one of the members of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, such as the one who'd provided him the room key. Once he'd found one such person he asked, "Would it be possible to get some heavy duty speakers sent to the meditation room, the more powerful the better. Say the kind they use for techno-heavy metal concerts, and a system that I put some cds in."

While it was not directly used for training, it was the best way that Ikkou had found for centering himself. The heavy pulsing beats of the music he liked was part of the method he used to gain the exceptional precision his art stressed.

Agent 3 nodded as he heard the news of his late arrival would not allow him access into the tournament as is, and the question of why he was even there brought the answer that agent 3 felt most appropriate for the question..

" I am here to see that my training has yielded its fullest potential. To see if my skills have been honed to the best possible. I must see if their is one in this world who I have never met that can best me in battle. For my people battle is our life and our skill is a testament to our standing within our society. I am called agent 3 because there are 2 more better then I. I have prove to myself and to others that I have to power to over throw those who are in the top rankings. I must enter this tournament so I may win... and return to my people a victory among many to earn a chance to duel the best my people have ever seen... Simply... I am here to win and nothing more. You can keep your money, your prize I only wise to best these others here. "

Agent 3 said this all without expression, without emotion, and with no concern for the others lives who entered the tournament. He simply wished to enter to win.

At the gym, a silver uniformed girl stood, a long black nihon at her waist, wrapped similarly to the other swords of the White Captains. She looked around, her face smooth and somewhat plain, though nowhere average. She had a look of innocence around her, her height short and her body slightly small, her arms tucked neatly in the large sleeves of her uniform, her hair tied back neatly in a long mahogany brown ponytail. As she talked, she had an extremely feminine, tiny voice, looking around. "Is there an Akira around here?" She asked, clipboard in her hand.

"I'll be back." Gengur said, smiling, as he watched his watch. "It'll only take five minutes." And with that, he sped off.

The Menekrungo member shrugged. "You'll need to check up on the tech crew about that. Even so, you'd need one of the permission of a Captain or Vice Captain fifth seat or higher, and I'm twelfth seat." He said, chuckling slightly at his embarrassment.

Mengiko nodded. "Pragmatic for me, idealistic for you. I will be calling one of the members down, and if you can kill him, you will be given his spot in the tournament. Is that fair?" Mengiko replied.

Vijun kept walking, silently, though his shadow flickered slightly, the clanging from his feet still heard. "I will show you a rare sight, one that I rarely show others." He said, going into the courtyard chambers, before the bleakness of the blackness engulfed them in sheer nothingness. Here, he arrived at an iron door sealed with steel locks, behind it a soft clanging noise heard. "Behind this door lies a member of the Eroivizuun; an organization that have been quite an annoyance to our power spectrum. They're a group hailing from Kahanistan that have opened up a secret organization in eastern Jenrak, called the Aulok Sector. A tricky bunch to get their hands on, and I got a rare one indeed. Care to join me watch his execution?" He said.

Captain Wall tensed visibly at the casuality of his interveiwer when referring to the execution. Human life is extremely valuable and should be protected. It should not be taken so lightly. "I do not kill unless it is neccesary for the greater good, and I do not enjoy the act. I am afraid that i would rather not witness an execution, but if you insist, i will. What crimes has the man commited?"

OOC: Cptn. Wall's thoughts are in italics.

At the gym, a silver uniformed girl stood, a long black nihon at her waist, wrapped similarly to the other swords of the White Captains. She looked around, her face smooth and somewhat plain, though nowhere average. She had a look of innocence around her, her height short and her body slightly small, her arms tucked neatly in the large sleeves of her uniform, her hair tied back neatly in a long mahogany brown ponytail. As she talked, she had an extremely feminine, tiny voice, looking around. "Is there an Akira around here?" She asked, clipboard in her hand.

((and other words))

Akira turned slowly, eyes unblinking, "I am an Akira, though i was unaware there were others of the same name in this frame of reference." he quirked an eyebrow slightly. "what do you wish from me?"

She smiled, trying to act polite. "My name is Izmishnu Fluuruin, Vice-Captain of the second Army Lord Sekai Hamruun. In other words, I would be your possible co-worker. I'm here for your interview, since my boss is interviewing someone else and so is the one running the tournament. Do you have time?" She asked.

"This execution is different. Those in Jenrak are rare to get an execution penalty. Although you are not probably aware very well of our political structure, but Jenrak's people live in a Caste system, and the only way to move forwards is to join the military. Criminals are given special outlier status when they join, and the more cruel and sadistic they are, the better outliers they become. This man would become a member of the Sadicistra, but he's too dangerous to be left alive." Vijun walked in, showing a steel cage as below a man stood, his body throbbing and his arms gripping a steel sword, his face frowning.

Across from him, however, stood a familiar figure - Gengur Ushuimaru, seventh Menekrungo Vizithkanju, his face always in a perpetual smile. "Ushuimaru is the one who will be executing him. I want you to explain to me what he will be doing soon is."

" So if I kill another contestant you shall grant me entrance into the tournament... Seems like a simple enough task. Who shall I be dueling? I wise to know as I do not kill an unknown opponent and vise versa if avoidable. " said agent 3 as he nodded to the words of the High Capitan.

" You remind me of another Agent I knew long ago. His name was 7, both his Agent number and his actual name. He was commanding in presence and deceiving in looks. He was probably the best among my people. I am sure if he could he would ere today in my stead."

"Thank you for the subtle compliment." Mengiko spoke, his eyes still fixated on his clipboard. "Though, to let you know, my fighting abilities are the weakest within the Menekrungo. I'm still a Kerahou class Menekrungo. If you want to see misleading, look at Ishidun Geriuusk - he epitomizes capability and strength like none I've ever witnessed before." He replied. "Number 10 will be your opponent." Mengiko spoke, showing him the clipboard file.

On it showed a camera image of a frowning, scowling man whose face was hidden behind a long, spanning cone hat, his face melted and burnt beyond comparison, a veil covering his face. He had a long drape of velvet robes upon his small shoulders, his arms fairly well built as a dagger was apparently lodged in his back. No weapons were listed under his name. "Lately he has shown the least capabilities in terms of performance. If you cannot beat the weakest, then you are not fit to be in the tournament. Is that fair? If so, I will call him down."

"Maybe you could tell me how to find one of the Caps, Vice-Caps, and maybe tell me a little about your organisation and the upper ranked people in it." Ikkou commented as getting a tour guide as well as a 'crash course' on the more key people would be useful.

She smiled, trying to act polite. "My name is Izmishnu Fluuruin, Vice-Captain of the second Army Lord Sekai Hamruun. In other words, I would be your possible co-worker. I'm here for your interview, since my boss is interviewing someone else and so is the one running the tournament. Do you have time?" She asked.

"This execution is different. Those in Jenrak are rare to get an execution penalty. Although you are not probably aware very well of our political structure, but Jenrak's people live in a Caste system, and the only way to move forwards is to join the military. Criminals are given special outlier status when they join, and the more cruel and sadistic they are, the better outliers they become. This man would become a member of the Sadicistra, but he's too dangerous to be left alive." Vijun walked in, showing a steel cage as below a man stood, his body throbbing and his arms gripping a steel sword, his face frowning.

Across from him, however, stood a familiar figure - Gengur Ushuimaru, seventh Menekrungo Vizithkanju, his face always in a perpetual smile. "Ushuimaru is the one who will be executing him. I want you to explain to me what he will be doing soon is."

"Very well, if you insist." the captain said, hiding his discomfort that he felt from the fact that he would be detailing a man's death.

She smiled, trying to act polite. "My name is Izmishnu Fluuruin, Vice-Captain of the second Army Lord Sekai Hamruun. In other words, I would be your possible co-worker. I'm here for your interview, since my boss is interviewing someone else and so is the one running the tournament. Do you have time?" She asked.

((other words here))

"but of course. it is, after all, part of why i am here."

Akira was, as he spoke slowly moving toward Izmishnu. it was a certain kind of movement that would get him where he wanted to be, and most people would fail to notice until he was right inside their personal space, if he chose to approach that closely. he did this all but unconsciously, as it was one of the better ways to approach an unknown, generally. besides, there was rather a large amount of space between them to begin with and thus approaching was necessary if they wished to speak comfortably.

"ask what you will"

"There are eight armies each consist of an accumulated 3356 seats - 26,848 within the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. The numbers are ranked from 0 to 3355, so our actual organization is quite small in numbers, and such we are extremely picky." The man replied, stretching his back slightly. "The power system goes as such; each seat contains a Captain and a Vice Captain. The Captain is the representative of the seat upon which he sits, the Vice Captain takes over his duty when the Captain is not present. Therefore, the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, overall, consist of just under 54,000 men and women, logistics included such as suppliers, engineers, demolition and policing units. Those of a higher ranking carry more power than those of a lower ranking. A Captain is measured by a five rank system comparable to a Vice Captain. For example, a 5th seat Captain carries skill equivalent to that of a 1st seat Vice Captain. A 20th seat Captain is comparable to that of a 15th seat Vice Captain, and so forth. Do you have any questions so far? I can tell you about each of the Zero seat captains."

"Take a close look." Vijun said, as Gengur smiled, unaware that he was being observed. He rose his leg, like Vijun did, and smashed it down onto the marble floor, smashing a clean crater in the floor as he walked back, the one being executed holding his sword steady. Gengur, in an instant, jumped a few feet forwards, before seemingly stopping. However, that was where it began to get odd; silver blurs of color appeared around him, and it was not long before he showed up in a different spot a few spots away, white blurs around him before it repeated. Random craters apparently flew around everywhere around him, as the man finally swung down his sword, yet Gengur lifted his leg, smashing it into his stomach, going through clean. "Explain what that just was to the best of your ability." Vijun said.

"First off, why did you enter this tournament?" She asked.

"So then the competitor who wins will become the Zero seat Vice Captain? And I'd appreciated being told a bit about the Zero seaters, if you don't mind of course, while we look to find one of 5th or higher." Ikkou commented as he absorbed the information.

Pausing a second as he did the math, he added, "If there are 3356 seats, and each seat has a Captain and Vice Captain, and there are eight armies, wouldn't that make the total 53,696?"

"((words))

"First off, why did you enter this tournament?" She asked.

"ehh, i am in need of work, the job ophered looked like something i kould aktually do. otherwise, the chanse to test my skills in kombat was signifikant. i was in the area, saw the advertisement and, having nothing else to do, i entered. kwite simple, really. "

he still hadn't blinked, and had no intention of doing so until it became necessary. instead, he observed this ... Vise-kaptain... in minute detail. after the earlier performance at the preliminary trials, he was disinclined to be less than cautious.

"asktur hamii, Na mi pol" he slipped into his own native language for a moment. what he had said was 'what question will you ask?' with the polite/respectful tag. interpreted rather than translated, it would come out as something more akin to 'what else do you want to know?' he really didn't expect this girl to understand. few outside his homeland did. but how she reacted would tell him something.

Captain Wall went pale, and he silently said a short prayer. "That appeared to be teleportation and a manipulation of the surrounding enviroment, but i cannot say more than that. It would seem as though the air was somehow changed and controlled." His left hand went to his sword, and he crossed himself with his right. What kind of men are these?

"So then the competitor who wins will become the Zero seat Vice Captain? And I'd appreciated being told a bit about the Zero seaters, if you don't mind of course, while we look to find one of 5th or higher." Ikkou commented as he absorbed the information.

Pausing a second as he did the math, he added, "If there are 3356 seats, and each seat has a Captain and Vice Captain, and there are eight armies, wouldn't that make the total 53,696?"

"Yes. Exactly why I said just under. The seats include medical and supply capabilities. However, just because they are logistics does not mean they cannot fight. That's why they're part of the Menekrungo. Vizithkanju is the term to the leaders. Hence, the correct term is the Menekrungo. What would like to know about the zero seaters? They're an interesting bunch."

"There are fifteen in total right now. Eight armies, each with a zero level Vice Captain and a zero level Captain. The Vice Captains consist of six females and one male, and from the looks of this tournament, soon to be two males. The Captaincy is reversed - seven males and one female. Each Captain had a specific strength and ability they are good at, and each has their own unique swords with its own unique capabilities. For example, I know Mekumunos Haruim's sword can be turned into a gun using her sheath. What do you want to know about them?"

"ehh, i am in need of work, the job ophered looked like something i kould aktually do. otherwise, the chanse to test my skills in kombat was signifikant. i was in the area, saw the advertisement and, having nothing else to do, i entered. kwite simple, really. "

he still hadn't blinked, and had no intention of doing so until it became necessary. instead, he observed this ... Vise-kaptain... in minute detail. after the earlier performance at the preliminary trials, he was disinclined to be less than cautious.

"asktur hamii, Na mi pol" he slipped into his own native language for a moment. what he had said was 'what question will you ask?' with the polite/respectful tag. interpreted rather than translated, it would come out as something more akin to 'what else do you want to know?' he really didn't expect this girl to understand. few outside his homeland did. but how she reacted would tell him something.

"Please speak in English. I am paining myself to talk in English when I could be talking in Jenrakian, so courtesy on your part in return for mine is required." She said sternly, with a professional, serious tone.

Captain Wall went pale, and he silently said a short prayer. "That appeared to be teleportation and a manipulation of the surrounding enviroment, but i cannot say more than that. It would seem as though the air was somehow changed and controlled." His left hand went to his sword, and he crossed himself with his right. What kind of men are these?

"Welcome to the conceptual sciences of the world." Vijun said, nodding as he looked at Captain Wall. "Watch closely." He said, pressing something hidden beneath his wraps on his neck, as it seemed to be a speaker of some sort. "Gengur, I have a fighter with me. Show him how to cut a bullet." Vijun said, as Gengur below was at first surprised, before smiling and nodding. "Take a look."

As the man's body was being dragged away, Gengur held his stance firmly, standing still as a soldier walked out carrying a small black pistol, aiming it at Gengur's forehead. Gengur merely smiled, taking up his stance - he bent his back forwards, leaning slightly, his arm perched upon a thin cushion of air above his sheathed sword, his left hand grabbing his sheath tightly. He waited, silently, as a closer look showed that his eyes were shaking in concentration. Then, in a split second, the gun fired, but no body fell down - only two clattering noises were heard in the room; two cleanly cut pieces of lead lying on the floor, still steaming.

Vijun looked back at Captain Wall. "The power of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju lies directly in our sword capabilities. To be considered, let alone accepted, we expect something of this caliber." He said, sighing. "You might expect some sort of witchcraft or impossible speed, but its a possible technique, given you can analyze the actions. Think about this - what is faster? The bullet? Or the finger upon which the trigger is pushed? A bullet travels at three times the speed our hands can do at our physical limit. Therefore, rather than rely on looking at a bullet you cannot see, you go right to the source."

"It's impossible to be faster than a bullet. But it is certainly possible to be faster than one's fingers. In the time he placed that pistol up, Gengur had figured out the angle of sight of the gunman, the distance of the finger to the trigger by relative size of the finger with the other fingers, and finally, he saw when the finger moved. Do you understand what I am trying to teach you?" Vijun said, raising up his uniform, revealing a series of steel weights on his legs. "Fight with logic."

((words))

"Please speak in English. I am paining myself to talk in English when I could be talking in Jenrakian, so courtesy on your part in return for mine is required." She said sternly, with a professional, serious tone.

((other words))


"'the wise student tests the master, the kandidate the selektor. in so doing one proves one's ability to understand, and perhaps learns phrom the response'. an explanation, no exkuse, provided onse by a wise man in the past of my homeland. or at least a translation there oph. iph it helps any, my kwestion was phrased in the most polite manner possible. no offense was... direktly... intended. so, i ask again." he hadn't really stopped moving, nor had he blinked, as yet "in English, as rekwested; 'what else do you wish to know?'"

"Ah, I had a logic error in my thoughts. You meant there were 26,848 members, not that there were twice that as I didn't grasp that you meant there were two people per seat." Ikkou confessed as he filled the fact that should he get the seat, he'd need to at least be able to put some form of ID to face for just under sixty-eight hundred people as well as the correct terminology for both management and rank.

"Could you give a bit of info on personalities, specialties and unique abilities of each of the fifteen, as well as any quirks that might be useful?" He replied to the enquiry on what he desired to learn as they continued to search for one of the fifth or higher.

"Yes. Exactly why I said just under. The seats include medical and supply capabilities. However, just because they are logistics does not mean they cannot fight. That's why they're part of the Menekrungo. Vizithkanju is the term to the leaders. Hence, the correct term is the Menekrungo. What would like to know about the zero seaters? They're an interesting bunch."

"There are fifteen in total right now. Eight armies, each with a zero level Vice Captain and a zero level Captain. The Vice Captains consist of six females and one male, and from the looks of this tournament, soon to be two males. The Captaincy is reversed - seven males and one female. Each Captain had a specific strength and ability they are good at, and each has their own unique swords with its own unique capabilities. For example, I know Mekumunos Haruim's sword can be turned into a gun using her sheath. What do you want to know about them?"



"Please speak in English. I am paining myself to talk in English when I could be talking in Jenrakian, so courtesy on your part in return for mine is required." She said sternly, with a professional, serious tone.



"Welcome to the conceptual sciences of the world." Vijun said, nodding as he looked at Captain Wall. "Watch closely." He said, pressing something hidden beneath his wraps on his neck, as it seemed to be a speaker of some sort. "Gengur, I have a fighter with me. Show him how to cut a bullet." Vijun said, as Gengur below was at first surprised, before smiling and nodding. "Take a look."

As the man's body was being dragged away, Gengur held his stance firmly, standing still as a soldier walked out carrying a small black pistol, aiming it at Gengur's forehead. Gengur merely smiled, taking up his stance - he bent his back forwards, leaning slightly, his arm perched upon a thin cushion of air above his sheathed sword, his left hand grabbing his sheath tightly. He waited, silently, as a closer look showed that his eyes were shaking in concentration. Then, in a split second, the gun fired, but no body fell down - only two clattering noises were heard in the room; two cleanly cut pieces of lead lying on the floor, still steaming.

Vijun looked back at Captain Wall. "The power of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju lies directly in our sword capabilities. To be considered, let alone accepted, we expect something of this caliber." He said, sighing. "You might expect some sort of witchcraft or impossible speed, but its a possible technique, given you can analyze the actions. Think about this - what is faster? The bullet? Or the finger upon which the trigger is pushed? A bullet travels at three times the speed our hands can do at our physical limit. Therefore, rather than rely on looking at a bullet you cannot see, you go right to the source."

"It's impossible to be faster than a bullet. But it is certainly possible to be faster than one's fingers. In the time he placed that pistol up, Gengur had figured out the angle of sight of the gunman, the distance of the finger to the trigger by relative size of the finger with the other fingers, and finally, he saw when the finger moved. Do you understand what I am trying to teach you?" Vijun said, raising up his uniform, revealing a series of steel weights on his legs. "Fight with logic."

"I see what you are saying, but still do not understand how he was able to make colors appear and teleport, as no sword trick can do that. Is there any application of this for guns and the like?"

"'the wise student tests the master, the kandidate the selektor. in so doing one proves one's ability to understand, and perhaps learns phrom the response'. an explanation, no exkuse, provided onse by a wise man in the past of my homeland. or at least a translation there oph. iph it helps any, my kwestion was phrased in the most polite manner possible. no offense was... direktly... intended. so, i ask again." he hadn't really stopped moving, nor had he blinked, as yet "in English, as requested; 'what else do you wish to know?'"

"The wise student speaks only when told to speak, for that is what the master wishes." She replied back, still writing down on her clipboard. "How good are you at following orders?"

"Ah, I had a logic error in my thoughts. You meant there were 26,848 members, not that there were twice that as I didn't grasp that you meant there were two people per seat." Ikkou confessed as he filled the fact that should he get the seat, he'd need to at least be able to put some form of ID to face for just under sixty-eight hundred people as well as the correct terminology for both management and rank.

"Could you give a bit of info on personalities, specialties and unique abilities of each of the fifteen, as well as any quirks that might be useful?" He replied to the enquiry on what he desired to learn as they continued to search for one of the fifth or higher.

"The first is Karakorun Mengiko, the High Captain of the Vizithkanju. He is a genius mathematician and very good logical problem solver. I have heard rumors that despite being the High Captain, he in fact, the weakest of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. After that comes Sekai Hamruun, leader of the Policing squad that deals with making sure that the Menekrungo stays intact. He is a cold, somewhat melancholic figure, though his skill with a sword is apparent. He is arrogant, as I've seen, but that's because he grew up as a Krejeistan noble, and likely taught that everything around him was trash. Third is Ishidun Geriuusk, the first Serahou Class Menekrungo."

"Ishidun is a good person, easy to get along with and compassionate. He, does, however, possess incredible skill with the sword and with hand-to-hand fighting, and the only person who can hold his own against Maiko Vijun, eighth Menekrungo Vizithkanju. Afterwards comes Hazhoku Genkon. I heard that he is a handsome, charismatic and charming man, but underneath that lies a business-like, cold and efficient killing man. It's best not to anger him. Fifth is Mekumunos Haruim, the only female in the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. She, however, plays the battlefield role. She is different in that her capabilities lie with a gun rather than a sword, and such she is pragmatic, logic-driven and always thinking. She..." The man slightly sighed, closing his eyes, "...is also quite the looker."

"Sixth is Farkas Darkholme. He is a bit hot-headed and proud, but loyal to the crown and loved by his department. He manages the Temsplace, and such he carries many traits of the Temsplace within himself. Seventh is the one you're trying to gain wing under; Gengur Ushuimaru. Of all the Menekrungo, I would say he is the most sadistic. He suffers from Krykkioz, a disease he contracted during his time living in Malaga under the Kraven occupation. He has a strong hatred for Jenrakians, and the only reason why he doesn't rebel is because of his strong loyalty to our good King Suriga. He always has a plastic, indiscernible smile about him, and it makes it very eerie. Finally, the eighth, as mentioned earlier, is Maiko Vijun, the strongest of the eight. He is lazy, laidback and easygoing, but don't let that get to you; he's a damn good fighter, and I've never seen him lose to anybody."

As that finished, a small, tiny girl, aged possibly around eight or nine, wearing the traditional robes of the Menekrungo, kicked the man in the shin, as he groaned in pain, furious. "You little punk..." He started, before getting a good look at her, stopping his parade as he bowed his head low. "Ma'am!" He said, holding still.

"Who's that with you?" She asked, a bright, sunlight smile on her face. She had a lock of sandy and somewhat messy brown hair atop her head, and she could be mistaken as somewhat of a boy at first glance, though her shining emerald eyes and high pitched voice gave her gender away magnificently. She was tiny, going up only to the man's knee cap, and yet on her uniform, she carried the familiar golden band on zero seater Vice Captains. She held her hands out to Ikkou, as if to shake them. "Hello! Name's Seleck Heletrumn of the 3rd army."

"I see what you are saying, but still do not understand how he was able to make colors appear and teleport, as no sword trick can do that. Is there any application of this for guns and the like?"

"Instantaneous velocity and instantaneous acceleration. The weights on my legs are not for training. The reason is that Gengur is not moving at incredible speeds, but he is going to his top speed and back to his bottom speed nearly instantly. For that, a force of a few thousand newtons are required to achieve that sort of acceleration, and thus the weights serve as a stopping point and a starting point. Akin this to how your hand moves from one spot to another. You see only the beginning and ending location, just a blur in between. The reason is because you are capable of exerting a force powerful enough to instantly accelerate your movement to its top speed, and then move it down to zero." Vijun explained. "The sort of warfare is applicable to guns in the fact that, when done appropriately, serves as psychological warfare. So far, I've been trying to find a way to make after images, but that's difficult to attain."

Ikkou listened to the information making notations to in his mental notebook as well as making a reminder to see if he could get a chance to watch a match between Ishidun Geriuusk and Maiko Vijun. As he was thinking and listening a tiny girl who looked quite young kicked his guide in the shin.

Noticing the robes and the respect his guide paid the girl he immediately figured that she was a higher rank, something comfirmed when he noticed her band. He found it slightly odd at her age and size, but considering he appeared quite a bit younger than he was, it could be something similar with her.

Bending down so he was at eye level with the Vice Captain, "Hello Seleck Heletrumn, I am Ikkou Maydarme, prospectively of the seventh army." He said as he held his hand out to her.

Kaza watched as Gengur left and took his own leave not wanting to waste time, which could be used for training. He turned and left heading towards the training room. Here he would hone his skills. He entered the training room and looked around.

"And now to perfect the Final Stance."

The Final Stance was called as such because it would be the last stance an opponent ever saw. Each Final Stance was unique, but all delivered a fatal blow.

"The wise student speaks only when told to speak, for that is what the master wishes." She replied back, still writing down on her clipboard. "How good are you at following orders?"

((other words))



"such a student would be wise to phind a new master. he would learn as many phallasies as truths under such a one as you deskribe. the student's task is to learn, not to please the whims oph a phool.

regardless, to answer your kwestion... i phollow orders, save in a very small number of sirkumstanses.
I am not exactly known for obeying inkompetents when doing so is detrimental to the objektive, phor example. chain of kommand is important. suksess is more so."

Ikkou listened to the information making notations to in his mental notebook as well as making a reminder to see if he could get a chance to watch a match between Ishidun Geriuusk and Maiko Vijun. As he was thinking and listening a tiny girl who looked quite young kicked his guide in the shin.

Noticing the robes and the respect his guide paid the girl he immediately figured that she was a higher rank, something comfirmed when he noticed her band. He found it slightly odd at her age and size, but considering he appeared quite a bit younger than he was, it could be something similar with her.

Bending down so he was at eye level with the Vice Captain, "Hello Seleck Heletrumn, I am Ikkou Maydarme, prospectively of the seventh army." He said as he held his hand out to her.

She shook it quite happily, her charms that of a child, nothing more, apparently. "Prospectively? What seat?" She asked, as the man interjected.

"Zero seat, ma'am." He spoke, as Seleck nodded, trying to pay attention. The man whispered into Ikkou's ear. "She's an Aursauk; a orphan raised to become a soldier. Don't let her appearance deceive you - she's in such a position for a reason."

"I'm Mr. Ishidun Geriuusk's Vice Captain, and I'm managing the things day to day while Mr. Geriuusk gets things settled out." She said, smiling brightly. "Tell me Mister, do you like chocolate candles?" She asked, pulling out a small packet of odd candle shaped chocolates, some of them already slightly melted.

Kaza watched as Gengur left and took his own leave not wanting to waste time, which could be used for training. He turned and left heading towards the training room. Here he would hone his skills. He entered the training room and looked around.

"And now to perfect the Final Stance."

The Final Stance was called as such because it would be the last stance an opponent ever saw. Each Final Stance was unique, but all delivered a fatal blow.

"Final stance? Interesting." Vijun said, nodding. "Can it avoid gunfire?" He asked, sheathing his sword.

"such a student would be wise to phind a new master. he would learn as many phallasies as truths under such a one as you deskribe. the student's task is to learn, not to please the whims oph a phool.

regardless, to answer your kwestion... i phollow orders, save in a very small number of sirkumstanses.
I am not exactly known for obeying inkompetents when doing so is detrimental to the objektive, phor example. chain of kommand is important. suksess is more so."

"I learn nothing from a teacher, for I have none. This occupation is not a teacher-student relationship. It's an officer-soldier relationship, and such the philosophy applies here. Not believing in your commander creates a rift of general disorder, and disorder is more detrimental to success than poorly assumed incompetency.

Ikkou was almost tempted to convey the general impression of 'Duh' to his quide but the fact that he was helpful, generally nice and maybe just hadn't failed to realize that it was obvious that this organisation wouldn't collect useless dead-weight stayed his actions.

"It is a pleasure to have met you and perhaps in future we will be working in similar positions. As to chocolate candles, I can't quite say if I like them as they are a food I have never heard of before. What are they like?"

ooc: Jenrak, did you miss my reply in As Cruel?

((other words))

"I learn nothing from a teacher, for I have none. This occupation is not a teacher-student relationship. It's an officer-soldier relationship, and such the philosophy applies here. Not believing in your commander creates a rift of general disorder, and disorder is more detrimental to success than poorly assumed incompetency.


"In all order is inherent chaos. in all chaos, inherent order. layers within layers, each one intertwined with the next. It is how reality phunktions. too much order, nothing new kan emerge. too much chaos, and everything is destroyed.

besides" he finally blinked, looked down, and then back up again, his previous unblinking stare replaced with one made of cold iron and a grin that would be charming combined with any other expression. "you'd be amazed what i can do with Chaos." a dramatic moment and motion, from which most would immediately cringe or defend, then the expression vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, replaced with a calmer, more friendly attitude

"besides, my phirst test oph You is komplete. i may not know what you have done, but i know what you wish to be, and by extension, what you Are. kan you say the same oph me?"

he shrugged, and turned away slightly, now standing off to one side of the young vice commander. it was doubtful she'd noticed the transition from one location to another, but quite likely she'd notice his shift in stance, and thus the other changes.

"in truth, i am not sure why we kame to be speaking of teachers and students. i was referring to the sekond halph oph the kwote.

it is simple. konstant testing prevents korruption, reduses error. this is the point.

ahh, you so long phor order that you give up your mind to it. Every superior is a teacher, iph you will learn phrom them. every new situation an opportunity to learn. as such, each must be tested phor phailisies. what good are you to your superiors iph you do not learn phrom them? what hope have you when all your beloved Order is stripped away?

and what good are they to you if what you learn phrom them is phalse?

mind you" his expression shifted again as he half turned and favoured her with a friendly grin "i'm more stable and a greater lover oph order than i seem...

the balanse is the key. tip it too phar either way..." he made balancing motions with his hands, tilting them further one way, then the other, until the relevant range of motion was exhausted and he could not move further while maintaining the image of a scale, then moved further anyway, disrupting the image "disaster.

and one such as yourselph should never be in that situation. there will not always be a stronger leader to protekt you, to drag you up phrom the konsikweses of your own mistakes. it is worth thinking about, is it not?

so, will you ask another kwestion?

or have i broken your poor mind already?"

Ikkou was almost tempted to convey the general impression of 'Duh' to his quide but the fact that he was helpful, generally nice and maybe just hadn't failed to realize that it was obvious that this organisation wouldn't collect useless dead-weight stayed his actions.

"It is a pleasure to have met you and perhaps in future we will be working in similar positions. As to chocolate candles, I can't quite say if I like them as they are a food I have never heard of before. What are they like?"

ooc: Jenrak, did you miss my reply in As Cruel?

OOC: I think so. I'll check.

"If you light them as you would light a candle, they turn into chocolate sauce."

"In all order is inherent chaos. in all chaos, inherent order. layers within layers, each one intertwined with the next. It is how reality phunktions. too much order, nothing new kan emerge. too much chaos, and everything is destroyed.

besides" he finally blinked, looked down, and then back up again, his previous unblinking stare replaced with one made of cold iron and a grin that would be charming combined with any other expression. "you'd be amazed what i can do with Chaos." a dramatic moment and motion, from which most would immediately cringe or defend, then the expression vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, replaced with a calmer, more friendly attitude

"besides, my phirst test oph You is komplete. i may not know what you have done, but i know what you wish to be, and by extension, what you Are. kan you say the same oph me?"

he shrugged, and turned away slightly, now standing off to one side of the young vice commander. it was doubtful she'd noticed the transition from one location to another, but quite likely she'd notice his shift in stance, and thus the other changes.

"in truth, i am not sure why we kame to be speaking of teachers and students. i was referring to the sekond halph oph the kwote.

it is simple. konstant testing prevents korruption, reduses error. this is the point.

ahh, you so long phor order that you give up your mind to it. Every superior is a teacher, iph you will learn phrom them. every new situation an opportunity to learn. as such, each must be tested phor phailisies. what good are you to your superiors iph you do not learn phrom them? what hope have you when all your beloved Order is stripped away?

and what good are they to you if what you learn phrom them is phalse?

mind you" his expression shifted again as he half turned and favoured her with a friendly grin "i'm more stable and a greater lover oph order than i seem...

the balanse is the key. tip it too phar either way..." he made balancing motions with his hands, tilting them further one way, then the other, until the relevant range of motion was exhausted and he could not move further while maintaining the image of a scale, then moved further anyway, disrupting the image "disaster.

and one such as yourselph should never be in that situation. there will not always be a stronger leader to protekt you, to drag you up phrom the konsikweses of your own mistakes. it is worth thinking about, is it not?

so, will you ask another kwestion?

or have i broken your poor mind already?"

"You wasted alot of talk time, and alot of my time." Izmishnu said, unaffected. "I have a schedule, and I cannot be rambling philosophy with you. So, unless you would prefer to be ejected from the tournament, you will need to answer my questions."

"Thank you for the subtle compliment." Mengiko spoke, his eyes still fixated on his clipboard. "Though, to let you know, my fighting abilities are the weakest within the Menekrungo. I'm still a Kerahou class Menekrungo. If you want to see misleading, look at Ishidun Geriuusk - he epitomizes capability and strength like none I've ever witnessed before." He replied. "Number 10 will be your opponent." Mengiko spoke, showing him the clipboard file.

On it showed a camera image of a frowning, scowling man whose face was hidden behind a long, spanning cone hat, his face melted and burnt beyond comparison, a veil covering his face. He had a long drape of velvet robes upon his small shoulders, his arms fairly well built as a dagger was apparently lodged in his back. No weapons were listed under his name. "Lately he has shown the least capabilities in terms of performance. If you cannot beat the weakest, then you are not fit to be in the tournament. Is that fair? If so, I will call him down."

" I find this more then fair, Send him to me at once so I am this show on the road." spoke Agent 3 handing the clipboard back

OOC: sorry so short.

"Final stance? Interesting." Vijun said, nodding. "Can it avoid gunfire?" He asked, sheathing his sword.


"The Final Stance against gunfire. Hmm there have been cases where the bullet has been avoided but this is more down to the sword striking before the trigger is pulled.", Kaza replied unsheathing his sword.

"That sounds like it would be good on cake or ice cream, maybe for dessert I can get one from you to go with some ice cream?" Ikkou asked as he wondered who'd had the idea for such an invention.

OOC: I think so. I'll check.

"If you light them as you would light a candle, they turn into chocolate sauce."



"You wasted alot of talk time, and alot of my time." Izmishnu said, unaffected. "I have a schedule, and I cannot be rambling philosophy with you. So, unless you would prefer to be ejected from the tournament, you will need to answer my questions."

"ahh, but phirst you would have to ask them, no?
it is not as iph i have rephused to answer any kwestion onse it has been asked."

"The wise student speaks only when told to speak, for that is what the master wishes." She replied back, still writing down on her clipboard. "How good are you at following orders?"



"The first is Karakorun Mengiko, the High Captain of the Vizithkanju. He is a genius mathematician and very good logical problem solver. I have heard rumors that despite being the High Captain, he in fact, the weakest of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. After that comes Sekai Hamruun, leader of the Policing squad that deals with making sure that the Menekrungo stays intact. He is a cold, somewhat melancholic figure, though his skill with a sword is apparent. He is arrogant, as I've seen, but that's because he grew up as a Krejeistan noble, and likely taught that everything around him was trash. Third is Ishidun Geriuusk, the first Serahou Class Menekrungo."

"Ishidun is a good person, easy to get along with and compassionate. He, does, however, possess incredible skill with the sword and with hand-to-hand fighting, and the only person who can hold his own against Maiko Vijun, eighth Menekrungo Vizithkanju. Afterwards comes Hazhoku Genkon. I heard that he is a handsome, charismatic and charming man, but underneath that lies a business-like, cold and efficient killing man. It's best not to anger him. Fifth is Mekumunos Haruim, the only female in the Menekrungo Vizithkanju. She, however, plays the battlefield role. She is different in that her capabilities lie with a gun rather than a sword, and such she is pragmatic, logic-driven and always thinking. She..." The man slightly sighed, closing his eyes, "...is also quite the looker."

"Sixth is Farkas Darkholme. He is a bit hot-headed and proud, but loyal to the crown and loved by his department. He manages the Temsplace, and such he carries many traits of the Temsplace within himself. Seventh is the one you're trying to gain wing under; Gengur Ushuimaru. Of all the Menekrungo, I would say he is the most sadistic. He suffers from Krykkioz, a disease he contracted during his time living in Malaga under the Kraven occupation. He has a strong hatred for Jenrakians, and the only reason why he doesn't rebel is because of his strong loyalty to our good King Suriga. He always has a plastic, indiscernible smile about him, and it makes it very eerie. Finally, the eighth, as mentioned earlier, is Maiko Vijun, the strongest of the eight. He is lazy, laidback and easygoing, but don't let that get to you; he's a damn good fighter, and I've never seen him lose to anybody."

As that finished, a small, tiny girl, aged possibly around eight or nine, wearing the traditional robes of the Menekrungo, kicked the man in the shin, as he groaned in pain, furious. "You little punk..." He started, before getting a good look at her, stopping his parade as he bowed his head low. "Ma'am!" He said, holding still.

"Who's that with you?" She asked, a bright, sunlight smile on her face. She had a lock of sandy and somewhat messy brown hair atop her head, and she could be mistaken as somewhat of a boy at first glance, though her shining emerald eyes and high pitched voice gave her gender away magnificently. She was tiny, going up only to the man's knee cap, and yet on her uniform, she carried the familiar golden band on zero seater Vice Captains. She held her hands out to Ikkou, as if to shake them. "Hello! Name's Seleck Heletrumn of the 3rd army."



"Instantaneous velocity and instantaneous acceleration. The weights on my legs are not for training. The reason is that Gengur is not moving at incredible speeds, but he is going to his top speed and back to his bottom speed nearly instantly. For that, a force of a few thousand newtons are required to achieve that sort of acceleration, and thus the weights serve as a stopping point and a starting point. Akin this to how your hand moves from one spot to another. You see only the beginning and ending location, just a blur in between. The reason is because you are capable of exerting a force powerful enough to instantly accelerate your movement to its top speed, and then move it down to zero." Vijun explained. "The sort of warfare is applicable to guns in the fact that, when done appropriately, serves as psychological warfare. So far, I've been trying to find a way to make after images, but that's difficult to attain."

"Intersting." Captain Wall said, obviously troubled by this information. "Why did you show me this?"

"Intersting." Captain Wall said, obviously troubled by this information. "Why did you show me this?"

"Because the strongest way to fight and win a battle is with logic. A little hint for the future; it'll have you go a long way in the tournament. There's more than fists and blades in this little competition."

"ahh, but phirst you would have to ask them, no?
it is not as iph i have rephused to answer any kwestion onse it has been asked."

"Biding time is just as annoying and a waste of my time." She replied. "So, how aware are you of your prospective Captain, Gengur Ushuimaru?"

"That sounds like it would be good on cake or ice cream, maybe for dessert I can get one from you to go with some ice cream?" Ikkou asked as he wondered who'd had the idea for such an invention.

"Go with some ice cream? I'm not sure what you're saying there, sir." She said politely.

"The Final Stance against gunfire. Hmm there have been cases where the bullet has been avoided but this is more down to the sword striking before the trigger is pulled.", Kaza replied unsheathing his sword.

"Very interesting." Gengur replied, coming back, his legs slightly sore. "I didn't hear much of what you said, but you said something about pulled triggers?" He asked, chuckling slightly at his own bad hearing.

" I find this more then fair, Send him to me at once so I am this show on the road." spoke Agent 3 handing the clipboard back

OOC: sorry so short.

"I assume you will not kill him unless he plans on killing you. I plan to keep the casualties to a minimal." Mengiko replied coldly.

((words))


"Biding time is just as annoying and a waste of my time." She replied. "So, how aware are you of your prospective Captain, Gengur Ushuimaru?"

((other words))

"he exists. i believe he was the one who gave that nise little speech bephore unleashing kriminals and rabid dogs upon us. killed the seventeenth man to survive out oph hand, which was, so phar as i kould see, wastephul at the very least. other than that, a whole lot of nothing. a phakt i wish to change.

did you realize, by the way, that as we've konversed more and more of your statements have not direktly related to what is aktually going on around you?

your thoughts are bekoming disjointed, and disordered, it seems."

Akira was now standing on one leg, the other ankle resting on his knee, arms crossed and in front of him as if resting on a ledge. actually, 'standing' was less than accurate. the way the leg that was still in contact with the ground was bent, he was almost sitting. in mid air no less. he'd practiced his balance this way so much that it seemed almost a natural 'at rest' position to him, at least for a little while.

"Because the strongest way to fight and win a battle is with logic. A little hint for the future; it'll have you go a long way in the tournament. There's more than fists and blades in this little competition."


"indeed. Shall we continue with the interview?" Captain Wall said, thinking over what he had just seen. if i could apply that technique to my style, i could become nearly unstoppable. To be able to instantly gain and lose the momentum that my style is based upon....

"Very interesting." Gengur replied, coming back, his legs slightly sore. "I didn't hear much of what you said, but you said something about pulled triggers?" He asked, chuckling slightly at his own bad hearing.


"I shall repeat myself. The Final Stance is based on each Warriors unique personality and fighting style and should take into account all battle situations such as having a gun pulled on you. In this event it is wise to strike before letting the opoonent pull the trigger."

"Stick it into the ice cream like a candle and then let it melt so as to provide a chocolate topping, unless ..." He trails off for a moment, "Could it be that you don't know what ice cream is?"

"he exists. i believe he was the one who gave that nise little speech bephore unleashing kriminals and rabid dogs upon us. killed the seventeenth man to survive out oph hand, which was, so phar as i kould see, wastephul at the very least. other than that, a whole lot of nothing. a phakt i wish to change.

did you realize, by the way, that as we've konversed more and more of your statements have not direktly related to what is aktually going on around you?

your thoughts are bekoming disjointed, and disordered, it seems."

Akira was now standing on one leg, the other ankle resting on his knee, arms crossed and in front of him as if resting on a ledge. actually, 'standing' was less than accurate. the way the leg that was still in contact with the ground was bent, he was almost sitting. in mid air no less. he'd practiced his balance this way so much that it seemed almost a natural 'at rest' position to him, at least for a little while.

"Save your mind games for one who plays." She replied, moving onto the next question. "Have you met any of the others?"

"indeed. Shall we continue with the interview?" Captain Wall said, thinking over what he had just seen. if i could apply that technique to my style, i could become nearly unstoppable. To be able to instantly gain and lose the momentum that my style is based upon....

"That's a basic overview of the interview I have, I'm sad to say. If you ever need any training or wish to learn anything, I'm more than happy to teach you." Vijun said, walking off.

"I shall repeat myself. The Final Stance is based on each Warriors unique personality and fighting style and should take into account all battle situations such as having a gun pulled on you. In this event it is wise to strike before letting the opoonent pull the trigger."

"Very interesting logic." Gengur said, smiling. "I wish I could do that." He said with a false, almost sarcastic envious tone. Although he did not specifically say he could, it was heavily implied in his jokingly manner. "Well, I don't have much, so that'll conclude today's interview. Do you have any questions?"

"Stick it into the ice cream like a candle and then let it melt so as to provide a chocolate topping, unless ..." He trails off for a moment, "Could it be that you don't know what ice cream is?"

"Why would I not know what Ice cream is?" Seleck replied with curiosity, as the man slapped his head in disbelief.

"You know, we're not that isolated." The man replied. "Oh, and thanking for providing entertainment. Your interview is over."

Captain Wall walked to one of the training rooms, and attached an extra weight to his already heavy sheathed sword. He then for hours proceeded to swing from a standstill at a wooden dummy, stopping the sword just before impact. This was, of course, to train him to be able to accelerate and decelerate his muscular movement faster, but would take several days before there was a noticable change.

Eventually, from the announcements, a speaker splashed forwards a loud message to all. "Attention all participants. Please go to the backyard for the beginning ceremony of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju tournament. All Menekrungo Vizithkanju and Menekrungo Herethkanju, please go to the backyard audience seats."

I hope we dont have to fight again, I'm tired. The Captain thought, as he made his way to the area.

"Save your mind games for one who plays." She replied, moving onto the next question. "Have you met any of the others?"

((words))



"hehe. the only ones who do not play, are those without minds. others are, at best, simply unaware that they do so.

as phor 'the others', by which i assume you mean 'the other members oph the Menekrungo Vizithkanju' i do not believe that i have, no. though one never knows."

"I have heard that some strange traits and lack of knowledge of 'usual customs and sayings' exists in Jenrak, so ice cream might not be something prevelent here." Ikkou replied as his guide self-abused.

"I take it then that you are not the seat you claimed to be. What may I ask is your name by the way?"

Akira had found the interview entertaining, in a way. eventually the vice commander had got the answers to her questions... it would be interesting to see what she made of the whole exchange.

he made his way to his place for the upcoming ceremony.

'this should be interesting'

Kaza watched Gengur walk away and felt anger rise up due to the patronizing tone he had just heard. As he watched an announcement was made for all participants to make their way to some meeting.

"Well I'll show him. The higher they are the further they fall.", commented Kaza on the situation.

Where once the bloodied, corpse filled backyard was, now laid a large steel square of an arena, at the far end a semi-circle of eight chairs filled in by eight figures all draped in silvery, elegant robes that flowed like navy candle smoke. One the far left was a sandy haired man with a set of thin square glasses, his face somewhat fair yet obviously studious, a simple looking blade tucked neatly in a sheath at his waist. Karakorun Mengiko, the first and high captain of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, leader of the administration army.

Beside him was a man of elegance, nobility, aristocracy and beauty. He had a strong, disapproving look upon his face, his face very much akin to that of a beautiful man, his features more of high prestige rather than attractiveness. He carried half closed, almost frowning eyes atop a long silvery mat of hair, his skin untouched as he sat beneath a beautiful white umbrella laced in pearl and silver. Sekai Hamruun, leader of the judicial army.

Next came a man with a glowing aura of warmth and acceptance, a smile of genuine excitement on his face, his thin lips cracked up into a happy grin. His eyes were half closed by the smile, his cheeks bulging and his stance leaning back slightly upon his shoulder-length snow white hair. Ishidun Geriuusk, covert ops leader and special strike forces.

Beside Geriuusk was a man of impeccable attractiveness and pose. He was beautiful in all aspects; from his long, sleek black hair to his cold, yet caring stare, to his finely carved bone structure, he watched carefully and kept his face silent with politeness. Upon his back, a giant behemoth of a sword was tied by a golden chain. Hezhoku Genkon, Scout and Patrol Lord.

If Genkon represented beauty of men, then next came the epitome of Jenrakian beauty; a somewhat cold, silent, fierce faced and piercing eyed silver haired woman. Her lips were thin and sharp, her features pragmatic - they looked best without makeup of any sort. She was Mekumunos Haruim, the battlefield's beauty.

From somewhat small Haruim came a large man of powerful posture and pose with a charismatic presence, yet while in his uniform still half drenched in armor. He had a cleanly nearly-shaved head, his face showing a neat mat of a beard amidst watery slightly hazelnut eyes. He was a rippling figure, highly fit and strong. Farkas Darkholme, sixth Captain and Temsplace Management Lord.

Beside him was the prodigy; the somewhat short, rude and sarcastic Gengur Ushuimaru, his face smiling his plastic, unbreakable smile, his face creepy and eerie with a cold, icy aura shivering about him with an unheard, cackling malice. He was the captain of the Inner Guards, and the personal bodyguard of Suriga Kataask.

Finally, the laziest of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju sat cross legged on his chair, a tall glass bottle in his lap as he sipped from it slightly, his sword crossed upon blood stained bandaged wraps, his face once more covered by his veil and wraps as nothing but moving slits amidst a blizzard of cotton whiteness was visible.

Standing, Gengur Ushuimaru spoke into a microphone in his hand. "Hello! This tournament will begin immediately. Those not in the immediate fight please go to the edges of the arena for your own personal safety. The first number must go to the south corner." He yelled, pointing to a red-markered end. "Then second to the north corner." Once more, another markered end. "Number 1 and Number 2, please go to your respective markers." It was Ikkou, and a fighter under the release of number 2.

Having been unable to find out his mysterious guides true identity, he thanked them both and with a faint bow to each he headed down and out to the arena after stopping to take a piss and pick up his blade.

Briefly looking up at the eight captains he curled his legs under him as he took a seat. When his number was called Ikkou stood as to await the instructions. Upon confirmation that he was up for a match, he made sure to offer the same bow to each of the eight captains as he had to Seleck and his guide. Proceeding to his corner he then bowed to his opponent and awaited for either a signal to begin, an action from his competition or a listing of the rules then a signal to begin.

While he waited Ikkou took the opportunity to study his opponent for his preference of weapon, where his weapon was kept, his expression, stance, the way he was dressed and even the way he kept his hair combed or not for all could reveal useful information.

Number was shown. He was a man named Kakushujiin Maratume, a man with a long halberd of an axe perched neatly atop his back, tied together by a series of freely flowing silky wires. He had a lower split robe of a knives at his waist, his head covered by a long and wide spanning cone dipped hat that cast black shadows over his heavily tanned skin. Upon it, his face was drenched in blackness, his shoulders showing thick, rippling muscles throbbing out as he watched Ikkou with equal interest. He bowed in respect, quiet and staunch, like stone, before holding his halberd out, straight and at his waist, before shifting it up to his shoulder.

At the Captaincy hold, Gengur smiled. "Oh? Isn't that the Hiratsuki style of the Kyoto Shogunate?" He said, as Genkon nodded slightly.

"Seventh Lord Ushuimaru, you have it off. It is akin to Hiratsuki, but it isn't. I would say it's a version he modified so it could work with that large halberd of his. Though I'm more interested in those knives at his waist." Genkon said, looking carefully.

"Why is that, Hezhoku?" Geriuusk said, smiling with excitement. "They could be for decoration."

"Stop your jokes, Geriuusk. Surely you can see the barely visible wires on the ends. He must use them as weapons somehow, possibly like a puppeteer."

"My, my." Gengur chimed. "Isn't that a bit cliche?"

The man at the north corner nodded. "I wish for a fair fight to both of us." He said with an honest, polite respect.

Captain Wall watched intently from his seat. There was probably much that he could learn from this match, and he didn't want to miss a thing.

"I will not hold back." Ikkou replied as that was to his code a fair fight, for outside of a duel that had codified rules there were no rules and none had as yet been given.

He stood in a loose stance, much as any man might stand while waiting for something to happen such as the arrival of the bus. He for the moment kept his robe on while the hilt of his blade poked out from the opening.

Looking to Gengur, he asked, "Shall you signal beginning or may be commence when we wish?"

"You may begin whenever you want." Gengur said, walking off the arena.

Kakushujin closed his eyes, pushing his halberd deep into the ground like a javelin, flinging himself high up as he stayed upon the pole, his knives flying off his waist as they flew with incredible diligence and elegance towards Ikkou, their fangs bared.

Ikkou wondered at Kaku's plans for those weilding large weapons needed immense amounts of strength to use thier weapon, in this case a halberd, to thier full effectiveness, that and the limited number of possible attacks made the weapon less than effective in a one on one duel. As the knives were thrown he slid back so that they would land a couple feet in front of him based on where they'd been thrown.

It did seem that Kaku had done some work to deal with the traditional weaknesses of reach weapons with his knives however it would take a few more tricks than that to give him a decent competitive edge.

"Is he trying to corner him?" Geriuusk asked, as Mengiko shooked his head.

"It's likely he's trying to attack. Any fool should be able to know that attacking with range puts you at a disadvantage up close. So my guess is that he plans on striking long in hopes that the other man will come up close to his supposed blind spot." Mengiko spoke briefly, swiftly, and with accuracy.

"All logic, no skill. So that's his approach." Gengur spoke, smiling.

Kakushujin jumped from his pole, reaching his halberd once more, holding it straight and steady as he pointed the edge downwards, his fingers still connected to his knives by thin, barely visible cables. He tilted his end of the handle up, careful and steady. Genkon looked forwards a bit, as if in disbelief.

"Houtensenshou. To believe someone knows that in this day and age." He said, impressed. "A perfect defensive stance."

"Ah, but what if this guy uses a perfect offense?" Geriuusk asked, looking at Ikkou.

Kaza watched the fight with interest. He did not believe in the range attack, after all there were special groups dedicated to that back home. He watched as the two fighters watched each other and reacted to each others moves.

Ikkou continued to watch his opponent for flaws other than those implicit in a weapon such as a halberd. It did seem that, unless he were much stronger than he appeared and thus capable of weilding the heavy weapon one-handed, then he had to choose between weapons.

Deciding on a course of action, he moved toward Kaku his hand drifting to the hilt of his blade. He intended to test Kaku's defensive ideals before deciding on how he wished to finish the battle. He intended to simply use the sheath to strike rather the blade for even thought it did decrease the speed somewhat, it was still going to be exceptionally swift. The blow was targetted for Kaku's halberd rather than his body.

If Kaku reacted as Ikkou believed he would then an actually strike would bisect the weapon and effectively cripple himself.

Kakushujin held it steady, his stance still as he swiftly moved his hands to the front of his halberd, holding and gripping it tightly as he swung with his body to the right, the rod from the halberd swinging around with a strong snap of noise in the end. He frowned, his face contorting into strong concentration.

"Oh? So it's not the blade, but the rod that becomes the weapon. That's not Houtensenshou." Geriuusk said. "Looks like we overestimated him."

Ikkou slid down and under swing changing his strike from a slash to a thud that should serve as an effective knock out. As he had gotten quite close to Kaku, with less distance than a traditional attack would need to be executed. With the tremendous speed that marked the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryū style he drew the blade a portion of the way out with the intention of knocking Kaku out with a blow from the hilt to the chin.

Unless Kakushujin had reflexes far greater than he had yet exhibited he would receive a most telling and stunning blow at the very least and a straight knock-out being the more likely out-come.

"Oh? Ikkou has this one in the bag." Geriuusk said, as Mengiko nodded.

"Take a closer look." Genkon spoke, as they watched. "Kakushujin seems to have thought this out quite well."

At Kakushujin's feet, his needle-like knives flickered and splashed out like droplets of sharp steel towards Ikkou, his fingers flailing as if they were marionettes. Mengiko frowned, as Haruim chided.

"Amateur." Haruim spoke. "This fight has been decided. Kakushujin has this one lost."

"Why do you think so?" Geriuusk asked.

"This style that Ikkou has shown is distinctly close to Iaijutsu. The basic premise of a striking attack at this range is the sheer strength and speed upon which the attack is executed. It doesn't matter what kind of defense Kakushujin has; he'll be broken because he underestimated the attack power of his opponent." Haruim explained.

Haruim was quite accurate in her assessment, thought not perfectly so for it was not strength that was one of the two pillers of but instead precision when combined with the godlike speed that made it so very deadly. Case in point was an application of the 'covering' techinques for the Battōjutsu. Instead of the secondary strike that was needed to cover the moment of vunerability the sheath was utilized to deflect the various knives as the hilt of Ikkou's blade cracked into Kaku's jaw.

Unless Kakushujin had the fortitude of a bull then he'd be down for the count or at least so far out of it that he might as well be.

Akira watched quietly from his place. the halberd, a two handed weapon, was by definition unsuited to be paired with other weapons, save perhaps a gun or bow for those situations where the melee was not called for. the fact that the two weapon types this Kakushujin had chosen were so different also meant that he had to think along two entirely different paths, while wielding a two handed weapon primarily with a single hand. few could do the first with any skill, especially when it came to such different weapons, and the physics alone made the later issue significant regardless of strength.

in truth, the halberd could only be used effectively as a distraction unless the knives were discarded.

there were many ways for a halberdeer to defeat a swordsman. the man's style's most distinctive feature was that it prevented him from employing Any of them.

"the fool had lost before he began."

Kakushujin was bloodied, battered and his flesh was raw, around the crown of his mouth, blood splashing like a wild fountain from his teeth, yet he still stood, groaning and frowning in pain. "I'm...not...down." He complained, trying to regain his strength, as Mengiko looked a bit more carefully.

"I see. So that's how he survived the initial test." Mengiko replied, referring to Gengur's ridiculous initiation ceremony. "His endurance likely allowed him to...oh, there he goes." He said, as Kakushujin finally fell, his body in a bloodied heap. Gengur rose, smiling his usual plastic, false, yet eerie smile. "The clear winner is the south corner. Because of your overwhelming victory, for an additional bonus prize, would you like to have a friendly spar against a more difficult opponent?" Gengur asked.

"Not yet it seems..." Ikkou commented as he watched Kaku bleeding and staggering, "But you are now." He added as his opponent tottered and finally landed with a thud.

"What, if you do not object to answering the question, would the bonus prize and who would be the more difficult opponent?" He enquired as both were helpful to know before he accepted. There were also those other competitors to hold thier matches.

"The bonus prize is a personal strike team of your choosing and constitution. The obstacle you must overcome is a first seater Menekrungo Vizithkanju in my army."

"So I have to be able to beat someone who I would rank, should I be victorious?" Ikkou commented as it should be viable save for one slight problem, his potential opponent had already seen some portion of his style where he would not have that option.

"I shall accept, but in fairness the other worthies should have a chance to exhibit themselves as well."

"It won't take long." The familiar voice said, walking onto the arena. It was the man before who stood and had a talk with Ikkou before the tournament. "Battojutsu user, are you?" He said in broken speech, as if set loose. "I'll have to use Battojutsu as well, then." He said, his hand dangling above his end of the handle, his face in a contorted smile. "Eighth army first seater lieutenant, Harakaru Toshijuzio." He bent his left leg forwards slightly, his right leg back a bit. "Show me that battojutsu; the one you beat Kakushujin so easily with."

Kaza sat up in his chair. He had been carefully studying the two fighters performance and had noted Ikkous style well. It would help in the future. However now he would see a leading swordsman at work. Kaza could learn from him through watching his style.

"Harakaru...Toshijuzio? A foreigner as the first seat lieutenant?" Geriuusk asked, oblivious of the irony in the fact that he himself was a foreigner. "What are you thinking, Paedovijun."

"I'm not a paedophile." Vijun complained, as Haruim nodded.

"He hasn't done the deed. He won't be able to for at least a decade."

"Eight years old, eh? She getting around well enough?" Genkon asked, as Mengiko cleared his throat.

"Be quiet." Mengiko ordered as they frowned at him. "The tournament takes uttermost priority to your silly gossip and talk."

Walking up beside Kaza, a woman with long lavender hair chuckled slightly, almost with an evil, yet oddly warmth of a chuckle. She had a fair face, slightly calm yet it belittled her strong form - she was obviously in top shape given her long, lean and powerful arms and legs wrapped in white linen. Her sleeves were rolled up neatly, revealing only the tiny bits of her forearms, her head showing half a headband tied to the crown of her forehead. "Despicable, isn't he?" She asked Kaza, looking at Gengur. "He grew up with the Kraven, you know. Gengur Ushuimaru is the second weakest of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju zero seaters, but he's manipulative and not above taking cheap shots. In all likelihood either you or Ikkou will be chosen. I'm warning you; don't let your guard down around Gengur Ushuimaru. Do you want to know his weakness?"

Gengur still sat there, watching the tournament, his left hand perched beneath his chin as he leaned forwards, his eyes flashing left and right as he surveyed every crack of the battlefield, a thin, long and eerie smile on his pale, innocent-looking face.

"Sneaky one. I was wondering at your real rank and name." Ikkou commented as he took notice of Harakaru's stance. "If that is what you desire."

Rather than leave time between word and action he began moving as soon as he'd spoken 'You'. With the speed of Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryū he crossed the distance as his blade seemed to materialize in hand and arcing toward Toshi. Unless Toshi was very much skilled he was about to find himself checked as Ikkou was taking the 'friendly match' to mean to 'touch' rather than injury.

ooc: Touch being a blow being rested against/just above the skin that if it had been completed would have done injury.

Harakaru blocked the incredible strike with his own battojutsu, yet the end of his sword was supported by additional strength from a smash of force from his left fist, his blade still in his sheath, undrawn. Locking it into place, he slid his sword out in midair before tilting his handle to allow his sheath to slide underneath Ikkou's sword, attempting to give him ample space to lift the man up by the end of his sword.

"It would seem he either wasn't paying sufficiant attention or he failed to realize the meaning behind it." Ikkou thought as Harakaru used his sheathed sword to block the blade itself. While fairly impressive on its own, it did mean Hara's analytical skills were less than what they would be if Ikkou had any chance to do some training to dish out.

The sheath strike of the Soryūsen was on its way to hit and unless Harakaru was better than he seemed would be leaving with a number of broken ribs, the result of the 'pulled' punch for otherwise it would have been a fatal strike.

Harukaru merely continued his attack, shifting his sheath up, giving him ample space to move it down to block both the sword and the oncoming sheath. "The Soryūsen can only be employed when the first strike is a miss. If the opponent should block, your arm range is limited by the length of the opponent's sword. You're good, but half-assed Hiten isn't going to beat me." Harukaru said, twisting his sword free, moving back a bit before he bent his leg forwards, his right leg tilted back, his left arm high behind his back before his right arm gripping the end of his sheath in a whiplike fashion.

"Actually the Soryūsen can be used even against an opponent who's blocked. And while it is true that you are limited by length, it often has no bearing on the situation." Ikkou said as he slid back the moment Harukaru disengaged, "And I am offended, when I throw my ass into something, I throw my whole ass into it."

He then looked at his sparring partner expectantly.

ooc: Sorry for lateness, RL's being busy, what with work and family arriving.

"Odd saying." He said, holding the end of his sword tightly, ready to brandish it like a whip. "Say, have you ever heard of Watoujutsu?"

"Not really." Came the reply as Ikkou's eyes twinkled as he watched Harukaru. "I've heard of it mentioned in passing as an effective art, thought like all it has its flaws."