Well then, I have invited a certain member from another board to have a battle with me here. Mainly, I want to show him our style of combat first hand, and he desires to show me his bio's power. So, I hereby give him this challenge to face.
Info:
The rules are as outlined in the Rules topic, stickied above this topic. Please, give 'em a quick run through.
The battlefield can be your choice. If you do not desire to make one of your own, take one from the book of battlefields, also stickied above.
I will be getting Selene Starblade to judge this, if that is alright by you. She is a local judge whose system pinpoints any fault. She is well suited to judge this little match.
I'm using a non-bio character. Don't get up in arms, here's the deal: since he does not have a bio, his abilities remain a mystery. You dicover them as you go, and it leaves him room to grow. As such, I don't mind you using a bio. If you have any questions as to his ability, AIM me. The character will be Lucaster von Delsk, the "blood" elemental.
You may intro first; if you must, you may also set a post limit. I never do, but if you need to, you can.
Lastly, have fun!
Mori... A welcoming battle.
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
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Mori
- Member
- Posts: 18
- Joined: Sun Jun 17, 2007 3:57 pm
OOC: 5 posts each plus an intro
A Bulky figure shuffled across a field of shattered airships and various small fighter craft, these vessels once in the employ of an Emperor of unimaginable power. Looming overhead was a massive black triangle, the structure itself was upside down, the broad part of the triangle facing up and covered in gardens and buildings.
The slanted sides holding numerous hatches and hanger bays for the once broad fleet the now lay strewn about the ground. The bulky figure adjusted himself as he "stood" upright, looking about the field before descending back into his hunched state.
Nearly the size of a pick up truck, this figure was shrouded in a black robe with red clouds placed upon it in various spots. Two sleeves dangled at the sides as no arms were placed through them, the head itself covered by a large conical straw hats with small spike-like bells hanging from them. The hat itself had paper streamers all around it save for the front.
From beneath a clothe mask that covered the figures lower face, a gruff voice spoke "It's impolite to sneak around."
A Bulky figure shuffled across a field of shattered airships and various small fighter craft, these vessels once in the employ of an Emperor of unimaginable power. Looming overhead was a massive black triangle, the structure itself was upside down, the broad part of the triangle facing up and covered in gardens and buildings.
The slanted sides holding numerous hatches and hanger bays for the once broad fleet the now lay strewn about the ground. The bulky figure adjusted himself as he "stood" upright, looking about the field before descending back into his hunched state.
Nearly the size of a pick up truck, this figure was shrouded in a black robe with red clouds placed upon it in various spots. Two sleeves dangled at the sides as no arms were placed through them, the head itself covered by a large conical straw hats with small spike-like bells hanging from them. The hat itself had paper streamers all around it save for the front.
From beneath a clothe mask that covered the figures lower face, a gruff voice spoke "It's impolite to sneak around."
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
“Oh? How very rude of me. I suppose stalking my prey is no longer in style around here. My, my… We cannot have that, now can we? Hohohoho…”
The voice this utterly enormous figure heard, and practically felt, was that of elegance. It danced in it’s heavily refined wake, proud of itself, yet hesitant to lose the enormous ball of…. blood…. he had found. His very ego told him it was easy food, an easy hunt.
“But do not let my horrid manner ruin your moment. This… Graveyard of ships, as it were, is so very isolated. And you are so very foolish to enter my old feeding ground.”
He stepped out from behind a ruined cruiser, its majestic design heaped into pieces, some small bits of the former beauty still visible.
And there he was. A man in a simple business suit, clean, crisp, as if he had only recently rented it and placed it on his body. His face was clean shaven, his eyes slanted but wide open, cold and dark grey. His entire figure was slender, as if he had never eaten a day in his life, and his sunken cheeks and pale color denoted death. He wore his shoulder length brown hair tied into a simple pony tail. He seemed to be so concerned with his looks that even his dress shoes were shined to perfection.
But despite appearances, he was no vampire. Perhaps he could be described as a vampire of another kind, an elemental of blood, of pure horror. He had been created, a false elemental among the real ones, by magicians, sculpted to be a killing machine that mocked the mighty guardians. But his powers built a sickening craving for something he did not require; he wanted to drink blood, and eat flesh.
“I apologize, my large friend… My name is Lucaster von Delsk. I am known as the god of dusk to some, and a vampire to others. I assure you, titles mean nothing to me. I am merely a predator. And your blood…”
His tone was beginning to dissolve on his last words. From his sleeve came an enormous, long pole, a thin black blade sprouting from the top, then bending and coming down to half the length of the pole. Somewhat of a halberd, it seemed, and the very ornate nature of it denoted a former ornament stolen for his own good.
And in a horrid, dark voice, feral and hungry, came “...is my feast!”
The enormous figure never seemed to move. And Lucaster did not care. He sprinted with an unnatural speed for a human, dancing about behind the giant and running his dark weapon into his back. There seemed to be something in the way…
But nonetheless, it hit the skin, and it dug… And when it reached the desired area, the seemingly large creature wincing, he yanked it back out, and stared at the beautiful crimson.
And he licked it all from his blade, his eyes wild with hunger, his mouth surrounded by his meal.
“I have had my taste…”
He withdrew, his gentlemanly air returning to him.
“Now, sir, I would like it all.”
EDIT: Quick typo that needed fixing. It was inconsequential, but it was bothering me.
The voice this utterly enormous figure heard, and practically felt, was that of elegance. It danced in it’s heavily refined wake, proud of itself, yet hesitant to lose the enormous ball of…. blood…. he had found. His very ego told him it was easy food, an easy hunt.
“But do not let my horrid manner ruin your moment. This… Graveyard of ships, as it were, is so very isolated. And you are so very foolish to enter my old feeding ground.”
He stepped out from behind a ruined cruiser, its majestic design heaped into pieces, some small bits of the former beauty still visible.
And there he was. A man in a simple business suit, clean, crisp, as if he had only recently rented it and placed it on his body. His face was clean shaven, his eyes slanted but wide open, cold and dark grey. His entire figure was slender, as if he had never eaten a day in his life, and his sunken cheeks and pale color denoted death. He wore his shoulder length brown hair tied into a simple pony tail. He seemed to be so concerned with his looks that even his dress shoes were shined to perfection.
But despite appearances, he was no vampire. Perhaps he could be described as a vampire of another kind, an elemental of blood, of pure horror. He had been created, a false elemental among the real ones, by magicians, sculpted to be a killing machine that mocked the mighty guardians. But his powers built a sickening craving for something he did not require; he wanted to drink blood, and eat flesh.
“I apologize, my large friend… My name is Lucaster von Delsk. I am known as the god of dusk to some, and a vampire to others. I assure you, titles mean nothing to me. I am merely a predator. And your blood…”
His tone was beginning to dissolve on his last words. From his sleeve came an enormous, long pole, a thin black blade sprouting from the top, then bending and coming down to half the length of the pole. Somewhat of a halberd, it seemed, and the very ornate nature of it denoted a former ornament stolen for his own good.
And in a horrid, dark voice, feral and hungry, came “...is my feast!”
The enormous figure never seemed to move. And Lucaster did not care. He sprinted with an unnatural speed for a human, dancing about behind the giant and running his dark weapon into his back. There seemed to be something in the way…
But nonetheless, it hit the skin, and it dug… And when it reached the desired area, the seemingly large creature wincing, he yanked it back out, and stared at the beautiful crimson.
And he licked it all from his blade, his eyes wild with hunger, his mouth surrounded by his meal.
“I have had my taste…”
He withdrew, his gentlemanly air returning to him.
“Now, sir, I would like it all.”
EDIT: Quick typo that needed fixing. It was inconsequential, but it was bothering me.
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Mori
- Member
- Posts: 18
- Joined: Sun Jun 17, 2007 3:57 pm
Mori tilted his head down as his body was yanked by the weapon. Not a moan or sound of pain came from the behemoth as his hat hit the ground. Looking over at the small hole in his side he chuckled at his opponent.
"Too bad you tasted poison. You pierced a poison pouch I have stored within this puppet."
The head beneath the straw hat was still covered by a cloth mask, the head having long black hair hair pulled into a top knot.The figure turned his head and looked at the 'gentleman' before him as he turned to face him completely.
"But I suppose you're not the analytical type."
From beneath the sides and back of the robe, three large segmented tails emerged, their points ends all snaking up into the air before turning towards the fiend who'd taste their venom. The hulking figure stood up again as his robe fluttered in the front and four tubes launched themselves skyward above the man. These four tubes the size of a fire extinguisher seemed to move away from each other as they soared upwards before bursting open and spinning like tops as they descended slowly towards the earth.
As they spun, they released a hail of needles upon the battlefield. Each needle coated in a poison that caused paralysis instantly and would make the victim suffer for three days before dying in agony. The man didn't wait long as he made an arm pass through the left sleeve of his robe and before it could be visible, six purple balls that were crimson in color launched themselves all around the man.
The arm retracted within the robe as the figure watched the balls explode into clouds of poison gas, the needles flying down and piercing into the mans head, shoulders, and body. What ever movements the man may have made within the clouds of smoke was unknown to the hulking figure as he awaited the mans next attack.
"But allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mori, Puppet master. The God of Kugutsu."
With that the tails ripped the robe of the hulking figure to reveal four powerful legs supporting the body. Two massive arms that were segmented much like the tails unfurled as they spread open their claws and clicked them shut, a pair of normal arms with four segments each on the shoulders. the figure was still shrouded in black tattered robes covering most of the body to hide the wooden frame, making it appear more like a monster than a hulking man.
The claws themselves were metal and the edges serrated. The outsides of the upper portion of the claws were covered in blades to inflict as much damage as possible. The legs themselves had three segments and the feet consisted of three prongs that dug into the ground. The puppet towered over the clouds of gas awaiting the 'God of Dusk' to emerge dead or alive.
"Too bad you tasted poison. You pierced a poison pouch I have stored within this puppet."
The head beneath the straw hat was still covered by a cloth mask, the head having long black hair hair pulled into a top knot.The figure turned his head and looked at the 'gentleman' before him as he turned to face him completely.
"But I suppose you're not the analytical type."
From beneath the sides and back of the robe, three large segmented tails emerged, their points ends all snaking up into the air before turning towards the fiend who'd taste their venom. The hulking figure stood up again as his robe fluttered in the front and four tubes launched themselves skyward above the man. These four tubes the size of a fire extinguisher seemed to move away from each other as they soared upwards before bursting open and spinning like tops as they descended slowly towards the earth.
As they spun, they released a hail of needles upon the battlefield. Each needle coated in a poison that caused paralysis instantly and would make the victim suffer for three days before dying in agony. The man didn't wait long as he made an arm pass through the left sleeve of his robe and before it could be visible, six purple balls that were crimson in color launched themselves all around the man.
The arm retracted within the robe as the figure watched the balls explode into clouds of poison gas, the needles flying down and piercing into the mans head, shoulders, and body. What ever movements the man may have made within the clouds of smoke was unknown to the hulking figure as he awaited the mans next attack.
"But allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mori, Puppet master. The God of Kugutsu."
With that the tails ripped the robe of the hulking figure to reveal four powerful legs supporting the body. Two massive arms that were segmented much like the tails unfurled as they spread open their claws and clicked them shut, a pair of normal arms with four segments each on the shoulders. the figure was still shrouded in black tattered robes covering most of the body to hide the wooden frame, making it appear more like a monster than a hulking man.
The claws themselves were metal and the edges serrated. The outsides of the upper portion of the claws were covered in blades to inflict as much damage as possible. The legs themselves had three segments and the feet consisted of three prongs that dug into the ground. The puppet towered over the clouds of gas awaiting the 'God of Dusk' to emerge dead or alive.
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
OoC: I have a feeling mind games aren't your forte. And frankly, I no longer care.
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Gas, poison, needles… Were humans so foolish as to believe those things were of any consequence? The poison tasted of death, it tasted so familiar… He loved it. And even with needled forming spines, rows of patterns and randomization, he felt so liberated.
Blood… It fell from him. It leaked from him. His blood. His very life blood. His very life.
Life.
The gas was so trivial. Even as it passed away as a mere cloud, he felt his insides freezing, his body turning to mush on the inside. His mind was darkening.
It was death.
He no longer discriminated between the two. They were so similar… When one ends, the other begins. And from there, they continue. Interlocked, interwoven, pointless. And this beast of wood, so majestic, so beautiful, so abominable, stood laughing inside, insulting him.
And insults… Also so trivial…
His enemy was proud of himself. As a human. And deep down, hidden in archaic wood and a history of hiding from death, there was one whose very nature was human. A human who had emotions. Who thought independently. One who laughed, who cried…
Who feared.
And it was there; with its whip like tails, its majestic body, its power and size, there was no mistaking its brute strength. But it wasn’t perfect; it was weak enough to have a mind, a soul. A weakness shared by so many others. A weakness known as mortality.
“So, child, you taunt death. You make believe you are alive, underneath wood as a protection from simple harm… But I will dissolve this illusion. Weakling, see fear, see the devil.”
And as such, his ship yard disappeared.
In front of him now was darkness. Darkness sheer, so very mysterious. So very immaculate, not faulted by any light, anything but itself and the one within it. The puppet master. The human.
The shadows, like flickering flames, played in their home. All about him, he sensed eyes, he was being watched. He was being… Sized up.
And in this darkness, silent to the point of driving one mad, he listened. Lucaster must have been there. He had made it dark, how quaint. How pointless, how…
Terrifying.
All around him, he knew of silent watchers. His eyes could not adjust, and even yet, he saw shapes in the dark. Shapes of things he never wanted to see. Shapes so horrible, so glorious in their scope, they made his deformed shape seem so natural.
And he heard a voice. A screech. It came closer. Closer. And another. The shapes were coming. They were dark, their forms enormous, misshapen, riddled with many eyes and horns and weapons. And their eyes? Orbs of light, yellow, containing messages, containing hideous deaths playing over and over.
They cried. And as they cried, they let forth a horrendous stench, of sulfur and of death. From their eyes came tears of blood, tears of flame, tears of molten pitch. They claimed in the dark in many tongues that they would destroy him.
And in the center was blood. So crimson in took on a light of its own. It was above him, and around him were the demons he had felt.
He had feared.
He wanted to leave, he wanted freedom. Why play these mind games?
No, this was real.
He was human inside. He wasted tears at a time, he always felt his heart giving out what it contained: emotions.
And this inhuman rampage, festering beasts around him and a sea of blood above him, surrounded him. He was clutched in the bowels of this dark torture, fire igniting around him. He was surrounded by blood, it fell from the sky and encompassed his very being.
And in the blood, he saw Lucaster’s grinning visage.
“Oh, but could you see the size of your fear. Oh, but if only. I attack not your pathetic body, I attack your mind.”
And his face morphed. No longer human, no longer demon, it took on the form of something unrecognizable, wretched, with small yellow eyes, bloodshot, and an enormous mouth, lined with black fangs and a silver tongue. Within, he salivated blood, and as a waterfall, if fell…
And seeped into the wood, soaking it in its wake.
He felt it. Desperateness. He was surrounded, held by what haunted him in only his darkest and forgotten nightmares, staring into the face of the devil…
And just like that, he returned. In front of him stood the gentleman, lapping his own blood from his body. The wooden one knew it was only a mind game…
And he knew he must continue, and kill the wretch who pulled any fool’s emotion from him…
But he noticed one detail, just as Lucaster looked up with… Beady yellow eyes and a black grin. He was soaked in blood. And now, he was being constricted by an enormous force, constricted by Lucaster.
Lucaster… the devil.
---------------------------------------------------
Gas, poison, needles… Were humans so foolish as to believe those things were of any consequence? The poison tasted of death, it tasted so familiar… He loved it. And even with needled forming spines, rows of patterns and randomization, he felt so liberated.
Blood… It fell from him. It leaked from him. His blood. His very life blood. His very life.
Life.
The gas was so trivial. Even as it passed away as a mere cloud, he felt his insides freezing, his body turning to mush on the inside. His mind was darkening.
It was death.
He no longer discriminated between the two. They were so similar… When one ends, the other begins. And from there, they continue. Interlocked, interwoven, pointless. And this beast of wood, so majestic, so beautiful, so abominable, stood laughing inside, insulting him.
And insults… Also so trivial…
His enemy was proud of himself. As a human. And deep down, hidden in archaic wood and a history of hiding from death, there was one whose very nature was human. A human who had emotions. Who thought independently. One who laughed, who cried…
Who feared.
And it was there; with its whip like tails, its majestic body, its power and size, there was no mistaking its brute strength. But it wasn’t perfect; it was weak enough to have a mind, a soul. A weakness shared by so many others. A weakness known as mortality.
“So, child, you taunt death. You make believe you are alive, underneath wood as a protection from simple harm… But I will dissolve this illusion. Weakling, see fear, see the devil.”
And as such, his ship yard disappeared.
In front of him now was darkness. Darkness sheer, so very mysterious. So very immaculate, not faulted by any light, anything but itself and the one within it. The puppet master. The human.
The shadows, like flickering flames, played in their home. All about him, he sensed eyes, he was being watched. He was being… Sized up.
And in this darkness, silent to the point of driving one mad, he listened. Lucaster must have been there. He had made it dark, how quaint. How pointless, how…
Terrifying.
All around him, he knew of silent watchers. His eyes could not adjust, and even yet, he saw shapes in the dark. Shapes of things he never wanted to see. Shapes so horrible, so glorious in their scope, they made his deformed shape seem so natural.
And he heard a voice. A screech. It came closer. Closer. And another. The shapes were coming. They were dark, their forms enormous, misshapen, riddled with many eyes and horns and weapons. And their eyes? Orbs of light, yellow, containing messages, containing hideous deaths playing over and over.
They cried. And as they cried, they let forth a horrendous stench, of sulfur and of death. From their eyes came tears of blood, tears of flame, tears of molten pitch. They claimed in the dark in many tongues that they would destroy him.
And in the center was blood. So crimson in took on a light of its own. It was above him, and around him were the demons he had felt.
He had feared.
He wanted to leave, he wanted freedom. Why play these mind games?
No, this was real.
He was human inside. He wasted tears at a time, he always felt his heart giving out what it contained: emotions.
And this inhuman rampage, festering beasts around him and a sea of blood above him, surrounded him. He was clutched in the bowels of this dark torture, fire igniting around him. He was surrounded by blood, it fell from the sky and encompassed his very being.
And in the blood, he saw Lucaster’s grinning visage.
“Oh, but could you see the size of your fear. Oh, but if only. I attack not your pathetic body, I attack your mind.”
And his face morphed. No longer human, no longer demon, it took on the form of something unrecognizable, wretched, with small yellow eyes, bloodshot, and an enormous mouth, lined with black fangs and a silver tongue. Within, he salivated blood, and as a waterfall, if fell…
And seeped into the wood, soaking it in its wake.
He felt it. Desperateness. He was surrounded, held by what haunted him in only his darkest and forgotten nightmares, staring into the face of the devil…
And just like that, he returned. In front of him stood the gentleman, lapping his own blood from his body. The wooden one knew it was only a mind game…
And he knew he must continue, and kill the wretch who pulled any fool’s emotion from him…
But he noticed one detail, just as Lucaster looked up with… Beady yellow eyes and a black grin. He was soaked in blood. And now, he was being constricted by an enormous force, constricted by Lucaster.
Lucaster… the devil.
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Mori
- Member
- Posts: 18
- Joined: Sun Jun 17, 2007 3:57 pm
The hulking behemoth stood there as it scoffed at its opponent calling himself a devil and the wooden weapon a weakling. He watched as he started to lick his wounds as the behemoth awaited a counter attack. When his opponent spoke about his mind and not his body being attacked, a mock laugh came from within the puppet.
"You're on a Fools Errand."
The Puppet watched as blood oozed across the ground and rose up, covering it like a layer of red fluid as it turned it's gaze back to Lucaster. With that the Puppets claw shot out and latched around the grinning fools head and squeezed, the serrated edges digging into the darklings neck as the puppet raised him off the ground and the tails lunged out, thrusting into his body.
"I think you should see what devil you're facing."
With that the puppets massive body opened in the front and a figure in a black robe with red clouds adorned upon it stepped out and hopped down onto the ground. A red haired youth stared up at the prickled body of his foe, the claw holding his head and the tails sticking in his chest and stomach.
"Weaklings like you are usually no fun to butcher and preserve, and I see no unique skills worth saving."
With that said, Mori reached up and undid the buttons on his robe and let it fall about his feet. Two clawed wings spread from his back as his wooden frame was revealed. A bubble of steel seemed to be covering something on the left side of his chest. Four scrolls rested on a small rack attached to his upper back, right down the center.
An opening in his stomach showed a metal cable attached to a knife like point at the end. Beneath the stomach cable opening was a white sash around his waist that covered the waistline of his black baggy pants. His black sandals had white sleeves over them that went up and stopped halfway around his shin.
((OOC: for those with problems imagining: Appearance backrack))
He reached up and ran his right hand through his hair as he placed his other hand on his hip. He flicked his right index finger out, and the puppet started to squeeze it's scorpion like claw slowly, blood pouring down from cuts in Lucasters neck as the Puppet master sought to remove the head from the body. Shifting his index finger to the side, the tails began to twist while they impaled the darkling's body.
"You should have come better prepared."
Mori said as he lowered his right arm, letting it dangle at his side as he watched his puppet continue to work at breaking his opponent.
"You're on a Fools Errand."
The Puppet watched as blood oozed across the ground and rose up, covering it like a layer of red fluid as it turned it's gaze back to Lucaster. With that the Puppets claw shot out and latched around the grinning fools head and squeezed, the serrated edges digging into the darklings neck as the puppet raised him off the ground and the tails lunged out, thrusting into his body.
"I think you should see what devil you're facing."
With that the puppets massive body opened in the front and a figure in a black robe with red clouds adorned upon it stepped out and hopped down onto the ground. A red haired youth stared up at the prickled body of his foe, the claw holding his head and the tails sticking in his chest and stomach.
"Weaklings like you are usually no fun to butcher and preserve, and I see no unique skills worth saving."
With that said, Mori reached up and undid the buttons on his robe and let it fall about his feet. Two clawed wings spread from his back as his wooden frame was revealed. A bubble of steel seemed to be covering something on the left side of his chest. Four scrolls rested on a small rack attached to his upper back, right down the center.
An opening in his stomach showed a metal cable attached to a knife like point at the end. Beneath the stomach cable opening was a white sash around his waist that covered the waistline of his black baggy pants. His black sandals had white sleeves over them that went up and stopped halfway around his shin.
((OOC: for those with problems imagining: Appearance backrack))
He reached up and ran his right hand through his hair as he placed his other hand on his hip. He flicked his right index finger out, and the puppet started to squeeze it's scorpion like claw slowly, blood pouring down from cuts in Lucasters neck as the Puppet master sought to remove the head from the body. Shifting his index finger to the side, the tails began to twist while they impaled the darkling's body.
"You should have come better prepared."
Mori said as he lowered his right arm, letting it dangle at his side as he watched his puppet continue to work at breaking his opponent.