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OK, since you were so gracious to accept my challenge, it's time to battle!

Standard Gunjin rules.

I'll use my new character: Lehmton Klin.


Battlefield will be the Floating Kingdom.

Since you accepted the challenge, you go first.

OoC: I'm guessing this is Inferno's Floating Kingdom.

A rather worn-out looking man, dressed in a black winter coat, stood in the entrance hall of the mystical golden palace. He was staring intently at one of the many stunning statues placed in the hall. A few dragon guards looked at him with with suspicion and confusion.

"Is he cold or something?" one of the guards whispered to the other, who merely shrugged.

Finally, one of the guards, dressed in golden armor, approached the mysterious man and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned around, exposing two gigantic tusks, pale-blue skin and thick whiskers. It was clear that this man was...well, somewhat of a bipedal walrus. The dragon guard was taken aback, before he regained his expected composure.

"I know how to contemplate ideals..." this walrus man began, staring deeply into the dragon's eyes, "But do I know WHY I contemplate ideals?"

"I don't know, sir. Do you?" the dragon quickly replied with a polite tone.

The walrus-man never replied. Instead, he turned back to the statue, his nose twitching. The dragon guard who had just been rudely pushed aside maintained his polite composure before walking over to where the other guards were standing.

"I see he was a walrus." a guard dressed in silver whispered to the returning dragon. It was clear he was smiling somewhat, a bit amused by the visitor.

"Yes. We don't get many walrus-men around here, do we?" the golden-armored palace guard replied quietly. He shot a serious look at the silver guard, who dropped his smile immediately.

"...I don't think any place does." a third dragon, dressed in a dirtier silver, noted.

A tall, greyish-brown figure walked through the entrance hall, only briefly glancing at the statues it held, though he had to admit, they were rather breathtaking. This figure wasn't quite a man, he was more like a humanoid. He stood six feet tall, and on his small head were two small eyes, and a smile, etched on with a small artist's tool. He wore no clothes, though since he was a clay figure, it really didn't matter.


The clay figure stopped when he heard three guards talking about a strange walrus-man. I can't let those guards see me. he thought. I need to transform into something...stealthy. He twisted his body into all sorts of shapes, until he became a tiny, greyish-brown fly. He effortlessly buzzed across the guards, narrowly avoiding their hands to swat him, and flew behind a wall where the guards couldn't see him, and he promptly turned back. "Haha, too easy." he said to himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he was a strange-looking man dressed in a winter-coat, despite the fact that it was 90 degrees outside. He briefly saw a glimpse of the man behind the coat, seeing his pale-blue skin. "Is that guy cold or something? Well, that would explain the coat." he said to himself. He walked over to the strange man.

"...are you here to express confusion about my appearance?" the walrus-man questioned coldly, stopping the clay-figure in it's tracks.

"Uh, well, I was just wondering if you were cold, that's all. Just saw the blue skin and coat and th-" Lehmton began to reply, a bit put off by the cold tone of the walrus-man's voice.

"Tch. Society continues to label those wearing coats as 'cold'. How sickening." the walrus-man spun around, revealing to the clay-figure his inhuman features. "As lon-oh my." he coughed into a sleeve for a bit, recovering his composure. "As long as the world thinks in such a narrow-minded way...it will never avoid destruction." As he said this, the man clenched a gloved human-looking fist. "I am Wankoti, and I will critique until society changes the way it thinks!"

Unfortunately, Wankoti the walrus-man was a little loud, which disturbed and puzzled the guards. They whispered a bit amongst themselves, unsure what to think of Wankoti's words, or what to think of the clay-figure standing before them. Finally, the guard in golden armor approached once more, determined to clear things up.

"Damn, that guard heard us. Don't move, I'll take him out." the clay-man turned his right hand into a sledgehammer, and stretched it all the way to the guard. He then lightly, but firmly, tapped the guard on the head with his hammer-hand, knocking him unconcious. He didn't aim to kill the guard, just knock him out.

The clay-man then stretched his arm back and changed it back to a fist. "So, you're name is Wankoti, huh? I'm Lehmton. I also accept Lehm, but call me Lehmmy and I will kill you." Lehmton said the last part in a menacing tone. "Anyway, what do you mean by, 'Changing society's way of thinking'? I mean, I've faced some prejudice too, since I'm a clay figure, but how exactly are you gonna change how they think?".

"Oh. You're a clay figure." Wankoti noted.

"Yes! What did you think I was?" Lehm questioned, curious.

"I thought you had some sort of skin condition. Wasn't going to bring it up, but...well, yeah."

"Oh."

At that moment, two guards ran in, shouting. One of them pointed at Lehmton, while the other pointed at Wankoti.

"Hey, you! Knocking out guards is a strict violation of the law." the guard in silver shouted, pointing a spear at an unimpressed clay man. The guard in the silver of lesser quality pointed one at the walrus-man.

"How did you find out what happened so...quickly?" the walrus-man asked the guard.

"Well, sound travels quite quickly in this hall! Also we palace guards have a blood bond, created from years of fighting side-by-side." the guard in dirty silver chimed in.

"Now, normally we'd arrest people that knock out guards, but I have an idea." the silver guard put his right talon to his chin. "The king needs some entertainment."

"I see what you're getting at, Magfly!" the other guard exclaimed.

"The throne room is open for people to go in and have a nice duel, as long as they don't, well, break anything." Magfly noted. "If you two can put on a nice show, we'll let...whoever knocked out ol' Jeepster here go."
---

"Well, looks like we'll have to fight." Wankoti noted simply, scratching his head.

"Can you answer my question? About the whole 'changing society's way of thinking'?" Lehmton raised his clay hand slowly.

"He can do that while the fight is going on." Magfly said sharply, adjusting a camera to the head of a golden dragon statue. Several other guards, dressed in similar silver, were doing the same. The guard in dirty silver slowly raised his shield, ready to deflect any attacks that threatened the rich tapestries or statues. Almost systematically, others followed.

"...your move." Wankoti said to his clay opponent, as a chill wind seemed to grace the room.

Lehmton prepared himself for battle. "Well, since we're fighting for the king, we might as well put on a good show." the clay man said, transforming into a large eagle, with a wingspan of 5 feet, long, razor-like talons, and greyish-brown plumage. Lehmton flew a good 10 feet in the air, and narrowed his eyes at the walrus-man, his vision greatly improved with his new eagle form.


The clay-man, now a clay-eagle, swooped down with great velocity at his opponent, talons ready to go. Wankoti let out a cry of pain as Lehmton's talons lacerated the left side of his face, just under his eye. Lehmton landed down in front of Wankoti, and transformed back to normal. Wankoti winced slightly from his still-stinging wounds, blood trickling down his face.

Wankoti reached into his coat and pulled out a strange, cobalt-colored handgun. He pointed to the ceiling of the golden throne room and pulled the trigger. "Chill of the Damned." he whispered as he did so.

Instead of a normal bullet, a strange mist poured out of the weapon, and engulfed the room. Strange whispers in an alien language slowly seeped into the minds of the people standing in the room. A chill wind seemed to flow into the rather silent room, and Wankoti himself disappeared in the grip of the fog.

The mist eventually vanished by it's self, and with it the whispers ceased. The room was still cool however, and the walrus-man had vanished.

"Frost Strike!" a voice spat out from the direction of the ceiling, destroying any possible mystery or intrigue left in the room. Wankoti had launched off a frozen, icicle-covered ceiling, and it appeared that he was gripping a stalagmite in his hands. Before Lehmton could react to his opponent's overly dramatic attack, he felt a deep chill in his body. The stalagmite skewered his right arm, and ripped it from the rest of his body. The clay-man, though not exactly shocked to have lost a part of his body in combat, was still taken aback by the blue, frost-bitten color of his arm. The guards could see that the clay-man's body had been turned a slight tint of similar blue: less horrific than the arm, but still somewhat a sign of terror to come.

Lehmton looked at his now-stump of a right arm, as well as the strange blue tint it now had. It wasn't the missing arm part that worried him, his limbs fell off all the time, and they always grew back. It was the part that his arm was blue and frostbitten-looking.


The clay-man then realized that Wankoti was a more formidable foe than he first thought. Without saying a word, he morphed his left hand into a large double-edged axe and stretched it towards the walrus-man. Wankoti expected the axe to hit him in the face, but it instead sliced across his left tusk, cutting through it like butter. The gigantic tusk flew off and hit the ground with a CLANK sound. Wankoti moaned in pain as he grabbed the bloody stump of his tusk. "Doesn't feel so good to have a piece of you cut off, does it?" Lehmton said coldly. "And you also never answered my question about how you're gonna change society's way of thinking."

"Well, this kinda sucks. Now I look stupid." Wankoti whimpered, throwing the frozen stalagmite he had equipped himself with carelessly behind him, where it proceeded to break into smaller chunks of ice. After mourning the loss of the tusk, he silently placed it's broken husk on the golden floor. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a measuring tape, and, as Lehm looked in disbelief, he measured the length of the tusk. "Alright, 33 cm. Time to create balance." he put away his measuring tape and took hold of his remaining tusk.

There was then a great, disheartening snap in the glorious throne room. Some guards looked amongst themselves, wondering whether to cut this particular scene out of the final cut of the film.

"Hmm, looks close enough." the walrus-man said, seemingly proud of is accomplishment. Grasped in his gloved 5-fingered hands was part of his tusk, crudely ripped from it's base unlike it's twin. "Having only one broken tusk looks kinda dumb. It's gotta be in twos." Wankoti stated in a defensive tone while raising his hands. It seemed he thought his opponent and his viewers were criticizing him with their stares.

He gently placed the personally-shattered tusk next to it's fraternal twin. It was clear that one would fetch for a much better price than the other, but the walrus-man would have to think about that later. It was time now for him to explain himself a little bit. He pulled the cobalt-blue handgun from his coat once more, and aimed at the clay-man.

"As it stands now, society accepts one view over any possible others that may exist. For example, you saw my glorious winter coat and thought I was cold. But, did you hold the idea that I may have been hiding something at an equal level? I'm not free either: I saw you and assumed you had impotence. I did not consider the idea of you being a clay-man at an equal level. For society to avoid cataclysm, the people must consider at least two ideas for every similar dilemma! That is my mission: my goal." Wankoti ranted, his speech somewhat slowed by his missing tusks. "Who's with me!?"

The silence that followed was bone-chillingly deadly.

"Right, moving on...CHILLING BULLETS!" Wankoti shouted, pressing the trigger once. Than twice. Then a third time. With each press of the trigger, several shards of ice shot out of the handgun and raced towards Lehmton. While he was able to smack down quite a lot, all of the first group and part of the second group of the shards pierced through his clay body and smashed into the shields on the guards standing by.

The blue tint of the clay-man's body darkened a bit: not many of the dragons standing by noticed a change. The holes, new wounds created by Wankoti's strange attack, slowly closed up with clay, but a chill continued to be felt by Lehmton. Damage had been done: and it continued to creep up...
---
OoC: I'm perfectly fine with you regenerating clay body parts like your arm. It'd make more sense with your character, after all. Sorry this post took so long, by the way. Did some traveling to see family.

OOC: These things happen, don't worry about it.

Lehmton shuddered at how cold his body felt. He had a feeling that this would come back to bite him, so he used his left hand to dig into his body and pull out the ice shards, along with bits of clay, shuddering once more at the pain of pulling the shards out of his body. He knew it was a longshot, but he hoped getting the shards out would do something, anything other than put him in more trouble.

When he felt he pulled out most of the shards from his body, he noticed his body had changed to a slight greyish-brown tint, and he felt relieved, although he was a little thinner from pulling out so much clay out of him. Lehmton then turned into a 6-foot long cobra, forked tongue sticking out and ready to strike at any given moment. the clay-snake lunged at the walrus-man, and bit into his meaty, blubbery left thigh with a CHOMP! Wankoti groaned in pain as the fangs broke skin and scraped across the thigh, leaving a 2-foot gash across it.

Wankoti fell onto the ground, taken aback by the fresh wound. The cobra readied itself, before launching at the walrus-man once more. This time, Wankoti kicked the clay cobra in it's face using the strength of his right leg, setting it back a few feet. He quickly picked up the cobalt handgun he had dropped in pain.

The walrus-man took aim at the ceiling, and pulled the trigger of the handgun. "Chill of the Damned." Wankoti announced, preparing everyone for wonder. A familiar mist covered the room, and with it, the whispers returned as a wind blew through the room. To Lehmton, it seemed that they were getting...louder.

"Chilling Bullets...but of the Damned!" a familiar voice cried, as the sound of a trigger being pulled was sounded. Large shards of ice swarmed upon the clay-cobra once more. About 6 shards pierced through Lehmton's grey body, before speeding on and being shattered by the mighty decorated shields of the dragon guards. 4 more, however, refused to leave the body of the clay-man. His body's color tone became a darker blue, and new whispers seemed to be voicing inside his head.

The mist cleared, and Wankoti's location was clear once again. Something had changed, though. The same disturbing fog that had covered the field twice now was flowing out of the wounds inflicted on his thigh and left cheek.