okay so. i decided to give this a shot today. so yeah. this just a basic open challenge. basic gunjin rules, and i would prefer not to use the BoW. i'll just grab a random battlefield from the BoB(book of Battlefields).
ok?
*waits*
Open Challenge.
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deathscythe
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Open Challenge.
Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,
Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,
Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,
This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget,
Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,
Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,
This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget,
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deathscythe
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- Joined: Sun Feb 19, 2006 2:03 pm
- Location: This question always has been creepy
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Galefore
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- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
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deathscythe
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- Location: This question always has been creepy
OoC: I guess it goes to Galefore since he accepted first, but Alex if you want to you can open up a challenge i kind of have a enough spare time for two battles i suppose. (I decided we should just make up the battlefield as we go on) Sorry if my grammer and spelling is rusty. =/ yeah.
Slowly the fog hissed in the cold icy field, the air reeked with the smell of death, bloodshed, and the air sounded of the cries of suffering dieing men. The army had been ambushed by one, and one alone.
"Do you see what happens when you walk into my territory. Let this be your lesson" said the one man. He was tall, and fit. His eyes were nothing special to look into unless you could see the devotion in his eyes. The devotion he works so hard for and strives harder and harder for. He head very long black hair, and carried one large sword. The Sword of His very own fate happened to be big enough to take down 2-6 people at once if he would ever need to. Size was not the only thing going for the sword, it was also very strong. almost unbreakable by any standards that was all he really need.
The man carried no other weapons but his body strength more than made up for it. He wore long loose black clothes so you couldnt really tell it but he had enough strength to pick up trees out of the ground. He could also just about out run almost anything thrown at him.
He had few real powerful magic abilities but he did have one strong enough to pack a punch. It was the one thing he had ever really took time to learn which was kind of bad for him because he had grown rather sloppy with it. He could make a body part much larger than its actual size to bring more force with his blows. But it could go real bad, if he was to over estimate he could lose the body part forever.
"Is there no challenge out there for me?" he asked too all the men who were still alive, and were barely able to run away. "Who will confront me?
his name was Raven Redgitaria
And he was looking for the fight of his life.
OoC: sorry gale, i kind of disappointed myself on the descriptions and size. i need to get better. =/
Slowly the fog hissed in the cold icy field, the air reeked with the smell of death, bloodshed, and the air sounded of the cries of suffering dieing men. The army had been ambushed by one, and one alone.
"Do you see what happens when you walk into my territory. Let this be your lesson" said the one man. He was tall, and fit. His eyes were nothing special to look into unless you could see the devotion in his eyes. The devotion he works so hard for and strives harder and harder for. He head very long black hair, and carried one large sword. The Sword of His very own fate happened to be big enough to take down 2-6 people at once if he would ever need to. Size was not the only thing going for the sword, it was also very strong. almost unbreakable by any standards that was all he really need.
The man carried no other weapons but his body strength more than made up for it. He wore long loose black clothes so you couldnt really tell it but he had enough strength to pick up trees out of the ground. He could also just about out run almost anything thrown at him.
He had few real powerful magic abilities but he did have one strong enough to pack a punch. It was the one thing he had ever really took time to learn which was kind of bad for him because he had grown rather sloppy with it. He could make a body part much larger than its actual size to bring more force with his blows. But it could go real bad, if he was to over estimate he could lose the body part forever.
"Is there no challenge out there for me?" he asked too all the men who were still alive, and were barely able to run away. "Who will confront me?
his name was Raven Redgitaria
And he was looking for the fight of his life.
OoC: sorry gale, i kind of disappointed myself on the descriptions and size. i need to get better. =/
Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,
Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,
Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,
This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget,
Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,
Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,
This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget,
-
Galefore
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- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
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deathscythe
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- Joined: Sun Feb 19, 2006 2:03 pm
- Location: This question always has been creepy
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
OoC: Kind of bad, but hopefully I'll do better next post.
“But of course, dear boy. I see you’re quite confident in that chunk of steel you use to end those around you… How very becoming, you’re nothing but an ass.”
That voice was the voice that had soothed many souls and similarly aggravated them. It had calmed many minds and simultaneously used them for gain. It was the voice of a man whose favorite food was the flesh of his opponents, who loved the fear in the eyes of children, who could manipulate the blood in a man’s body… And was quite the sharp dresser. He slid a hand of long, double-jointed fingers into a pocket on his jacket, a stereotypical black jacket worn by those heading to ballrooms. His bowtie was neatly secured, and his red undershirt and white vest almost smelled clean and tidy. He had a wide grin on his face, and a mouthful of white teeth. Clean, black dress pants and leather shoes finished his look of perfect tidiness, as well as short, well-groomed brown hair. He had calm, yet piercing eyes, seemingly grey yet in reality a light shade of blue.
“I do hope that doesn’t start us off wrong, because I am certain you could easily cleave my head off…”
“Quiet. Are you here to challenge me, in this territory? I have the upper hand here.”
“I see. A cold, icy hell. You surely have the upper hand, I concede that to you. All I want… I a little blood. Sustenance. Something. Meat.”
A dumbstruck look spread across Raven’s face. Did he just say… Blood?
“Well, if you will not give me what I want, I could always take it by force…”
There was an awkward silence. Lucaster, as he was known, began to step forward, almost silently. The snow, falling even as he waked, crunched underneath otherwise silent footsteps, and he lifted an abnormally long hand to beckon. A trickle of blood flowed out of the man’s nose, and Lucaster’s eyes flashed… Was it black?! No, it couldn’t have been. An unusual power, that was all. The small stream of blood leaked to the ground, and Lucaster eyed it in an almost weary way. He stepped closer and reached towards the ground… And his arm was easily cleaved from his shoulder by an enormous blade.
“What are you?! I warn you, leave this territory or I will finish the job.”
“…Oh my, again? This is why I rarely indulge in conversation with your type, you mongrel. Fine, I’ll humor you. You’ll get… A challenge.”
With that, Lucaster’s arm disappeared, as did Lucaster. He was… Gone. An enemy who disappeared with no real reason, one who took with him his losses. His arms had been… Severed, right? Then why did it seem to Raven as if his enormous cleaver had not connected?
Behind him, he felt a prick, and turned to see the demon quickly hopping back and away. Lucaster’s arm had returned, it seemed… Perhaps it had never come off? It had seemed to connect… Lucaster’s insidious grin sickened Raven… He would have this one killed quickly.
“But of course, dear boy. I see you’re quite confident in that chunk of steel you use to end those around you… How very becoming, you’re nothing but an ass.”
That voice was the voice that had soothed many souls and similarly aggravated them. It had calmed many minds and simultaneously used them for gain. It was the voice of a man whose favorite food was the flesh of his opponents, who loved the fear in the eyes of children, who could manipulate the blood in a man’s body… And was quite the sharp dresser. He slid a hand of long, double-jointed fingers into a pocket on his jacket, a stereotypical black jacket worn by those heading to ballrooms. His bowtie was neatly secured, and his red undershirt and white vest almost smelled clean and tidy. He had a wide grin on his face, and a mouthful of white teeth. Clean, black dress pants and leather shoes finished his look of perfect tidiness, as well as short, well-groomed brown hair. He had calm, yet piercing eyes, seemingly grey yet in reality a light shade of blue.
“I do hope that doesn’t start us off wrong, because I am certain you could easily cleave my head off…”
“Quiet. Are you here to challenge me, in this territory? I have the upper hand here.”
“I see. A cold, icy hell. You surely have the upper hand, I concede that to you. All I want… I a little blood. Sustenance. Something. Meat.”
A dumbstruck look spread across Raven’s face. Did he just say… Blood?
“Well, if you will not give me what I want, I could always take it by force…”
There was an awkward silence. Lucaster, as he was known, began to step forward, almost silently. The snow, falling even as he waked, crunched underneath otherwise silent footsteps, and he lifted an abnormally long hand to beckon. A trickle of blood flowed out of the man’s nose, and Lucaster’s eyes flashed… Was it black?! No, it couldn’t have been. An unusual power, that was all. The small stream of blood leaked to the ground, and Lucaster eyed it in an almost weary way. He stepped closer and reached towards the ground… And his arm was easily cleaved from his shoulder by an enormous blade.
“What are you?! I warn you, leave this territory or I will finish the job.”
“…Oh my, again? This is why I rarely indulge in conversation with your type, you mongrel. Fine, I’ll humor you. You’ll get… A challenge.”
With that, Lucaster’s arm disappeared, as did Lucaster. He was… Gone. An enemy who disappeared with no real reason, one who took with him his losses. His arms had been… Severed, right? Then why did it seem to Raven as if his enormous cleaver had not connected?
Behind him, he felt a prick, and turned to see the demon quickly hopping back and away. Lucaster’s arm had returned, it seemed… Perhaps it had never come off? It had seemed to connect… Lucaster’s insidious grin sickened Raven… He would have this one killed quickly.