I suppose the other guy whom I'm supposed to be fighting forgot to check up on his posts... which leads me to where I am now. Open challenge, with me utilizing Ceryl, my only character. You may choose entrance and first strike as well as arena-unless you want me to decide...
EDIT: One more thing. If you do accept, I hope you can post regularly. It's no fun being ignored...
Well...seeing as how I'm up for achallenge, I'll accept. I'll take first strike, if you don't mind, since Ijust finished up an arena for my fight with Nid. And yes, I shall post regularly.
OOC: The arena is a buried temple in the earth. Quite cliché, yet suitable to my tastes…
IC: Ceryl crawled through the low hallway on her hands and feet, her hands slapping wetly in the blinding darkness. The ceiling had caved in long ago when the temple had been abandoned, leaving barely one and a half feet of space for her to squeeze through. Luckily, the ceiling had been stopped from falling all the way and blocking her entrance. Though they had been exposed to the harsh weather for centuries, the stone walls still stood, preventing the ceiling from falling in completely. However, smaller pieces of the stone roof covered the bottom of the hall, and, through the years, the water from the rain had dripped into the floor, making the once sacred white floor muddy and slippery. But although she was wet and cold, Ceryl did not mind. She barely noticed at all, so focused was she on her feeling. She could not describe the feeling, except that is was familiar, almost nostalgic. It was calling out to her, and she was drawn to it.
Though she had been traveling for some time, Ceryl was still bursting with energy. The nearness of the feeling tensed her muscles and filled her with strength as she continued her venture. After a short period of time, light began to shine into the corridor. Eager to find the source of her strange attraction to this place, Ceryl quickly pushed herself out of the hall and stood up. Dim light fell through from a crack in the roof. Her eyes quickly looked around, trying to find the thing that called her… but nothing was there. The temple was empty, devoid of people and animals. Rather, it was filled with the likenesses of gods. Strange, alien figures lined the halls, both terrible and awe-inspiring. The stone that they were made seemed to glow with divinity and burst with power, so real were the statues. Only the fixed poses gave them away, their stillness belying their stances of dignity, along with the gigantic cobwebs that stretched from mossy wall to mossy wall, shrouding them in silk worthy of emperors. Barely readable runes lay etched into a faded white circle on the floor. Between the statues, ancient steps reached up into another landing, upon which stood a great altar, decorated with ornate reliefs and a large bowl of metal and stone. An earthy smell permeated the whole building.
Ceryl took no notice of her surroundings, however; she was more concerned about the feeling that drew her to this place. In this huge, empty room, the attraction seemed to be coming from near the altar. Taking a step forward towards the feeling, she suddenly had an odd sense of foreboding. Cautiously taking one more step, Ceryl felt something disturb the temple's interior. The earth shook slightly, and she fell back, taken by surprise. The nostalgic feeling was gone, torn apart and replaced by a feeling of dread. Something was wrong. Something was here, blocking the feeling and radiating hostility.
Closing her eyes, Ceryl put her hand on the hilt of her trusted sword Ailanzar, using it to amplify her senses. Combined with her Earth Skill, Ceryl's senses reached every part of the shrine's nooks and niches. Sure enough something was there. She could not pinpoint its exact location, but it was there. An aura of alien power surged from it, blocking her senses from directly identifying it. Opening her eyes and drawing her blade, Ceryl readied to fight. This… enemy, had interfered with her mission. Those who interfere… must be dealt with.
As Ceryl unsheathed her blade and moved into a defensive stance, her blade shining softly in the dim light, she felt a force of desire, a mix of emotion that almost sounded like a word -
"Ready…?"
The question did not need an answer.
OOC: So how was that? I'm a little rusty right now from lack of simming, but after I warm up, I should be okay.
Very good indeed! Let's Tango!
[COLOR="MediumTurquoise"]::From the ancient Citadel's inner sanctum, Coren, the White Angel, could feel the presence approach. He'd hoped to avoid a confrontation today, but now, as he glanced sidelong at the vaulted celing of the cathedral, he knew such was not his fate.
Coren had been knelt before the altar of a long-dead God, praying for his sin's absolution. Absolution he knew would never come, for he would never need it. The powers granted him by the Almighty above ensured that his stroke would always cut down the infidel, and rend the sinners of this world asunder. And as Ceryl approached, Coren saw no need to worry. She would be no different than the others.
As she entered the innermost sanctum, pulling her sword rather carelessly, Coren exuded a dimaura of light. Just enough to impress, and stood, levelling a gaze cold as the Heavens at his newfound victim.
[/color][COLOR="Red"]"ready?"[/COLOR][COLOR="mediumturquoise"]
True enough, her question needed no answer but the swooshing of Coren's deadly silver weapon through the air as he silently charged his opponent, Absolution's progress halting as she parried. His eyes flitted wide forbut a moment, having struck a superbieng without evenrealising it.
"I see" He smirked as he pressed the strike home, driving her slowly to the rear.
"Troubling though...how I failed to sense your powers. Oh well...thewre are many other ways to test one's prowess."
With that remark and a wicked smile, Coren stooped his weight behind the strike and flung her rearward, sending her with all the speed of a silver bullet crashing into the dingy alabaster wall behind her and enveloping her in dull grey dust shaken from the impact. He straightened, casually brushing a smudge of dust from his shoulder before once again levelling that wicked grin toward his new foe.
"Bring it girl,and God rest your soul."[/COLOR]
Very nice indeed...are you someone I know...or should know from the past?
Ceryl flew through the air, the impact from Coren's powerful attack lifting her off her feet. She had no way to stop her ascent and she could sense the wall behind her coming ever closer. If she hit it, she could shatter her spine, or her skull, leaving her unable to fight. Closing her eyes, Ceryl gripped her sword tighter. Only chance could save her now… Thinking that, her body hit the wall and the dust from the broken alabaster shrouded her form.
As Coren looked on, smiling his wicked smile, the dust from the ruined wall cleared, and… no one was there. Only cracked alabaster could be seen from behind the dust, a large crater in the wall's mossy surface being the only proof something had ever been thrown there. Ceryl, however, was nowhere to be found.
From behind Coren there came a whooshing sound, the sound of the wind… or the wind being cut. From out of the corner of his eye, he could just see the pointed tip of Ceryl's blade making for his unguarded neck. Ducking to avoid being decapitated, Coren left himself vulnerable carelessly. There was a loud thud, as Ceryl's foot collided with the White Angel's stomach, sending him flying onto the floor on his back. As he scrambled to raise himself to his feet, Ceryl's unhurt figure startled him. Though dusty, Ceryl had no wounds; or at least, appeared to have none. Her face bore no emotion, not the slightest hint of pain.
But Ceryl was hurt.
She had sustained terrible pain from her collision with the wall, and for a moment she felt dizzy. However, the thick moss on the walls had cushioned her somewhat, saving her bones and allowing her to quickly move out of the way before Coren could notice or the falling stone crush her. Chance truly had saved her. And now, she stood, sword clenched tightly in her left hand, red eyes burning, yet void of feeling.
Without letting Coren finish getting up, Ceryl drew out a wand the pouch on her left side. Raising it high, the tip glowed as she uttered the incantations to a level 3 Ice Spell. The temperature suddenly dropped, and the wet ground began to freeze. And,from the air above Coren and Ceryl, there came a shower of magical ice. Shards, glimmering and shining with clarity rained down from the air, directed by Ceryl's thoughts. For a moment, even Coren was mesmerized by them, by the beauty of the falling mirrors, radiating purity. But as the ice descended onto him, slicing his skin and numbing him to the bone, Coren was harshly brought back to reality. His owned blood washed over his right cheek, from where a blade of ice had sliced him from corner of his eye to the bottom of his chin. The taste of iron, soon filled his mouth, supplied by the red sea that bloomed all over his body.
Ceryl watch all this with a cold aloofness. She had no reason to feel sorry for this man; he had interfered, and so he must pay. Directing the last pieces of ice to settle in Coren's clothing, thus sealing him to the ground, Ceryl resheathed her wand, and again, brought Ailanzar to bear.
"Make your peace before your God," she whispered, as she prepared to run Coren through.
OOC: I don't think you'd know me... but I have been here before... My old account is gone... but my style is different now than it was then anyway.
Besides, Simbattling isn't as much fun without secrets...
Goodness! Let's do this thing!
[COLOR="MediumTurquoise"]"Yes! Yes!"
::As the cold slivers perforated his angelic flesh, Coren's mind swam in wave after wave of exquisitely executed pain. How he loved the heat of battle, the rush of taking a beating and giving one in return. As the storm subsided, leaving him to collapse to his knees in a puddle of his own blood, Coren's smile only grew. It was now his turn. It was now his timeto bring the pain.
"Very good indeed. Notmany combine the realms of physical and magical combat so well, young one. You do it nicely. However, allow me to demonstrate a more...refined approach."
His words did exactly what they were meant to do: Keep her distracted while his angelic flesh began to mend itself. As he spoke, he could feel flesh recombining, and torn blood vessels stitching themselves together. He'd elected to let his skin remain torn, so as to give the impression he was still grievously injured. No need to give away his secrets too early.
Drawing a short breath, he lunged foreward, Absolution's blade singing through the air ina vicious diagonal strike toward Ceryl's chest. He'd made his target obvious enough that Ceryl easily brought Ailanzer into position to parry the blow. Coren danced in a spiral past her right shoulder, bringing a horizontal slash toward the small of her back. A quick whirl and a practiced eye brought her bladeinto position once more, though this time she noticed an oddity about his strikes. When she parried, it seemed as though their blades weren't even meeting. It had been a suspicion she'd had when he'd first struck, but as they danced, and she defenced a third, fourth and fifth strike, the absence of impact, and the steadily growing whiteaura emitted from Absolution's blade roused her suspicions. No matter, Coren intended to silence her doubts presently.
*Force Harvest*
With his incantation, Absolutions blade grew white hot as Coren spun once again to face her, bringing his sword over one shoulder, it's gleaming power making him a stark silouhette before her. He brought the blade down sharply, his speed fierce and hard to match, though somehow she'd managed to bring Ailanzer into position. When one blade met the other Absolution's white aura exploded in a grand white flash, following Coren's strikedownward and bringing to bear against her relatively weak parry all the kinetic force he'd gathered fromhis previous strikes, shoving Ailanzer out of it's path and nearly out of her hands as the blade carved a wide, red gash from her right shoulder to her left hip, spinning her in midair before slamming her into the cold, unforgiving ground some ten feet to her rear. The explosion ofpure kinetic energy had shaken the entire hall, sending chunks of debris falling from the celing like tiny comets with long dusty tails. Coren stood directly in the path of one of the few rays of sunshine that managed to find it's way down this far into the Earth. The light shining upon him gave him avery disturbing holy presence indeed, contrasted starkly by the vicious smile that curled hislips, and the ravenous gleam in his stormy sapphire eyes.
"Now get up, so I might move on to the next lesson."[/color]
The wind whistled through her ears as she fell, pain bursting from her torso. Gritting her teeth, Ceryl called upon her Earth Skill just before she hit the ground, to soften the earth around her and thus reduce impact. Just in time too, for, a split-second later, her body landed on the ground. A dull thump resounded from the softened earth, the sound of air being hastily shoved out from between millions of magically motile molecules of marble. Again, dust rose to cover Ceryl's inert form, shielding her from Coren's sight.
From within the dust cloud there came a rasping sound, and Ceryl emerged, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. Her face was dirty from being covered in dust and smashed into the earth, her lips cut and bleeding. However, the rest of her wounds were not as serious as Coren had hoped. Her torso, which Coren had though he slashed, was not seriously hurt. Only from her shoulder did blood flow, progressing down her shoulder to drop one by one, soundlessly, onto the ground. Something had buffered Coren's attack. From where Ceryl's clothing had been torn, the White Angel could make out fine rings, twisted and bent into the rune "aegis."
"You made two mistakes…" Ceryl began coldly, her red eyes emotionless. "You didn't unleash a strong enough attack to penetrate my rune mail..."
So saying this, Ceryl's hand shift upward, bringing the tip of her blade to rest with her wounded shoulder. A cold gleam shone from the intricate pattern on the blade, mirrored by unforgiving look in Ceryl's eyes. Blood from her shoulder began to collect on Ailanzar's blade, running down its edge and tracing the curves on the flat of the sword. Coren felt something echoing from the sword as the blood began to dance, as if something were rising from it. Ailanzar's shadow began to grow and darken, as if it were solidifying.
"And the second mistake…" Ceryl continued. "Was causing me to bleed…"
Coren felt as if an unholy scream was rising in the back of his mind. For a moment, the tremendous presence from Ceryl's demon blade seemed to petrify him. In that discrete millisecond, Ceryl lunged at him, like a dark thunderbolt with crimson eyes.
Just as Ceryl slashed downward, aiming for Coren's throat, Coren's reflexes took hold. With little choice but to defend himself, he swiftly raised Absolution to block - chance would determine if he lived or died. Miraculously, his sword parried Ailanzar solidly. For a slice in time, the world seemed to halt as two blades embraced each other. Then Ailanzar shone and the air exploded.
Coren suddenly found himself on his back. Scrambling to his feet, he rose just in time to see Ceryl flying at him, sword drawn back, ready to strike at any one of his vital organs. Finding Absolution in his numb hand, Coren parried powerfully, knocking Ceryl's arm back in a wide arc-and leaving her open. But, as Coren prepared to slash at her, a sharp pain shot though the pit of his stomach. Ceryl had thrust a dagger in his stomach, burying it up to the hilt in Coren. Blood dripped down and stained the blue tassel on the weapon. Hesitating from the pain, Coren failed to notice Ailanzar sweeping into his chest.
The force from the blade enveloped him before the edge could even touch him, blasting him into the nearby wall. The tip of the dagger was snapped off in the shockwave of energy and embedded itself in his stomach. Shards of rubble and clumps of dislodged moss rained down from the ceiling, covering Coren.
"Ailanzar is a demon - it is strengthened by the shedding of blood, especially mine…" Intonated Ceryl's toneless voice into the echoing hall. "Soon, your blood will serve the same purpose…"
[COLOR="MediumTurquoise"]::The wall buckled, almost vaporizing upon Coren's impact, issuing forth a plume of thick gray dust, and obscuring him from view. A long moment of silence passed before Coren's voice could be heard, laughing. It was tremulous at first, amlst ahacking sound. But it grew, loud and obnoxious and resonant, a deep, sinister cackle.
"Then by all means...let the blood flow."
Ceryl could hear a strange squishing sound before the sound of her dagger's blade clattering to the ground. Obviously Coren had used one of many tricks in his bag he did not want her to see to remove the blade. As the dust began toclear, Coren stood, straight as an arow despite his wounds. Through the millennia, Coren had learned quickly to numb his own reception of pain, and indeed fight right on through it. That vicious gaze struck her once more, his bright azure eyes crackling with raw, unbridled power.
"When you call down the thunder, little girl. Do not be surprised..."
As he spoke, a low rumbling arose in the atmosphere around them. Only when Ceryl's hair began to stand on end did she realize what he was summoning. The room filled with supercharged ions, setting the entire atmosphere aflame with crackling white energy, manifesting itself in the form of tiny points of light scattered about the room like a voracious swarm of mad fireflies, flickering and darting every which way, their collective movement guided by Coren's gestures of hand and body. They coalesced around him as he danced, guiding them into a brilliant spiralling cone, enveloping him in blinding light. Ceryl, regaining her senses, lunged foreward, trying desperately to strike before Coren could, but found herself inundated by the supercharged ions in the form of a thick, white bolt of lightning that issued from Coren's arm as he thrust it toward her.
It must have felt like an eternity for her. Mostliving biengs never survive a split second of the kind of voltage he'd thrown at her, but when the first wave of nature's rage failed to knock her once again across the room, Coren added the remainder of the energy encircling him to the assault, effectively tripling the power of the attack and sending her like a smoking comet flying through the hot, arrid atmosphere before plowing her through the celine anginto broad daylight. She must have ascended ahundred feet into the air before the attack subsided, and the raw pain of the assault left her with hardly enough sense to realize she had landed hard on her shoulder, and only the cracking of bone as she landed gave her any indication of the damage the fall had incurred.
She stumbled on hand and knee while Coren ascended after her, langing on the grassy field some ten feet away, waiting patiently for her to recover. Indeed, he knew this was far from over.
"...By the lightning."
Again that brash, sinister chuckle taunted her, daring her to rise and silence him, if she could.[/COLOR]
Keep it comin! I love it!
As Ceryl ascended into the air, the flickering bolts of electricity rippled about her, filling her entire body with millions upon millions of volts. However, though the lightning rushed through her repeatedly, Ceryl felt no pain from it. The earth element that she was imbued from birth with protected her, bestowing upon her flesh the ability to insulate against electricity. It was only the heat that burned her, licking at her with its sparking tongues, searing across her skin like a brand. Pain filled her body, so intense that she could not concentrate enough to even save herself as she broke through the temple's dark ceiling.
Great pain burst across her as she burst free of the temple's dark halls and fell into the brightness of the day, a rain of boulders trailing after her. Dropping rapidly, the swift winds of Ceryl's descent extinguished the final flames that still glowed about her, and her wits returned swiftly. Digging deep into the earth with her power, Ceryl attempted once more to soften the ground. Again the earthy molecules began to split apart, filling their spaces with air. But the process was slow and Ceryl was out of time. A split second later, her body hit the ground with a powerful crack-the kind of crack that bone creates when it breaks. Over on a field ten feet away, Coren settled down to wait.
He did not have to wait long for Ceryl to respond. Quickly, she was on her feet, Ailanzar miraculously still in her grasp. Ceryl did not flinch as she got up, even when she lifted her right arm, which Coren had thought he had broken previously. Her wounds were not serious either; the only apparent wound was the red plumage that bloomed wherever she had been burned by Coren's electric storm - no blood had been shed. Her shoulder did not seem damaged either, but, even if it was, Ceryl was not about to show it. Her eyes still burned with cold determination. Stepping forward, her feet made a soft, rustling sound as they crushed the drying grass.
"Foolishness…" she rasped with contempt, her words slightly slurred by the blood in her mouth."You played right into my hands…"
So saying this, Ceryl drew out her rune wand yet again, in one smooth motion. Raising it swiftly to the sky as before, she muttered an arcane incantation in an ancient tongue. The tip of the wand seemed to glow as Ceryl brought her arm back down, so the rune wand's tip pointed towards the earth. The already burning heat seemed to grow even warmer as she chanted, and the exposed plant life started to wither in its presence.
"May the divine flames cleanse you of sin."
At her command, the ground and the tip of the wand ignited and burst into red, angry flames. Quickly they spread over grass and even dirt and rock, for these magical flames did not feed on organic material, but on the chemical flame that is inside every particle, the internal flame holding compounds together and giving them their identity. Bending and swaying brightly, rising high in the sudden wind, the blaze rapidly spread, burning anything that happened to be in its wake. The land was soon filled by the dancing embers, save for a couple of meters for the two combatants to stand on.
The speed of the flames had surrounded Coren before he had a chance to react. Now, as they drew closer, he finally tried to move away, to escape the blazing heat. But in vain! For, as Coren attempted to move, his feet would not move. As she had cast the spell, Ceryl had also tapped into her Earth Skill, trapping Coren's legs in gnarled, tight-grasping hands of stone that cut the circulation of blood to his feet. With no time left, Coren could not flee from the bright tongues. Excruciating pain must have run through him as the hellish inferno began to consume him. In no time the flames swarmed over him, like vultures to a carcass or fire ants to a helpless child. Immolated in the flares, his tortured silhouette became vaguer and vaguer.
Ceryl still did not pause in her assault however; Coren had to die. Calling upon Ailanzar for assistance, Ceryl channeled her energy into the earth, tearing massive boulders from the ground and raising them into the air. The stones, still enveloped in the magical flames, resembled celestial meteors as they rained down from the heavens, aimed at the incoherent figure blazing in the center of a sea of vengeance. The meteor swarm collided with its mark with the force of a mountain, deafening thuds and crashes resounded throughout the clearing while the earth shook with the force. When the last of the fiery missiles had fallen and no more thudding could be heard, the burnt land was littered with deep, blackened craters and empty of flames. Silence reigned for a few moments in the ash-filled air as Ceryl ceased her attack. She still remained where she had at the start of her strike, but now she was completing the finishing gestures to the spell and regaining her spent magical energy from the earth. Coren, however, was no where to be found.
Where Coren had been, there now was a mountain of dirt and rock, raised into the air like a grave mound. Somewhere in its depths, Coren was buried, encased in the packed earth. Dead or alive, only Coren's god knew, but Ceryl doubted the former. She could still feel his presence emanating from the clay walls.
"I know you're not dead… so come out so I can kill you properly."