TOA ROUND 3: Psychosyd VS True Omega

[psychosyd]

Alright, we only have 16 fighters left... and what a show it has been so far... lets continue to keep this thing going with a bang!

1. NO SIGNITURES!

2. No God Mods... you know the basics, "possesing characters", godlike abilities, cheapo moves, power dodging or Didging killing opponents stuff like that.

NOTE: The small time taking over, for like adding to battle posts are legal, as long as you dont hurt them or whatnot

3. 2 ways to win- Killing your opponent hte legal, way, getting them to accept the win, when you have bested them, or by a judges decision. ACCEPT it... if you have a problem with there decision, then PM me....

4. Judges will post who won, and a short paragraph on why they believe that person won

5. Round 3 starts on Sunday September 22... and will run till saturday the 28th

Round 4 starts that following sunday

So each tournament round lasts a week, you will have that much time to defeat your opponent. Topics will be closed on Saturday night, or sunday morning... if possible, and the next round will start. This tournament will be done in 6 weeks.

YOu may begin anytime

[psychosyd]

His blade slung over his shoulder, Sylius raced towards Lethalia, intent on the kill. Oddly, she did not move, make any counter, but just looked at him... a sad expression on her face. Her eyes seemed to pierce into his soul, gaze unwavering. Sylius broke his charge... watching, bewitched by her spell.

"If you remain here, and do not resolve your struggle, it will result in your destruction, just as it had so many years ago, except this time, there will be no victory. Beware my warning."

With that said, she dissapeared without a trace, her words like a physical blow. Sylius fell to his knees in sudden surpise, his eyes wide, and his soul torn. He could feel the division so strongly now. This meeting was not a coincidence... it ment he would adavance another round, but... her warning still lingered in his heart, the words echoing.

...will result in your destruction, just as it had so many years ago.

Sylius knelt, weakned, by the encounter as his mind raced over what it could mean. His mind traced back through the years.... trying to gain some clue as to what her words could have been telling him. He could remember as far back as his training in the Tower... anytime before that, he remembered fire... pain... crying... and images... faces. It was a jumble of thoughts. It also seemed a dark veil was hanging over him, over his thoughts and over his history. Slowly getting to his feet, he began his walk back to his dorm, tracing over his past, delving... his mind dark, Sylius sunken into a sad meloncholy. Sylius did not even notice the passage of time, he could only vauge recollection of returning to his room. It seemed time just slipped away, his own brooding thoughts only broken by the knock at the door, breaking the trance. Sylius looked up with a start, he must have stayed up the entire night. Walking over and opening the door, he found the attendant, a young one at that, could not be over 10 years old.

"Excuse me sir, but your summoning has come, you are to report to the north fields immediatly"

Sylius thanked the boy, handed him a few coins and then closed the door behind him. Leaning on it, he frowned, returning to his thoughts. The corner of his mind was silent, and did not help the situation any. Sylius grabbed his blade from the floor, leaving the scabbard, and walked out the door. His mind was abuzz with questions that did not have awswers. Why was his memory so jumbled... why was his past clouded with darkness... the hours of meditation spent on the future only showed an even greater darkness... it seemed almost a dream to him. Sylius made way to his destination.

The Northern fields, or the Emurer Fields as most people called them, were silent on this new day. The grass was green as anything, and waist high in some places. The soft wind blew, causing Sylius cloak to billow out from behind him, his elven mail glistening in the sun. These were the moments to live for, to fight for, to die for. In the distance, deer could be seen grazing on the young tender shoots. In the distance the mountains could be seen, jutting into the sky. It was quite peaceful at this time, and as Sylius breathed the air, his spirits lifted, his worrys forgotton for this time, his elven blood loving the freedom once more. Closing his eyes, he could feel the suns warm rays, illuminating the new day, just as he felt his souls worrys fading. Now all Sylius needed was the arrival of his opponent...

As the final gong rang in the personal box of the late Emperor, both fighters pulled back their rage. With a slight nod of his head, Aronel took his leave of Mina, and retreated to the shattered red double doors he entered from moments ago. He walked briskly back down the shadow veiled halls with his hands firmly at his side. He came to his darkened room, and entered alone to contemplate what just happened. The lone judge present sent them both away as he weighed the battle on his heart. Aronel knew the battle was close; the still smoldering runes on his shoulders were proof enough of the power he dodged. As he looked to the inscriptions branded on his cloak, a glimmer of light caught his eye in the previously pitch black room. The white glow came from behind the slit in the cloak, it came from the Aura. The Aura shimmered with a pale white glow normally, Aronel knew that, however, it never shone with such intensity that it passed through the scabbard. He put a great deal of his will and spirit into his weapon to survive the last round, enough still lingered in the mystic blade that it remained vivid even though the fury has passed.

He looked at the sheathed weapon for a few moments, until his curiosity broke, causing him to break the seal on the weapon. The weapon he held in his hands could easily be mistaken for an Aesirian weapon, something from the Allfather himself. Perhaps it was… Aronel thought to himself. It was said to be made by the last and greatest of Dwarven smiths, the ones in the employ of Odin. He looked closer to the majestic blade, to both sate his curiosity and to pass the time before the decision was reached. Through the pure bath of light, he could make out a faint relief in the blade. Runes on a weapon of Oriental design. It intrigued the man, though he could do nothing about it, for he knew not how to read runes, let alone faded ones.

A knock came from the door, freeing the platinum noble’s mind from its trap. It was Larvin, who came with the results in a wax sealed envelope. Aronel cracked the wax crest and read over the results.

Honored Contestant,

The battle was fierce, and hard to weigh in favor of either party. However, you have received the nod, and will be facing Lord Sylius in battle. The arena is in no state to fight in, as such, you will decide the next victor on the field of honor north of here. All due luck to you and your skill.

Committee of the Tournament

“Already? They waste no time here, there is no rest for the weary, only for the dead.” He took the path he had not yet walked down before, one that led to a great iron gate in the north, where the prisoners and beasts of ages past would be initiated into the bloody circus that was the Coliseum, he urged Larvin to stay there as he went on alone. He took the beaten path as long as he could, keeping his stoic eyes on the mountain before him. There, in the dispelling mists of the morn were the Emurer Fields, the fated field of honor was found at its foot. Somewhere there, in the leeward shadow of the towering hill was his foe. He walked onward, even as the road wavered and took a new path, he marched through the bogs and thick grass as the sun began to climb from his right. Then finally, Aronel was upon the field. Through the sea of rustling grass, he could make out the slim framed sillouette of his foe.

Sylius, an elven name? He said as he clutched the gilded clasp of his cloak. I will need all the agility I can gain to meet him at his level. The buckle clicked open, and Aronel stepped forward, letting the white cloak fall into the living ocean of avarice green. In a great contrast from the pure white hue of the cloak, Aronel’s body armor was almost of the purest black. The rising sun touched the armor, allowing the countless scratches and dents that littered the plates of the Sinner. Attacks that would pierce, shatter, or rend in general normal arms only served to give the Sinner personality. He saw Sylius turn to meet him face to face, yet Aronel said not a word. He merely raised his hand in greeting with a slight smile. His hand returned to his side, hidden among the thick grass, while the weak hold of the smile fell off and drifted away in the breeze. There was no time for talk. Aronel stepped forward for the time of action.

[psychosyd]

Sylius saw his opponent arrive, as if being rasied up from the ground, appearing, as if, by magic. As his opponent came into view, Sylius felt a sharp pain run through his body and suddenly, he lost all control, his mind not his... Sylius could feel another presence with him, there minds as one, Sylius could peer into this ones mind and see the past... it was the voice that had been with him since the begining... the one that had spoken to him on that dreadful night Sylius lost everything, and almost lost his life. He knew the name of his possesor...

Deaus

Deaus looked in awe at the appearance of this new opponent...

I know you...

Sylius/Deaus' thoughts became a blur, memories of the past filling their brain... images of the dead and dying... a noble sacrifice, great warfare... the sounds of blades clashing and the crys of the wounded... yes, HE had been there....

Yes... he was there, it begins to come clear now... it IS Aronel.

Deaus looked directly at Aronel, a cruel grin on his face, a half smirk.

Hello Aronel, it appears we meet again... under greatly different circumstances as well... how amusing, be prepared to meet your end

EN GUARDE!

Suddenly, Sylius regained control of his body. All traces of humor were gone now from Sylius countenance, a total stoic expression locked into position. His ice blue eyes narrowed, focusing, and he slowly slided his feet out a bit, getting ready for the assult, owering his blade, he looked at Aronel.

"Well now, shall we get started Aronel?" Sylius said, using the name that Deaus had spoken.

With a cry on his lips, Sylius broke into a run towards his opponent, his blade in both hands, raised over his shoulder

"For Isha!" he cryed

(OCC, well met Syd, I was thinking the same thing, let us make a grand show of this.)

Who is this Sylius? Yet the name is nothing. Despite the ignorance, the man broke into a mad dash in the morning sun. The figure’s nimble frame darted from side to side attempting to keep Aronel off balance from where the attack would come from, and inevitably land. As Sylius drew closer, he was swallowed by the shadows of the trees that were rooted several yards away. Though they were not tall, the morning sun presented mighty shadows that filled nearly a third of the field in a synthetic twilight. As the warrior drew closer, Aronel lifted his hand to meet the Aura, which was still saturated with an ethereal light. Sylius tossed aside his original tactic of misdirection and broke into a full on charge, the swordsman plunged onward in a near blind rage, with sword held high in the shadows. Aronel waited, with his thumb tense against the guard of his kodachi lengthen sword. Sylius was now at the edge of attacking range, Aronel flicked his thumb, breaking the grip of friction between the collar and the scabbard, it slipped forward slightly with a timid chime. His hand met and gripped the handle tight as he raised it up to meet the warrior’s approaching strike. The two blades met in the darkness, filling the field with the scrape of metal. The glow of the Aura yielded enough light to let them catch a mutual glance of each other. Sylius’ sword slash was redirected by the Aura, rather than deflected; the blade only cleaved the air to Aronel’s left. He stepped aside, and allowed Sylius’ momentum to carry him some distance away from Aronel. It would give him enough time to collect his thoughts before the battle would begin again.

’For Isha?’ That name is familiar… The passing yet fierce gaze he saw as their blades met re-entered his minds eye. Those eyes… Vengeful, I have seen them before.

“But I knew you by a different name then, Maester Sylius.” He said under his breath, more to himself than his opponent, who had already stopped some distance away. Aronel cocked his head over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the foe, as his eyes grew even colder, and his lips tensed into a scowl.

Images erupted from the depths of his soul. Of the hamlet of Ulanai, which he called home. The scent of the lotus and cherry blossoms that fell to the earth at the start of the cold season, the touch of loved ones, they all came rushing to the front of Aronel’s mind. Then the sounds, and the burning night returned. The ripping of flesh, the crackle of the burning homes. As well as that slender silhouette and the blue eyes that glistened in the distance, he remembered it all.

“Deaus… yes, of course.” He said as his soul grew colder, in the calm before the storm, the death of the flames before the explosive back draft, Aronel sheathed the Aura calmly. His eyes closed and his teeth clenched as Aronel turned to face the fighter. “But you are mistaken…” he said as he took a step closer to Sylius. Then another step, and yet another, each one slightly swifter, and more forceful than the last. “This will not be for Isha…” his hand reached for the blade at his side when the distance was closed to about 7 feet.

“This shall be for Ulanai!” He yelled to the heavens as the dam within his soul broke. He took a lunging step forward as he ripped the blade from his side as he held it proud above his head. The sword glowed even with more intensity, filling the shadowed corner of the plains with a pure white light. His eyes no longer cold, his face no longer blank. The steely blue eyes were replaced with the burning blue of a bright flame, while his face grew flush with fury. Using the momentum of the lunge, Aronel slashed the blade from above with as much energy as he could control. As the blade came down, Aronel locked eyes with the one that was once Sylius, and it was clear that both were lost in the moment. Both lost interest in the battles raging elsewhere, they became apathetic about advancement in a childish game. Their hearts and souls were bared to their blades; they chose to live, or to die by their swords. Before the last stitch of Aronel’s soul was engulfed, he looked to the sky behind Sylius; the horizon was red from the rising sun. The saying is right… ‘Red skies in the morning, and sailors take warning.’ I shall weave the maelstrom for all to fear. Take me fury, let us rend and revenge for the fallen! The clarity was gone, and Aronel was left sealed away in the heart of rage he sealed away for those seven years.

[psychosyd]

Sylius took a step back to take hold of the situation. Deaus' memories of Aronel were running through him

"Good... it appears he has not lost any of the talent he had then, in fact, he has improved, how delightful" Sylius said to his own suprise... for this was not a man he had ever known, yet it was if they had grown together... Deaus influence was in effect for sure.

The half reckless abandon he had attacked Aronel with before was a test, but it was not totally Sylius doing. He could feel Deaus trying to take hold, take over... regain the control he had established before. While the battle between the 2 men raged, there was also a battle for a soul... His...

Sylius gritted his teeth, taking a grasp of his hilt in both hands, Adaneth Nalla flashing in the sun, which was red like blood in the horizion, like an eerie omen to the future.

"Well... im not going to let him take hold of me again, not while I hold breath in my body, this is my fight, not his"

He watched Aronel standing a distance from him. He scowled at the comment of Sylius and Deaus being the same, they were as seperate as day and night, far as Sylius was concerned

Oh but we wouldent have to be... you and I... could be something more Deaus spoke

Never! I have seen your mind, I felt the dark taint you hold within you, I will not hold to darkness

Even though he was not present physically... Sylius could see the humored look on Deaus face

If only you understood young one... very well, you will be free for now...

Sylius the darkness clear from his mind and soul, a shadow lifting, full control coming back to his limbs. Just in time to... for Aronel was already on the assult, his blade flashing in the early morning sun, coming down towards Sylius. With a cry, he raised his own blade, the 2 men's eyes coming together for a momment, seeing deep into each others souls. For a momment, Sylius cought a view of another life, its hapiness sadness... he could see the gloom and sadness that was present, but it was a momment, and then the spell was broken, the walls going back up as fast as they had come down. Blade edges come together, filling the sky with a ringing clang. Sparks sprayed down around Sylius as the swords met edge to edge, who fell back a bit from the force of the strike. Aronel reared back, to strike again, thrusting his sword down for the finishing strike, but Sylius was already on the move once more, his battle reflexes coming into affect. Rolling to his right, Aura pierced through his cloak, ripping it, and impaling itself into the ground. Aronel jerked his blade free as Sylius got back to his feet, in a defensive stance. Reaching up, he removed the rainment of his cloak, letting it drop to the ground around him. His mail vest now fully visible now, a small emerald engraved into the center, his trademark. Made of Ithrilmar, with overlapping scales, the armour moved with Sylius, almost like skin. Dangling around his neck was a small chain with a amulet attached to the bottom, a red bloodstone in the center. A gift from Isha herself, it was his most valuable treasure, never removed from his body. He grinned a bit at the challenge thus far.

"Well now Aronel, im glad to see that this will not be some lazy begars kind of battle, its an honor to fight one such as yourself. Lets not waste time chit chatting"

Taking his sword, laying it over his shoulder, Sylius begins to channel his energys through his body, feeling the tingle as it courses through his veins like blood, envigorating him. He could feel the raw power in himself, and in the world around him, drawing a bit from everything. Reopening his eyes, he looked at Aronel, his own eyes ablaze with a fire.

"Let the mighty wind roar, as it has brought strength and might to us in ancient days past.

Air Slash!"

Taking a few quick steps, Sylius spins his blade around over his head with a cry, then slashes in a diagonal pattern towards Aronel. An unseen energy launches fom Sylius blade, the air distorting and becoming almost a liquid, shifting and changing, forming into a slightly blue tinged ball. The blue ball of energy launched itself towards Aronel, the ground cracking and breaking as the ball flew past. It crackled with power and grew as the distance between it and its intended target shortened

Mythology and Religions the world over have contemplated the beginning and ends of the world. From chaos was born the universe, and eventually, it would return, most of them agreed as far as that. But then, it was debatable what would happen afterwards, whether the chaos would remain, or would give birth to a new world. Aronel’s soul has plunged and was engulfed into the chaos, a place where only two existed. A realm where only himself, and a slender Elvin warrior lived to battle. The world was over for Aronel, but it was still to be seen if the world would be reborn to a new being, or remain in the confusion.

The shell remained to walk and breathe, as well as to swing it sword in rage, blind swings at images of Sylius, who was much farther away, well out of harms reach.

Sylius watched, and took the time to launch another strike to the preoccupied Aronel. The fluidic wind that fled from the Adaneth Nalla screamed towards the silver haired ogre as it rendered the earth and grass before its path asunder. It seemed as though the berserker was too busy striking wildly at the air to notice impending death.

But then, the sound cut through the chaos, and the shell turned to meet it. The blind fury that burned in his eyes was now gone, leaving a gray iris to mirror his missing soul. The only light that shined in his eyes was now the blue sphere sailing towards him. He stopped wildly flailing the blade and instead held it tight and close to his body. A dead droning voice cried out from his lips, evoking a spell to counter the Air Slash. Though still a shell of the former man, it seemed to be giving birth to a new being.

Crezos, benetine, hylias, crov… The mother’s wrath surpasses her mercy… Terra Fura!

Aronel let his hand drop to his side, and the Aura’s break through the earth at his feet. Like his eyes, the Aura has since lost much of its glow. He stepped forward to meet the wind strike, and slashed upward, through the earth. Though it was only an inch or less into the earth when he struck, a gigantic wave of dirt and stone followed the blade into the air. The spell he evoked seemed to attract earthy objects; the result was an earthen crescent between he and the sphere. The ethereal strike crashed into the earth shield, being absorbed, and seemingly dispersed. Aronel’s shell was about to turn around and throw the shield at his foe. However as he turned to slash his sword at it and send it on its way, the energy from the air slash was found not to have been dispelled, it blasted the shield into dust. The dust storm rushed out in all directions, covering the area above Aronel in a brown descending cloud. While it did not work flawlessly, the Earth Rage shield served the purpose of defending him from most of Sylius’ attack.

The shell closed its eyes to prevent dirt from burying itself into his eyes. He stood motionless with sword in hand until the only wind that remained was the natural wind coming from the west. He opened his eyes then, revealing an insignificant shade of blue emerging from the soulless gray. Slowly but surely, something was being recreated in the shell, as to what, be it Aronel, or the Fury, was still to be seen. Like a marionette, Aronel staggered towards Sylius once more. He raised the Aura from his side, and began to advance faster.

Aronel darted from side to side, keeping his center of balance as low to the ground as possible. He took hold of the sword with both hands, gripping it so that both hands were held palm down to the earth, and the blade was off to the left, parallel to the ground, trailing slightly behind his hands. He started the strike from Sylius’ right, planting his foot down hard, then kicking off again, lunging towards Sylius’ left. When he touched down, Aronel released his left hand from the Aura, which was gripping the sword to keep his right hand in tension. With the counterforce gone, his right hand and the Aura were free to slash at Sylius’ midsection.

[psychosyd]

Sylius watched as his attack connected with Aronel's earthen shield, and then shatter..... the dust was chocking and thick, making it hard to breathe. He covered his eyes with his free arm, trying to get some kind of view as to where his opponent was. He hoped that his opponent was just as blinded by the dust cloud, but one could never be to sure. Soon, the dust settled, and Sylius was glad to see that Aronel was also adjusting from the storm... he was protected this time... next time he may not be so lucky to have his opponent stunned as well. Shaking himself free of the cloying dust which still clinged to his body, he got a good portion of if off of him, but his hair was another matter..

"Well, I suppose im going to need to take a shower after this..." he smiled to himself, as he got back into his battle stance. From afar, Aronel seemed to be acting a bit odd, staggering towards Sylius like he was possesed by something

Odd... something is different about him, he is not as in control, something has happened to him, as if he were not himself, I wonder what his life has been these past years... Deaus commented

Well, no matter what it is, I don't want to wait to find out

Indeed, Aronel was quickly closing the distance between the two, his speed growing more focused, more regular, making dodges from side to side, keeping Sylius on the balls of his feet. Aronel suddenly planted his foot, making a slash at Sylius left. Taking his blade and swinging it in an arc to deflect the attack, he found that his opponent had instead lunged to his opposite flank, attacking from his right. Quickly whipping his blade in a full circle, he cought Aronels sword on the other side, deflecting it downwards, and away, while Sylius himself took a step back to avoid being sliced in half by the sword. The blade came to close for ones comfort. Aronel may seem out of control and not together, but it was a game, a ploy, and Sylius would no longer be cought off guard. Taking advantage of the motion, Sylius spun around, making a full arc with his sword, attacking Aronels blind side. Aronel was already preparing his own counter, stepping back, and swinging his blade level at Sylius, deflecting the attack. Both men began to battle back and forth, blows flashing almost as fast as the eye can follow, attacking with a fury. Block, jump, parry dodge, thrust, Sylius' training was paying well, as he used his blade as part of his body, his movments graceful and fluid, it was not enough however, Aronels slowly driving Sylius on the defensive, then slowly beating him back. Breathing heavily, all Sylius could do was defend himself from the savagry of the attacks pressing down upon him. He knew his strength was lagging, fading, he would not be able to last much longer.

"Gotta think fast... or yer dead"

Yet... something odd began to happen, Sylius began to feel a guiding hand in his attacks, his training coming clearer Sylius felt an inner strength forming within, soon the 2 opponents were back on even ground, Sylius was able to hold his own, gaining back what ground he lost. The two men broke free of each other, Sylius' chests and shoulders heaving from the assult, but he had survived. Aronel took no time to rebegin his assult, the two men began attacking back and forth once more, but this time as equals. Only one person could be responsible for such a curious change...

Deaus, why are you helping me Sylius thought.

You are my vessel, my chosen one... through you will my goals be accomplished

WHAT?? Sylius exclaimed, reinforcing his suprise with a powerful thrust, knocking Aronels blade away, and jumping back.

Deaus chuckled at the action

Good... good, it seems there is still hope for you after all...

What do you mean vessel? Am I just some pawn of yours for the taking?

Of course... why else did you think you recieved the training you had? I was, in my life, the same as you are, trained by the greatest of teachers in the Tower, Bellanor himself. I guided you through life, so that someday you would be my revenge. I have been the one to set up your life... you even reforged my blade, how thoughtful of you

Sylius recoiled in horror... his actions odd to Aronel, who had taken a momment to watch, confused by such acts

You mean... YOU were the one who caused my creation? You were the one who had my village destroyed and wiped out? You were the one to put me through so much pain and suffering? Just so I would be some meer PAWN for your play

Yes, I did help influence the destruction of your pathetic little town, it was nessecary to give you a push out the door

Sylius raised his blade over his head, the sky darkening, anger flashing in his eyes.

I AM NOBODYS PAWN! He screamed in anger, the elements around responding to his outburst. He rushed towards Aronel with a new fury, hacking and slashing, taking out his fury. Taking his blade in both hands, Sylius swings it in a full semi circle, getting Aronel to back off. Pointing one hand at Aronel, he begins to focus his energy, letting the winds of magic flow through his body, he could feel the extasy of the power igniting his veins. Sylius poured all his anger and sadness into his spell, a red ball of energy begining to form at his fingertips, his hand igniting in flame.

"Let the holy flame of Asuryan guide my steps. Bring forth the destruction of thine enemies. Purge the evils of this land, as you bring down your wrath!"

Apothesis!

Grasping his sword hilt, he stabbed his sword into the ground. Bringing his hands together palm to palm, his fingers curled, he let all of his energy run through his body into his hands. The magic discharged from his body, forming into a sphere of fire. Screaming, he raised his hands over his head, enlarging the sphere. Releasing the restraints Sylius held on the spell, they launched from his body, a line of fire cutting through the sky. Suddenly, they split apart, making a shower of flame spears, crackling with power as they cut through the sky towards Aronel, on there own seperate tracks, weaving in and out, circling, following there own path, the snake like holy fire launching toward there intended target, a rain of fire coming down on the earth, even burning the air with the heat

*Sigh*

I really don't know what to do. It's 10:56 at night. I have to judge this battle. Myself and Sid are the only judges online. What happened to the other judges? Why do I have to judge so many ****ing battles? ****ing Mike. ****ing Mydako. Screw them all.

What makes matters worse is that this is Syd's battle. Syd. he's the last person I want to screw over now. Jesus. He's judging my battle as we speak. This does not bode well for me in the least bit. I'm getting light headed.

Syd has long been a legend in the field of RPB'ing. A legend in his own time. He has always been regarded as the best active RPB'er (I would still consider Merlin (who lost) to be better than him). Yet still. If he lost this match, it would be the end of an era. *sigh* I really don't want to judge this match. And yet I have to.

Syd, you were never one for the intros. You know that. I know that. It was your Achille's heel. If anything could cost you the match, it could be your crummy intros. Yet you managed to pull off a decent one here.

True Omega, your introduction was also quite well. Yet it didn't have the charm that Syds did.

Jesus Christ. I pause here for a moment. Did I just say that Syd's intro beat TO's?! I hope this isn't being a biased match. Ugh. My head hurts like hell.

Let's move on to an attack post.....maybe that will help separate you two great RPB'ers.

Damn........no good. TO is good. But Sid. Agh, damnit, I can't let him win! How biased would that look, after all I said up there?! But I'm so tired. My head is aching. I need a Tylenol.

*several minutes later*

Head still hurts. Need to make the judgement. Stupid NS. Stupid Mydako. Stupid Mike. You've left me to die here. Die upon the shards of my integrity. How can I choose a victor? How the **** can I choose a victor?

After much contemplation....and much head ache, I have reached a decision.

Forgive me TO....but Syd truly is the Tiger Woods of the RPB arena. He is not unbeatable- in many battles I have seen of him, he has sucked. But in this battle..he outclasses you.

Blargh.....I need another Tylenol.

Winner- Syd