TOA Final Four: LocoColt VS Indigo

[psychosyd]

Well we are in the final four here folks, if you don't know the rules by now, its amazing you have made it this far. Good luck to both of you, nothing more to say here.

[Indigo]

((OOC: Best of luck, Cesar. I'm expecting a good fight from you! Bring it, yo! Hehe, but seriously, good luck to both of us, I guess.))

A pair of radiating eyes blinked slowly, as if the world itself were turning in slow motion. A fair head inclined slightly to acknowledge the coming of its opponent. A tendril of hair swung across the eyes, which were now shut in concentration. The left hand moved to meet the right, which grasped the hilt of the sword. Then, once more, white light obliterated all thought of sense and mind. The feeling was not unusual. She was growing accustomed to it. This time, it had come too soon. Opening her eyes when a new scent and a new atmosphere assailed her senses, she awoke to find herself within the confines of her room.

A peculiar and rarely felt sensation rose in her body. Frustration, rage, despair. Scowling at herself inwardly, she was saddened by the battle that had never even truly begun. The fight with Skai had never actually taken place. Such a shame. Sheathing her sword with more force than was necessary, she hastily replaced it in the room before throwing herself onto the nearby couch and covering her face with a velvety pillow. Her frustration was building. She was ready for a fight. She was ready for an opponent that she knew would be worth her time and energy. She knew what she needed…the last component to her problem was the foe.

A scuffle of paper alerted her senses and caused her to peer out from around her pillow of temporary sanctuary. Her sharp ears picked up the hasty retreat of footsteps. A letter had been slipped beneath her door. Was this already the next summons for her fight? They never usually came this fast…that was odd…Raising an eyebrow at the folded and sealed piece of paper, she threw the pillow to the side and rose to her feet. Stepping in a lazy manner to the piece of paper, she stood staring at the note for a few seconds, shook her head, then bent and picked it up as she made her way back to the couch. Flopping down once more, her slender fingers broke the Tournament Seal, and indigo eyes began flitting back and forth across the somewhat weathered piece of parchment.

Welcome to the Final Four segment of the tournament! Your next opponent will be the Valkyrie, Kara. Best of luck to you both!
- The TOA coordinators

She shut the note and dropped it onto a small table nearby before leaning back and contemplating the situation. Kara was one that she had not yet had much of a chance to see. Of course, she knew the basics, but in truth, knew nothing of her fighting styles. Scolding herself inwardly for being careless, she relaxed onto the pillows surrounding her form. Her right hand absently went to the nearly-healed scratch on her right leg. It was once again, a reminder of what happened when one got careless. Surely, this would not be her only wound. It had been the only thing to deal with throughout the entire competition, but soon, she was sure that more injuries would have to be dealt with. Deciding rest was the best option for the fight the next day, she moved from her couch to her small, comfortable bed and threw her cloak off. She removed all of her outer clothing and climbed within the soft sheets dressed in her undergarments. Tossing and turning for a short while, she finally said a short prayer in her tongue under her breath before drifting into sleep.

______________
A fitful dream of the past overtook her subconscious thoughts. The tower was there. Everything was happening over again. She knew what she would do, but she was powerless to stop herself. There was the chest within the tower. She knew what was inside it, but she couldn’t stop. Opening the chest, she let out the demons. Watching them spread over the countryside, she stared in horror at what was happening. Her world was being demolished. Unable to watch any more, she turned her back on the evil she had wreaked – only to find the silver haired demon. Nemesis. Nemesis would never leave her, because Nemesis was part of her. It smiled its horrible smile to reveal the pointed teeth and crease the thin, red eyes at her before disappearing. Curling into a ball of comfort within her mind, she wept and finally went to dreamless sleep.

_______________

Several hours later, the sun’s rays broke through the window and flickered gently upon her eyelids. Frowning in the last stages of sleep, her mouth opened with a long sigh. Feeling began to creep back into her limbs. She wiggled her fingers and gave a long stretch of her full body before yawning and raising herself from her position. Tendrils of hair fell into her face as she shook the dreams from her head. She moved across the room and dressed herself slowly. Her mind concentrated on the fight that day. Apprehension was a little more prominent here than it had been in previous matches. She was unsure of what to expect. This would be a different type of foe. Shaking her head once more, she cleared any negative foreshadowing from her mind before sitting down once more and centering her mind with nature, as she had been taught.

Allowing one eye to wink open at the window, she noted the streams of sunlight playing on the fields outside her window. Dancing on the very tops of the trees and illuminating the feathers of the various birds beyond the confines of her room, the sunlight was very inviting. The elf got to her feet and left her room, heading for the outside. It never seemed as though anyone was ever in these corridors. She passed one messenger on her way out, who looked warily at her figure. Smiling contentedly at him, he glanced away from her quickly, red growing in his face as he hurried away. She frowned in a lack of understanding before stepping outside the walls of the arena.

The grass hardly bent beneath her light feet as she trod gently upon it. Sitting down contentedly, she breathed air in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Nature enveloped her, and she fell into a trance-like state. Hours passed without her knowledge. She sat and absorbed strength and wisdom from the earth surrounding her. Alerted by an unknown force, indigo eyes snapped open. She stood hastily from her position and moved inside to get Vala Runya from where it rested in her room. Once again, the hall to her room was virtually devoid of presence. Appreciating the lack of people, she stepped quietly within her room and took her sword in hand, securing it gently around her waist so that it hung comfortably upon her left side. Taking in a long, deep breath, she exhaled, shut her eyes, and white light enveloped her.

When she opened her indigo eyes, she was presented with a different kind of battlefield. She was standing on a platform that was seemingly suspended in absolute nothingness. There was nothing beneath her, no walls, no doors. The platform was made of the same pyrethian alabaster as the arena she had previously fought in, but it was unmarred from battle. Torches filled with crimson flame flickered and illuminated the cold surface on which she stood. They, too hung in what appeared to be air. Glancing around her for some recollection of where she was, her elven eyes detected the rapid approach of stars. Heavenly bodies began to glimmer above the curious arena. They ignited like tiny balls of flame in the far distance.

A glint at the other end of the platform alerted her to the presence of Kara. The elf turned her attention away from the Valkyrie for the time being, and began her ritual of battle, as was customary in her fights. A long breath was drawn, and then she began.

Her right hand went beneath the left side of her cloak and her fingers found the hilt of Vala Runya – the flame of the angels in the old tongue of her people. She drew the sword hastily with a certain grace and dignity and swung it easily – the mythril embedded within the blade glinting in the crimson fire of the dancing torches. She then began to recite her customary battle prayer in the tongue of her people.

“Lothron I balan ned menel a ennor anna nin sîdh, I meleth nedi Valar beria nin, a nin gwaith, annin nin I bellas na brona. O I dúath, galad, o I faer, balan onnen, a ned I breno lû ned nin bellas…im îdh ned I ranc ned menel…”

(Translation: May the power of heaven and earth grant me peace, the love of the Valar protect me, and my people – give me the strength to succeed. From the shadows will be light, from the spirit, courage born, and in the final hour of my strength, let me rest in the embrace of heaven.)

Upon finishing her seemingly foreign prayer, she brought the sword to her face and spoke then in the common tongue.

“Vala Runya…awaken and guide me.”

The beautiful piece of weaponry within her hands ignited with an inner flame. Swirls of script written in the elegant language of the elves appeared blazingly down the bright metal. Leveling the sword with her face, she tapped it once to her forehead, and the light dimmed considerably.

Finally, she let the sword glide to its position at her right side and awaited her opponent. This was no time to allow her mind to drift back to last night’s dreams. What Anghara had done was final, and there was no turning back. But she had abandoned that life long ago. Now was Lenith’s turn to shine. And she was ready.

[LocoColt04]

The breeze picked up gently as Kara remained motionless on the ground, awaiting her opponent's arrival. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, and a few fireflies began flickering their lamps. She watched as the lights danced above her head, and waited patiently. Total sunset was easily half an hour away, so her wait had truly just begun. The wind shifted a bit, and with it now came the overwhelming scent of burnt wood. It reminded her of the massive stone fireplaces in which her family used to toss entire trees, and for a moment, she smiled. But no, she convinced herself... it couldn't be true, for that life was behind her, and no longer existed. She wondered how her sisters were -- having not seen any of them in at least three hundred years -- but shoved the thoughts out of her head almost effortlessly. Her glimmering green eyes focused now upon a grand Monarch butterfly, with its deep orange and black wings fluttering, barely visible in the fading light.

A looming must filled her nostrils with the next gust of the wind. The butterfly was taken aback by the sudden blast of air, though slight as it was, and Kara's attention broke. She sat up, sensing movement behind her. Springing to her feet, Kara swiped her short-handled scythe off the ground with her left hand and tossed it into her right as she came to meet the mystery figure face to face. There was no face for her to meet. Black. Solely a shadow, an outline, an eclipse of a person. Whoever or whatever was within that darkness could have cared less as it lifted both arms toward her, sending a large stream of ice into her chest. The ice continued to flow, knocking her off balance and slowly encapsulating her. The sun was nearly gone, and her power was not at its maximum potential. She aggrivated herself further by biting her tongue, and as the pain increased, her rage did as well. She blinked, and upon raising her eyes to meet the empty face of her attacker, they burned with such a passionate and swirling red that one could swear the fire was sparked from the pit of her soul, drawing strength from her centuries of discontent. Within moments, the ice had melted from her body and her skin grew red with heat. The figure backed off for a moment, gazing at her body as it glowed brighter and brighter. Kara watched as the dark shadow ran quickly to her left, perhaps looking for an escape. She thrust her right arm outward, blasting a constant stream of fire toward the escapee. As she did, her entire body ignited, and she stood there, alone, burning peacefully to herself.

Kara awoke, startled. She was still sprawled out across the grassy field, but her audience had left and the moon was high in the sky. He never showed up. Great... just great. She struggled to pick herself up from the ground, and as her hand touched her leg, she noticed large amounts of heat emanating from her body. Nah...



It had been nearly a week before the messenger came, bearing the bad news. Of all the people to choose from, the judges thought that perhaps sending Vincent her way would be funny. The knock on her door was subtle, but the thunderclap which followed was deafening. Kara leapt up in joy and confusion, and ran to the door. "Hey you! I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but..." Kara's eyes skimmed over the letter. Apparently, Thomas had been missing from his quarters when the fight was scheduled to begin. Had he run away? Was he kidnapped? Various thoughts of torture swam through Kara's mind as she worried for her own safety. She chatted with Vincent a while before heading to bed.



Vibrant, Kara was ready and anxious for the day's fight. She thought about that dream she'd had while laying in the field. Am I capable of that kind of power? Why? Why did I catch on fire? I... I'm so confused... Her anxiety continued to rise as she made her way into the grand hall to take a look at the official brackets. Lenith. The semifi--wait, the SEMIFINALS?! She was a bit taken aback by her progress, and choked her heart back into her chest as she gasped for air. She'd never seen such fighters, such skill, such glory. And she was one of them. Sure, on the streets she was lethal, combining fire with physical force, but in an arena? With an audience? She'd survived the fights with Zet and Damaru early on, and was lucky the week prior with Thomas's mysterious disappearance. She continued to glare at the rankings until she noticed everything getting brighter... she looked... up... and the light... so bright...

Everything went dark. It was warm and humid, yet cold and dry. The darkness created illusions beyond mere senses and Kara's lush green eyes adjusted to the new lighting. It was dim, yet bright, all at once. Torches were suspended in mid air, seemingly by nothing, and a gentle breeze blew forcefully into her face, not moving a single strand of her short black hair. One flame flickered in the hard wind, yet another stood nearly still, untouched by the unreal source. What is this place? Kara's toes dug into the earth, but there wasn't any to be found. She stood teetering atop a lone platform, and for as far as she could see, there was no up or down, no right or left. There was no end. Immense. Yes, that would describe it, she decided, searching for some type of logical answer. One didn't exist.

Something glowed from a few hundred yards away. It was faint, but grew bright within moments, only to dim shortly afterward. Was that scripture? I can't tell from here... it's too far away. With that thought, Kara found herself mere inches away from Lenith. Kara nearly dropped her scythe from her right hand in shock. How--

[Indigo]

Leveling her icy eyes with the Valkyrie’s, adrenaline began to seep through her slowly throbbing veins. Power was igniting within the seemingly fragile frame that encompassed a free and vivacious spirit. Hiding her puzzled thoughts in regards to their battlefield, Lenith nodded her head with a polite half-smile in Kara’s direction. Then, she began.

Her fingers began to nearly itch in anticipation. If this platform she now stood on was to remain like this, the elf would be at a severe disadvantage. Everywhere else she had fought, there had been access to several elements at any given time. Here, there was only flame. Kara was known to use fire-based magic. But thoughts stirred in the elf’s head and she only hoped that this was an illusion…only time would tell. ‘

One step backward. Two, three, and eventually the distance between them was no less than nine steps. A breeze from nowhere flitted among the dancing fingers of the crimson torches – a foreshadowing of the combat that was to ensue. Mythril glowed encouragingly in Lenith’s right hand. She bowed her head slowly and closed her eyes in an almost meditative stance; silently deciding her first attack would be simple, but powerful. These first steps were always a dance in learning who could keep up and who would become trampled by the ever-quickening tempo.

Without opening her eyes, Lenith began a swift motion. Grace and speed personified in one, her left hand moved to meet her right hand as her feet sprinted toward Kara. Finally raising her head and opening her eyes three steps before her target, she launched herself into the air and came down hard, bringing Vala Runya down and aiming the mythril weapon for the Valkyrie's chest. Ducking to the right of Kara’s body, she swept herself around Kara, and added another attempt at a slash to the Valkyrie’s left side before slipping out of range to assess the damage she had done.

As she did so, her mind drifted back to her previous thoughts of disadvantage. Thoughts of a grassy plain bordered only by the horizon and trees would have been such a welcome place for such a skirmish. Barely had she envisioned this within her mind than she saw the space-like atmosphere begin to shift and swirl into random shapes and figures. Looking politely puzzled, the only things that remained in place where the marble platform and the torches. The heavenly bodies that had once echoed their light around the endless field of space were replaced with blue sky and puffy clouds. Woodland surrounded the platform they stood on. Crimson flames still flickered at specific intervals where they still unnecessarily lit the surface on which the warriors stood.

Smiling inwardly, the elf decided this would be one of the most interesting battles she would ever participate in. If both of them had the ability to change the arena…there was no telling where this one would go.

[LocoColt04]

Where's she going? And how'd I get right in front of her? This is way too weird for me... even back home in Valhalla, I--

Kara's thoughts were interrupted by violent visions of her past. No, she decided, not here, not today. I've got too much to worry about. Like this girl, Lenith, running directly toward me at blinding speed. I mean, if I don't... oh, right.

Kara glanced up just in time to bring her scythe up for a block. The mythril blade came downward as the blade of the scythe rested on its side against Kara's left hand, the handle in her right. The Vala Runya glanced off the scythe, but Lenith was already gone before Kara could react. Kara whirled around to her right, following Lenith, but she wasn't quick enough to block. Having turned, the sword came ripping up in front of Kara, slighty tearing into her diaphragm and scarring her bronze top. She doubled over in pain, realizing that Lenith's eyes were closed the entire time. With an opponent so agile and graceful, she knew she'd be in for a long ride. Blood seeped into her hands and she released her grasp on her scythe. She fell to her knees and pressed against the cold marble below with her left arm, closing her eyes and collapsing onto her side. Pain...

Kara waited for a finishing blow, but it never came. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes to see Lenith looming above her, staring off into the clouds above. The clouds. Clouds... clouds that hadn't been there moments earlier. Kara's green eyes were slowly losing their luster as she surveyed her surroundings. Rolling meadows seemed to stretch for miles while a heavily wooded area stood on the not-so-distant horizon. The scent of spring air drifted her way with a gentle breeze, and a lone Monarch butterfly landed on her nose. Am I dreaming again? This is... this is just like before...

But it was no dream.

The butterfly flew away as she rolled onto her stomach and attempted to push herself up to her feet. The feat seemed agonizingly slow as seconds flowed like minutes, forcing her breathing to become laborious. Her eyes had become almost grey with pain as Kara finally reached her feet and Lenith turned. She seemed to be smiling, as though she knew something Kara did not. Kara slowly stooped over to pick up her scythe, backing away from Lenith to stall for time. There's a dozen... but she's quick. Maybe a few more st--

Kara's right foot slipped off the edge of the platform, causing her to lose her balance. She struggled, as though her life depended on it, but couldn't maintain her posture. Falling back, Kara held her breath as her toes sunk into the soft grass below. Neither woman moved for a moment, as though time itself had frozen; Kara released her breath and stepped down with her other leg. It was a short six inches from the ground to the marble platform.

Seemingly undecided, Kara tossed her scythe from hand to hand, glaring at Lenith, attempting to read into her. Nothing. The blood continued to seep from her wound, trickling down her stomach and soaking into her black shorts. With every deep breath Kara took, the tear opened wider, quickening the blood loss. Looking down, the scars on her left leg reminded her of her short encounter with Zet. She turned her gaze upward, looking toward the illusionary sun, and then around to the torches directly above her. An executive decision had to be made.

A flicker in her eyes sparked the flame in her hands. Lenith seemed motionless, as though she were awaiting an attack, but it was not the plan in Kara's mind. She closed her eyes and forced her hands onto her lower torso, torching the skin and melting the wound. The self-inflicted torment was unbearable, but the bleeding stopped and the breathing came a bit easier. Literally on fire, her stomach emitted the horrid stench of burning flesh, causing her to gag. She dropped to the ground and suffocated the fire, laying there for a moment while awaiting a reaction from her opposition. Lenith still had not approached her, and Kara returned to her feet. Just the sight of her was sickening as the remnants of her skin boiled and blistered. The pain was still there, but Kara could no longer feel it, having severed every nerve ending anywhere near her wound. As though she'd had a new life breathed into her, Kara stepped back toward Lenith with a devious grin on her face.

Feeding off the energy of the sun above and the torches around her, Kara conjured up a fireball of considerable size and immense heat. She held it for a moment with both hands before hurling it toward Lenith's torso. They say payback's a bitch, you know... Kara snapped her fingers and two flaming projectiles sped after the mass of flames. She turned her head upward and raised her arms, summoning up a ring of fire which surrounded the marble platform on all sides. The rage inside her was nearly spent as her pain dwindled away. Her body, accustomed to the fire, was already starting to heal from her earlier burns. She stepped through the fire effortlessly and onto the platform to view the aftermath.

[Indigo]

(OOC:If any of this seems weird to you, Loco, please please please let me know, like I know you will. It's late at night, I was supposed to be asleep an hour ago, and I'm going to kick myself for staying up late to finish this, but oh well. My sincere apologies.)

Lenith glided to a stop and opened her eyes in time to see Kara’s form double over in pain from the encounter with Vala Runya. The Valkyrie had been cut upon her torso. Her hands went immediately to the site of the wound. Crimson seeped from between her fingers and left trails of the dark liquid upon her skin as it dripped from the gash. Watching the Valkyrie fall to her knees on the cool stony surface, Lenith forced herself to suppress a glimmer of surprise. I never expected the attack to come down that hard…I guess it’s to my own advantage, though…

A monarch butterfly perched itself on Kara’s nose, and then flew away quickly as the Valkyrie began to move. Kara drew herself from her knees and wearily rose to her feet. Laborious breathing accompanied her icy glare of pain and rage. With a sudden waving of arms; however, Kara fell backwards off the edge of the marble platform. Lenith had half expected her to fall into nothingness, but instead found that the recently added scenery was, in fact, genuine. The butterfly which had previously resided on the nose of her opponent came fluttering to greet her. Lenith whispered in the tongue of nature – the tongue of her people – a gentle greeting. “Mae Govannen, nin mellon. Tiria or nin, tithen pen!” (Hello, my friend. Watch over me, little one!) The tiny creature hovered momentarily next to her before fluttering hastily off about its own business, seemingly disregarding her sincere comment.

Lenith’s attention turned back to the Valkyrie. Blood still dripped satisfactorily from the wound upon her torso. It was soaking her clothing and staining everything it touched the dark crimsons and violets of soul and emotion. Kara tossed her scythe from hand to hand in a seemingly impatient gesture. She’s trying to read me. Can she? I hope not… the elf thought to herself. Maintaining a blank composure, she stood tall and feigned a lack of anticipation for her opponent’s counter.

Then, unexpectedly, flame burst into existence directly correlated with a flicker of fire in Kara’s eyes. The Valkyrie’s hands, now filled with fire, went to her lower torso and cauterized the wound completely. The sweet aroma of burning flesh assaulted the elf’s nostrils and almost provoked a grimace of distance from Lenith. Every nerve ending was rapidly being melted shut. The blood was beginning to dwindle to a less life-concerning pace. Lenith kept her eyes from the site of Kara’s chest even when the fire was long gone from her hands. The sight of the ghastly repair that had been made churned her stomach and the taste of vomit rose in her throat. Effective, yes, the repair had been. But I wonder if she intended to cause me to be sick…

A grin grew upon Kara’s face. It was one of victory, oddly enough. Lenith knew it was because she had overcome the trial of self-inflicted pain in favor of this – absence of feeling altogether in the region surrounding the now disgusting wound. Lenith hated those kinds of grins with every fiber of her being. She never used them herself. The cockiness they always seemed to exude somehow lessened the intimidation she felt, which led to a less exciting battle. But then, that had only been in the past, and this was a completely different opponent with a clearly different personality.

Lenith continued to await the Valkyrie’s next move. Rapidly, she watched as energy gathered in the form of flame. It radiated brightly in the Valkyrie’s hands, and this was one of the times that Lenith wished she had the ability to use magic like this instead of having to harness the elements to use it herself. A considerably sized ball of flame was formed in Kara’s hands, and the next thing Lenith knew, it was flung in her general direction at an extremely quick pace. Two smaller versions of the fireball lingered in the wake of the larger one.

As soon as her indigo eyes alighted upon the blazing presences hurtling in her direction, she had begun to speak in her own tongue, reaching out for help…Lacho galad, anno nin pendrath, anno nin sidh! (Fire light, grant me passage, grant me peace!) Vala Runya was swung deftly from her right hand to her left hand, and then spun behind her back, where it pointed straight up into the sky. Her slender right hand was held out in a seemingly futile effort to stop the fireball soaring toward her figure. During the course of her short statement, particles of energy had gathered in front of her palm – courtesy of the flickering crimson lamps still present upon the edges of the arena. Too slowly her plea for assistance took effect, though. The ball of fire hit her hand and pain ripped through her as the blistering combustion ignited the sleeve of her cloak. Finally, enough energy was gathered in front of her; however, and barely suppressing a scream, the force she had gathered in her right hand burst the first massive ball of flame in a thousand different directions. Then, the two projectiles hurtled toward her and hit their target, full on. Flame ignited at the ends of her hair to match the healthy blaze already located on her right sleeve.

In an act of pure desperation, Lenith threw her beloved sword as hard into the air as humanly (or elvenly) possible. She grabbed her hair tightly and attempted to ignore the searing pain as fingers of flame danced between her now dark hands. One moment later, she had thrown her cloak from her slim frame and wrapped the less-charred bits at the end over her still flaming right arm. Satisfied at long last, she lifted her head to the sky and caught her falling sword in her charred right hand with a long grimace.

Tears sprang to her eyes at the touch of her sword. She shifted Vala Runya quickly to her left hand to analyze the damage the flames had done. Fingertips relatively unharmed, save for a few blisters here and there…that was the only positive thing about the situation. Her palm was absolutely obliterated by flame. Nearly black with the horrid burning of her own skin, her hand could still function, but to swing a sword with it would be exceedingly painful. Cursing her stupidity to use her sword hand to block the flame attack, Lenith shook her head and almost laughed as ashes fell from the ends of her hair, which were blackened and about a half inch shorter.

That sense of humor died quickly away when she realized what Kara had done. The two balls of fire were now beginning to take effect on Lenith’s body. One had hit harder on the left side. There would surely be a bruise there the next day. The one that had hit on the right had skimmed her side and taken off a considerable amount of the first layer of skin. That’s the hardest hit I’ve taken this tournament… Lenith thought to herself.

Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. This couldn’t be happening. No. Surrounding the entire platform they stood on was now a blistering inferno. Fire cracked high into the air above the trees even, threatening to set some of the neighboring trees alight.

Adrenaline was now partially fueling her, because so much of her energy was being used in order to repair the wounds she had just acquired. Taking this into account, the elf launched into her next attack, leaving her dark cloak to smolder out the rest of the heat on the rapidly warming pyrethian floor.

Her eyes were open this time. Vala Runya in her left hand, Lenith ran at the Valkyrie straight on. Daring to take a chance, she allowed the sword to flow partially into her right hand for more power and leverage as a wince appeared on her face. Gritting her teeth in a subconscious attempt at more power, she shifted the sword to her right side and then shot it in a 180 degree angle in Kara’s direction, hoping to lodge a deep cut in her left side. Unsure if her target had been hit or not, she spun back to the right and away from Kara’s body, where she could have time to react to retaliation.

There was still the issue of what to do about the fire surrounding her at all sides, now…but that would have to be dealt with later. After all, this unusual battleground seemed to be able to go anywhere…but for the time being, the elf cocked her head in the direction of the Valkyrie, looking intently for signs of damage.

[LocoColt04]

((OOC: No, actually... you're fine. Don't worry about it.))


Ah, that wasn't so bad. It reminds me a bit of that time on the bridge across the canyon. That was an interesting day...

Having stepped through the wall of fire, Kara watched the Vala Runya shift painfully from Lenith's left hand to her right. Kara caught a glimpse of the heavy cloak laying where Lenith once stood, and shifted her attention to the stampeding elf, closing in quickly. Again? She's rushing again? Well, maybe this time I can be a bit more prepa-- Lingering a while too long on her thought process, Kara remained unprepared for the incoming attack. Her dull green eyes, spent of their energy, grew wide as Lenith came within five yards of her. She instinctively raised her scythe as it locked in the Vala Runya, causing her to lose balance and topple backwards toward the flaming edge of the platform.

Kara lost her footing once more, only to plummet downward. Her first reaction was to drop the scythe, and it bounced against the hard marble surface, sliding over to where Lenith now stood. Kara had just barely caught the edge of the platform with her left hand -- the injured hand. She cringed in pain, causing her fingers to curl and her grip to loosen. The intensity of the blazing fire only increased her struggle as the heat became unbearable for even the mistress of flame herself. Dangling, Kara began to sway, gaining momentum and slamming her right hand against the rough edge of the marble. The flames dissipated immediately as Kara adjusted her grip, now with both hands. Her eyes had regained some of their color with the fire now gone, and her strength slowly returned; however, it wasn't enough to get her back over the top. Sensing imminent danger, Kara scoped her surroundings for any sign of comfort.

The two fighters were now in a canyon, and the platform, arguably narrower, was centered in the bridge that linked the opposing cliffs. The sky remained a clear blue as a lone grey storm cloud floated across the path of the sun. Below her, perhaps half a mile down, lay the empty riverbed, full of worn rocks and hardened dirt. The place was vaguely familiar, though Kara couldn't remember the gouge being that deep or the desert sands on either side. Something was different, as though this place had taken her memories and added a twist. It was irrelevant.

The bridge connected to the platform on both Kara's right and left sides, and she was planted directly in the middle. She wondered what was going through Lenith's mind, and why she hadn't been thrown into the depths of the illusionary canyon yet. With her left hand still tingling now and again in pain, Kara opted to go to her left, so the weight would remain on her right hand. She inched her way toward the corner, and, after what seemed like ages, stopped. She began to rock her body sideways, again building momentum, but this time for a different purpose. With one final thrust of her waist, her body seemed to glide upward as her left leg entangled itself within the fraying ropes supporting the wooden planks of the bridge. Kara hoisted herself up and crawled back onto the marble platform, which began to sway gently in the breeze.

When she caught her breath, she noticed her scythe now lay directly before her. She picked it up wearily with her right hand and looked up at Lenith, who hadn't seemed to move much at all while Kara's impending doom hovered below. Surely she must be shaken, even if it's just in the least. Surely...

Kara stepped to Lenith, who seemed to react. Too impatient to wait for a response (and perhaps paranoid as well), Kara stepped in again, enclosing the gap between the two women entirely. With her scythe dangling in her right hand, she swiftly swung upward, bringing the blade dangerously close to Lenith's left arm.

[psychosyd]

Good gosh, this is probably one of the worst matches we have judged in that... its FRIGGIN WEIRD! And not fun at all to judge...

Indigo- Your intro was rather stereotypical, we like the elvish, but it seems to be a similar follow to the previous ones... a bit slow start. Your incorperation of a battlefield that changes with the thoughts of the fighters was nice however. You just really gotta work on the cookie cutter posts... its nice after the first few rounds, but it gets a bit old... try to limit your speaking in elvish, especially when following with a translation. That hurt your rythem, and the reader really doesnt need to care unless full translations are needed. Im a fan of elvish and speaking in the language, but a short blessing may be needed at the start, but it got old. I did however like your management of attacks and the way you fought, it was basic, not overly excessive, and well played.

Loco- I thought your intro was rather weak at start, it had a very weak sense of flow and organization, more words on a page. One thing that really seemed an issue was your sense of detail today. Especially in management of your scythe, it seems to move, and dissapear at will, especially in your later posts. Flow was really an issue, and weirdness to be sure. This is my person opnion... but drop the girlish valley girl kinda outlook of "WOW I made it this far, this shouldent be... I suck" kinda idea, playing the sailor moon... it bugs me, really.

But, this match, after much deliberation, and rererererereading--you fiends need to stop passing the crackpipe--goes to LocoColt

EDIT by Spike: "Worst match we've judged", not that the match was a bad match, but it was very confusing. The connection of the arena to the thoughts of both contestants was brilliant, but made it harder to follow than The Scarlet Letter. Unlike Syd, I didn't have a problem with the beginning of your intro, LC, though I did find that your intros seem to be very similar to each other, Indigo, which hurt, as I've read every single one so far, so it felt like reading similar material over again. Sort of like reading Pride and Prejudice followed by Sense and Sensibility. I certainly agree with his point about translations--it just kills your flow COMPLETELY. There were flow problems, and I really think the battle may have been easier to if I were stoned right now, but there you go. Good battle though.