Spring 2007 R2-4: Overdriven v. psiko -- Poenari Castle (Ruins)

[Shan'do Spike]

Reference this thread for bracket information. Reference this thread for environment information.

You have from now until the 5th of April to finish your round. Good luck!

Welcome to the second round:


Remember, your characters have been teleported to this location via the powers of the gods/aliens (call them anything but judges). Because this is the second round, long introductory posts explaining your characters' journey prior to abduction are acceptable, so try to keep this aspect of the opening post shorter.

Remember in Round 2, Character 1 will be used.

Again, good luck, and more importantly, have fun!

[Overdriven]

In mid swing, the Spellsword found himself with nothing to actually swing at. Aiden stumbled, barely keeping himself from falling flat on his face from the overused momentum. Stuttering to a stop, the Battle Mage searched the area immediately in front of him with deep brown eyes.

No longer was he on a cloud. He had been transported instantly, again, to what appeared to be a castle of some kind. However, it was in various stages of ruin and was hardly what could be called a fortress anymore. Even so, it was familiar ground.

"Ha ha!" He said, thrusting Argentius high into the air. "That's more like it! Princess, we've taken leave of that accursed cloud!"

However, as Aiden turned back to share his elated joy with Cassandra, he realized that the Princess was no longer with him. He lowered his weapon, brow furrowing as he quickly scanned the decrepit stone and mortar. She was nowhere to be found.

"Cassandra?" He inquired of the air, before lifting his gaze to the sky. "Where have you taken her!?"

His shout went unanswered, and Aiden felt his hand tighten on the hilt of his blade. After what seemed like forever, the Spellsword gave up on a response. He then had to remind himself to loose his grip, and let the blood rush back to his fingers. He wanted to scream at these interlopers, these beings that had taken him from his own world, and endagered his charge: The most holy Princess of Aeslia.

"Well," He said, his voice calm in spite of his inner turmoil. "This must mean I have advanced in the Tournament. Perhaps she was left behind?"

Aiden turned to look to his left, across the land that sprawled out below the mountain castle. It was no place from Aeslia, that was certain. He was in yet another world. Another time.

All I must do is continue on. If Cassandra was removed from the tournament, and not me, then surely she is fine. I shall just have to win this tournament, and get her back.

Using those words as fuel for his inner fire, Aiden stoked them to draw courage. He gripped Argentius tightly in his right hand, and nodded only once. He would continue with the Tournament of Arms, and do his best to be the victor. In doing so, he would do the ever-so-cliche thing, and save his Princess from ultimate peril.

"I do grow weary of saving the day..." He said quietly to, he believed, only himself.

[Psiko]

The minutes pass by, yet nothing happens. T'grrt restlessly paces within the quaking arena, awaiting signs of their opponents. Ana nervously stands in the center of the room, clutching her knife for comfort. The stones on the floor begin to fall free, yet still no sign of their opponents can be seen. A blinding flash of light consumes the room, and T'grrt finds himself in a new location.

He finds himself alone at the foot of a mountain. A seemingly endless flight of stairs looms before him. He looks for Ana, but sees no sign of her anywhere. He is confused by this new turn of events, but sees no alternative but to press on. He shifts into his tiger form and begins running up the stairs at a measured pace.

Time seems to slow as he goes up stair after stair. He has no idea how long it has been, but when he reaches the top he is exhausted. A river of red lies before him, with a rickety bridge extending above. On the other side he sees a man wearing a thick cloak over tanned leather armor. A blade is in his hand, and it appears as though he has been waiting for some time.

T'grrt shifts back to human form and moves onto the bridge. As he crosses the world seems to shift back to his home. He sees his lover, T'grss locked in a cage, surrounded by filthy human slaves. They have blades of some sort that glow with lightning, sending jolts of energy into her body. She roars in pain and T'grrt charges forward, transforming into his Tiger form once more. He leaps into the air, aiming to pounce on the humans.

While in mid-air, reality comes back. His massive form is flying through the air at this human opponent. It seems as though the battle has finally begun. He swipes a massive paw at the man's face, hoping to end this quickly so he can return home.

[Overdriven]

Aiden stood nonchalantly, most of his weight resting on his left leg. He wasn't sure where his opponent was, or even if he had one. Looking around anxiously, the Spellsword wondered how long he had been waiting. It had felt like an eternity, but was most likely no more than a handful of minutes.

Maybe I'm supposed to go looking for my next foe? Or perhaps this is more of a mission. But they called it a Tournament, what kind of Tournament doesn't have-

His thoughts were cut off by a defeaning roar. Aiden jumped, turning quickly toward the sound. What he saw, leaping through the air at him, drew his lips apart and made circles of his eyes. A tiger form, but as much man as beast, was bearing down on him, claw raised.

Instinct kicked in then, and Aiden dropped. A paw flashed past his face, a wicked set of retractable claws slicing the air where he had been a split second before. There was no form or grace to his dodge, simply the panic of a body in danger. Aiden let his left leg, still holding most of his weight, give out. He dropped to a roll, Argentius clanging on the stone floor as he put a little distance between him and the were-tiger.

The Battle Mage rose quickly, angling his sword tightly across his body. His face had gone from shock to anger in an instant, at the creatures dis-honorable attempt at his life. This was a Tournament, for Heaven's Sake. It wasn't called the Brawl of Claws.

"Watch it Furball." Aiden growled, noting his wasn't half as impressive.

The Sorceror lunged forward, directing the point of his blade forward and down as he thrust. Light flashed off of the gleaming sword, as Aiden attempted as sharp jab at the creature's left leg, which was the closest appendage to him. The cut wouldn't be deep, as Aiden didn't want to commit himself into the range of those claws.

He instead adjusted his grip on the sword, angling it up and skyward in a diagonal slash. The followup attack wasn't designed to fully cut his opponent, merely to get a scratch in past that fur. The maneuver also had another purpose: To change Aiden's fighting style.

The Man-Tiger had already shown an aptitude for aerial acrobatics, and a low guard would made his upper body vulnerable to attack. So Aiden raised the sword above his head, taking a meduim upper guard, with his elbows held a bit below his shoulders. In this guard he would be able to deter anymore wild leaping slashes at his face and throat, and still provide him with adequate defense from the chest to the knees. He would rely on his own agility and mobility to keep the Fuzzy Man from taking out his feet.

[Psiko]

The swiping paw is easily dodged. T'grrt lands on the ground with a grunt and spins back around, snarling menacingly. He avoids a lunging thrust from his opponent. He lets out a laugh that comes out more like a roar, but his humor is quickly cut short by a sharp pain in his side. The return slash doesn't cut deep, but it is enough to tear through his hide. The shock of the pain causes him to wince and he instinctively returns to his human form.

He breathes heavily as the blood drips from his side. His yellow eyes flash with rage as he stares down at his opponent, who is standing on guard. T'grrt's hands close around his claws and he begins to pace slowly in a circle around Aiden. His lips lift into a sneer as he attempts to intimidate his opponent. He feigns a charge, watching how Aiden reacts. His mind is calculating the risks of his next move, deciding which course of action is best.

His surroundings offer little assistance. With a river of blood on one side and a castle on the other, the terrain is tactically useless. He will have to rely on his natural strength and agility to best his opponent. He charges, throwing one metal claw up to intercept where he anticipates Aiden's defensive strike to be, bringing the other claw around in a sweeping arc that, if unguarded, will catch Aiden shallowly across his face.

Following the attack T'grrt will dodge back to a distance and crouch defensively, prepared for any attack.

[Overdriven]

The shallow wound inflicted by Aiden's sword threw the beastman off, and apparently caused him to transform back into a human form. It seemed his transformation wasn't very reliable, but Aiden wouldn't place face in that assumption. The man could still have remarkable strength and speed, not to mention any hidden magical talents.

The two warriors circled each other for a moment, Aiden's foe snarling at him, even in human form. The man began a charge, which Aiden was prepared for. He dropped his blade to prepare for a defensive strike, only to see the Were-tiger back off. He was only testing the waters.

Aiden contemplated on this for a moment, deciding whether or not he should just press the attack. The beast could be buying time so it could turn into it's other form once more. The Spellsword didn't get his chance, as his opponent charged once more. This time the man's heart was in it.

Argentius flashed down in a gleam of bluish silver, striking the opening strike to the side. The claw and blade deflected off of each other, and it was only then that Aiden realized he wasn't yet out of danger. The man had swung the second metal claw straight at his face.

Aiden leaned back, backpeddling furiously in an attempt to completely avoid the claw. He couldn't quite clear the attack, and even though he turned his face away from the swing, he felt a hot pain across his left cheek. He stumbled back, leveling Argentius in front of his body.

He didn't need to touch the wound to know it wasn't too bad. More of a scratch, and in that he had been lucky. The claws the tiger man possessed looked as though they could cleave flesh from bone, and they nearly had a chance to prove so. He had been lucky to walk away with a single cut across his cheek.

Aiden narrowed his eyes at the man, as his foe moved back to a defensive crouch. The Weretiger was still very strong, and seemed just as fast as he had been before. Almost too fast for Aiden to defend easily against, as Argentius was a rather extended sword. He couldn't keep up with that speed if he was constantly trying to keep his foe on the end of his sword.

There has to be a way to counter his physical superiority.

Dark eyes remained locked on his opponent, as Aiden's mind spun. His surroundings, could they be used? The Spellsword chanced a glance around him. Mostly stone floor and, oddly enough, a river of blood. A ludicrous idea swam into his head, regarding that river, but he let it fall away as the tide. Such a spell was far too costly, at least right now.

Aiden had already decided on a good tactic before he realized it, and quickly reversed the grip on his sword. The Sorceror plunged Argentius downward, thrusting the tip of the blade into the worn stone beneath his feet. He immediately began a silent inquiry, his words flowing like water. He would have to use very calm, smooth incantations, for what he wished to do.

The effect was near immediate. As the runes on the blade of his sword began to shimmer, and the silver tuft of hair on head began to glow, the Earth responded. His request had been to turn a part of the ground into a sinkhole, much like quicksand, and that is why he had to be mindful of his incantations. Only flowing, liquid words of power would seep into the stone.

Instantly the once solid ground beneath the Were-tigers feet would go soft. If he still stood in the same spot, it would suck him down to just above the knees, and make moving very difficult. Aiden wished he could seal the stone, but it was impossible. Assuming for a moment that his enemies legs had been trapped in the liquid stone: Re-hardening the stone wouldn't trap him within it, for the liquid would solidify to the same mass it had been before. He would instead be thrust up and out of the hole.

So Aiden had merely made the sinkhole, allowing it to remain open until he conciously implored the ground to solidify once more, in the hopes of capturing his opponents legs.

Even as he completed the words for the sinkhole, Aiden held up his free hand. He needed a weapon to use against the beastman, to keep him from getting too close. Though, the Spellsword did not know what would work on such a warrior. So Aiden decided to merely trust in the Arcane flow of the world. He spoke a silent mantra in his head, and hoped.

Something to use on a cat. Something to use on a cat. Something to use on a cat.

He concentrated as he began to conjure the item, not taking his eyes off of the Tiger/Human. He drew Argentius from the stone as he attempted to draw a new weapon, something effective against his foe, from the very heart of all Arcana.

Swinging his sword in front of his body, Aiden felt the object appear in his left hand. With a lighthearted laugh, he turned his gaze from his opponent for but a moment, taking in the new and deadly weapon.

He held in his hand a ball of yarn.

"What? Are you kidding me?!"