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Bear

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I've been having trouble keeping up with battles and challenges, complex characters, amazing magic abilities and the sort. So, I'm proposing a simple hand-to-hand combat ( NON-POWERCHARACTER ) battle to Stryfe. Hopefully I regain whatever I had before by facing someone out of my league. ( Not that I haven't been doing that recently. ) The rules are those set by KHI, no g-moding, no p-playing, the works.

Templates aren't needed, only a description of the character and name in your intro post. Stryfe may choose the battle location. ;] Judges aren't needed, but I suppose some can volunteer for future use, if we need them.

Well, there you have it. It's on Stryfe.

( No other challengers. )
 

Stryfe

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but i r n00bish and spell gud not.

i want 2 go 2 a desert arena plz.

Yea, it's on. Bring it. You open up with the first post. I need to warm-up my writing skillz.
 

Bear

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lol warm-up your skills? What skills? =D Btw, this'll be a bad post. I'm being rushed :/

The gates opened, letting sunlight flood into the room. The bright rays revealed a row of men sitting on a bench lining the wall, watched by nearly a dozen guards. Most of them were ratty looking men, and others just men. One of them wore a ripped shirt, with a small towel around his waist. Another wore just a towel, and a small metal plate on his shoulder. His other shoulder was wrapped in blood-stained bandages, as was his wrist. All of them looked to be in their mid twenties.

Among them, stood one very different man. A young, perhaps twenty, tall, dark-blonde boy. Unlike the rest of the men, he was suited for battle, and fantastically. A beautifully embellished white and black armour sat on his chest, a fine pair of boots on his feet, gloves belted tight on his hands, and a smooth sheath embedded with design hung from the side of his waist. A foreign emblem was painted in red on his shoulderplates.

He leaned against the wall, coughing uncomfortably. The heat was unbearable, and the guards staring at him made him all the more nervous. It had been an extremely rough day, consisting of being chased by an eighth of the royal guard, three bounty hunters, and a very sly knight, who's name currently escaped him. He slid down the wall some, and changed his position. Waiting had made him quite tired, and his eyes felt like they were being covered by two bricks for eyelids. But, he kept them open, fearing what would happen if he let himself rest.

Two guards walked over to him. One was short and kind of fat, with a bulbed nose and two beady eyes. The other was tall and slim, with a pointy nose and wide eyes. The tall one cleared his throat, raising a piece of paper that he had in his hands. He began to read, in a clear, stern voice. Everyone directed their attention to him.

"Sir Ase, I, royal guard and keeper of peace in the arena, hearby announce that you are now, and forever, unless said otherwise by his highness, a prisoner of the kingdom, and will face continuous penalties until ordered," before he could say anymore, the man Ase had arose, and began to interupt. His voice was deep, young, and intelligent. He spoke with absolutely no indication of accent, besides his somewhat formal tone. "I hearby announce that you should check on your wife; she wasn't feeling too well last night." The men around him burst out in laughter. It was quickly silenced by the guard.

"You will be sorry for mocking me, boy, I assure you of that." With that, he agressively unlocked Ase's chains, releasing him to another guard; it was the fat one. He grabbed Ase's arm, and started towards the opened gates, advancing very slowly. Judging by the way the guard panted and sweat heavily, Ase could tell he wasn't a fan of motion in heat, or a fan of any motion at all.

Innumerous amounts of people filled the stands, overlooking the sand-filled arena, and screaming to no limitation. Ase glanced around, noticing the arena's perfectly circlular shape, and it's slick fifteen foot wall bounderies. To his left, was a pair of oddly shaped statues of knights, and between them, and giant throne. The king himself sat upon the seat, and around him, twenty or more knights stood guard. Two women were tending to his complications with the heat by fanning him with large leaves.

The pudgy guard pushed Ase further into the arena, laughing as he did. He then walked back through the opened gates, and from the inside, closed the gates with the aid of a few more guards. Ase forced himself to his feet. While surveying the raging crowd, he came to a realization; it was a game. Most likely, he would have to fight some horrendous creature to live. The thought of refusing came to him also, but, following that thought, was a vision of the fat guard severing his head. So, he kept silent, and waited.
 
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Stryfe

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His hand tightened against the hilt of his broadsword. The leather weaved in and out as he waited patiently for the gates to rise for his match to begin. With each passing second his body became more impatient for the battle to begin, but it could not be seen by anyone. If anything, his complexion remained the same as if he had no emotions. Looking at his young face you wouldn't believe such a feet, but the fact that he could do this even when his life would be on the line showed how many times he was in the face of death. An uncountable number, but surely if he was there, it would mean he was victorious each time.

As he stood in the walkway waiting for the gates to rise, the shadows seemed to dance according to the flickers of candles that were on the wall. The flickering of flames could reveal his faint outline in the dark, but nothing more. His armor seemed to absorb the light, as if it were pitch black. The scales were the only part of the armor that glistened with each passing spec of light, but that was not enough for sight. In contrast to his armor, his broadsword seemed to reflect the light ten-fold, casting an eerie shine in the hallway. The diamond forged sword was forged from the best of materials. To others, the sword looked immense, but it really was light as a feather and able to be controlled easily. The hilt was the only part that he had touched himself, though. The leather that he was so fond of was that of the skin of dead men sewn together.

The silence soon was broken when an echo came down the hall for him. "Are you ready, Kai?," The echo said as it whizzed by his ears. The words finally came to him that he wanted to hear. His eyes shifted upwards to face the gate in front of him and with a mere nod, the gates creaked and lifted. The dust that was on the ground stirred from the uprising of the gates. A smirk soon appeared on his face as he walked forward towards the sun-soaked arena. His sword dragged in the dirt behind him as he pulled it with one hand. His trail was all that was left remaining in the hallway, nothing more and nothing less.

The arena made him pull up his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun. It was blazing outside, perfect for a battle. His armor could be seen better now as it was in broad daylight. The red-teared armor was soaked with blood of battles passed, making the once white with shimmering gold a dark crimson with shimmering gold. The scales that flickered soon shown brightly outside, revealing the symbol of death in his native language. His gauntlets on his hand and his platted shoes appeared much in the same way. Shimmering gold chain mail connected the pieces.

His hand that shielded his eyes dropped when he got accustomed to the light a few minutes after his entrance. Shifting his eyes back and forth he could see the crowd that had shown up, his opponent, and the king. Letting out a small chuckle, he continued his pace to the center of the ring. The crowd seemed to be in dead silence as he entered, something which he liked for the most part. It was an awkward feeling for any opponent not having been here before, but home sweet home to him. The dust swirled beneath his feet when he came to a stop 25 yards away from the opponent in front of him. His eyes caught what seemed to be an average knight, but to be in an arena like this means there is more to you than just the outside impression. He lifted his sword into the air above him and the dust fell from it, revealing the crystal blade. Slamming it back down hard into the earth next to him, his voice boomed through the silence of the arena like a plague, "Well, shall we?"

(Sorry, I sort of rushed and am tired. The next one should be better. =/)
 
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Bear

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A grin spread across Ase's face, revealing his pearly white teeth. Just by looking at the man, he had a good idea of what he was in for; a very good fight. Only the best were brought to the king's arena, and he knew of course, that new opponents always faced the undefeated champion. The man must have won countless battles to be in the arena now.

He reached around to his sheath, gripping the handle of his blade. It slid out silently, shining as the sunlight met it's reflective silver. The hilt was yellowish gold, and the blade a beautiful bluish silver. It sparkled as it mirrored it's wielder's armour, flawlessly imitating the cream white and pitch black. Ase brought it around to his right side, gently letting it drop to rest on the sand. The crowd cheered as he made a motion with his hand, signaling his opponent to attack first. When the sound died, he cleared his throat to speak.

"We shall."
 

Stryfe

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As the dust flew from when he smashed his sword into the dirt, he couldn't help but notice the small grains of sand fly forth. It seemed as though the ground was dry as can be, making it easy for dust to be up heaved. When the dust settled from the smash, he could see the blade buried deep within the sand in the corner of his eye, making a smirk appear across his face. His hands slipped from the handle that he loved fondling, only to be lifted up into the air into a massive shrug. "Why are people so eager to die these days," he said, "It only makes the world's population diminish. But, whatever your fancy...."

His arms lowered back down to his side, but only his left one grasped the handle of the diamond constructed sword. The leather soaked in the grooves of his hand once more giving him sensation once more. His other hand, the right one, moved forward outstretched in front. His palm was facing towards his opponent, making his stance seem more complete. His legs started to kick dust up as he dragged them into position. His right foot was a foot forward compared to his back left one that was still positioned at the sword's crater. His once calm, peaceful eyes suddenly turned into hate and deceit. His young facial expression soon turned into a stern, bold look of a warrior. The sand stirred once again, encasing him into a small dust storm.

Kai, or so he was called, soon saw the mockery of his opponent. The signal hand moved seem to insult him as he was the one who should be taunting. Nevertheless, he remained calm and nothing seem to become out of order as he watched his opponent signal him to fight. His eyes shifted up and down looking for a weak point in the man's stance, which was easily notified. Kai tightened his hand around the leather before he made his move. This was it, the beginning of the battle.

Letting out a fierce scream, he swung his buried sword forwards, kicking up sand into his opponent's view. As the wall of thick sand flew in front of him, Kai soon used it as his chance to attack. Moving as fast as he could, he appeared directly behind the sand as it flew forwards. Not seen from the opposite of the sand wall, it gave him the perfect chance to attack at a full blown force. Almost as if it were habit, his mind suddenly ticked into what was really going on. Knowing that the opponent could be doing the same thing as him, he suddenly backed off from trailing the sand. Instead, his weight shifted to the right and leaped to the edge of the wall. when his foot then caught ground, he lunged forwards at the opponent with both hands on the sword as if he were a lion attacking his prey.

(Short, sorry. Occupied talking.)
 
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