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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 18, 2006 21:30:52 GMT -5
This is where we fight.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 18, 2006 21:32:28 GMT -5
you go first
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 18, 2006 21:53:17 GMT -5
Tarnon walks up the long ramp way. He tries to keep his vision foward to not spy the blood stained walls on either side of him. Why was Mathis always walking around with cleaning equipment, but everything here is always still dirty?
He shakes the thought out of his head. His mind wasn't really on this match, He hasn't heard of this... Larn fellow before. New to his rank. He wasn't that worried, if Mathis was right Larn should go down easy.
Truth is Tarnon was upset. Alyiin walked in while he was talking to Seraph. She looked disturbed. He figures he should feel good about the fact she actually seemed jealous that he was talking to another girl, but he couldn't handle the thought that Alyiin might be mad at him.
Tarnon takes a deep breath as he makes sure his equipment is securely fastened. He can hear the crowd roaring from the Arena's stands. A surprising number have come to watch this match. It seems there was some excitement buzzing about this bout.
The gates begin to rattle, as they slowly decend. Tarnon closes his eyes, clearing his mind of all thoughts. He knows he must concentrate on the match before him. He desperatly needed to advance so he could join his Alyiin.
Tarnon opens his eyes and enters. The Fans get to their feet as he steps into the sand of the Arena. Mathis has been slacking of late it seems, as broken swords and shields of battles past are strung randomly around the Arena floor. Even a corpse can be seen laying against the far wall, his head impaled by a rusty spike from the Arena's wall.
Tarnon draws a single steel arrow, and loads it, pulling back the string on his crossbow. He holds it at the ready, as he waits to get a glance at his opponent.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 18, 2006 22:09:07 GMT -5
Larn slowly walks out from under the pit, hearing the crowd roar long before he sets eyes on them. Looking around, he smiles, seeing all the weapons and tools he can use for this match. He asses his opponent, a measly wood elf, a steel bow in his girp with a arrow pointing towards Larn. Seeing his cheering section roar in approval, he flourishes his new steel weapons, enjoying the more deadly feel to them, no matter if it was just a small match.
Walking slowy, the clotted sand and armor crunch underneath his boots, his weapons still spinning, yet completely under his control. The sun beams down on him, every particle of sand shinning. Noticing something, he turns his blade, using it as a mirror to beam light in his opponenets eyes as he charges him, his mace with now spikes fused to it gleaming.
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Post by me on Oct 18, 2006 22:23:26 GMT -5
Phoenix having counseled himself about the disappearing weapons danced into the bleachers ready to watch the battle. Then his jaws fell slack seeing the broken swords that litter the ground. "Thats where they all go when I lose them," he said in awe.
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Post by RareCarpet on Oct 19, 2006 14:24:02 GMT -5
Krans watches his hated enemy emerge from the gates, glaring at him as the crowd grows louder as they see their so-called hero. Errrrrrr, pure dumb luck He thinks to himself. The fan nearest him turns and see the warrior who lost his tail. He quickly turns around as Krans turns his glare at him. Krans then looks at the pit of the arena below.
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 20, 2006 3:42:32 GMT -5
OOC: sorry it took me so long to take my turn.
(IC): Tarnon watches his opponent enter the arena. A Breton... probably well more in tune with his Magicka then he was. The Breton lifts his mace high and charges. Tarnon lifts his crossbow to eye level, and uses his keen eyesight to look for the critical shot. He spots his moment and eases his finger back on the trigger.
Suddenly a blinding light hits his eyes. The arrow lets loose, but his aim was poor at best. Tarnon sidesteps out of the beam's way. His vision remains blurry for a moment, but his eyes regain their focus just in time.
Larn is right in front of him now and Tarnon has little time to think. He draws his steel shortsword, drops... Taking a swing at his charging opponents knee. He quickly rolls to the side and stands. Now behind Larn, Tarnon coats his blade with a damage willpower enchantment. He lifts his arm high and throws his sword at the Breton's back.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 20, 2006 6:17:13 GMT -5
Feeling the blade slice his kneecaps, blood drips through his now ragged rainment. Angirly, and grunting, Larn grabs his opponenet and throws him over his back. Grinning through his hair at his enemies startled expression, Larn attempts to wind his opponenet or worse. Raising his foot, he aims to crack his opponents ribs with a vicous stomp. During which, he stabs into the sand, trying catch him if he espaces while he also throws a fire spell to the left.
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 21, 2006 0:45:51 GMT -5
Tarnon is grabbed and thrown forward. He recovers in mid air and uses his nimble gifts to attempt to evade the Bretons attacks. He hits the ground and flips backwards twisting. His Expertise with light armor, makes it seem as if he were wearing none.
Larn fires a flaming sphere to Tarnon's right, which hits a nearby pillar. The explosion throws Tarnon towards Larn, who stabs his sword into the sand. Tarnon reacts quickly and steps on the flat of Larns blade and climbs up his arm. He flips backward and loads his crossbow swiftly in mid air.
Before he even hits the ground, Tarnon aims his weapon at Larns head, but did not see Larns leg, as his foot connects with Tarnon's Raiment. The raiment suffers most of the damage, denting inward with the powerful blow. Still Tarnon is thrown backwards and His breath leaves his lungs as his back lands in the arena sand.
Tarnon acts quickly, still sliding backwards from the momentum of Larns attack, he closes one eye and aims carefully. Tarnon releases the arrow in his crossbow and watches it fly towards Larn's side. Tarnon rolls backwards back to his feet, and loads another arrow on pure instinct. His hands move fluidly as he fires one arrow after another.
Three arrows now fly towards Larn. The last, coated with the same drain willpower skill, his dagger's blade had been coated with. Tarnon looks around for his dagger, as he waits to see if his arrows reach their target.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 21, 2006 9:59:44 GMT -5
Three darts whiz through the air, Larn throwing himself down on instinct only. The poisined one whizzes overhead, sticking into a crumbling wall. The two others implant themselves deep in his shoulder, causing a slight but infuriating injury. Pulling out the arrow by the shafts slowly,blood stains the steel tips. Dropping them in the stand he regards his opponent thoughtfully.
Slowly, Larn's eyes green eclipse the pupils, building into a fury. The crowd stands on their feet, cheering, knowing that this is when the fight actually begins. Snarling, Larn fires two draining spells, one to tire him out, the other to weaken his skills with a bow.t. Seeing his enemy rush for his dagger, Larn roars, screaming complex words. White mist surrounds his legs, his speed boosted to heinous levels, but depleting most of his magicka. Running at exponential speeds, the wind tears at his hair, blowing back in a almost comic fashion if it was not for the very deadly weapons in his hand. Pushing off his legs with all his strength, he soars towards his opponent. Quickly, Larn slashes at his opponents quiver, trying to cut all his arrows to shreds while he brings the mace down on his opponents skull.
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 22, 2006 2:08:45 GMT -5
Tarnon loads another arrow into his crossbow as he rushes for his dagger. Larn glows in a brilliant light, and fires a mystic force towards him. Tarnon rolls and dodges the first blast but gets hit by the second. He stammers for a moment, but feels unaffected by the spell.
Larn whispers some kind of enchantment low in his breath, as Tarnon aims his crossbow towards his opponents head.. Suddenly Tarnon's hands begin to shake, as he notices his ability to aim is poor at best. "Ah a drain skill spell... clever this one is"
Tarnon makes haste to his dagger, but Larn moves with a swiftness Tarnon has never seen. Tarnon dives for his dagger in a desperate attempt to evade Larn's attack. He grabs his dagger firmly in his hand, but feels Larn's blade slice through the quiver on his back. The wooden arrows severed, and useless fall to the sand below.
Tarnon keeps his momentum going forward and runs up a nearby pillar, narrowly missing Larn's Mace. Tarnon leaps off the pillar backwards and lands behind Larn, swinging his dagger past his ragged Raiment.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 22, 2006 14:56:44 GMT -5
The blade cuts into Larn's back, blood dripping down from his rags. Furious, Larn roars out a brief if powerful incantation, tearing the rest of the magicka from his spirit. His wounds seal, as he pants silently, reguarding his opponent bemused, if angrily. While his opponent is faster, Larn still has the advantage of more power, weapons, and reach. The Bosmer smiles, however Larn spots frusteration and anger in his eyes, knowing how it feels to be bested by a new commer.
Walking towards him, Larn smiles, noticing where his opponent landed. Turning qiuck Larn positions himelf in a way that his enemy has no where to go but back up, the large wooden spikes on the side brushing the back of his enemies rainment. Raising both of his weapons to mid-height, he slashes with his sword three times, one directed to his enemies left shoulder, to his neck, and his chest, the wind whirling over the blade as the sun makes the steel finish gleam. Raising the mace like the War-hammer of Zentihar, he brings it down towards his oppenent's right shoulder, hoping to snap his fragile collar bone.
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 23, 2006 5:08:41 GMT -5
Tarnon's blade connects as it slices through the back of his opponent. Tarnon, smiles slightly as Larn turns to face him. The Breton whispers an incantation as he is suddenly surrounded by a bright blue light that swirls around him in magnificent wonder. It dissipates quickly leaving him healed from the Bosmer's attack.
Tarnon feels a little less confident and looks around realizing he has put himself in a bad situation. The Arena walls scrap against his raiment. The wood elf knows he must be careful and not get impaled by the spikes along the Arena's wall. Larn seems to have that very thought in mind as he approaches sword drawn. He throws his sword forward towards the Bosmer several times.
Tarnon yells as the blade pierces his left shoulder. He leans his head steeply to the side narrowly missing the swords edge to his neck, that instead removes several spikes from the Arena's wall. The third slash is jabbed hard into his raiment. it is diverted only slightly before the steel buries itself into the Bosmer's flesh on his right side.
Tarnon drops face forward into the sand, and looks up as the Breton lifts his mace high into the air. The Bosmer grabs one of the wooden spikes that were severed from the wall, and brings it down towards Larn's right foot. He uses all his upper body strength and kicks off the Arena's wall... Pushing himself forward he lunges between the Imperial's legs. He spins to his right and brings his enchanted dagger to the back of Larn's right thigh.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 23, 2006 15:11:21 GMT -5
Blood pours from his wound, his gaze growing blurry. Using the final amount of magicka, he stops the bleeding, but cannot meld the flesh together. Stumbling backward, he remembers the style of combat least seen in the arena.
Crouching, he stares at his opponent, beconning forward with his left hand, dropping his weapons with a clatter, adding them to the ruined debris. His oppenent laughs quietly, running forward with his dagger low, trying to disembowel arn.
Using the last amount of his enhanced speed, Larn side-steps to the right and delives a vicious straight punch, aimed to shatter the wood elf's wrist. Quickly, Larn kicks towards the wood elfs shoulder, remembering the unarmed techinques taught by the monks he had lived with. Slowly, he jumps, roundhousekicking the bosmer, drops like a rock, and preforms a sweeping kick, hoping to finish the fight with his elaborate fighting.
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 23, 2006 16:29:29 GMT -5
Tarnon's dagger connects as its enchanted blade does its work. The Breton attempts to heal, but his Magicka is too low, and his skill is drained by the Daggers enchantment. Still Larn, shows no fear. He crouches low and throws down his weapons to challenge his opponent to a brawl. He extends his left hand and taunts Tarnon.
Angered by this action, Tarnon rushes towards Larn. The Breton stands ready and delivers a blow to Tarnon's wrist. CRACK... The noise rings loud enough that some of the cheering onlookers could hear the breaking bone, as the crippling pain shoots up Tarnon's arm. The Bosmer's dagger falls helplessly to the ground, as Larn throws a kick to Tarnon's shoulder.
His main attributes being Speed, and Agility, and being an Expert in Block, pay off for Tarnon, as he is able to deflect most of the oncoming attacks from his opponent. Tarnon concentrates and uses the Mara's Gift, the power of his birth sign, and feels replenished as his cuts and bruises are completely healed. The bone in his wrist heals only slightly however, and still hurts when moved.
For the next several minutes the two combatants brawl with their fists. Round houses, backhand punches, and uppercuts, just a few of their arsenal. The Breton's Hand to Hand skills are superb as he pummels the quicker wood elf with his fists. Both men hurt... Both men tired. Their will goes on long after their bodies give out.
The crowd gets to their feet, and gives the two combatants a roar of approval. They got what they came for. Tarnon, kneels.. unable to stand. He breaths heavily and nods to his opponent in respect. The match is a close one.. and its outcome.... left to the gods to decide.
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