Open Chronicles L-l-l-let's Get Ready to Rumble!

[TTamark]

The sun rose over the site of the arena, as people who had traveled from all over Arethil already began to pile in to watch the gladiatorial games. Even this early in the morning festivities were already in full swing. Vendors for almost any good imaginable lined the inside of the arena as well as the roads leading to it. Selling cushions and blankets, food and drink, wooden swords, and even rare pets. In the center of the arena itself, where the fighting happened, beasts and men already fought among each other. The beasts brought from far off lands as spectacle, and men to prove their bravery and skill to take such beings down.
The cheers of the crowed could be heard for miles, as they screamed out their desires, and awe.

Eventually the day wore on, and the next bit of entertainment grew nearer. The most exiting games: those of man vs man. The warriors who agreed to participate in the tournament were called into the middle as the rules were laid before them by a large gruff looking man covered in scars, and bearing a large gut.

"Aright so here is the general run down: You will be matched up with another contestant to fight in the arena. You will all be fighting in the arena all at once. You are forbidden from interfering with anyone else's fights. The winner of the fight will be determined when their opponent either raises their hand and make known their surrender, or their opponent does not get up from the ground for ten counts. We would like it if you would avoid killing your opponent, but understand if it can not be helped. Each contestant is allowed to have one defeat before they are removed from the tournament. I will be telling you who your opponents will be throughout the contest. After a fight you will be allowed up to five minutes to recuperate before you will be asked to fight you next opponent, so save your stamina well. Magic, as well as magic items are permitted, but we will remind you that you should avoid interfering with other fights, so be careful with any large spells.

Royal Gladiator Fights Company is not responsible for any injuries that may occur during these fights. By entering you are awarded a fifty gold reward. By entering you accept your membership as an RGFC employee, and if you wish to terminate your contract you will be required to pay fifty gold for any inconvenience you departure may cause the company. Alright let us have some good clean fights out there, and may the odds be ever in your favour!"

First round:
@T'suris Flameblade Vs Gracia von Stehlen | Smiling One Vs Ermengarde | Infernal Vs seogsa | Arumi Shacen Vs Szesh | Aeyliea Vs Grozkalla

OOC: This is completely open so everyone is free to join. If you want to have someone join the fight, or you are in the fight and don't have a partner, I will provide one for you. Please feel free to message me though the site, the LFG, or through Discord over absolutely anything.

 

[Infernal]

[Match between Infernal and seogsa]

Deep breath in, deep breath out. This was a battle, just like any other, and she shouldn't feel any differently about it. If only there weren't so many people yelling in the stands. She couldn't remember a time when she had to deal with that kind of distraction.

With her hammer held just below the head, she looked for a moment at the Rune which glowed with a soft white light upon the center of the top of it. Hopefully it was enough, and if not, she was going to have to improvise. She couldn't worry about that now, all she could do was walk past those gates, and face what comes next with honor and valor. Hopefully the gods will protect her and deliver her to victory.

The sun was shining, the light beating down on her, and she knew she was going to be in for a difficult fight. Trust in your faith, in your mettle, and in your sword arm, she told herself. This was where she was going to prove herself as a true warrior, a Rune priestess who deserved to be looked at with awe instead of derision.

 

[childish brandino]

Kishou was no stranger to duels. He was all too familiar with the sensation of facing down a single opponent, either side prepared to be cut down.

However, never had one of his duels been made a spectacle. It was unsettling, having a boisterous crowd observe a fight to the death.

Ah, but they would rather us avoid killing. Kishou inhaled quite deeply, and tensed himself. It was a soothing feeling, flexing his muscles. Tightening his body to its limit and slowly releasing that tension put his jittery muscles to rest.

The crowd was quite boisterous, indeed. Each wave of cheers shook the ground. He found it hard to focus, and it seemed as if the cheers were immovable weights. Kishou’s legs felt weak, and his back felt heavy. Were it not for the crowd, he’d be fully focused.

A man approached him, frantically speaking. Kishou did not hear him over his own thoughts, and the voice of the crowd. However, he knew it was time. He stepped forward. In front of him, two large wooden doors separated him from his opponent.

They began to open. A narrow beam of sunlight hit Kishou. He squinted his eyes against the sudden brightness. As the light grew, his eyes adjusted. He began to step out. The crowd, which he thought was loud before, seemed deafening now. Each cheer rattled him to his bones. Small hairs on his neck rose, and a shocking chill ran down his spine.

Any fear and anxiety left him when the small silhouette of a female dwarf appeared across from him. Those unnecessary emotions were replaced by excitement.

The two came to a halt at a significant distance from each other. His gaze met the dwarf’s. His bright yellow eyes seemed impossibly vivid under the sun. The long-haired swordsman flashed a charming smile at his opponent, and formally bowed to her.

When he rose, there was no smile. Only a cold, stoic expression void of any charm.

 

[Infernal]

It was then she knew the fight had started, and she raised her shield to keep her better protected. Pointing her hammer downwards, she allowed the head to fall until she was gripping the lower part of the handle. "By the fires of the God Forge, grant me your strength!"

A strong fire enveloped the head of her weapon, blazing red and orange as the Rune burned brightly. This was it, the time to fight, the time to prove her legend. Heat washed over her, making her sweat more than what the Sun was doing, but she had grown used to the fires of such things before, and was ready for it.

She charged, feeling the weight of the crowd behind her, cheering her on with their praise and desire for bloodshed. They wanted a fight, so she would give them one, and show each and every last one of them what she was made of.

"Raaaagh!" Squaring her feet, she swung a horizontal strike towards the side of the warrior, her shield raised high to protect herself.

 

[Aeyliea]

A fucking ogre.

They had pitted her against an ogre to begin with, as if that was going to be a fair and balanced encounter. Far from it. The beast would have her in reach, weight, height, and strength, ceding the ground on speed - probably - and nimbleness. Although, of course, she had seen some very...agile giants before, in the course of her work.

She had to consider her options in the coming confrontation; short stabbing spears and buckler were definitely not an option, as her opponent would likely be able to easily overpower her if she tried to go strength to strength, toe to toe. That left her with her preferred weapon, the great two-handed blade that was even now on her back as she walked into the arena. She had no eyes for the conflict around her, focused on her own coming conflict.

She wore chain over leather, light links designed to stop all but the most brutal of slashes but likely ineffective against thrusts from her foe, especially in this case. The leather she wore under it was died red, black, and gold in the style of her mercenary outfit's colors, and fit her well, finely crafted as it was. The long hilt of her sword stuck up over her back, white hair laying across it in an intricate braid that included the bones of small animals, feathers, and colorful beads to the point that it looked like some kind of headdress.

She moved with the grace of a lioness, hips swaying in an alluring manner despite the fact that this was clearly not the place. As she approached the intended battleground, she reached up and released the blade, bringing it round in a one handed grip that was for show and not really all that useful for fighting.

She would also cede the opening move to her opponent. Best to see what it was she was dealing with, after all.

Grozkalla

 

[Faravain]

In Kalit, they called him an ogre, to all others to the East he would have been known as an orc, albeit blue and with small eyes.

The Third Talon of the Bronze Claw, Grozkalla of Kherkhana, wore his usual garb: a lamellar chestpiece with matching pauldrons and some sturdy leather trousers. He also carried three blades and a rather enormous recurve bow.

The blade on his back was massive and could be worn no other way, but he also wore a scimitar belted to his hip and a dagger a cubit long at the small of his back.

The bow he held in one hand. In the other he held four arrows, with obscenely thick shafts that looked large enough to take down a water buffalo in a single shot.

Other fights were already breaking out on the arena sands, but Grozkalla ignored them. His black braids swayed slightly as he knocked one of the broad heads to his bow.

They were separated by thirty paces. Grozkalla cleared his throat, thought about saying something, then shrugged. No point really.

His bow groaned as he drew it back and loosed in a smooth action, sending an arrow hurtling toward Aeyliea ‘s abdomen.

 

[Aeyliea]

She was moving before he had even half completed the smooth motion of knocking, drawing, and loosing. She was quick and light on her feet, and began making her way roundabout towards the towering warrior.

"Coward," she spit as the arrow whistled through the air, passing through the place where she had been moments before. If she hadn't anticipated the move, she would be dead right now. She would not waste any more breath on this cretin before her; he outmatched her in nearly every way and instead chose to use a ranged weapon against her.

Her stormy blue-grey eyes narrowed as she came within his reach, ready to evade or parry if need be. Two-handed sword wielded truly now, in both hands, she probed at the man with a testing slash, not expecting to connect but expecting to see the level of prowess at his disposal, as well as his own speed of defense.

 

[Faravain]

She covered the thirty paces in a mad dash, lithe and fleet of foot, managing to sidestep his arrow so neatly it looked almost casual.

Grozkalla grunted. That simply would not do. He threw his arrows and bow at her, stepping back to avoid the slash of her greatsword, then he reached back and unlimbered his own blade.

He held it in two hands, just as she did, but his was longer by far and curved slightly. Only one side of the sword bore an edge.

Grozkalla wasted little time now, but came at her with a high-low diagonal swing. The force of it was crushing, with a blade meant to lop off the legs of oncoming horses.

His natural expectation was that she would seek to sidestep the blow rather than meet it with a parry and risk his strength breaking her wrists as a result. The fragility of man.

He watched for the dodge, expectant.

 

[Aeyliea]

She sidestep the thrown weapons, which probably saved her life again. It slowed her just enough that, following his easy sidestep, that when he returned the favor she could react.

Aeyliea was no idiot. She was outclassed her in strength and weight, and was not fool enough to try to stop a blow of the magnitude leveled at her. There were ways to deal with stronger foes, and the first lesson to be learned was to not try to stand against them, at least not directly.

Her blade was already held in a particular manner as it was, and so she simply turned it so that the blunt edge was facing outward, but angled in such a way that the vast majority of the force from that fearsome blow would continue to be carried down into the ground.

The hit hurt. Even deflecting most of it, she could feel the blow in her bones, transmitted through her whole body. Had she even attempted to directly parry that, it might have broken her arms, or worse, cleaved her sword and left her a bloody ruin.

She ducked forward. She was too close to use the sword effectively now, just as he was too close to use his to good effect. Didn't matter, he could likely break bones with a simple hit. Instead of even trying to use her sword, she dropped low and kicked high, aiming for his sternum with all of her laughable weight and momentum behind it.

 

[Faravain]

Grozkalla took the kick full in the chest and felt it connect with the lamellar armor covering his torso, through the cloth beneath, and down into the bone of his sternum.

A well-placed kick.

But Kalla had plans of his own.

So close now that their long blades were useless, he let go of the hilt of his weapon and it thudded to the sand. He dropped an elbow on her outstretched leg, trying to drive it into the kneecap before she could retract the leg. His other hand shot out, aiming to seize around the hilt of her sword and wrest it from her.

 

[Aeyliea]

She did not expect much, and was not disappointed. The blow had no effect on the larger warrior.

She easily writhed out of the way of the blow that would have broken her leg as surely as just having the entire man drop on her. She could do nothing about his grip on her wrist though. That crushing grip was undeniable, and she didn't even try to stop him. Her blade hit the ground about the same time her teeth bit into his arm.

 

[childish brandino]

Kishou's lip quivered with excitement. In the few moments it took for the dwarf to cover the distance between them, he amused himself with thought. How fitting it was that this young dwarf charged at him with a beautiful, blazing hammer. It was as if the hammer itself was representative of her spirit, which burned with an intense passion for victory.

Kishou's eye followed the blunt end of the hammer as it swung at his midsection. In a swift motion, Kishou's right hand grasped the hilt of his sword. He drew the ornate blade from it's scabbard, and slashed in a seamless motion. Simultaneously, he skipped backwards. The tip of his sword nicked the dwarf's shield. Had he been a moment slower in avoiding the blow, the victor would have been decided. Even through his garb, he felt the immense heat radiating from the hammer.

The slash he delivered served no other purpose other than reminding the dwarf of his presence. He composed himself, and straightened his posture. He raised his sword above his head, which he now gripped tightly in both hands. He stared the dwarf down and waited for her next move.

 

[Faravain]

Grozkalla’s brows shot up as she latched onto his arm like a rabid dog and bit down, hard. Skin broke, flesh tore, and blood poured forth around her chin and into her mouth.

The ogre grunted with pain, then balled up a fist and sent a punch toward her face.

 

[Aeyliea]

The blow was enough to grey the entire world out, and the mercenary captain fell limp in his grip, eyes distant but not closed. There should have been broken bone at that blow, but a last moment turn had caused him to simply hit her in the top of the head.

Semi-conscious, she was at his mercy for the moment.

 

[Infernal]

His actions were quick, and she guessed they would be quite deadly if she weren't careful. Carefully she kept her breathing in check, hammer raised behind her as her shield was kept in front. The people cheered at the exchange, wanting more and more, but Wendolyn knew better than to give in to wanton head strong feelings. She had already gauged his reaction time, and now knew what she had to do next.

"The God Forge is my Sanctum, it is the birthplace of all Creation. With its blessing, I will have victory!"

Thrice she struck her shield with her weapon, the people cheering on this display, believing it to be a taunt, when in truth, it was the next phase of her plan. When the third strike was accomplished, a similar Rune appeared over her shield, blazing with white light, before exploding in a show of fire, covering the surface in flames which seemed to elevate the temperature around her.

Again she charged, her shield now a fiery symbol of her dedication to battle, the crowd filled with excitement as this strange dwarf commanded powerful magics allowing her to augment her equipment. The fire was coming for Kishou, and this time she attacked in a low swing aimed for the warriors legs.

 

[TTamark]

The referee got on his knees ready to count Aeyliea out if she remained on the ground for more than ten counts.

 

[childish brandino]

He flinched, and squinted as the shield erupted. The sudden light somewhat impaired Kishou's vision, yet his stance did not falter.

The swordsman attempted to track the dwarf's movements, which appeared to him as a blur. He simply focused on the two sources of flame, one of which lashed out at his legs. Instinctively, he brought his sword down to meet the swing. His eyes followed the path of the blade. He felt the edge of his blade connect under the hammer's flaming tip, and he followed through with his swing. The strength of his two arms overpowered the dwarf's one, and he felt her arm give away. His eyes darted up, and he prepared to lunge with the tip of his sword.

However, his vision was overwhelmed by a swirling mass of flame. Kishou's downward swing left his body open.

 

[Infernal]

In the moment their weapons clashed, Wendolyn saw her chance and took it. With her heels dug in, she let go of the hammer, and with all her might, pressed forward while shouting.

"Flames of the Forge be free!"

In a split second, the white Rune on the shield would blaze brighter than ever before, and a torrent of fire sprang outwards to the swordsman. At such close range, there was only one conceivable outcome in the dwarf's mind.

 

[childish brandino]

A mighty flash. Instinctively, Kishou turned to his left.

That flash was what Kishou last remembered before being lifted off his feet. An intense, unbearable burning pierced Kishou's right side, just above his waist. The pain dug into his ribs. Kishou was sent about ten paces back. His sword was still tightly gripped in his right hand.

He landed on his back, and rolled once. The impact of the explosion on top of his back hitting the earth completely winded him. Kishou gasped for air, and attempted to posture himself upright on his knees. His blade stabbed into the earth, which supported his weight. His mouth was open, yet no sounds aside from frantic gasping escaped. His neck strained, and his lungs burned. Still attempting to regulate his breathing, Kishou desperately struggled to rise to his feet. He shifted his weight onto his right arm, which still gripped the sword.

The wound on his side stung. It felt as if his skin melted away, and the flame reached his bone. In truth, the wound was not so severe. Kishou simply never experienced a burning sensation like this. The pain was intensified as he attempted to rise. The swordsman almost rose to his feet, but with a pained groan, his eyes rolled back and he fell forward. His chest hit the dirt, and he did not rise again.

His sword, still lodged in the ground, stood proudly by his side.

 

[Arumi Shacen]

Arumi had caught wind of a call for fighters and immediately thrown himself in the lottery. There was no question in his mind - the midst of a fight was precisely where he belonged. It was where he had been for over a decade during his Master's war. He had yet seen little of this strange new land, or the beings who peopled it, instead keeping to himself and deciding whether to travel on or try to settle.

When agreeing to participate, he had not expected the fights to be so organized. So civilized. He ruffled his wings and exhaled through his nose when the referee finished his list of rules and suggestions. No killing, if possible? No interference? It occurred at that point to Arumi that this was not war, or for any real gain. It was strictly for entertainment.

The winged elf stood at apparent ease, weight light on his feet, as he observed the fights break out. There was restraint, caution, a lack of passion, and yet the amassed crowds screeched and roared in delight. Did they not realize this was all fake?

The announcer proclaimed Arumi's opponent, Szesh , and his mismatched eyes skimmed across the arena to the immense creature he was up against. It made sense - another flighted being - but the elf got the immediate sense this was not one who would hold back. He looked too.... feral. Arumi bent his knees slightly and half-spread his wings. He was undecided yet if the ground or sky would be best. Especially considering that irritating rule... No interference.

 

[Aeyliea]

Being dropped to the arena floor jarred the woman awake, into more consciousness than before. She blinked rapidly two or three times, then slowly got up, spitting blood from her mouth. She looked around uncomprehendingly for a moment...and then bent over, and vomited noisily. She nearly fell in the process.

After a few moments of staring at the blade laying in the sand at her feet (blessedly untouched by her vomit), she looked at her opponent. Opponent? Yes, she had been fighting the man a moment before. But why? What was the purpose of...

The sounds of others fighting finally managed to make themselves known. She looked around, head swimming dangerously as she did, and saw the other matches ongoing. And then looked back to her opponent rather blearily. "Y' bastard," she slurred at him. "Cowar'"

She stumbled forward, still rather dazed, and picked her weapon up.

 

[Faravain]

Grozkalla has thought the fight finished. He watched her stumbled toward him, sluggish and spent. He knew what came next and shook his head, causing his black braids to sway.

But one has to be realistic about these things.

The long dagger rasped from the sheath, a cruel length of tapering steel that glinted in the sun. The sweat-stained leather of the hilt felt familiar in his grip. How many had he sent back to the sands with this blade? Would one more matter?

He stepped forward, seeking to wrap one arm around her as if in an embrace, then drove his dagger toward her belly with enough force to pierce her maille rings.

 

[Smiling One]

There were several yards between them, Willis causally drew out his Cutlass and swung it in the air. The blade sung as it cut through the wind. His opponent is a woman around 5'7 she has messy blond hair, dark brown eyes that was focused directly at Willis and possessed a deep scar that ran past her lower right lip. Normally in an arena, men and women who have facial scars will always take the time to show their opponents their injuries. They think it's to show how tough and badass they are but in reality it displays their poor swordsmanship.

Willis smirked pointing his Cutlass towards the woman. It's been some time since he last fought in a colosseum last Willis fought was he was 19 years old. He managed to reach the semi-finals before being brutalized by some Orc Berserker. Willis spent about month recuperating after that beat down. Normally Willis would fight for coin, but there were some interesting items up for grabs. As a Monster Hunter, It'll make Willis' life a lot easier if he had one of them he has grown stronger since the last time he's been in the arena. He felt that he can win it.

"I don't like hurting a lady," Willis said grinning. "Especially a pretty one like you, I'll make sure to not to aim for the face."

 

[TTamark]

The ref counted seogsa out, and announced Wendolyn the winner of the match. The clerics and apothecaries already beginning what treatment they could as Seogsa was dragged away. A pair waiting at the edges for the next contestant to be counted out.

 

[Aeyliea]

She sidestepped the man clumsily, the ultimate result being that she stumbled and fell again. Dull, uncomprehending eyes regarded the warrior as she got back up to a sitting position, not the least but dignified.

She stared at him blankly, the glint if steel eliciting something in the depths or her eyes...but she made no further action in defense or in offense, blade back in the ground at her side.