From: Genesis Dragon | Posted: 3/31/2005 9:43:47 PM
Warrick Gallios steps into the arena. In his usual brash manner, he makes a snide comment about his surroundings.
"BAH! You call this an arena? I've seen better locales in hobo tournaments!"
"You know, it might be a good idea to watch your mouth around here."
Warrick swings around. There stands Diego again, this time with a friend, Victor Cardenis. Warrick is so struck by their sudden appearance that he can't speak.
"Relax, War...it's not like you haven't been watched before," said Diego. "I'm here for the entertainment. I've been here before, you know...I hold these guys in high regard. And it's sure to be a spectacular fight. So, I'll get out of the way-" Diego and Victor start off "-and let you get to your fight. Enjoy."
Warrick watches them go, then turns back to his own thoughts.
So...Diego says these guys know their stuff...well, I know mine, too, and they're gonna have plenty on their hands! Watch out, world, because Warrick Gallios is ready to go!
He turns to the empty battlefield and screams out:
"All right, where are you? Show your face and let's get this party started!"
From: Dispeyr | Posted: 4/1/2005 8:43:11 PM
The sound began faintly, softly, a hint of a whisper wafting through the blackness beyond the arena walls. More sensation than noise, it scratched lightly around the edges of consciousness, an itching in the mind just beneath the level of true sound. Slowly, the sinister susurration swelled, what was once a whisper growing into a gurgling stream, a swift-flowing river, the wordless rage of torrential rapids. All around, the cacophony howled and snarled, a thousand thousand voices roaring from every side. Out of the darkness, the source appeared, faint silhouettes drawing near to the edges of the battleground. Wisps they were, writhing and formless, swirls of fog pulsing with the sickening greenish-white glow of decay. Here and there in the bilious vapors, faces emerged, all twisted and distorted, their jaws gaping wide in mad caricatures of wrath and fury. A storm of the damned churned about the arena, almost recognizable even through the hate that wracked their features, a maelstrom of those who had been sent into the realm of the dead by the one who now stood within the boundaries the spirits did not cross. Their loathing was palpable, the air hanging thick with malice, invisible images of agony seeming to form in it at the edges of vision only to disappear as swiftly as they had come as the deafening shrieks ebbed and flowed.
Abruptly, the barrage of noise ceased, cut off as though by the shutting of a window. All around, the revenants of the dead turned in unison, gazing off into the depthless shadows beyond, all their empty eyes locked on a single point somewhere in the velvet void. Sinuous, serpentine, the spectral audience flowed as one to what passed for their knees, the wisps of their arms stretched prostrate before them as the vaguest outline of a figure stepped from the tenebrous emptiness. A splotch of palest white marred that darkness so black it wrenched at the back of the eyes to gaze upon, a blotch of alabaster that resolved itself slowly into the features of a man, if man you could call it. It was all sharp edges and angles, from the point of its chin to the deep-set hollows pulsing with the phosphorescence of its pale green eyes. Above the man's brow, a spill of midnight swept back, tied in place with a simple leather thong. Below, a throat unmarked by any trace of vein or blemish vanished into the V-shaped collar of a plain black tunic, slightly less dark against the void. Matching breeches flowed from its hem, inky cloth poured down to end suddenly at a pair of unshod ivory feet. The tunic's darkness yielded to white halfway down the being's biceps as well, the lithe arms thus revealed nearly twin expanses of palest flesh. That on the left, however, was white only to the middle of its forearm; the greyish-black mottling of rot shaded that withered limb all the way to the tips of the gnarled, bony claws that were its fingers. No weapon girded this dead man, no armor sheathed his form, and yet no hesitation showed in the slow purpose of his stride.
Without breaking a step, the spectre eeled over the arena walls, dropping soundlessly to the spongy earth below with an eerie boneless grace. Striding to the opposite bank of the sluggish river from his opponent, the wraith Dispeyr folded his arms before his chest and regarded the man he was to face, a smirk twisting the corner of his bloodless lips. His voice was the breath of air through a mausoleum's gates.
"Finally a fight I don't need to leave home for. It's not often my opponents come to their future home so willingly." His smirk deepened as he spoke his next words. "Whenever you're ready, then. I've got nothing but time."
All around, the ghosts of the fallen rose whispering, staring at the coming struggle with an unblinking hunger.
From: Genesis Dragon | Posted: 4/1/2005 9:24:28 PM
Warrick was surprised at his opponent; he was surrounded by spirits, and his body had signs of being dead. He's...a ghost? A spectre? Something like that... thought Warrick. Well, I've faced worse. Let's get this party started!
Warrick stepped forward. "You sound confident. I suppose a spectre doesn't have to worry aobut dying very easily. But if you think I'm stayin' here for good, you've got less in your head than I thought."
A crackle of electricity sounded. Small bolts of electricity were visible around Warrick's body. He braced himself and let loose a bolt of electrical energy which spiraled towards the ghost warrior.
From: Dispeyr | Posted: 4/1/2005 10:20:32 PM
Words spilled forth from the lips of the spectre's foe, the usual foolish bravado of the living. It had always amazed the dead man how few of the breathing ever realized how precious and fragile their gift of life was, until it was pulsing out of their bodies to the faltering rhythm of their heart. Dispeyr paid the actual words no heed, his attention locked instead on the man who spoke them. Actions were the louder voice in a battle, a voice the dead man intended to keep to a soft murmur for his part. As the wraith stood motionless, the muscle beneath his skin tensed and relaxed in a steady pulse, limbering itself to explode into motion with a half-moment's reflex. Thought was only an obstacle to reaction, a layer of perception that needed not be present, and so the dead man's curled and coiled back into the depths of his mind, folding themselves silently into the very corners of his consciousness. They lurked there, whispering themselves around the emptiness that filled him, nothing more than ripples across the surface of the spectre's satori. One of those ripples hissed its recognition of the faint hum that began to emanate from the living man across the river as his customary speech wound to an end. It's to be lightning, is it...
Dispeyr's eyes narrowed slightly as his face went slack, his eyes unfocusing slightly as they dropped to his foe's midsection. Almost every motion the body made started there, and motion was best captured by eyes unhampered by detail, a trick that had long ago become instinct for the undead warrior. Behind the infinite depths of the wraith's eyes, the emptiness he had summoned into himself emptied still further, tendrils of the dead man's self coiling deep within to touch the essence of the void that formed the shell of his body. Darkness flooded him, overlaying his vision with a haze of grey, the little vestiges of his thoughts whirling atop the sea of blackness within his mind. All that was Dispeyr bobbed upon the ebon tide, and so there was not the slightest pause between sight and action as the electrical blast erupted from his enemy. In a rush, the shadowy un-energy exploded from the space behind the ghost's slack lips, catching hold of the darkness within the cavern of his mouth and stirring it to tangible life.
Vomiting forth from the revenant's gullet, a veritable hammer of solidified shadow whelmed down into the sludgy river at his feet with incredible force, sending the viscous fluid up in a roaring wave. Rushing for the opposite bank, the torrent of water engulfed the spiral of lightning, crackles of the power snapping and arcing within the violet-hued wall of wetness. Onward the maelstrom sped, its base crashing against the far bank where the spectre's opponent stood, sending a deluge of electrically-charged water screaming straight for the warrior that had so thoughtfully provided the power. As if the swollen tongue of some twisted toad, the hammer of blackness rolled back into Dispeyr's mouth, vanishing into naught but shadow. The spectre reached up and adjusted his jaw with one hand as he watched the results of his watery assault, calling out an only somewhat ancient jibe to his foe.
"Electricity? How shocking!"
I really need to watch the living for some new material more than once a century...
From: Genesis Dragon | Posted: 4/1/2005 11:14:58 PM
Warrick hadn't counted on this. The thing's dark energy had compelled the water, the water had taken on the electric charge, and now was coming towards him. Despite the urgency of the situation, Warrick took a quick moment to grimace at the awful play on words that had emanated from the spirit. Dear Jikas...that was just terrible.
Now Warrick looked towards the wave. The electricity wasn't a big problem - he could probably absorb most of it while taking little damage, though the amplification created by the conducting water would probably mean more harm - but he wasn't about to get hit with a massive wave of water that looked like it could raze a castle. That meant action, and he knew exactly how to play it.
"So...you use dark powers...well, two can play at that game."
Now it was Warrick's turn for a dark energy assault. In front of him, two dark lines appeared. They connected and formed an angle which split the oncoming wall of water in half. Warrick sent it forward towards his opponent, the arrowhead keeping the water away and attacking the ghost.
The arrowhead was perfect for keeping the water from harming Warrick, but it did little for the electricity, which jolted occasionally from one side of the running water to the next, with Warrick caught in between. He took a few jolts, slightly stronger than he had expected, but not enough to cause serious damage.
From: Dispeyr | Posted: 4/7/2005 8:07:31 PM
Sludgy, thick as syrup, the wave lurched forth from the violet river, reaching out to engulf Warrick as a tide of molasses half-frozen in wintry air. It seemed to the wraith that even the sparks crackling within the violet fluid danced in slow motion, more strobing than snapping. His teeth nearly ground together in frustration, clamping tight shut behind his words. Around the edges of the inner void he had allowed to shrink, irritation hissed and snarled. There's no way that'll reach him in time. Something's going to happen. Before the thoughts had even taken shape, the spectre's body had already made itself ready, his knees flexing into a low crouch, his shoulders curling forward to flatten his silhouette, his lips peeling back from his vaguely-pointed teeth in a silent growl. Over the rushing water, the declaration of the dead man's opponent bore his intentions to Dispeyr's ears - darkness to match the darkness, shadow against shadow. Hmph. A mortal trying to match a true scion of the void in its own realm?
A crash, a roar, a sharp-edged hiss, and the wave parted like so much wet tissue, punched in twain by shears of ebon power rushing forth with all the speed of darkness. The very sight shot chills through the wraith, a barrage of old memory assailing the walls of his battle-trance with images of a midnight blade, glowing with ominous un-radiance and keening a depthless hunger. A breath of an instant's hesitation shocked through his consciousness, his eyes lighting briefly with a remembered hateful fear, even as his legs threw him as flat as he could get. Impact drove him back into himself, the riverbank jarring the ghost's chest hard enough to drive what passed for his breath from his lungs, and inspiration sparked to life outside the satori that had moved him. Seizing the cold that flooded his limbs, Dispeyr lashed out, the chill sweeping forth from his core, screaming forth with his right fist as it struck the river's surface in front of his face. Flesh met fluid with an icy burst, a ripple of stagnance surging forth, snapping and cracking the water into ice in an eyeblink. Up through the whole of the wave sped the power, locking the whole of the river for some distance in the grasp of a tiny glacier. Where the dead man's fist struck the water's surface, the curved swell of the impact stood locked in time, an icy ramp that caught the leading edge of the dark power, and jarred it upwards. The wedge of shadow shot up from the collision, its lower edge snagging the spectre's left shoulder, carving a shallow trench through his flesh as it swept by overhead. Droplets of inky blackness burst from the gash, spattering the riverbank in stacatto accompaniment to the snarl that burst from the dead man's throat.
The snarl rose into a roar as Dispeyr coiled up to the balls of his feet in the wake of the darkness, an aura of forst crystallizing in the air about him as the rest of the chill power he held strained for release. Twisting his features into a feral, lupine grin, the wraith locked his baleful gaze on that of his foe as he clasped his hands before him, raising them over his head.
"A mortal with power over the shadow, I see. But have you ever felt the breath of the void? Allow me to show you!"
Dispeyr fairly shouted the last words as he snapped forward and down, driving his clasped fists into the ice at his feet, the raw cold gathered within him lashing out in a second wave at the instant of impact. Rocked with the blast of frigid power, the frozen wave that stood surrounding the living warrior shattered within itself, cracking like the fire of a machine gun, before exploding into a storm of chunks and shards as the tremor of the physical blow washed through it. A hellish hailstorm erupted from both sides, rushing to engulf Warrick in a chaotic spray of icy rocks and freezing razors. Dispeyr rose to his feet, heedless of the trickles of ichor dripping from his hands now as well as his shoulder. All that filled his senses was the foe his eyes stayed locked upon, and the approving roar of the spectral audience as they howled for the blood of a murderer.
From: Genesis Dragon | Posted: 4/7/2005 9:38:14 PM
The crackle of the coulombs darting back and forth between the divergent waves of water ceased when the water phased into fragile crystal ice, casting a ghastly pallor upon the field of battle. The ice had the effect of diverting Warrick's attack, but a blow was a blow, and Warrick was somewhat pleased at the connection.
The creature roared and seemed to lose stability. Warrick heard it shout, with a voice tinged with rage and...fear, perhaps? This struck Warrick as odd, but he had no time to be confused; the wraith wasn't done yet.
With a blaze of energy, it shattered the fragile peace of the ice into thousands of mortal prisms, sending a brilliant smattering of light through the pale world. Warrick jumped back as the icy cast spread, and began to move.
Nothing more than a slightly sharp hailstorm...and I know how to deal with hail...
Warrick created a ball of electrical energy in front of him. The energy from the electricity heated the air around it, melting some of the icy slugs in midair. It wasn't perfect, though; the area of protection was relatively small, and he had to crouch to make it more effective. He felt some icy shards whip across his arms and face, drawing some blood.
Not quite like hail...with hail, you're not the prime target.
The ice storm passed, and Warrick was pissed. He charged his energy and shot two blasts upward, one dark and one electrical in nature. The energy formed an orb in the air and sent a several deadly bolts of black lightning shooting towards the ghastly figure. "Let's see how you deal with THIS!" he shouted, a drop of blood flying on his face and staining a stray ice shard on the ground a deep crimson color.
From: Dispeyr | Posted: 4/8/2005 4:00:13 PM
The sharp tang of ozone filled what passed for air in the shadow-carved arena, searing into the lining of the spectre's nose as a nimbus of blue-white power whirled and gyrated before the still-breathing man he faced. Much of the avalanche flying for the mortal sizzled away into steam before touching him, but not quite all - faintly beneath the burnt cordite scent, the sweet copper of blood wafted to the dead man, blood drawn from a handful of gashes across the warrior's face and arms. With a fierce half-snarl, half grin etched across his hawkish features, Dispeyr couldn't help but call out to the man.
"Ah, lightly crisped on the outside, still red on the inside. Almost exactly how I like it. Something's still missing, though..."
He let his words trail off as Warrick, red-faced from more than the wounds on his cheeks, seemed to surge with power, the air about him wavering with the dance of positive and negative energies entwined. Streams of power, twinned and yet most assuredly distinct, erupted from him, screaming into the sky to combine in a swollen sphere of black-white power, commingled and yet not quite one. Dispeyr's left brow arched slightly at the sight, his distant thoughts muttering in the background of reaction. Interesting. Light and shadow in unison...it can't be perfect. From the whirling orb, a fork of ebon electricity exploded, screaming for the spectre standing silently below. Unbidden, images welled up from somewhere below his waking thoughts, strange sequences of letters and numbers in seemingly jumbled arrays, separated by parentheses, brackets, and slashes in some strange code at once utterly alien to the wraith, and yet they made perfect sense. Teeming hordes of them flashed through his mind's eye, all boiling down to a pair of simple statements: electrical arcs jumped from positive energy to negative, and to be rushing for the sinkhole of emptiness that was his undead form, that which was positive must be dominant. As he snatched within himself for his link to oblivion, Dispeyr smirked to himself.
Perhaps Nergal did more than just steal my arm when he died...
Darkness bloomed within the spectre, and Dispeyr funnelled the un-energy down both arms as he swung his palms towards the earth. A turn of the wrist brought them flying up above his head, twin columns of purest lightlessness bursting up from the earth beside him as they did, shooting high into the air above his head to flank him in a strange sort of Jacob's Ladder. To these higher, nearer pockets of negativity did the lightning fly, one bolt slamming into each pillar of shadow, arcs snapping back and forth between them as the power rushed for the ground. His eyes widening at his only somewhat lessened predicament, Dispeyr hurled himself into the air, curling into a ball as his feet left the ground to present as small a target as he possibly could. It was in vain. A thick arc of the mixed power coursed through him as it sprang from pole to pole, jerking his every muscle and tendon to splay him out flat and rigid as the corpse his true body had once been, the ozone scent in his lungs replaced with the reek of his own seared flesh and burnt hair. The arc passed, leaving him falling to the earth, and Dispeyr lashed out to catch himself with his left arm. The impact wrenched the gash in his shoulder open wide, nearly spilling him to his face ere he caught himself with his good hand, a thick glob of chill ink dropping to the soil beneath him. Growling, the dead man raised his left arm, the rotting limb sheathed in an aura of dimness, and slammed the talons tipping it into the dirt, just as the Jacob's Ladder deposited the attack that had just seared him into the soil.
With a wordless cry of fury, Dispeyr loosed what power he still held into the earth to meet his foe's, shadow seziing hold of shadow and shrieking forth through the darkness below the surface of the ground, diving deep to swoop beneath the riverbed ere rocketing up to the surface 'neath the feet of the one who had harmed the spirit. Blackness condensed to syrup there, and syrup hardened to ebon-hued steel, the shadows waking to solid life and bursting free of the earth's grasp to spill into the half-light amdist a spray of dirt and stone. In three places it broke the surface, three thick ropes of blackness forming a triangle about the living warrior, ropes that spun and lashed about in savage circles, their edges flattening out into blades. Like giant lawnmowers they were, whirling at breakneck speeds around their central axes, the first rising to the height of Warrick's knees to sweep in from the front, another screaming in from his rear for the small of his back, and the third whipping in from before him, intent on taking his head from his neck. Dispeyr idly mused on how it might be preferable for that one to get stuck halfway through instead, holding the man's dying form up as the others chopped him away from beneath. With a forced smile, he called out to the warrior.
"Oh yes, of course. The carving. How could I forget the carving?"
From: Corbow6 | Posted: 4/9/2005 8:09:11 PM
Ares rose from the murky water to greet the Wraith and Warrick. His deep red shield sizzled as the dead river cascaded down it. He flew to the middle of both of them and smiled gently at Warrick. It was fairly one sided, but Warrick had fought to the very end.
"I am sorry Warrick, but the Wraith will advance to the next round. Please do stick around for the post-round celebration though. Also, if you are in need of healing, please feel free to call on the sprites. Wraith you are also welcome to join the festivities. Although if you don't feel comfortable, you aren't obligated. I will keep in touch with you for details of the next round if you decide the latter."
With that he was off to the final match.
From: Dispeyr | Posted: 4/9/2005 8:49:38 PM
His right hand clasped firmly over the oozing gash in his shoulder, Dispeyr heard Ares' words with a wry half-smile twisting his lips. The wraith had nearly forgotten that this was a battle with rules and regulations, overseen by other forces. Flicking his gaze back to where his opponent had stood, the spectre chuckled low in his throat, his words addressed to empty air despite the flat stare transfixing Warrick.
"Festivities, I leave to the breathing, and healing as well. Darkness is more balm to me than any amount of laughter and revelry." Slowly, all expression left the dead man's face, his eyes gone distant. The last words that fell from his lips were scarcely more than a whisper. "In the shadow, there is silence."
A moment passed, and Dispeyr blinked, offering Warrick a nod that was almost a bow from the neck. Turning on the balls of his feet, the spectre ghosted quietly to the edge of the battleground, the tide of spirits lingering there hissing and muttering their displeasure that the living warrior would not be joining their ranks. heedless of their rumblings, Dispeyr sprang up into their midst without a pause, striding off into the shadowlands beyond. Almost as one, the wispy revenants filed after, the void gaping wide to swallow them all into nothingness. Silence fell curtain-thick behind the last of them.
From: Lady Murasaki | Posted: 4/9/2005 10:00:31 PM
Lady M hurried onto the arena as Ares made his judgement pronouncement speech. Halfway there, she heard the Wraith give his parting comments and she watched him fade away into the shadows.
Well, I guess he didn't want me to kiss him. She shivered.
Fine then.
She moved over to Warrick and said, "I'm sorry you didn't win this match, but I know you're talented and you have a great many duels to fight in the future." Lady M took Warrick's face in her hands and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. She had to kiss someone after a match, dammit!
She turned and pranced off giggling, relieved she didn't have to kiss a dead dude. Eww.
From: Genesis Dragon | Posted: 4/10/2005 2:31:59 PM
Warrick growled at the unfortunate news. "Dammit...I thought I might have done it..." He turned to the ghostly figure. "Well...I suppose congratulations is in order..." However, the creature gave him light recognition and left without further acknowledgment. Warrick stared after him. "All right...if that's the way you want it, I suppose it's kinda hard to argue with a ghost."
He was about to go when a lady accosted him. "I'm sorry you didn't win this match, but I know you're talented and you have a great many duels to fight in the future," she said brightly, then she grabbed him and kissed him on the lips. She then ran off, leaving Warrick completely stunned on the battlefield.
"I think she likes ya, mate," said a voice from the shadows.
War snapped out of suspended animation at that. "Get out here, Vic, it's creepy when you do that. Especially after I just fought a ghost."
"Wraith, War. Wraith."
Victor stepped out of the shadows, followed closely by Diego. "It was a nice shot, for sure, but you gotta admit, the undead aren't undead for nothing. Anyway, look what you got out of it! Hell, if I could get a girl to kiss me like that, I'd be sittin' pretty, let me tell ya!"
"It's not gonna happen, because you're an ass," countered Warrick bluntly.
"I've never denied it."
"All right, you two, that's more than enough," said Diego finally. "The guy said there's a celebration, and I'd think you'd be remiss in missing it, Warrick. After all, these guys really know how to have fun." He winked, then opened a Rift and left with Victor.
Warrick thought for a moment.
I guess at least I should have some fun before I go. He opened his own Rift and left for the celebration.
Juryrigged > Works > RPGs > Tourney's > VPT - Round 1: Genesis Dragon VS Dispeyr