Yaen
Swordmaster
Prince of Blades Mad Swordsman
Now let's play the Song of Swords.
Posts: 305
Sacae Fame: 2
Bern Fame: 3
Lycia Fame: 1
Profession: Vagabond
Affinity: Thunder
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Post by Yaen on Sept 10, 2012 14:08:18 GMT -6
Yaen chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the little scene before him. Mana seemed to be genuinely oblivious to what the man was trying to get across to her. It was cute. He shook his head and laughed into his sleeve as her arguement went on, and was still chuckling when she left. By the time he got to the front of the line, he was still smiling.
"Name." The man grunted, pulling out a fresh document.
"Yaen, of the Amasi tribe." Yaen responded. "I'm sorry, friend, I have no titles nor any I'd like to give myself. You'll have to give me one." he confessed.
"Fine, whatever." he growled irrately, making no efforts to hide his annoyance. "What's the deal with all those swords anyways? Two I get, but three? What, you hold one in your mouth?" he asked.
"No, of course not." Yaen replied, almost laughing at the absurdity of the remark. "Each one has it's own use. And actually, I have four." he revealed, patting his robe.
"Fine, whatever. Since you're such a sword nut, I'll just work with that." The man grumbled, jotting it down on the paper. He handed it to the Swordmaster and waved him off. "Next!"
Yaen nodded in thanks and stepped out of line. He looked down at his paper, and his amused smile only grew wider. "The Prince of Blades? How flattering."
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Post by Valcrist on Sept 10, 2012 15:37:20 GMT -6
Valcrist bit his tongue, he used to do it all the time when he was younger. For no reason either, just not paying attention to what he was doing, this time was no different, he couldn't pay attention. He was still a child in many ways, after all. "Hmm..." He watched the two walk away and his mind raced, he thought of many many things, some of which he was embarrassed to admit. He tried to walk back to his stand after Mana had drug him a good few feet away, settling nicely behind the counter.
"Maybe..." He wasn't talking to anyone, but the sound of his voice made him feel slightly less... well... Crazy maybe? Lonely? As if he was trying to convince himself of something, but can only mutter it. He bent down and reached for something underneath the stand's frame. "Maybe..." He repeated. The fact was, he wasn't going to miss this tournament. He would watch all the fights even if it drove him bankrupt, of course that didn't mean he couldn't make money in the mean time.
"Hey, I'm here." As if on cue, a voice piped up. It was a feminine but strong voice. Belonging to a woman clad in pink, but with a stern expression.
"Oh good, good. I'm happy to see you." What was it? Becky? Beth? It was Beth, most likely. "Are you sure you don't mind missing the tournament to run my stand?" He wanted to make sure, he'd rather close it up then deprive someone of fun.
"Oh yeah, don't sweat it. I don't like tournament, I mean the arena here's every day anyway. If I wanted my fill of people trying to murder each other, I'd come and watch any other day. Not that I'd want to, mind you." She laughed, it was apparent she didn't find this as fascinating as Valcrist.
"Good... good..." He muttered, touching something under the stand. She stared at him for a moment, cocking a brow.
"You should get going, get a good seat and all that." She smirked as she came around behind the stand, to man her station selling silly souvenirs. "If you hurry... you might still make registration."
Valcrist stared at her, knitting his brow and biting his lip. He wanted to say something, but couldn't. She simply laughed. "Take it easy out there, can't have my boss getting killed now."
"...Thank you." He grabbed the fabric and hurried away. She was right, he might still make it.
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Post by Richter Abend on Sept 10, 2012 16:48:49 GMT -6
It was Richter's turn to sign up after Clair. Muttering gratefully to himself over Clair's self-imposed reticence, he approached the desk. The disguised Ilian forced himself to adopt a more slouched stance, as opposed to his normal professional straightness, if just to add to the overall effect of his disguise.
"Name." came the same tired voice that had addressed Clair a few moments earlier. Richter paused for a brief second, then delivered the name he had decided on a few minutes earlier.
"Ardus," the fighter replied tersely. The registration agent looked up, and paused to give Richter a peculiar look. The commander, however, calmly weathered the gaze. For all intents and purposes, Ardus Abend the mercenary commander was dead, and he doubted anyone but Clair would make any connection between him and his brother. It was just a nice little tribute.
"You got a title, Ardus?" continued the agent, looking back down at his form. "Yeah, 'The Shadow Slayer'," replied Richter again, simply going through the motions. The desk agent gave him another look, as if mocking the clearly arrogant choice, then scribbled it down on the page. No doubt the man thought Ardus the "Shadow Slayer" was just another big headed mercenary too full of himself to realize he was about to get chopped to bits.
"Alright hotshot, get inside. Next!"
The desk agent handed Richter the sheet he had just finished scribbling out and waved the fighter through the door. The disguised commander let out a sigh, glad to be signed up and ready to go, and then began scanning heads. After a few glances, he recognized Clair, standing over a ways, and was about to head over before he recognized another face. She was talking to...Wyatt, was it?
Clair obviously didn't care for anonymity, but Richter would rather have as few people here recognize him as possible, friendly or no. The Ilian walked over to a corner, pulling his headband down a tad as he did, before noticing a couple other fighters conversing with each other. Attempting to blend in, Richter crossed his arms across his chest, leaned up against the wall, and pretended to join in on the conversation. If he was lucky, someone he didn't know would address him.
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Wyatt
Hero
The Volcano
How can someone win if winning means that someone loses?
Posts: 463
Etruria Fame: 2
Sacae Fame: -1
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Post by Wyatt on Sept 10, 2012 21:37:09 GMT -6
Wyatt turned when the women addressed him, but his attention was stolen back by Mana's raised voice. He struggled not to laugh a little bit at her relative inexperience dealing with people like that. Wow, she really was a country girl. When he saw he leaving the table, clearly frustrated, he waved her over. Then, he returned his mind to dealing with this blond lancer.
[red]"Made it east, you said?"[/red] He asked, confused for a moment. So he'd met her west from here...in Lycia? Her face didn't stick out, but he could swear he'd seen her before. [red]"I am sorry Ma'am but I...ah!"[/red] It hit him mid sentence. She was Richter's girl! Now what was her name? He had a feeling if he addressed her like that, she might drop him to the floor with more then a bloody lip this time.
[red]"That's right, I remember. Sorry I forgot your name. I am Wyatt, this is Mana."[/red] He said, introducing the plainswomen who had come up to join them. [red]"Don't let the spectacle bother you Mana. It's all for the sake of a good show. Something tells me you'll prove to em that you're the real deal."[/red]
He turned back to Clair again, taking a look around the area quickly. Nope, no Richter here. Hmm, he didn't know the pair that well, but something about that seemed odd. [red]"I assume Richter will be watching from the stands? Presuming he didn't get himself in trouble again?"[/red]
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Post by Valcrist on Sept 10, 2012 23:21:10 GMT -6
Was he doing this? Was he really doing this? He entered this town with a small thought of maybe doing this, but was convinced to kill that dream with the reality of it all. Still he somehow bought this costume, just in case he said. This was all Mana's fault, he would of never even bothered but her words were burrowing into his head and making him half crazy and now here he was looking like a fool in some bandit gettup waiting in line for the executioner. He had time to back out now, he didn't have to do this. He wanted to though, he wanted to try. Sure he may not be the best fighter in the world, and he was wholly resigned to the fact there's a good chance he will lose in the first round. Still, at least he would have tried. He could not just come all this way, for a once in the lifetime event and hide away because he was simply too afraid to give it a shot. Not trying is the exact same thing as losing, you can't win either way. "Next!" That was his cue, so cautiously the disguised blacksmith stepped forward.
"Oh wait, don't say a word." The man almost began to laugh. Valcrist's entire body was covered except for a small area where his eyes could see, and those very eyes were narrowed into a glare. "I can smell the brooding and angst from here." He had a document, smirking fiendishly. Tapping the ink pen at the edge of the table, blotting the wood slightly. "Hrm... I know. The Wandering Swordsman, a man who killed his own name. How's that?" Sounded... theatrical. Valcrist cocked a brow, and the man simply laughed. "I see at least five people like you a day. All covered up like a little sunlight will kill you. People like that usually use fake names anyways, and the crowds eat up the 'unknown'"
Valcrist nodded, it was a fair compromise. He didn't even need to say anything. "I take it your weapon is 'swords' you're almost as decked out as that Sacaen a few minutes ago. Anything else?" With a shake of the head the man shrugged and made a few notes and gave the paper to the masked man. So far so good, he didn't even know why he was being so nervous. No one recognized him, simply because no one knew him to begin with. He had nothing to fear. Even Yaen couldn't spook him at this point.
"Next!"
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Post by Tuatara 'Tut' Yamen on Sept 11, 2012 9:17:59 GMT -6
Tuatara looked around at the various fighters, gageing his chances. Well, I'm doomed, he thought, looking at a particular fighter in black. He turned around a saw Clair talking to some red haired dude. Clair! What is she doing here? And her clothes! A ha, obvioulsy she's on a secret mission! Why else would she join some dumb tournament when she has an army to take care of. Wait, does that mean Richter's here?! He looked around franticlly. I better find him, never know when things might go wrong.
Tuatara began running around, looking at the back of peoples heads. Hmmm..... no ones head looks familiar.... Oh well, to Clair! He rushed over to her, flamboyantly swishing his cape.
"I found you!" Tuatara said, pointing at her. He turned to the red haired guy and began shacking his hand. "I'm Tuatara Yamen, pleasure to meet you. I think. We'll see." He caught sight of Mana. "Ah, a plainswoman! It's been so long since I've seen someone from home!" He surried over and began to shake her hand vigorously. "Very nice to meet you. I'm Tuatara Yamen." He grinned. He hadn't had this much fun in ages.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Sept 11, 2012 18:38:43 GMT -6
Clair watched the red head's face move from confusion, to the hints of memory, to the realization that he did indeed know who the blond haired young woman was. A small smirk made its home on her face as she watched the ideas and memories linking within his mind.
She noticed a young Sacaen woman joining them, as Wyatt introduced himself and and Mana. The blond haired spearmaiden looked the girl up and down. Wyatt seemed impressed with her, from his tone of voice. She bore no telltale signs of battle though, other than her apparent fitness level. It was easy to tell that she trained often. Other than that, it was hard to tell much about her.
"Clair." She said quietly, by way of introduction. She deflected his query about Richter's whereabouts though. The man had been adamant about his identity, and she would respect that.
"And don't worry about Richter. He's safe...." She chuckled quietly before continuing. "As safe as he can be, anyway. I'm not sure the word has the same meaning for him as it does for the rest of us. Anyways, I'm happy to meet you in easier circumstances."
Bam! Without warning, the orange haired thief showed up, and started making a nuisance of himself. Clair's face switched from friendly greetings to annoyance at Tuatara's antics. He was so excitable and hyper that it was a wonder he didn't get himself knocked silly by several of the combatants. As it was, several cojtestants were giving him the same look that Clair was due to his dashing past them in his rush.
"What are you doing here?! Honestly! The first thing you do is enter a fighting tournament when you get out?!" She was bit incredulous, but she had told him to find another line of work.
"You keep making a scene, Tuatara, and you're going to be arrested. Again." She lowered her voice to something of a cross between a growl and a hiss in order to keep it from broadcasting outside the range of the little group here.
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Post by Kenshin on Sept 13, 2012 9:14:22 GMT -6
Yaen and Kenshin parted ways, it had seemed if the only grudge he held was with Alan with the only end to it was either one of their deaths. He didn't want to admit it but he may deny Yaen such wish, the two had a very shaky 'friendship' if one could call it one, the two haven't seen each other since Hargus' death. Once he made it to the stands he could see the doorway to the arena pits to his left, he was surprisingly able to find something close to the action due to one of his rare Bernese fans who admitted he wished to see the Crimson Demon in battle but sitting next to him was way cooler.
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Perrin
Monk
Err...I can't remember anything! *has a revelation* Oh, that's who I am..
Posts: 21
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Post by Perrin on Sept 14, 2012 14:13:30 GMT -6
Perrin noticed many people walking toward a large building in the distance and, because he did not know where else to go, he followed along. As the building became larger, the people were dispersing, and Perrin was left standing on the path. He spotted a man at the gates of the large building, handing out papers to the last few people in line. He walked towards the man, and greeted him.
"Name?" The man asked without greeting him.
"Err..Perrin," Perrin said.
The man became red in the face, and at first Perrin thought he did something wrong, but then the man scribbled something down something on a piece of paper, subsequently handing it to the confused monk.
"Welcome to the arena." The insolent man murmured.
"Arena? Wha-"
"Get in there quick," the man said, pushing Perrin into the hallway that led to the fighting area, "It's about to start!"
Perrin was uncertain of what to do, try and run past the man, who would most likely call guards, who would then throw him back in the arena, or just walk in. He chose the latter, deciding that it would be a waste of time to try to escape.
When he came in to the fighting area where all the other participants were, he was glad he had entered, as there were many other magic users there whom he could learn from. Perrin disappeared into the crowd, searching for another monk like himself.
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Post by Mana on Sept 14, 2012 20:31:05 GMT -6
"Clair and Richter...I think I heard that name somewhere..." [/b]The names flashed in her mind. Probably they were pretty famous, although she didn't really remember why. Mana decided not to pry further, she would eventually remember anyway. "Ah, maybe it just me..." she thought.
Mana never got a chance to respond to Clair because she was taken by Tuatara's spirited handshake. With a confused look in her face, she briefly gave the man a nod. "Mana...Mana of Hawkeye," she replied his quick introduction. Someone from home? Mana realized the meaning of those words. Was this man a Sacaen? He didn't look like one for her. "W-Well, nice to meet you too," she said. It was difficult to respond properly to this man due to his nature. Not to mention that some people started watching the group because of the noise he made.
Clair knew Tuatara but she didn't look pleased with his sudden appearance in this place. Mana wondered what happened between those two as Clair scolded the thief. It looked like friendly advices she was giving him, but the woman did look rather angry. While listening to their conversation, Mana glanced at Wyatt and asked, "A friend of yours? I said we would meet a lot here. Well, I am bit surprised myself." The girl chuckled after saying her joking remark.
"Anyway...Well met, Clair and Tuatara. I assume you two are going to fight in the arena too? I hope you won't get stage fright like me. It was really scary with many people looking at me, really." Mana tried to get their attention, and to divert Clair's attention from Tuatara as well. Just a little help from a fellow Sacaen.
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Post by Valcrist on Sept 14, 2012 20:42:27 GMT -6
Alright, he was in. There were a lot of people here too, and most of them looked like they could fight very well. Which was... disheartening. Not that he entered with the intention to win! It would be nice however... Maybe if he wanted it enough... He didn't want to get his hopes up but... would that really be so bad? Valcrist LIVES with his hopes in the mud everyday, happy at the smallest things. He's never disappointed but he also is never, well, happy. Only when the unexpected happens and grabs hold does he ever feel positive, the rest of the time he's in a sort of self-depreciative funk. That's alright though, it was his life and it was how he lead it. Still, perhaps.... Perhaps the Wandering Swordsman can be different. Would it be so bad to have confidence in his self, no matter how displaced? Even if he was a pompous buffoon he would never be pinned with it, the swordsman was different then Valcrist. He didn't have to worry about how everyone felt.
Hrm, he knew a few people here. There was Wyatt and Mana of course, there was a blond woman who Valcrist recognized but couldn't recall the name, and there was a black haired fellow that gave him a case of deja-vu. He had a sort of intimidating presence, and Valcrist could recognize the face itself, but couldn't quite pin it. Maybe he met him in a past life? Didn't matter, he didn't want to get involved in someone who could possibly recognize him. Yaen was off somewhere, he was sure he was here somewhere, Valcrist could feel it in his bones. So instead he went to some people he DIDN'T know.
There was a man with a thick beard who looked quite... well fragile perhaps. It was a bit weird, they must be a master fighter. Or an old man who wandered in accidentally. Either way would suck. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to fight him, that would suck if either of those were true. "Hey." Valcrist spoke up, his voice forcibly a few octaves deeper. Not that anyone here really... knew his voice. It would probably cause it to be sore as hell later too. Too late, he already started with it, can't change it now. He seemed to be muttering something. About sleeping. Oh geez.
"What is someone like you doing in a place like this?" Was that too rude, Valcrist thought it was rude. Stop it, you're being a wuss again Valcrist.
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Aurek
Soldier
I hate the undead just a little more than I hate the living.
Posts: 122
Profession: Santa
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Post by Aurek on Sept 14, 2012 21:28:53 GMT -6
Aurek broke out of his reverie at the sound of someone nearby speaking. His glazed eyes slowly focused and his swaying stopped as he looked for the speaker. It had been a deep voice and, as Aurek looked up from his seat, he saw the voice matched the covered man perfectly. Probably a born killer. Except... the man was not as overly-muscled as Aurek anticipated. That wasn't to say he looked weak, just that the voice sounded a bit off compared to the man it was coming from. Aurek hadn't been paying much attention anyway but he thought he heard the man asking why he was here.
"I'm here to fight, of course," Aurek said after a short pause. His voice was still shaky though after nearly having a mental breakdown. He had never been in a situation where his life was possibly on the line. He was used to doing whatever he wanted with little to no consequences in the long run. Now he had thrown himself into a terrible situation that did not look promising. And for what? Sleep? That was the last thing on his mind anymore. Staying alive was the focus.
He was actually thankful the man had shown up to interrupt the chanting. It hadn't helped anyway. It was probably too late, but Aurek realized the folly of his decision to join the fighting. After all, he had never been in actual combat and had zero experience with his lance. He couldn't even hold it while maintaining a proper stance. Plus, a forty some year old man had no reason to be here. The man at the table had been right.
Using his lance to pull himself up to get a good look at the man talking to him, Aurek pondered this new development. As much as he hated talking, he had become incredibly curious. This man had done a great service which he probably didn't even realize, and Aurek was truly thankful. Thankfulness was not a known quality to him. Even his mother, for all she had done, was not able to get past his apathy. But this man had approached Aurek when he was in a most dire situation and pulled him from an abyss. Aurek wanted to get as far away as possible from the mental attitude he had before so conversing with this person seemed in his best interest. This conclusion was reached before Aurek had finished standing.
"After all, everyone gathered here is one of the fighters today. So, what do you seek to gain from this whole thing?" He had calmed down by this point and figured the man was hiding, what with the masked face and all. Even if Aurek asked for a name, it would probably be fake. Plus, the fighters were likely to never meet again anyway. So he skipped the formalities. He tried to put on an air of confidence and stand nonchalantly but figured it would do no good. After all, the man had seen Aurek in an almost crazed state and Aurek's cloak still reeked of alcohol.
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Post by Valcrist on Sept 14, 2012 22:08:13 GMT -6
"Of course." The wandering swordsman chuckled, shaking his head. He didn't want anyone to get hurt who didn't realize what they were getting themselves into, but to say such a thing only made him sound condescending. This man was fully aware of what he was doing, he made this choice his self, and who was Valcrist to say it was a wrong one? Crossing his arms, Valcrist analyzed at the man with his appraising eyes, he thought he could smell just the faintest whiff of alcohol from this person. It was interesting, this fellow was interesting. He didn't appear to be here by accident, but at the same time he didn't appear to want to be here. Was he afraid? That was something the masked man could understand completely.
"I'm here to fight, of course." He responded, a cocky grin hiding underneath his mask. "I want to fight, and while I may not win, I have no plans in giving up." This was his original intention, and one he had held for a long time. Valcrist liked to fight, but he didn't like getting into them. It was an odd contradiction, brought on by many different things. This was one of the few times that you can simply forget about all those things, and just enjoy the fight itself. He wasn't looking for fame, he had even hidden his entire body from view and used a fake name, fame is the opposite of what he wanted. He may of had a somewhat warped view on all of this, but he didn't care.
"Some of the best fighters in the world are here today, many times better then I, but to be able to fight them is simply an honor." Argh... It kinda hurt to talk like this.
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Wyatt
Hero
The Volcano
How can someone win if winning means that someone loses?
Posts: 463
Etruria Fame: 2
Sacae Fame: -1
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Post by Wyatt on Sept 15, 2012 9:18:49 GMT -6
Wyatt was a bit surprised by the man's actions, and as soon as his hand was released he checked his waist. Moving in quick and acting friendly, he'd seen pick pockets act like this before. He took a quick glance at Mana, making sure he hadn't palmed anything of hers either.
[red]"Ah, right. Yeah, I met Clair and Richter just before I met you Mana. Maybe we'll sit down and talk about it after the tournament."[/red] He offered to Clair. He hadn't seen them in a while, and he was quite curious as to what got them into that mess, and where they'd gone after that.
When Mana mentioned stage fright, Wyatt clapped her on the back with a hearty laugh. [red]"Heh, it'll be ok, just focus on the guy in front of you and you'll be fine. But watch out for her."[/red] He said gesturing to Clair. [red]"Last time I fought her, I was on my back with a busted lip in less then five seconds, and she was unarmed.[/red]" A few people had heard that claim, and turned to look at Clair. Clearly sizing up their competition.
Wyatt would have continued, but a voice cut through the din of the gladiators talking.
[blue]"Attention warriors! The preliminary round will be beginning shortly! Please move to the outer ring!"[/blue]
The area they were guided towards was still in the structure, but on the ground floor and right outside of the combat ring. From here, they could watch through a chain and bar wall to observe the fights. Names would be called, and fighter's would take to the ring to prove themselves.
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Aurek
Soldier
I hate the undead just a little more than I hate the living.
Posts: 122
Profession: Santa
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Post by Aurek on Sept 15, 2012 13:00:47 GMT -6
When the fellow mentioned some of the best fighters in the land were here, Aurek began to lose his nerve again. And just after he had calmed down even! He quickly tried to change the topic. "So you are here for the honor of a good fight? He was a bit surprised that someone with such a look would be seeking honor but to each his own. "Very interesting. Personally, I'm..."
Aurek's explanation was cut short by a very loud voice. "Attention warriors! The preliminary round will be beginning shortly! Please move to the outer ring!"
A bit flustered and suddenly very nervous, Aurek was pushed along with a crowd he didn't even realize had surrounded him. "Perhaps we will meet again," he called out. "Assuming I live, of course," he muttered darkly. There was nothing else to do but focus on the fight ahead it seemed. Let's just get this over with. His normally grumpy attitude at all the talking around him was finally returning. His original plan of getting knocked unconscious had fled completely from his mind. Survival was the goal, and all these people were distracting him from that goal. The time had come for action over apathy.
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