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Post by Richter Abend on Sept 25, 2012 13:30:27 GMT -6
Come on, Clair, skewer the damn woman! She's barely moved an inch!
It was frustrating to see the pegasus knight ducking and dodging like some flighty swordsman, but the disguised Ilian understood how stifling magic could be to a close ranged fighter. The attacks not only struck right through one's armor, but they could appear from almost anywhere given the user possessed enough skill.
No, what really ate at Richter was hearing the crowd titter with delight every time Clair was struck by the Night Lily's magic. No doubt it was exciting to watch for them, but they could not understand how agitating it was for him, though he doubted they would care even if they did. And as confident as he was in Clair's victory, Richter couldn't stop the dark scowl from etching itself into his face as the lance wielder took another bite from the shamaness's dark magic. Clair's victory may not be a question of "if" to Richter, but sure as hell was becoming a question of "when".
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Sept 26, 2012 19:44:04 GMT -6
Clair waited in the cloud of dirt and debris which had kicked up throughout the battle. It wasn't much for shelter, but it was the best she could use while she caught her breath. Her skin tingled from the magic nearby and her muscles ached from the exertions of battle..., but she'd lived through worse. She'd outfought giants, and was just as capable of clever plans and tricks as any of the mageborn. Unfortunately, she wasn't equipped for anything more than spear fighting at the moment. She had a lance, but had left the sword back at her entrance. The thing had hardly been worthy of the name anyway. It was shoddy work, or she was nabatan.
Outside the cloud of dust, the silver haired Night Lily palmed a couple more of her namesake spells, and lobbed them outward, landing at the perimeter of the dust cloud. Again they kicked up more dust, but as the first settled, she and the audience could make out a shadowy image of a plant growing up. Its dark purple form was nothing but show; The spell was a basic flux, but she maintained her will over it, turning it into waving, reaching fronds of darkness. As such, Armani couldn't be happier that Clair had taken shelter in the dust cloud. It would afford her less of a chance to see the dangers outside.
[beige]"You can't stay there forever, Rising Lance! Eventually, I'll just start lobbing Night Lilies in at you!"[/beige]
Clair hadn't been idle while in the cloud. She was really hating this range game the Lily was playing with her by now, and had decided to take drastic measures. The Ilian wiped her brow with the back of her hand. She knew there would be a smudge of dirt there, and found herself using her annoyance at it as a vent for her frustration.
Dirt smudges aren't that bad. Just clean it off after the match. Still, she was irritated that she'd taken so long as to allow any of this nonsense game to start.
There it was! Armani's voice! The druidic shamaness hadn't moved from her spot, and so, Clair acted. She held her lance like a giant bat, and swung it towards her opponent horizontally. She hated disarming herself, but it seemed the most likely to pay off in this specific scenario.
Armani's eyes widened, and her voice caught in her throat as she saw something resembling a spinning blade soaring across the battlefield for her. She dove forward, landing in her own puff of sand as the lance flew over head, before ricocheting off the arena walls behind her. The spells she'd prepared disappeared as quickly as they'd come, her concentration momentarily shattered. She looked back for a moment, making sure the lance wasn't going to fall on her, before pushing herself up and turning forward again. The Falcoknight was practically on top of her!
Armani tried to whip out a spell, but there simply wasn't time for her. As the dark began to form, Clair reached her, and with her left hand reached out and took the book out of Night Lily's hand with something little more than plucking it from her grip. The Blond haired lancer flipped it over her shoulder as part of her next motion: Leaning in to deck Armani across the face. Clair's deceptively small fist struck like a hammer, laying Armani out on her back as the tome hit the ground behind her. The Falcoknight wasn't willing to cut off her advantage though. She leapt forward, and pinned Armani to the ground, bringing her fist down twice more on the shamaness'. She would have continued, but she realized something then.
Armani wasn't moving. She'd been knocked out cold. The match was over. Clair reached down to check her vitals, and found them still there to her relief. The woman would be wearing a bruise on her jaw unless she got it tended to though.
Clair stood and went to get her spear, only now stopping to notice that the roaring in her ears wasn't the pounding of her adrenaline. She looked up, and met the arena stare for stare as they roared. She picked up her spear, and lifted its point to the air above her, letting the people here have a moment. There were so many. It stunned her to think of where they might all be from. She didn't wait long though.
[Red]"The winner: The Rising Lance! Clair!"[/Red]
Lowering her weapon back to the ground, she spun the lance casually, landing it tucked under her arm, before striding purposefully towards the north gate.
[Red]"She advances to the next round."[/Red]
Clair was just relieved to get off the field at this point. Her right arm still had chills from some of the magic she'd been hit with earlier, and she really wanted to get that magic taint removed.... Not to mention all the filth that had kicked up around her.
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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 Oct 3, 2012 20:34:41 GMT -6
Wyatt had been on the edge of his seat, metaphorically speaking, since the fight began. Clair was incredible in there. The way she moved, the way she thought, it was like watching art come to life. Lance users always had some real style and skill, and he was kind of hoping to be able to see it in true form. Unfortunately, Clair had decided right then and there to disarm herself, as the lance came spinning out of the dust cloud. Wyatt shouted happily, that was a kind of move he would have pulled, and similarly to what he expected, it was just a ruse to breach her defenses. Lily's defenses dropped for a moment, a split second, but that was all Clair needed to close the distance. Once she got into melee, the fight was a complete miss match. Armored first versus a frail body was a clear choice every time.
And Clair rose from the dust and dirt, standing tall and showing off with her lance. Wyatt cheered in support, knowing full well how much those armored fists and feet hurt.
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Post by Rayl Torien on Oct 3, 2012 21:16:14 GMT -6
The last time he had been to a tournament, he'd been on business. Today was no exception.
Having traveled to Bern to speak with the Ilian officials stationed there, attending this tournament was an easy enough way to locate those he needed to find. Having found a good enough seat to scout the crowd for a certain official, Rayl glazed over most of the match, making a slight note of how the combatants fought, though caught the ending ruse. He'd probably have done the same before charging out of the dust, and a small smile crept to the corner of his mouth before fading away.
He was about to continue looking through those around him around him when he caught a look at the woman's face. Despite the dirt, she was awfully familiar, and the moment her name came up he gave a nice formal appla- oh who cares about appearances right now! Pushing himself to his feet he pumped a fist into the air and cheered along with the crowd, clapping audibly for a moment before adjusting the collar of his clothing. Though he had to wonder: What was she doing fighting in the Tournament? And where was Richter? He'd have to find him of course, so they could discuss the 'Kraft Situation'...
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 4, 2012 13:27:32 GMT -6
Richter could be found swinging his fists as Clair laid into Armani, aiming a couple of distracted strikes into the air in front of him. Finally taken down! That's how it was done.
The pegasus knight's maneuver had been exhilarating to see, neutralizing the dark magic user's outstanding magical advantage by distracting and interrupting her with her own thrown lance. The metal polearm had skimmed right over Armani's head, a bolt of silver against the dusty brown arena, and in the time it had taken the girl to fall to the ground in avoidance, Clair had closed the distance and finished the match.
And Richter realized he could now see his own fighting style showing its roots in Clair. It made sense, as her professional career had almost entirely taken place at his side, but the thought was nevertheless heartening to the rebel commander. Four years ago, Clair would have never made a risky move like that, and would have most likely lost the match. But now? Now Richter saw just how fearless a combatant she had become, and a sense of pride welled up within him. There was something exciting about watching her grow into her own skin.
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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 Oct 7, 2012 13:56:52 GMT -6
At last, the answer to magic problems was... chuck your lance at the opponent and hope it knocks the book away? That didn't seem like a very good plan to Aurek. Especially since he wanted to be alive after the fight was over. This Clair had been able to pull the move off with aplomb however. Fantastic! he threw his arms up in despair. I've still got nothing! He was quite thrilled that Clair was still the winner though. That meant Aurek had more time to learn from her. After all, he had been able to pick up on a few things that might become useful later. At the moment though, he was still trying to figure out how to beat magic users. And with no luck. Ah, well, maybe later. He clapped his hands in an almost lackadaisical manner, thoughts floating about. [Yellow]"Good show... well done."[/Yellow]
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