Cargo Gauntlet

Stage12: Cargo Gauntlet

A~E Semis, Blazestar Cargo-plane, CI Carrier

Three stages, back to back. There just isn't any stopping them!

The match begins on the beds of two semi-trucks racing along an elevated freeway. They are connected by a mesh of chain between the beds, but you're more likely to get tangled in that mess than anything. A Blazestar cargo plane, specially fitted with winces, will fly above the trucks and lift the detachable beds into the awaiting hold.

The fight then moves into a close quarters enclosed match while the plane completes its turbulent flight. Keep in mind the plane has to ascend and descend near the ends of its cycle.

From there the plane will skillfully land on the deck of the Creation Industries Carrier. While the deck has been mostly cleared to allow for the landing, there are still a mess of large cargo crates to either side. The fight ends on the rough seas.

Terrain

General - Not one of the arenas are stable. The Trucks perhaps the least predictable, the plane up and down, and the Carrier only slightly rocky.

Weapons - A tool box for changing tires on the trucks, various ship type things on the ship.

Bonus Effects - The round has a maximum of 51 posts to complete between all matches. Transition between trucks and plane will be posts 14-21 and then transition between the plane to boat will be posts 30-36.

Due to the sensitivity of this no time paradoxes may occur, however multiple fights will be allowed. Just be very mindful of the limited space in the first two stages, and the fact that this will very rapidly speed up the transitions.

I've got the wind at my back

And my foot to the floor,

I ain't comin' back

To you no more.

Athan wasn't some crazy adrenaline junky like some people, so he had opted to sit shotgun to the driver of Mythos' semi. A rather portly fellow, John Everyman was fond of rocking out in his cab while driving, and currently Athan couldn't hear anything aside from the music and John's singing, but he was doing a good job of staring at the side view mirror to get a nice view of his teammates. Athan had stashed his greatsword in the back of the cab, but the same couldn't be said for his smaller sword or his armor. Both of those had been left behind, since Athan figured there was no need to be wearing heavy armor against a time composed of mostly unarmed fighters.

Not to mention that the only person present on the team that he actually recognized also happened to be the one who acted like a damn fool in the Foyer, practically knocking himself out in his fight against Vahn. Quite frankly, Athan was surprised that a team containing that man could have made it this far into the tournament. So his confidence was riding pretty high at that point.

So his attire was composed of a pretty standard white t-shirt, black pants, and a straw cowboy hat he had on loan from John.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to fight inside of the cab, but he figured that problem would settle itself once somebody else started things off.

Athan always had a habit of getting dragged into things, anyway.

A tune drifted out of the cab of the truck on the opposite side. It was turned up loud enough that the sound of the big trucks diesel engine and the whipping of the wind didn't drown it out. It seemed to chime along perfectly with the sound of the rolling wheels, bucking of the bed and clattering chain mesh as the large rigs thundered up the freeway.

Sitting down in the bed of the truck next to a tool box was a man with short dark gray hair and a face that obviously showed his discontent with the stage his team had been placed in. He'd read about how this was going to transition and he didn't like it. Damon was easy going, he didn't like things to get too complicated - nice, simple stages appealed to him. Hell, there wasn't even much around him that he could use to his advantage, and with the uneven surface it was going to be hard to fight close quarters. For the first time since the tournament started, Damon was feeling truly unarmed.

Of course, the psion did not intend to let that slow him down. He could afford to let it. After all, he'd heard quite a bit about Mythos and even if he hadn't met them in person he knew they were going to be a real threat to Lu Bu's advance. "Can't lose, not after we've come so far." Yeah, his team, speaking of which, they should have been around this rig somewhere. Damon kept his senses peeled for when they showed up, that, and when the opposition showed themselves as well.

Light, lithe, and about to be blown away like a feather in the wind, the white swordswoman stood atop the very truck cab itself, staring off dreamily into the distance. Her balance was held surprisingly well, though most of it was from the support of her leaning her staff, hooked under her left arm and held tightly in her left hand, against the exhaust pipe. Her white slipper-looking shoes were also designed for a ninja's lifestyle, meaning quiet steps and fancy anti-slip-grip. Long white sleeves and baggy gray pants fluttered furiously behind her, joined by a single lock of braided hair. The snow white, Chinese-looking Gi and gray sweatpants beneath flattened straight against her shapely figure, leaving her womanly curves up for very little imagination.

Her Katana was nowhere to be seen. After being read (since she still hadn't a clue what those crazy english characters meant) the description of the arena she had decided that the acrobatic maneuvers she would likely be fond of here would leave little room for a bulking sword at her side. Besides, the black obi wrapped around her waist and tied to a bow at her back still held its little companion.

All in all it was a beautiful scene. If only that gaggle of obnoxious music wasn't so loud. Two different, very western songs in competition on an endless highway? What poor taste.

That was a simply answered question.

While the two trucks rumbled along, things weren't all set yet, there was no rule that they couldn't stop and let people out and about or up to do whatever they liked- that wasn't a problem until the actual fighting started. As it was, while Lu Bu seemed somewhat tense, Mythos on the whole seemed almost... the opposite. Lucind was succumbing to her progressing exhaustion. Athan was quietly sitting in the cab. And just behind the cab, there was a hooded figure.

Perhaps "hoodied" was more appropriate. There was no live crowd, and not much way of making a dramatic entrance, had he felt so inclined. It suited him well. He just let the music play, and sat with his back leaned against the cab of the truck, legs sprawled out in front of him. He had the music at his back, he had scenery at umph-number of miles per hour rolling about, and he had the wind, ruffling the hood up over his head and tugging teasingly on little strands of brown, drawing them out just barely beyond the rim of the hood. It was a rather plain gray thing, tiny corporate logo and everything, sleeves bulging at their bottoms where two sets of thick armored gloves came out, fingers working with dexterity enough to make it obvious that he wore them a great deal. Somewhere along the line, he had acquired a single cigarette, sitting gently between his fingers, rolling between them carefully, when he was sure the wind wouldn't take it away, slowly turning his wrist over and watching it oh-so gradually burn away. He hadn't taken a single drag of the thing, which probably surprised Athan, at least, less than if he had. He just watched the smoke stretch into a tail and wisp away in the distance to nothing.

His attitude really didn't seem to suit the long sheathed sword he sat on any more than his outfit, nor the shorter one or knives on his belt. Mellow was the flavor for the day, it seemed. Right when you were supposed to be getting revved for the battle, Mythos took respite.

He wasn't going to complain when it ended anymore than he was gonna bother to hurry at this thing. These moments never lasted long enough.

Damon could 'feel' that all the players had gathered and absently glanced back over his shoulder.

They looked average...

From what Damon had been hearing of Mythos he was expecting something a lot different. 'Different' how he had no idea. Their common appearances were no grounds to underestimate what they were capable of, but it actually helped Damon feel a bit more at ease. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders and then stood up slowly to fully face the opposite truck bed.

His eyes moved back in forth in a silent game of eeny-meeny-miny-moe for a good two seconds before finally resting on the guy with the katar. A quick glance down towards his FIGHTER told Damon the man's name was "Brendyn Rogel" but didn't give any more detailed information. Damon shrugged his shoulders and pointed in Brendyn's direction to get his attention.

"Hey, how about we get started," the truck went over a hole and bounced, causing Damon to stumble a bit mid sentence, but he recovered quickly enough, "I'd rather not be here all day!"

I'm sick of your crap and your moaning whine

I'm leaving you for good come rain or shine

You can cry me a river, cry me a river of tears

Yeah you can cry all you like but it won't change my mind

I gotta get away get you outta my life...

"Hm."

Athan took off the hat he had on loan and placed it on top of John's head, giving him a nice little pat and causing the hat to fit squarely atop the guy's noggin'. Athan pulled open the door, causing a nice rush of wind to shoot into the cab and startling John from his singing for a brief moment before he realized what was going on. Of course, it was only natural that the fighters would end up going back to the trailers to do the fighting.

"Hey, Lu."

Yeah, somehow he expected a soft spoken (well, soft spoken for him) wake-up call to stir the Siren when not even John's slightly off-key singing could so much as shake her.

Athan reached down, put a hand on Lucind's shoulder, and, assuming she woke up, jerked his thumb up towards the roof of the cab, indicating that it was time to get things rolling.

Hanging halfway out of the door, Athan retrieved his sword and slung the hulking weapon and its harness over his shoulder, completing his ensemble for this little dance. From the passenger side, Athan climbed his way up to the top of the cab and, if Lucind followed, waited to help her up before rejoining the rest of Mythos.

"So..."

Athan looked more like a guy who had just gotten out of bed than someone who was ready to fight across land, air and sea. He yawned, stretched his arms and back, then scratched at his stomach.

"What's the plan this time?"

Brendyn smirked at Kael's question.

"Game? No, I'm deadly serious."

Brendyn stood at the edge of the net connecting the trucks and made eye contact with his challenger.

"Shall we begin?"

Brendyn took a couple of steps back from the edge, steeled himself as he waited for a relatively smooth stretch of road and then LEAPED out across the netting, getting most of the way across in a single bound. He landed with his feet and hands flexed and crawled like a spider the last few feet, coming up on their truck.

"I'm Brendyn Rogel. Whenever you're ready."

His speech was steady, matter-of-fact. As he spoke, he drew his punching dagger with his right hand and dropped into a fighting stance, left hand lowered to guard his midsection. He had made the first move last time. It was somebody else's turn.

Brendyn had his dagger hand up near his face, but he wasn't prepared to guard from out of attack range, regardless of whether he realized that the motion posed a threat or not. The attack connected and he couldn't help but close his eyes for a second at the sudden pressure. He instinctively backstepped, and was just opening his eyes again when he felt a sharp pain in his nose.

-crunch-

He took the jab to the face and his head rocked back. There was a small spray of blood from the impact. His eyes narrowed in anger and even as he was recovering, his dagger shot out at his opponent's face. He drew it back suddenly and instead twisted his body, complimenting the feint with a strong hook at Damon's torso. Knowing the man already had his hand down there to guard a body shot, he continued bringing his left foot forward with the twisting motion so that whether the punch connected or not, the left side of his body would slam into Damon, seeking to offbalance him and gain some momentum.

(AP: 2, BP: 15)

[1]

He's quick.

He didn't just mean that in the physical sense. The man had clearly sensed that there was more to his attack and had chosen to head it off rather than waiting for it, which showed the same sort of mental agility he prided himself on. He immediately began withdrawing his left, abandoning the entire maneuver after seeing evidence that Damon had caught on. His opponent then launched another shot at Brendyn's face, to the same spot he had connected with before. Brendyn had brought his right hand back after the feint, so he struck his palm inward and pushed his opponent's fist past the left side of his face, feeling it graze his cheek in the process.

Before the man could pull back for another swing, Brendyn spoke a few quick words that would sound like gibberish and then brought his left hand forward again, this time much higher than before, as he aimed a punch that was all speed and no power at Damon's right ear. If the attack hit, it would discharge the spell he had just cast.

Spell List Wrote:

Vertigo

2 Points

Contact Point: Hand on ear

The target's sense of balance is suddenly distorted for ten seconds. They will find that even flat surfaces feel as if they are shifting under their feet. Running will be difficult under the circumstances. People that are used to the effects of vertigo or constant movement (for example a sailor), or who simply possess a superior sense of balance, will be less affected by this spell, but will still find particularly acrobatic maneuvers to be impossible.

This was quite possibly the worst place one could find oneself without a sense of balance, and Brendyn hoped to capitalize on that. Of course, if his attack was dodged or blocked, or hit anywhere other than the ear specifically, the spell would be wasted, but Damon would never even be aware of what could have happened. He'd still have the element of surprise when it came to his magic.

(AP: 2, BP: 13)

[2]

There was a chicken.

It was crossing the road.

Why did it cross the road?

...

...

...

BECAUSE THE ******** TRUCK WAS COMING.

-SPLAT-

Suddenly, magic-shirt!

Damon's fist sunk into something, but it wasn't what he was expecting. The white cloth of the shirt he had thought he was punching through turned out to be a well made ruse. Damon had actually just socked a side full of armor that refused to move. "Guhh." However, he did not withdraw his hand, it remained in place as Brendyn stepped back with the powerful blow. The knuckles were bright red and a bit of the skin was torn from the top of them and bleeding, yet, Damon showed no expression of pain - just a confused look on his face as his eyes flicked up towards Brendyn.

The reason?

This tournament had been the hardest on his fists. His first opponent was made of a slab of metal, the second guy had sliced his hands up and had also worn armor, and Kain had pretty much burnt his hands and smashed them up. Pain was commonplace in his hands throughout the last several weeks, he'd grown used to it. It no longer even affected him. Thankfully he hadn't broken his knuckles, his fingers were stiff, but his hand was fine; pain was no issue, but unmoving fingers would have been.

So now what was Damon left to do? One thought crossed his mind. A silvery white light shone in his eyes as a translucent aura of psychic energy built up around his arm and fist. His mind was clear, his target in sight and his focus was set on what he aimed to do. By the sheer force of will Damon honed his energy together into his palm thrust his hand in Brendyn's direction.

The man's only indication of something happening being a 'whoom' of arm and a spear-like distortion aimed dead center for his chest. It was true Brendyn had armor, it was likely that even the spear-like psionic blast wouldn't do much to him, but that wasn't the point. He was standing at the edge of the truck bed on a surface that was uneven, much less stable. Anyone could figure out what would happen.

Whether or not Brendyn dodged, blocked was inconsequential, Damon would shift his focus after the attack to the toolbox at his side. There certainly had to be something in there he could use, a tire iron, a monkey-wrench, something. If he had the time to go for it would depend upon what happened in the next few seconds.

[4]

So it was time to start, was it? That's good. It didn't take long for Saya's eyes to become irritated while gazing out into the horizon, what with all the wind blasting in her face, so she had taken to shifting her weight sideways, leaning more on the exhaust pipe, and observing the goings on below. There were three of them. One already fighting Damon, to which the exhaust pipe made it rather difficult to see anyways; the other two together, both with weapons, though one particularly larger than the other. This 'other', though, was very intriguing, or at least what she could see of him through slightly watery eyes. Well, from here there was only one thing to do, and one thought to pass through her mind... Don't miss.

Pushing off with her staff for a pseudo-running start, Saya planted a foot dangerously upon the corner of the cab and leaped off between the trucks. From this height falling into the chain mesh below would be far less than comfortable; adrenaline was pumping. Like a bird to the storm she flew, if that bird was flightless and plummeting quickly to the ground..

Her relief was almost audible when one foot touched the ground on the opposing truck bed. A quick tuck and the rest of her body followed in a roll, clearing her of that oh-so-friendly edge. She was almost back on her feet when the truck lurched, the sound of a chicken's last cry echoing in the distance. Her foot slipped with the bump and sent her sprawling forward with the momentum she couldn't bring under control. Instinctively she tucked and rolled again, sending feet flying over head in a half-twist. At the end of the dizzy-looking fall she planted her feet upon the ground and, with hand and staff clawing, came to a skidding stop. The look on her face was of death relieved as she glanced back to see a foot dangling off the edge of the bed. If she hadn't jumped at an angle that would have been a very bad day. To make matters worse she was even facing the opponents, clearly able to see whatever mocking expressions they were making at her blunder. With reddened cheeks she picked herself up and stepped away from the edge.

"S-sa.." she said slightly shakily before clearing her throat, "Retsu faighto." ((bad engrish - "Let's fight."))

With that she took a wide side-stance, right foot square beneath her with knee bent and left leg stretched out in front. Both hands were on opposite ends of her 40" short-staff, shaped to look like a chinese dragon, holding it in front of her neck/chest at the same angle as her left leg.

As ready as she seemed, she wouldn't complain if they took their time. Her head was still flying.

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

As the energy released and the distortion shot out at him, he finished twisting and shot his left hand out, clasping his hand around the wrist of his opponent's outstretched arm before he could withdraw it.

-WHOOMPF-

Brendyn's left hand slapped dead onto Damon's wrist while he was twisting, prompting the only reaction Damon had time to do, turn his palm upright and grab ahold of the underside of Brendyn's forearm. Somewhere in the middle of that Damon's psi-spear made contact with Brendyn's right side and went about doing the damage it was meant to. Sorta. Damon didn't know whether or not it had hit - he was concerned with other matters at the time.

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

His body twisting even harder than he could have done on his own due to the impact. If Damon couldn't stop himself, or reacted too slowly, Brendyn would slingshot him out over the net by his arm before falling higher up into it himself due to being offbalanced and knocked back. He'd failed to anticipate just how much damage the spear would do, but he hadn't let it change his overall plan. It hurt, and it would restrict his movements a bit, but he could still fight.

Unfortunately, even though he was grounded, Damon wouldn't be able to stop the torque produced by Brendyn's spinning and the kinetic energy of his own psychic attack. Damon felt the world around him shift dramatically as he was slung to Brendyn's left, back heading towards the steel mesh. However, he was damn sure not going alone. Just as the assassin had gripped his wrist, Damon had gripped back and twisted Brendyn's left wrist counterclockwise yanking him along for the ride through the air!

There were no if's an's or but's, due to the instability of the arena they were standing on, both men were going to hit the chain mesh, physics be damned.

Damon would land in the chainmesh with a shallow thunk and rattling sound, but Brendyn, who would have been pulled forwards would end up landing face down with his only free hand grappled. All in all he was likely to be a little bit more disoriented than Damon would be. After all just landing on your back wasn't going to hurt you that much. It wasn't like he was being slammed.

If things had hopefully gone as Damon wanted them to, he'd have his opponent in the worst position possible. And being an opportunist he would take advantage of it. His right leg would lift up and come down heel first onto the back of Brendyn's neck, while his left foot was pulled way up and planted on top of Brendyn's right arm. What he expected to do with that he didn't know, it would be kind of hard to properly pin it in that position. Hell, it was better than just laying there like a retard.

[5]

[ The movement kinda confused me, so I basically played it by ear. >.< ]

"Well, then..."

He blinked uncertainly, following her little bow and the roll of her eyes, settling himself in as he figured out that there wasn't a whole lot of talking that could be done to forestall what was coming.

"...don't suppose you'd like to fight her or..."

His eyes snapped sharply to the forward end of the staff, before back to Seena's eyes as she charged, alertness spilling in quickly over the general lethargy he'd been displaying a moment before. He started to turn at the waist, pushing his left shoulder forward instead of flat-facing her, limiting the target of his chest. The right hand dropped the cigarette and quickly clasped the hilt of the sword, starting to turn the tip upward as the thrust came-

-clack!-

It wasn't the right sound for the contact to make at all. Obviously there was something metal and firm between the baggy folds of the hoodie and his collarbone. Still, the thrust threw his balance backward- and with the bouncing of the truck he wavered uncertainly where he should have immediately recovered in the second it took him to spread his stance, planting the right foot firmly behind himself, wide and stable spread of the feet.

Alright, fine then.

As soon as his stability returned the hilt of the sword would suddenly fall. Popping the tip up, he caught the middle of the scabbard as the sheathed blade rose, and thrust with his left hand while he twisted back and into his hip with his right, as if he was using a staff as well, aiming a swift-snap blow for the side of her forward knee. It didn't have the follow through to sweep her leg, but he was counting on the bounce of the truck to help him throw her balance, and just as importantly stall a follow up on her initial attack. If Kael could put her on the defensive momentarily where he had been a second before, he'd follow up with a spear-thrust of his own, leaning slightly forward and trusting his reach advantage to give him a bit of security while he put both arms into a thrust for her stomach with the blunt tip of the scabbard.

It seemed they were going to have a staff-fight of sorts.

[1/17]

[6]

[7]

[2/17]

((Yeah, I was going off the whole "team post" idea, where the number of the last person on your team to post is what you're proceeding.))

Almond eyes carefully sought out every bit of detail from this mysterious fighter, even as the wind threatened to cloud Saya's vision once more; left or right, that was her queue. Her instincts were preparing her for left, since bringing your opponent to the outside was the most logical choice, but she had come to find some strange fighters here and wasn't ready to commit right away.

Yet low and behold, left it was, his body twisting out of center. What he did next was the surprising part, and a split second later would tell her why. Instead of parrying, he simply took it; the sound of metal upon padded metal echoing in her ears. It was a glancing blow, but it told her everything she needed to know. His balance wavered, his sword dropped; her reaction was as swift and natural as breathing.

Even as her staff bounded off his chest, she was twisting it, flicking her wrist and slightly pumping her arm to bring it back over her head and around in a 360. Her wrist snapped flat, palm facing upwards, and brought the newly invigorated dragon tail whipping straight into the left side of his head.

This, of course, was 'round about the same time she happened to feel a sickening thud upon the side of her knee. Knowing there was a reason he elected to glance instead of parry, she had kept a keen eye on his weapon, but he was a bit more clever than she had initially given him credit for. Instead of attacking her side like most people would, he went for her balance. To this there was really only one thing she could do.

Flowing with the blow, she twisted her leg to the left as it gave way beneath her, placing the sword at the joint so it couldn't break anything. Then she quickly shot her left leg behind her to stop the fall. Though it wouldn't affect her attack much, aside from maybe placing the blow at the back of his head instead, her balance was terribly off in this position. If he managed to follow through with his jab she would be knocked clean off her feet. This wouldn't stop her from tucking her shoulder and rolling back on her knees, of course, but conditionals were in effect. Only time would tell.

Victory Through Sacrifice

Grace + 2 = 2

He's not stunned at all...

Brendyn had expected to get at least a second of chaos in which to carry out his attack before the psion reacted, but his descent had been too slow and the psion too fast. He saw Damon bringing his leg up and moved to defend himself, abandoning any thought of casting a spell. Brendyn had already been intending to land with his shins on Damon's thighs, so it was a simple matter to pull them a little higher and take the kick to the legs rather than the stomach. He gasped in pain, knowing that there was going to be serious bruising from the hit. As he had been bringing his legs up, he reached down with his free hand and doubled up his hold on Damon's arm, so that as he was jerked back upward by the kick in the knees and then tossed over the side, it was Damon, rather than Brendyn, that risked dislocation.

As he went off of the net, he gripped even more tightly, going white-knuckled as Damon's arm extended to its limit. Damon, being on his back, would likely have his elbow joint reversed or shoulder popped entirely free of the socket, depending on what part of the arm was hanging over the net and what part was still restrained by it, by the downward force Brendyn would apply. The fact that Damon released his hold on Brendyn's arm would be irrelevant with his own two-handed grasp on Damon, and if Damon's other hand couldn't handle the task of keeping him on the net, Brendyn would most likely catapult him over the edge as well. If that happened, he would keep his double-handed grip on Damon and use his one remaining Assassin spell for another Slow Fall, in order to drop them both as safely as possible to the ground well behind the trucks.

If, on the other hand, Damon could still hold onto the net, Brendyn would hang there, suspended, and begin speaking the invocation to a spell as he swung his feet back up toward the underside of the net.

(AP: 1, BP: 13)

[Team: 7, Personal: 6/17]

Damon figured he'd catch Brendyn with that kick, but was aggravated that once again the assassin had found a way to maneuver himself into a good spot. The man had excellent reaction time and reflexes, causing Damon to bring his own abilities into question for but a second in comparison. Nevertheless his right foot was planted against something and he was putting his full force behind the kick while holding his arm taunt as no to stupidly injure himself while trying to injure his opponent. When Brendyn double handed his grip on Damon's arm the arms were stale mated as Damon rolled over to his right.

That's right, Damon didn't remain on his back, he was used to ground fighting, but more so it was common sense to try and roll with a throw in this position than do it while still laying flat on his back. If Brendyn was going to land over the edge his weight would likely have caused Damon's arm to bend past it's limits. He couldn't have that.

And so here they were, Damon laying on his right side with his right hand free of Brendyn's wrist while his left hand/arm, now behind his back, anchored him to the chain mesh. Brendyn was only inches from the road and trying to clamber his way back up onto the mesh. There was no way a fighter would give up this kind of opportunity.

'Been fun, but this is where it ends.'

Damon would have thought that, it seemed fitting, but his mind was too focused on quickly building up psychic energy around his right hand. There were two ways he could go about this. The first would require more energy, it was essentially a psi-blast straight into Brendyn's body to send him flying off. But there were no guarantee's that he wouldn't be able to use that force to take Damon with him, nor that he would take the quick blast and cling. So Damon did the next best thing, in a similar fashion to how he had taken off Kain's jaw, Damon gathered the psychic energy around his wrist and released it in an opaque like spherical shockwave. Brendyn's hands would be violently forced from their positions on his wrist and his body would meet road within seconds.

Damon highly doubted that Brendyn could keep a grip with the force of the psychic energy pushing his hands away from under the fingers and palms. Or that he could right himself within the brief moment he was allotted after falling over the edge.

[7/17]

[8]

And just as Damon released the explosion Brendyn let go, swinging his body underneath the chain mesh. The psion's brow narrowed and he immediately reacted by doing exactly what Brendyn was expecting, rolling to his left while pulling with his left arm to increase the speed of his motion. About the time he was out of the way Brendyn's dagger punched up through the chainmesh.

Had Damon gotten away clean? It almost certainly seemed that way at first, but the long ache and wetness across his back said otherwise. The edge of the blade had managed to glide along his back just as he was getting himself out of the way. The psion did not let agitation dilute the energies of his mind, he remained focused and kept a cool head. Now on all fours Damon was staring down at the road through the chainmesh, and on the other side he saw Brendyn. The man was literally stuck to the underside of the mesh, hanging there like some kind of insect.

'This guy has a trick for everything!'

Realizing how bad this situation was going to get, Damon opted to make a quick retreat. He pushed up on his arms rapidly and managed to stand up half way, before clumsy jumping back up onto the bed of the truck. A great burning pain raced down his spine considering he would basically be landing directly on his fresh wound. Not letting it slow him down though, Damon turned to his right and immediately made his way over towards the tool box. He'd pop it open and dig through it, eventually pulling out a large tire iron.

If Brendyn was already managing to get back up onto the bed, he'd catch a glimpse of Damon now holding his new weapon and turning up to meet him face to face. The weapon would give him a reach beyond that of the punch dagger, and if he could add in his psychic abilities, it would become all the more threatening.

'This guy is gonna require all my wits.'

[8/17]

[9]

So close...

The flesh wound he had caused didn't interest him in the least. He had been trying to incapacitate, and he hadn't, so he wrapped his hand around both the dagger and the net as he withdrew it and used it as a point of contact so that he could use his other limbs to make a single crawling motion toward Damon, who was just pushing upward partway to his feet. As Damon began to leap, Brendyn's hand shot up through the netting, trying to grab him and keep him on the net. He was too slow by a little bit, his hand only brushing against Damon as he leapt. Frustrated, the assassin scurried along the underside of the net further and then right up the side of the truck bed itself, coming up into a standing position as Damon came away from the toolbox with the tire iron. He saw the weapon and grinned, although his mask hid the expression.

It's not the first time I've lacked the advantage in reach.

He had come up with a couple of feet between them, so it was going to require one of them to move forward to attack, unless Damon tried another telekinetic ranged maneuver. Brendyn crouched low, his dagger still in his right hand. His side was starting to go numb with the pain, and the stain on his shirt was spreading. Even though it was only an illusion, since the chain that was actually there wouldn't stain, it was an accurate depiction of the blood he was losing. The twisting and crawling had done it no favors.

We've gotta be halfway done... can I make it?

He wasn't sure. He wasn't feeling the effects of the blood loss yet, but he knew he didn't have long.

Without warning, Brendyn brought his left foot forward, shifting his weight to it. He was beginning to rush the distance between them!

(BP: 11, AP: 1)

[Personal: 8/17, Team: 9]

((So instead of skipping one, everyone decided to repeat one We are such a fun, number challenged group.. here, lemme fix things))

[12]

[3/17]

Armored, armed, clever, and with a good defense to offense perception. This was shaping up to be a fun fight.

Saya's balancing act had put her completely sideways and swaying, so when the scabbard came at her, aiming for her stomach, it would instead collide with the side of her lower ribs. Their close distance and his half-executed blow would save her from any cracked ribs, but boy if that bruise wasn't going to hurt in the morning... or now. It was also the heavy metal sword that broke the camel's back, sending Saya toppling backwards to the ground. Her training was extensive, however, and as an acrobatic style to begin with simple things like falls would not stop her in the least. So, with the momentum of the descent, she tucked her shoulder and hit the ground rolling; coming up on her knees at the end with no fall damage.

From such a quick recovery, she was expecting to see him charging in, but much to her surprise he was still standing where he was, likely taking another moment to recuperate. A lull, albeit brief; for he was correct in assuming she wasn't just going to sit there and wait. No, her side hurt, but not quite enough that she would let up the pressure just yet. The question was, where to attack next? At first glance his stance looked lazy, but it was surprisingly effective; after all, where could you strike against a large sword sitting dead center? Chops are blocked and thrusts are parried with the same simple movement. Ah, but there was a way.

Gripping the ground with her toes, Saya quickly launched herself from her kneeling position into a headlong dash; a swift, trained motion combined with the powerful legs of the swordswoman, as well as the fact that there really wasn't all that much distance to cover, would leave her coming in low and fast within a second, once again sacrificing all balance for the sake of keeping form. From there, once again assuming that the man didn't make a preemptive counter that would cause her to switch form, she would go for a power shot. Gripping the head of the dragon with her left hand and her right a short distance down, she heaved the staff diagonally upwards from her right side, almost like an iaido draw, and sent it driving hard into Kael's left side at about the same spot he had hit her. Left arm pulling and right arm pushing, the momentum of the quick dash, and nearly all her weight would make this attack very hard to ignore even with armor. It was reckless, and she still seemed to be favoring her right leg, but sometimes a bit of good 'ol fashioned elbow grease was needed to start a job right.

Victory through Blood

Victory through Sacrifice

Grace + 1 + 2 = 5

Damon was no fool, the simple parlor tricks of his opponent would not distract him from his main objective. Putting the assassin down. He took into account the fact that Brendyn had done made a motion with his hand and that something was heading towards him from the right side, but at the same time Brendyn was leaping to the left. His attention was squarely on Brendyn, even though he was aware of something else heading towards him.

Unlike what Brendyn was thinking, Damon never reacted to two attacks one at a time, he made one motion that accounted for both!

Following in suit to the best of his ability, Damon turned his body to the left while tucking down, his right foot sliding out to his side from that position. He would be directly facing Brendyn, head leveled so that the object he thought was there would pass over his head. But that wasn't all he was going to do, he hadn't turned his body in that way just to avoid an attack and keep an eye on his target, he was doing it so that he could attack as well.

TIRE IRON NO JUTSU!!

With the twisting motion of his body, Damon whipped his right arm hard in the direction of the side of Brendyn's head. The blunt end of the tire iron aimed for the area below his ear where the jawbone connected to the upper part of the skull. One landing from that and Brendyn's spellcasting days would be over. Needless to say it would likely hit if Brendyn had made his move with his punch dagger. With Damon facing this direction it was likely the blade would stab into his left breast or the area between the shoulder and the arm. Or perhaps somewhere on the arm. It would be an attack Damon could take, because it would be the end of Brendyn.

10/17

[13]

Plan C.

It was the first time he'd seen a reaction quite like that. Damon neither dodged away from the attack toward Brendyn, nor did he allow himself to become distracted by it. His attention was still on the real threat the entire time, so the assassin was left to assume that a counter would be coming if he completed his rush.

After springing to his right and assessing the situation at a glance, he still brought his right foot forward and pulled his right hand back, beginning the stab at Damon's shoulder. Of course, the movement was simply to draw out the tire iron, so as his weight fell onto his right foot, he pushed back off of it, leaning back and letting the improvised weapon flash in front of his face before continuing his attack. He was looking to make a quick strike before Damon could reverse the momentum of the weapon after committing to such a hard a swing, which meant that there was no time for a spell. Instead, he made a straight stab at the upper arm of the limb that had just swung at him. It would have crossed Damon's body after the attack, so it was both an easy target and a means to potentially disarm the psion.

He was enjoying this chess-match of a fight, and he was looking to finally take something of value off the board.

(BP: 11, AP: 0)

[Personal: 10/17, Team: 13

Next numbered fight post begins the transition to the plane]