Library

Stage10: Durem U

Library

Knowledge is power, power corrupts. Study hard, be evil.

The great library, the hub of the university itself, and at the center of the library, a statue of Lady Von Helson the II. The great ancestor of the renowned Von Helson sisters, and the founder of Durem University. It was she who and her descendants who donated most of the books and scrolls to the library and who set up scholarship and bursary programs for students who display exceptional academic excellence but are underprivileged. Some of Gaia's greatest minds have graduated from here.

Terrain

General - The Library is built in three levels and crowned by a cathedral ceiling. Staircases connecting each floor and carved banisters are in place to keep students and researchers from falling from these great heights. And of course, shelves line the walls endlessly, housing volume upon volume of written text. On the main floor, desks and chairs are spread out to create study stations. For this round, spectators have been allowed to watch from the third balcony. The fight is restricted to the first and second levels.

Weapons - Books, chairs, statues, filing cabinets, ladders and desk lamps

Bonus Effects - + 3 to INT

Hoh. Look at that.

Another devil entering the library? How charming.

From the top floor of the library, the relaxed figure of the devil Vansin lounged lazily over the side of the Gothic railway on the precipice that overlooked the main fighting area of the rented out archive.

"Roen, what a surprise to see you here." The dark man said, waving down at the man underneath him. To be sure, he was pleased to see the swordsman below him, readying himself for battle. The farther Roen got this year, the more Vansin could harness his prestige the next.

"I take it you're not here to spectate?" He asked, quite aware of the answer.

Mixed in with the spectators was a rather hard-to-hide figure. Athan Cole didn't blend well, but at least he didn't have his trademark sword with him this time around. That, along with the majority of his other belongings, were resting on the main floor of the library in a very loosely organized pile.

Athan was tired of getting suckerpunched to start off the round, and so he arrived early, set up camp so that his teammates would know where their sidelines would be, and he headed for the stands. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, but, as stated earlier, Athan was not easy to hide, nor was he ducking his head or squatting to fit in. He was, however, keeping the back of his head nice and concealed, just so somebody didn't run up and smash him in the spine, or start choking him, or pretend to be a butler and blindside his nigh-catatonic teammate.

He pushed his way through the crowd and took position at the railing, placing both of his hands square on the rail and leaning forward, looking over the edge to get a good look at the 'arena' two floors below him. Normally Athan wasn't extremely comfortable with heights, but as long as there was a railing or something similar to support him, he could handle it.

Was Athan planning on fighting? Sure, if the situation called for it, but until the rest of his team showed up he wasn't going to be hogging all the glory for himself. It was time to share the spotlight.

'Sides, it was nice to see from the spectator's point of view for once.

]=[

A masked man, bandanna and hoodie, the whole nine. Typical spectator in this crowd. "Just keep it down." he muttered. The blade stayed exactly where mentioned.

]=[

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The man was gone before a minute anyway.

]=[

Vansin smirked.

What could he say to that? The man was here to win. And in all honesty, Vansin hoped he would. All profit. All gain.

The fiend's eyes flicked to Roen's fingers. No ring...

How disappointing. Someone would have to be punished soon if she didn't deliver on her order. But for now, the monstrous man faded back into the crowd, ready to watch a fight in which he had more stock then Roen likely knew...

"They can't do this...

They simply...cannot...be serious!"

Half walking backwards, half turning around herself, half bumping into the tables - not to speak of the other fighters -, the Siren's expression sported despair and exasperation at their best: head craned back, she took in the wonderful sight this library gave her; the architecture, the wonderful furniture, the air of knowledge, deliberate expansion of one's mind, maybe also the not so compliant thoughts of pupils and students; and - the books. The books!

"This is...this must be..." She tried to make out the tournament's staff among the spectators. "This is a joke, right? You're going to set up a cage or something...or...protecting fences?"

Wait, let's take a closer look. Were there tears in Lucind's eyes?

One of the security guards had indeed heard her urging questions, walked over and informed her that, sadly, no, the library would be the fighting area as it was, including the second floor.

"But...but...the books." It was barely a whisper. "The books..."

Sorry ma'am, the guard said, I'm just here to make sure non of the bystanders gets hurt or enters the combat area. He scratched his ear, then begged her pardon when he got an order via his in ear device and had to leave.

Unblinking, Lucind's eyes followed the man, before resuming to wander along the shelves, filled with tomes and booklets which were so much more for her than bound, printed pages. "They can't do this."

On a side note, the woman's appaerance had worsened from fight to fight. Not because she had scored any injuries (aside from the nasty burn of the first round). Kael had been right with thinking of her as a ghost: her clothes looking as neat as always, her face even showing a hint of make-up, it was still obvious this woman had only gotten a fraction of her nomal amount of sleep ever since the tournament had started. Furthermore, her back wouldn't stop to complain about her curling up in an armchair rather than a bed in those rare moments she was able to doze off.

The others would hear her mumbling, see her shaking her head, when the Siren started inspecting the nearest shelves: Maybe they had replaced the original stock with fake books or copies of run-of-the-mill titles...!

She was...a book lover.

She owned Latent's most popular book café.

Together with a friend, she was soon going to run a store for extremely rare, partly magical books located on a ship.

Books had been there. Around her. All. Her. Life.

Trembling fingers ran along the various spines.

"I...have to protect them."

What did she say?

Athan visibly flinched upon hearing the word 'Devil' shouted so close to him. It brought back memories of a certain Heaven or Hell legend, and with those memories came a fleeting surge of emotion, and his grip on the railing became white knuckle, the polished wood creaking under the incredible strain. His eyes almost immediately flew to the 'arena', but he saw nothing.

No, not him. An actual devil. But Lucind is there.

Without Vahn's actual presence, though, Athan's mood returned to normal relatively quickly. His grip on the railing relaxed and he leaned back away from the edge, eventually surrendering his position to the rest of the crowd and fading back to the rear, where he'd start to make his way down to the main level. All the while he kept his head bowed forward and his hands shoved into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.

I wonder...where are the other two?

He shouldered past a security guard to gain access to the fighters-only section of the library, only barely avoiding getting tazed by flashing his FIGHTER.

And for that matter...where is he?

"Good evening,"

The main door into the library burst open, thrown inward with a groan of protest. The man outside it retracted his arm and strode inside, long steps punctuated by just the slightest hint of a limp each time he put weight onto his right. He let the door glide shut behind him again, clearing the wake of the large half's path just in time for it to move past him without any need to touch it again. Not even halfway into the room he stopped, just far enough to stand in clear sight of everyone gathered around the balconies and the lower floors, the perfect spot to make a show, or a speech.

He raised his voice once more out to the building as a whole.

"Ladies and Gentlemen."

Kael's feet spread shoulder width and he stood tall, resting a bandaged right hand atop the pommel of the sword buckled onto that side of his hip, turning his face upward and boldly giving the entire room one long, slow once over with a single deadly-red eye.

And that was the first thing anyone looking would notice- one eye. Or more specifically, the lack of the other. The entire left half of Kael's face was still bandaged over from the previous round, including over his left eye. Besides the pristine white bandages, the rest of his appearance was stark- long black coat settling behind him, black slacks, dark brown and black leather on his gauntlet and boots, unshining steel plates on them and the single plate beneath his coat, encompassing his upper torso, gorget encircling his throat. Beneath was the same red shirt that he'd received with his tuxedo in the opening ceremonies. Despite the formal clothing beneath the armor, belts, and two swords, he hadn't bothered to straighten his hair today. And yet, his face didn't match the boyish mop. Everything about his expression was serious, down to business as his eyes settled on the other team.

Nevermind that he was injured, he seemed to stare them down, looking for someone who'd come to stand across from him in the open area. As he continued, he'd raise his voice only enough to reach them this time.

"Let's not waste these people's time. I'm Kael, the captain of Mythos."

The thinly bandaged hand shifted as if the fingers wrapped up like a mitten and hidden in it wanted to tap out a rhythm on the hilt. His arm shifted just enough to edge his FIGHTER out from under the sleeve of his coat, but his feet stood put while he squared his shoulders off.

He wasn't rude, but short-cut and curt, he seemed at least to be agitated a bit by something.

"Do you wish to negotiate any terms before we begin?"

Athan finally made his presence known shortly after Kael had strode onto the scene. He didn't speak, he didn't really do anything to address his other two teammates, either. There was a quick glance to Brendyn, but no subtle gesture to indicate that he was happy to see the guy. The way he was constantly eyeing Kael, the way the guy fought, it rubbed Athan the wrong way.

He did the same for Lucind, looking towards the siren yet not doing a thing to try to ease her worry for the books' safety. While he was constantly suspicious of Brendyn's motives, Athan at least had a comfortable neutrality concerning Lucind. He didn't really know her all that well, and she had done wonders in distancing herself from the team, and Athan wasn't the type to go out and try to help someone emotionally.

And then there was Kael. Athan went right up behind him, lifting the hood of his sweatshirt off of his head with his left hand while his right went to Kael's shoulder before Cannon Fodder's captain could give a response. Both hands were wrapped in white athletic tape, though it stood out in much greater contrast on the black 'skin' of Athan's right hand.

"I was going to sit this one out..."

He kept on moving forward, stepping right past Kael and heading for the center of the library, stopping only to bend over and pick his swords up from the ground. He slung the harness of the smaller one over his back, looping it over his right shoulder and under his left arm, holstering the smaller weapon and holding the larger in his right hand. The size difference between the two was easily discernible, with nearly a foot and a half of length separating the two.

"But since it seems I'm the only one ready to fight, I'm gonna stand here and wait for one of you guys to step up. And if you don't do it quick, I'm gonna fight whoever I choose."

The line was drawn, and both Mythos and Cannon Fodder had been called out.

Sure, Kael had done the right thing in trying to establish some ground rules aside from those already in place by the tournament, but too much time had been wasted in waiting for everybody to show up.

"Ahh, the subtle approach as always, Athan."

Brendyn had fully intended to start things off, but he had also been waiting to see how Kael's call to the opposition would play out. He was not going to just rush headlong at the opposing team and let whoever tried to stop him become the challenger. That just wasn't his style. Observation, careful decision making, preparedness... THAT was his style.

He had to admit, though, that the situation was trying even the assassin's patience. He wouldn't give the big man too hard of a time for wanting to move things along as he was doing, given that Brendyn would probably have done the same if that were in his nature.

Brendyn turned his head slightly as Lucind spoke. She was in a disconcerting state, as far as Brendyn was concerned. Either he had terribly misread her, or something was happening during the tournament that was pushing her into behaving as she was. He was leaning toward the latter. Either way, it seemed in everyone's best interest to let her have her way.

"Mythos' fair maiden has the right of it. Will none answer her challenge?"

Roen's attitude, the way he moved, his expression, the way he checked on Lucind, positioned his sword - it was all lost upon her. Even most of his words.

Not because she wanted to be rude. And the gods knew she was anything but deaf. But - she was worried, still worried sick about the books. The precious, precious books. One of her enlarged ears filtered the reactions of the people standing right around her, when the Siren moved away from Athan towards one of the tables to lift a nice lamp standing right on it: she wanted to study its beautiful green glass shade to find out who the manufacturer was - the library section in her store could do with new lamps.

However, all the while, she wouldn't stop mumbling things about important items of knowledge, fragments of highest significance and legendary pieces of literature that needed to be saved from brutal cretins. But where should she start?! Especially once meta powers would be used!

Finally, she reacted to Roen accepting her challenge. The last thing still ringing in her mind was: "What do you say, kid." Without looking up, the Siren slowly started walking into the direction he was suggesting, answering him with a, "Okay gramps, let's do it."

By the way, since the woman still hadn't been able to find a logo or engraving or any sign revealing where the desk lamp had been produced, she simply took it with her, after absent-mindedly ripping of the restraining cable.

Then, the Siren stopped.

The Romance section was what Roen had picked.

She blinked.

No, she hadn't become aware of his corny choice - but of a few of the copies standing there: her lips started quivering, as did her hands clutching the lamp. Master pieces. Rare copies. She knew some of those, either from her last visit years ago or from online photos and articles.

"No...no, that's not right, they have to take them out of here...how could they...or are they extremely well made fakes.....facsimiles?" And while her mumbling just became more intense, the air in front of her chest, especially around her arms, became all blurry; the fabric of her coat was prest against her body and single strands of Lucind's dark hair started dancing when sound waves accumulated just at the aforementioned areas: a compacted baby storm that wasn't really one, evoked by her words alone. It made the lamp's glass vibrate painfully, the whole lamp eager to escape her tight grip.

Finally, Lucind swirled around to face Roen, panic in her eyes, exclaiming:

"We can't do this! The books...!"

In the very second she called out, the lamp's shade exploded and, caught, accelerated and directed by the bundled sound waves, a load of shards was catapulted at Roen, mainly towards the upper part of his body.

She blinked again, as if realizing what she had done.

"Ah...sorry. But...you see...these are valuable copies.

I'm sorry."

It had the be mentioned, however, that those sharp pieces of glass had been headed for Roen, and for him alone.

Still, he was met with confused, huge amber eyes.

"I really am."

[01/17]

Chameleon smirked, emerald eyes baring down upon the Devil and his Prey. She'd gotten the desired acknowledgment, and was thus content to turn and disappear into the crowd. The retreat was made swift and silent, sure to avoid eye contact with the other spectators. She kept her path true, never sparing even the slightest glance back, continuing on until she was once more graced with the freedom of open sky.

Where once stood a woman now flew a bird, headed for distant lands, steadfast through the clouds. Even still, the little creature held the smallest longing in her tiny heart, the minuscule hope that the child beyond the horizon would give her another excuse to visit the Devil at least once more.

Kael couldn't help but break the serious face- he cracked a smile and chuckled, standing his ground and pose as if nothing had changed. He couldn't have been surprised by Athan stepping right up to bat and rearing to go, but it was amusing. The second the big guy followed suit, took up the torch and came forward Lucind came to life and piped up too. Hell, even Brendyn seemed to want in on delivering the challenge to them... sort of. It was a strange little mishmash of angles on delivery from the rag tag group, but hell, they seemed like a team for once.

Complications or no, either they were moving in a good direction, or he'd started to do something right.

His eyes followed Roen as he circled around them- and maybe he didn't show it, but he was half suspicious that there would be yet another attempt to start with a sneak attack. Rather, it seemed more an answer than anything- straight forward and up to bat. Kael didn't know who their captain was, but it settled it well enough. Plain and simple, standard fair.

He tucked either hand into his pockets and turned away from the two, marching his way toward the stairs to the second floor. He figured they were gonna appreciate a bit of space down there soon.

Time Paradox Begin

Brendyn listened to the Frenchman's challenge. He shifted his Vision over, and immediately saw a problem:

Undead.

The thing's internal organs were clearly of the post-mortem variety. In his experience, assassinating undead was best left to those of the (shudder) Paladin variety. Then again, he wasn't here to kill, and this could serve as a significant test of his prowess. The man seemed to be waiting for some sort of response to his challenge, so Brendyn gave him one.

He wordlessly rushed at the man who was unsheathing his saber. Brendyn's cloak fluttered out behind him and to the sides, skimming along the desks intended for study and knocking over piles of books and papers. Brendyn's hands remained concealed within that cloak, and his left found its way to the handle of his dagger. As he got closer to his target he planted the sole of his shoe on the edge of the last desk separating them and launched himself over it, arcing through the air at Aden. There was still no sign of his hands, or his weapon, during his descent, and if the man did nothing to prevent the impending meteoric collision of bodies, Brendyn's blade would stab through the left side of his own cloak and into the vampire's abdomen.

[1/17]

So, the cloaked one took a step up to the challenge. Aden had been hoping for this one, for he felt that he wouldn't need to exert himself beyond his physical capacities. This Cloaked figure had dashed out before Adens blade could be fully drawn. It showed the vamp that there were some warriors still eager to get into these sorts of frays after all, and he admired The Cloaked one for it. By the time Aden gained a footing, Brendyn was beginning to reach the last desk in the row, not more than fifteen feet from where he stood. This man could move pretty damn fast for a human, if he was one at all. "He's good," said the Vamp, "But careless...".

Aden dashed forth just after Brendyn left the table. He ducked his head low, and quickly got in behind the now descending, cloaked being.

"Give me BLOOD!" Aden yelled, pivoting quickly on his right foot. His right arm followed with a punishing slice across the center of Brendyns back, and then immediately brought his metallic left arm around the same pathway, to clock the Cloaked one in the left side of his head with a destructive hook, before he even had a chance to react to much of anything, if not at least distracted by the possible gash in his back. It was Aden's full intention to destroy whatever stood in his way, object or being otherwise, and this one would be of no exception.

1/17

What, he wanted to hit her? With his fists?

A male fighter wanted to hit a female fighter during an official tournament combat??

The audience held its breath.

So, what happened? Lucind would be given the tiniest moment to prepare when she saw Roen approaching quickly, which resulted in her dropping, that is, lowering herself while rotating: she could still feel, no, rather hear his fist cutting the air right above her - but in that moment her spin would already be completed with her ending up in a crouched position, ready to assault both his upper thighs.

The thing was that, for the first time, Lucind saw the chance to introduce a feature of her staff which hadn't yet been displayed in offcial fights. During her spin, the fork shaped end dipped into its own shadow, covered itself in blackness for a split second, before it resurfaced in a new shape: a plain, straight, yet nicely sharpened shadow blade of about half a meter in length now replaced the prongs.

To do what she intended to do - cut deeply into the flesh of his left thigh and then, taking into account that his forward drive might not have stopped by then, probably piercing his right leg -, the staff was brought up in shoulder height during the rotation, one arm pulling it back to give the other hand the chance to lead the weapon close to the blade in a horizontal slash, almost long an extremely long knife.

In the progress of action, two simple question, accompanied by the same smirk, would reach his ears, clear and crisp, even though Lucind didn't raise her voice:

"How's your tail doing? Does it still hurt?"

[03/17]

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

Brendyn's cloak fluttered out behind him and to the sides, skimming along the desks intended for study and knocking over piles of books and papers.

No one would have noticed the disappearance of a single book in all the chaos.

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

Brendyn's hands remained concealed within that cloak

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

There was still no sign of his hands, or his weapon, during his descent

Brendyn had actually expected his opponent to free his blade a bit more quickly and make a stab at the descending figure, which he would have caught with the book he had palmed. As he was landing, the air pushed the hood of his cloak back, revealing his face to the spectators. Brendyn turned his head and caught sight of the vampire making a slash from behind. Unsurprisingly, the vampire had been very quick.

He's at least as fast as me.

The force of Brendyn's landing prevented him from doing much more than flexing his legs to absorb the impact. He allowed one leg to slide a bit, though, so that when he finished his landing he was turned partially to the side, with the blade coming in at an angle instead. He shifted his right hand, getting the book beneath his cloak into the path of the saber. He'd chosen a rather thick, heavily bound tome as his makeshift shield, so that when the slash hit, it only cut halfway through. It was a simple matter to duck the follow-up punch and then finish his turn to face his opponent.

"Oh, I will... provided you even bleed."

Brendyn allowed the book to drop from his hand. The vampire would probably need to remove it to even use the saber normally, since it would add significant weight to the end of the blade and off-balance it terribly. His right hand no longer encumbered, he reached up and unclasped his cloak, allowing it to fall from his shoulders as he moved at his opponent. Since the vampire had chosen to get behind him, it meant that his back was to the very desk Brendyn had leapt from. Brendyn pressed forward, tossing his blade from his left hand to his right before making a hook at his opponent's gut. If the man did nothing to prevent his forward motion, Brendyn would keep pressing forward until his left shoulder was up against Aden and driving him back, keeping his right drawn back just a bit so that he could continue to strike with his dagger from well inside the range at which a longer blade would become useless.

[2/17]

Athan hadn't expected his teammates to respond so quickly, but he wasn't disappointed in being passed over, in fact he was pleasantly surprised. For once, people had listened when Athan spoke up. Maybe there was hope for this team, after all.

Once Lucind had been called out, Athan practically scoffed and simply stepped away from the siren, backing up and taking up position shoulder to shoulder (or...shoulder to bicep) with Kael. Once he had harnessed his greatsword, his hands shifted back into the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, and he watched on in silent approval as Lucind, albeit unwittingly, threw the first punch. Or desk lamp.

Whatever.

He even said nothing as Brendyn rushed out to fight the vampire on the other team, though he was secretly hoping to have put the skinny guy in his place, considering how much time Aden had spent sizing Athan up the moment he made his declaration. With two fights under their belt, that left one person present on the other team.

Bella.

Athan practically stared holes through the girl while the other fights took place. Was he really going to have to fight the poor girl? Chivalry must have been dead on Cannon Fodder, not only did Roen go out of his way to challenge Lucind, but he left poor Bella to face the biggest guy in the room.

Oh well.

Athan kept on staring.

Hope I don't hurt her too bad.

His senses were heightened as well, this came as no surprised to Aden. He hadn't expected the book to become a shield, nor did he notice the thing get picked off of a shelf around here. Good for him. The sabre slammed into the book, and got caught halfway into its travels, and his punch was very well avoided after that. He noticed Brendyns cloak drop from his shoulders after, and saw him dash up as well. A sharp pain pierced the Vamps gut then, continued on by the pressing force of the warrior in front of him. He braced himself, and took the hit LIKE A MAN!!!! Err... however much he could have anyways, and the only reason why he did was because of the advantage he would gain from his opponents successful attack.

He felt his body slide back ever so slightly while he brought his left back into place. He saw Brendyns right arm draw back, and took the chance he needed.

"Got you...", he whispered through a shaky voice. The dagger in his gut had caused a bit more of a sharp pain to form than he had expected.

Aden brought his left arm under the right armpit of Brendyn, and after having simultaneous dropping his blade to the ground, his right would work under at the right side of Brendyns chest. "YEAARGH!!!", the vamp grumbled as he began to lift the warrior off of the ground. Aden had been very aware of the table that had been behind him, and used the object to his advantage by turning around at the peak of his lift.

"SLAM DUNK!", and out came a corny line, strained by his offensive movement. Aden would bring Brendyn down with a forceful plunge into the desk, and unless something had been done to avoid that, a terribly violent slam through the hard-wood desk would be inevitable.

2/17

The challenge was subtle, silent, and to anyone that wasn't watching it looked more like Athan was taunting the girl upstairs than beckoning her down to his level. His left hand came out from the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and he turned his palm skyward, extending both his index and middle fingers before pulling them back in towards his hand a couple of times.

The time for pleasantries had been wasted with idleness. The two teams had stood still not doing anything long enough, and now they were pressed for time.

Athan strode forward, all the while repositioning his hand back into the confines of his sweatshirt's pocket. Even though he was making his way through the library, a place riddled with desks and chairs, he never took his eyes off of Nox. He had to admit, he was impressed that she managed to hold her stare for so long.

Well, you've got guts, kid.

She had been challenged, and he was eager to see if she would accept or if, out of some stroke of luck, her knight in shining armor would arrive to answer the call instead.

Whoever came forth in the end wouldn't affect Athan's decision to throw his hat into the ring.

Let's see how far you can push 'em.

Déjà vu? Had Aden actually done his homework and watched Mythos' earlier fights, he would've seen that Brendyn could get himself out of that position without any significant harm, since much the same thing had happened in his fight against Ebris. Last time, he had been a little hesitant, never having used the spell in such a manner, but this time, he was fully confident of its power and its ability to stop even a violent body-slam. He spoke a single magical syllable.

Spell List Wrote:

Feather Fall

1 point

Cast during a fall with a single magical syllable, Brendyn floats to the ground and lands unharmed.

With the opposed force of Aden's downward swing acting against the spell, it wasn't quite a "float" as Feather Fall intended. He struck the table with a loud thud and winced in pain, but it wasn't enough to incapacitate him. He curled his legs up and then lashed out, kicking with both of them. The left was aimed at the vampire's chest, to push him back and give Brendyn room to stand. The right was aimed at the Aden's face to do the same, but also cause some damage. Provided he could give himself some breathing room, he would roll backwards off the table and grab the nearest chair after sheathing his dagger.

(BP: 15, AP: 1)

[3/17]

Her attack had been unsuccessful. Not entirely unexpected. But Nox did not stop to see. The key to any length of time with this guy, was going to have to be strike and evade. Or slash and dash as she liked to call it. And that was exactly what she would do. Even as Athan stepped forward, his hand hesitating on the harness of his sword, the Lanky Gypsy was still in motion. No pausing to see how he would respond. Not at all. She could see it well enough while she was still on the move.

In this she would let instinct be her guide. Knowing that he would indeed come back at her and hemmed in between study tables as she was, Nox let her superior agility be the saving grace. Using the momentum gained in that uninterrupted strike, Nox let the weight of the blade carry her shoulders slightly downward and around. While her left foot would move behind her right in a reverse pivot spinning her lithe body around fast enough so that the handle of her axe would be just barely slip out of reach of his grasp.

That pirouette like turn would then continue quite swiftly, the axe blade arching back upward as she spun to face the big man again. "I'll do my best to oblige you sir." She responded to his taunt, not with contempt, but respect even as the blade of her Lochaber came screaming down from it's high arch toward the juncture of Athan's neck and shoulder.

And she meant every word of it. In this, she would do her best, no matter what.

[2/17]

Athan managed to c**k half a smile before the girl basically spun out of his reach. He didn't waste much time, since his grip failed, he started forward, slowly at first, until she managed to finish her spin and face him again. She responded to his request, and he simply nodded his head.

For real, then.

Athan suddenly exploded forward, with quickness that people just assumed Athan didn't have. He was a big guy, sure, but he had more than enough muscle to move that big frame in quick bursts. It was stopping that was usually the problem, but he only needed a couple of steps.

He hunched his upper body forward, so that what was once his shoulder was now his back, and when the lochaber axe fell down upon him, the flat of the swords on Athan's back absorbed the sharpened edge of the axe, leaving only the bludgeoning force for Athan to worry about and, let's face it, unless Bella was much stronger than she looked, she was mere moments away from a head-on collision with the Cole train. In less than two steps, Athan had closed the distance and was on the attack.

But hey, if she was really strong, Athan would be eating floor and wearing the most surprised expression ever on his face.

His right hand balled up into a fist and struck forward, cobra quick in a hybrid straight/uppercut straight into Nox's gut. By the time Athan had stopped his charge, he was literally standing beside Nox with his fist buried halfway into her stomach, pressuring the air out of her lungs. He deliberately held back on the punch, if only so that he didn't send the poor girl flying across the library as a result of the impact.

He didn't attempt to capitalize on the situation, though. After the initial shock wore off he simply removed his fist and pivoted away from Nox, allowing her to catch her bearings, and her breath. Now Athan was still standing on Nox's left side, only about a foot and a half away, but he was at least facing her.

He rose his right hand and beckoned her forward once more.

"Again. Without the pole."

[2/17]

Obviously shocked and awed by Lucind's impressive vocals, Roen's hands shot up to protect his already damaged ears while Nigeralo clattered to the floor in negligence. He was simply unprepared for an attack such as that, and even as he did so, he would feel a force collide into him. Disoriented and stricken by vertigo, Roen curled forward as he fell towards the ground to protect himself from the impact as much as possible. Unfortunately, there was an equipment malfunction. The World Splitter was sheathed upon his back, and as soon as it's tip pressed against the floor, it would immediately snap towards the ground, effectively jerking him back with it by to the cord wrapped about his chest. Despite Lucind's desire to bash his head against the library floor, Roen's own weapon would ensure the impact much to his future disdain.

Dazed despite the effects of disorientation and vertigo slipping away, Roen did his very best to adjust to the situation. Spreading his legs beneath Lucind, Roen quickly wrapped them around her body, effectively placing her in his guard. From there, he had control over Lucind. She could not posture up due to his knees, nor could she get past his legs.

Now, he could have started wailing right then and there, but that was very uncharacteristic of him, nor would it be well conceived given his lack of coordination. No, Roen would keep his arms where they were - elbows in - and remain in the somewhat curled position he was in. Lucind wasn't going anywhere, and Roen would make sure she stayed where she was until he was ready to start again.

6/17

Brendyn didn't let his chair collide with the table in a wood-shattering swing. Instead, he jammed the legs against the narrow side of the table at the start of the swing and braced his arms against it. The vampire had used his vastly superior strength and comparable speed to pull off one of the few moves Brendyn hadn't anticipated, so he had to abandon his plan in favor of some damage mitigation. The table arced around, with Brendyn's chair still rammed up against it, which threw Brendyn back a ways but left him relatively unharmed as he caught his footing in time to bump up against another table behind him.

Brendyn pushed off of the table before the vampire could reverse the momentum of his massive makeshift weapon. He then performed a trick he had made gratuitous use of throughout the tournament thus far. Even if someone had seen it on film or as a spectator, they had no real way of understanding how hard it was to control the instinctive reaction it produced. With a simple flicking gesture, he invoked his one remaining Assassin school spell.

Spell List Wrote:

Combat Distraction

1 point

A very quick illusion, Brendyn makes a flicking motion and the target sees an illusory blade coming at them out of the corner of their eye. It disappears as soon as the target actually focuses on it, providing a short window of opportunity for Brendyn to take advantage.

The blade would appear to be coming at the left side of the vampire's head. At the same time, Brendyn, anticipating a slight reaction to the vampire's right as he tried to avoid the illusory threat, launched himself into the air feet first, aiming to get his legs on either side of the vampire's head and sit against his chest out of the flying leap to drive him back or even to the ground as he was off-balanced from both the table-swing and the ensuing distraction. If Brendyn succeeded in hooking him with his legs, and regardless of whether Aden toppled or not, Brendyn would quickly extend his hand up between his legs, aiming a palm strike at the vampire's nose before reaching for his sheathed dagger.

(BP: 15, AP: 0)

[4/17]

A grunt was issued as Lucind's staff bashed not into his neck, but rather the bottom of his forearms. The previous acts of putting his hands on his ears and putting his elbows in (much like a fetal position) had left Roen's neck well protected against her attack. It still hurt mildly to have the weapon hit the thick fabric of his greatcoat's sleeves and subsequent mail beneath.

The same defense could be used to counter her headbutt as well, but Roen had collected his wits about him by then - it was time for a counter attack.

Twisting his torso towards and lifting his left arm up, Roen caught the woman's forehead on his elbow as it came crashing down. His arm would snap straight on the impact however, and with his lean to the right, would move to wrap around Lucind's neck.

Once reaching around, the Devil would place his sword calloused palm on her chin and constrict his arm, effectively putting Lucind into a Gullotine Choke. With both flawless and merciless execution, the Devil would promptly lean back and begin pulling while using his right hand to lock the hold. This would both be excruciatingly painful, and serve to cut off both blood and air from Lucind's head.

However, Roen had been lax about the act of pulling her back with his legs and thus applying more pressure. There wasn't much of a reason as to why, save for the fact that she was a dame.

7/17

Fine, let's forget the belt for a moment - not that Lucind would've had the time to start playing with it with regard to Roen's intervention. This lock he went for was really mean...and not made for calming her down. At least not directly.

First of all, the choker she was wearing as part of her combat outfit, going high up her neck, made to protect this valuable body part from being squeezed or punched, would somewhat slow down the grips effect, but not prevent it.

In the moment his arm wrapped around her head, the Siren started flailing her arms, the right one bringing the staff on her right side, fork pointing at their feet, while her flattened left tried to stab his throat, before going on in an attempt to furiously scratch his eyes. This was all accompanied by more curses - at this point, there could be no doubt those foreign words were of such kind, packed with loath and hatred -, mixed with painful cries once Roen started pulling.

Her left hand let go and instead started scraping down his leg as if she was searching for whatever kind of chance to do...something. This movement, however, just ended in both her hands meeting behind her own thighs - a split second later, the eshaton made a clattering noise when it fell on the library's floor, rolling a few feet.

He would feel the tension of her muscles decreasing, her screams getting weaker. Yet her left hand was back on his face, not scratching, just brushing along, almost softly, making its way down his left cheek, then his neck until...

From her half-kneeling and highly intimidating position, Lucind used her remaining strength to push herself forward: her right arm shot around, revealing a black blade that was meant to be deeply imbedded in the area somewhere between Roen's neck and left shoulder.

Yes, the stab was done by almost blind estimate, but in her state, the Siren was willing to risk cutting her left hand which was supposed to mark the field of impact.

And yes, it was the same black blade, or short sword in its new form, Lucind had conjured before.

[07/17]

Brendyn seemed to have things planned out quite well. His movements were quick, with no real style of flash about them. They were well coordinated, and diverse whenever the situation didn't suit his original plans. This guy was smart, and knew what he was doing, and Aden liked that a lot.

Aden wasn't going to keep the table in his hands though, only because of its weight and hinderance on his movements. So, after he had swung it and sent Brendyn off, he'd of let go by the time the assassin had landed on his feet. His twisted stance didn't aid him though, and he righted himself quickly without taking his eyes off of his opponent. Aden was ready, watching every movement Brendyn made until of course, Jesus had to go ahead and make a second appearance. Well, at least thats what Aden saw flash at his left side. Jesus' face, in the form of a flashing blade.

"Whoa," he quickly uttered. "That was re- OHSHI-!!!". He let Brendyn out of his sights for a mere moment, and suddenly has Man-Crotch heading hor his face. Aden quickly braced for an impact, and attempted to catch the man by bringing his arms up in defense, maybe to try and hook the man by the arms. It worked! Ehh... sort of. Aden leaned forward stepped back once due to the momentum of the impact, and let instinct take over for his reflexes. What was that?

SLAM HIM!

And so he did. The Vamp POWERBOMBED Brendyn down into the ground without even regaining his full balance, and he dearly suffered for it. Aden's nose had ventured into the unknown upon impact, and ended up racing forward into Brendyns crotch (or Gooch). A very sharp, incredible pain shot through it immediately after though. Aden would then roll away to discover the cold gooey feeling of his dark blood under his nose. Unless of course something was done to prevent this, Aden would slowly get up with a bloodied nose, and Brendyn would no doubt be recovering from the double impact of a Powerbomb, as well as a Headbash to the balls. What was it with Cannon Fodder and the nuts?!

4/17

Roen Jaeger Wrote:

"Tap out," He said. A shadow fell over the adversaries.

Roen seemed to be holding every advantage over Lucind for the time being- his coat was providing admirable protection to him, and even when his balance and coordination had been shot he'd managed to keep things locked up nice and close where he could protect himself properly even so, and then used the siren's fury to his advantage. It was an impressive capitalization on a series of opportunities.

Unfortunately, Heaven or Hell was a competition for teams. Both had been hit hard in previous round and Cannon Fodder was a man down for it. Mythos was not.

Kael had disappeared to the second floor almost as soon as they began, limping, out of site, out of mind, and out of the way. And somewhere along the lines, as the tides had turned, Mythos' captain had hopped the rail and landed atop an adjacent bookshelf, jarring a few tomes loose, tumbling to the ground on either side. It was a little lower, a little less risky of breaking his legs, and by the time the lights got blocked quite a bit closer. Still sheathed, his bandaged hand clasped the hilt of his b*****d sword that stuck out over the isle while he put two fingers to something up his coat's cuff.

[STRIKER: Offensive]

He didn't waste a moment, because he was likely to need ever single second. As soon as the tiny beep went off on his wrist Kael pushed himself forward, raising the blade high.

Roen would see him coming a mile away, facing upward, but that was the ironiy, since there was next to nothing he could do about it. His entire body was tied up keeping the siren immobilized, and while she gave cover to his lower body he had tucked her head in and exposed himself from shoulders up. Sure, he probably could have sat up just a little, rolled or moved his head a few inches to one side or the other. But that wouldn't help. With his coat billowing out around him, Kael came down fast- people often underestimated gravity- and hard to their side with both hands clasped on the haft of his sheathed blade, raised up over his right shoulder.

And as his left foot touched the ground and his leg began to bend, trying to absorb the force, he leaned forward and swung hard, bringing four feet of powerful steel built for the battle field crashing down, lined up straight across the bridge of his nose, extending more than far enough to hit him still if he rolled away, and certainly if he rolled closer. It was simple, but Kael had wanted to make very sure he had no way out of this short of letting go of the siren and focusing completely on squirming out of the way.

Because if he didn't, the only thing between a weapon built to hack into bones and his head was a layer of leather covering, just enough to keep it from killing him as it collapsed his face and hammered his head into the flooring, not lethal, but plenty enough to put his lights out and ruin his day. Maybe his next several.

As Kael's right leg slammed down and started to take the weight as well, bending to keep from breaking, the force of it shot up through his side, agitating his already broken ribs. His eyes slammed shut before a wall of white hot pain, collapsing to one knee as he couldn't help but snarl through clenched teeth, putting everything into holding on tight and swinging hard as his sword struck whatever was unlucky enough to still be where he'd aimed, numbing his hands with the reverberations as it bounced back from the strike.

Damn.

A minor miscalculation was all that it had taken. Even as his feet left the ground and it had gone past the point of no-return, he saw how things were going to play out.

WHUD!

Brendyn was slammed against the ground. He let out a wordless shout of pain and arched his back reflexively. What had happened to his crotch had hurt, but the pain was the sort that would fade quickly and not hinder him any further after the initial wave of suffering passed. Being slammed into the ground, however, was a different kind of injury. He knew he wouldn't recover faster than the vampire, so the first thing he did was to unsheath his dagger and begin pushing himself gingerly to a sitting position. He didn't expect to make it to his feet before his opponent would try to press his advantage, but he would try anyway.

"Well played, Undead. I'd almost call us even now."

(BP: 15, AP: 0)

[5/17]

It took a lot to get Athan angry these days. On the bright side, though, Athan wasn't Ebris, so he wasn't going to be trying to break the poor girl in half for having the audacity to defend herself.

There wasn't a lot of recovery time from hurling a desk, so as Nox flipped through the air and readied her piece of furniture, Athan did as he had done before. He hunched forward, compacting his body and covering his face up with both hands as she launched the chair.

No amount of craftsmanship was safe from a charging Athan. What part of the chair didn't practically explode into a shower of splinters went spiraling off into a random direction as Athan breasted through the piece of furniture and lashed out with both hands, almost immediately upon clearance, grabbing for the clothing at either shoulder (and if there wasn't any clothing, then the shoulder itself). Splinters of wood were still sticking out of his arms, but there wasn't a lot of blood to join that of his cheek.

Once he secured a decent handle he'd take a step backwards with his right foot, pivot one hundred and eighty degrees, and literally hurl Nox the entire length of the library towards one of the more lavish bookshelves. Maybe he was hoping to bury her in books, or to just teach her a lesson for throwing a chair.

"You're WELCOME!"

Swear, some people thought that was his kryptonite or something.

[4/17]

With a Devil's legs wrapped around her body, Lucind wasn't going anywhere with his expressed permission. And by pushing down on her body with his legs and retaining his hold around her neck, Roen had stripped her of the proper leverage to go anywhere near his neck or face as she no longer possessed the leverage to move her arms in that fashion. Again, this was an excruciating pain. Roen had seen grown men tap out in half the time Lucind was in this hold, and without struggling with the sense of gusto she possessed. If Roen had a free arm and a hat to tip it with, he would have done so at this point in time. As for the Mythos Captain's assist, well..

The Devil certainly saw the man coming. Stuck on his back and staring up, the flicker of movement that blocked the lights and allowed shadow to descend on both he and Lucind was worthy of attention. Watching, Roen pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance. Personally, Roen didn't like offensive strikers. He saw their purpose of course, because he was far from an idealist, but it was his personal opinion that they should have been used for defensive pur--

His thoughts trailed away, and he couldn't help but smile at the irony. Well of course it was a defensive striker! It just wasn't for him! He could have chuckled if the rising sense of danger within didn't rob him of his humor. Roen watched a shift of the arms, the raise of the blade, and the pitch forward. This b*****d was going to get the drop on Roen, and literally at that. Adrenaline pumped viciously throughout his body, and suddenly everything seemed to slow down. Colors became ever more vibrant, shapes became distinct, and even his supernatural perceptions took flight unbidden. Yes, now Roen was aware of the Siren's plight. She was in pain, and her pain became his through his advanced form of empathy. That was his gift, and for a Devil, it suited him entirely.

But that was neither here nor there, and Roen was in some serious trouble. So what did he do? He threw his weight to the right and took Lucind with him and into a roll. He couldn't roll to the left due to the lock and the positioning of his arm, so the right was the place to be. Still..if it were possible, he would have preferred to roll towards Kael. No matter.

This was an awkward position to say the very least. Roen's legs were on both sides of the Siren's body, his forehead was pushing against the hardwood floor, and his a** was propped up in the air. As awkward as this was, the strain on Lucind's neck would intensify as Roen began pulling back. More pain, less suffocation. As for Kael's Striker..

The World Splitter slid with gravity- a very often underestimated factor -and its pommel hit the floor above Roen's head. What did this mean? It meant that The World Splitter's blade or intricate cross guards would be in the direct path of the descending sheathed sword. Simple, but frankly unexpected. Roen only wanted to avoid getting hit in the face, that's all. This was a lucky event inspired by an enormous sense of self-preservation. Kael's attack dropped, clanged against the cross guard, and even the distributed force against the flooring via pommel, Roen's head jerked into the floor painfully.

9/17

What th-

Athan just stared as Nox saved herself from hitting the far wall of the library with her whip. He stared even as the momentum he had given her was shifted to send her swinging around the statue of Lady Von Helson and right back towards Athan himself. He stared as she screamed, stuck her boots out, and came hurtling straight towards his gut.

Like a freakin' circus.

It was almost too beautiful to not take the hit as it came in, but Athan wasn't in this thing to train eager youngsters, even though that seemed to be what he was doing up until that very moment. At some point he needed to take the kid gloves off, and that time was now.

To Nox's credit, she managed to uproot Athan slightly, all four hundred and twenty some-odd pounds of him without his armor, nearly five hundred counting the equipment he was wearing was forced to take a step backwards as she slammed into his abdomen.

The victory, however, was short lived.

Two big hands clamped down on Nox's ankles, and Athan was now the proud new owner of a Gypsy adrenaline junkie. Acting like the girl was his own sword, he stepped forward and started a horizontal swinging motion, going for one full revolution before he felt he had built up enough momentum to swing the poor girl towards the library's floor. He at least had enough decency to slam her back-first, but the resulting groan and cracking from the hardwood floor of the library would be echoed on Nox's shoulder blades and the back of her head.

He wasn't done with that, either. Just after she had struck the ground, Athan lifted the girl up violently and tossed her about six feet straight up into the air and left her to her own devices to find her way back to the ground.

As for him, he just waited patiently, taking a few steps back from the estimated landing point. No sense in overdoing things. Getting carried away was something he could have done without for awhile.

[5/17]

Shifting his weight to the opposite side Lucind was attempting to vault him over, Roen had succeeded in remaining ontop of the petite woman. It was obvious the Siren had no proper ideas about mounts (bow-chicka-bow-wow) because it would have been far easier to buck her hips and flip him over. Regardless, Lucind still had the air and lung capacity to..sing? Whatever was happening, her form began to blur, and his already burning around wrapped about her neck was receiving resistance. Grunting and shifting his head towards the side, Roen released few guttural noises before murmuring to the top of the Siren's head. "I could get used to a position like this, my feisty opponent."

And then, the Devil did the unexpected - he released his hold around Lucind's neck and leaned away. He leaned up and quite literally sat ontop of her, his eyebrows furrowing while he idly pressed his right palm on her left shoulder. There was pressure under his butt that was lifting him up, or atleast trying to, and to say it was an odd little feeling would have been the grossest of understatements. Hell, even his right hand was met with some blurry existence.

Then it hit him. Her voice! There was something in her voice that was causing these strange happenings. It was her voice that caused the lamp to explode, that caused his vertigo and disorientation, and it was her voice that was causing this barrier of sorts. No wonder her lung capacity was as exceptional as it was, this was her art!

Neigh a moment into realization, Roen's supernatural perceptions flooded into the World Splitter on his back and Roen's body in turn would fill with the blade's immense strength. Ontop of his already extraordinary strength, Hræðilegr added it's fuel to his proverbial fire. And with that proverbial fire, the Devil shot his left hand forward to battle that barrier of her's. He was going to wrap his sword-calloused fingertips around her slender neck and silence her lovely voice.

10/17

Brendyn had all the time he needed to get to his feet after all, and even stretch some of the soreness out of his back. He wouldn't feel good in the morning, but he could certainly get through the rest of the fight as he was. He watched the vampire transform into something significantly less terrifying than a Frenchman.

Ohwait. More terrifying. Yeah, that one.

Brendyn did back off just a bit. He also did something entirely unexpected: he sheathed his katar. Dropping into a fighting stance, entirely unarmed, he waited for the outcome of the transformation.

In fact, after a few seconds he began to grin just a bit ferally. s**t just got real.

(BP: 15, AP: 0)

[6/17]

Well, what he called "singing" was, as described before, more of a breathless hiss - but it was enough to get up her defense. It even stopped altogether when his hand shot down to grab her neck; only her hands went down to slip to her belt, beneath his bum, an operation eased by the activated shield...could he think what he want, she didn't feel prone to share his lewd ideas.

Furthermore, his extra portion of strength definitely gave him the power to reach through the shield, but when he had done so, it would take him another good amount of force to deal with her choker instead of her bare neck: it was constructed to extend, but upon pressure the sides it consisted of interlocked to prevent just that - strangulation. Sure, also this fine piece of armor could hold out only so much, but unless Roen started standing on her neck, she would be safe for some time.

But even the most irrational anger would have to yield to physical needs. Means, she was getting tired now - it was as if Lucind could feel all the adrenaline wearing off. She frowned. Her left hand placed itself around his on her choker, maybe in a weak attempt to stop him from doing what he had in mind. Her head, though, lay still, her eyes closed.

The last thing she would do, or try to do, was opened by a shift in the shield: all the waves concentrated around her upper body, so Roen would feel no more resistance in sitting down on the woman, and at the same time it became way harder to hold on to her. Said shift was accompanied by her right hand resurfacing from under him, bringing along a wire of about three feet in length, which was directly covered by sound waves, too, and started lashing furiously.

Other use of sound waves Wrote:

b) Once Lucind has erected said shield, she can use it to catapulte light object, e.g. fling the wires hidden in her belt at her opponent which then has the force to severe blesh from bone...if not to cut off limbs completely

Brendyn got out of the strike zone of the large, metallic slap, and exchanged it for a much more dangerous situation by coming inside the large arms swing radius. Aden didn't hesitate at all to let the arm keep swinging, and even clasped the talons on the left arm to increase inside tension. Why would he do that? Simple.

The assassin had just pushed himself in range of quite possibly the biggest squeeze he would receive throughout this match, and Aden wanted to remind him that this thing was nothing to mess with, as if its appearance hadn't already given off that vibe. Aden would clasp the entire arm around Brendyn, entrapping him into a crushing full body restraint with that single arm of his. He felt the grasp of Brendyns right arm at the same time, which signaled to him that he probably wanted to attack without anything getting in his way. So much for that plan eh? The full restraint would undoubtedly hamper any sort attack he had to offer from the waist up.

"Welcome to HELL, my friend..."

Aden whispered, as he really began to put the pressure around the assassins body. He planned on KO'ing Brendyn with this makeshift submission hold, and taking the fight without anymore bloodshed on either fighters part. However, when the pressure was put on, a shooting pain in his gut began to annoy him once more. The shot from the beginning had come abck to haunt him, and its low trickle of blood had started to flow once again. His own tactic was to work against him in this case, slowly, but surely.

7/17

What's the difference between a gorget and a choker?

Hot droplets of blood splashed across Lucind's face as her wire cut across Roen's jawline, but that only furthered his aggression in this bout. He grimaced and moved his face away and released his hold around the Siren's neck. It simply cost too much energy to try breaking that choker while also contesting her formidable barrier. So, Roen changed his tactics. Both of his hands lifted from their respective positions to grab, strangely enough, at the leather wrapped hilt of the World Splitter.

Whatever subsequent slashes came from Lucind's wire would strike along Roen's well protected arm as he leaned back on his haunches and unsheathed his blade, the pommel coming down to bash Lucind between the eyes, though likely to hit anywhere across the face given his rush to do so. This strike, along with the subsequent next until she either received a concussion or gave up, would be fueled by the World Splitter's innate strength. Roen let the edge rest upon the junction between his shoulder and neck to appropriately use such long sword in such a fashion.

And the blood. How the blood dripped from his jaw and splashed.

11/17

Aden began to feel his strength drain from his body at a steady rate. It was as if a leech had connected itself to his body, and began sucking the very energy from him. Aden didn't catch on to what Brendyn was doing still, blaming his wound for the sudden fail in strength. Aden would just go ahead with what he planned, tightening his grip even with the drain on his strength. Aden wanted his right arm back as well, and he thought it was time to use the deadliest of weapons in his arsenal. His teeth...

"AAAAAAAHHHH!"

The vampire would open wide, glaring his sharp teeth before CHOMPING down onto the left side of Brendyns collarbone. It was the perfect target, within inches of the sharp mouth of daggers he had. And if/when they shred into his skin, and clamped around the collarbone, Aden would bite down with all of his might and strength, to try and crack away or even shatter the bone itself. If that happened, then not only would Brendyns grip on Adens right arm loosen, but he would it extremely painful to move anything on his upper left side. It was time to get a good taste of this guy, literally.

8/17

By now, Aden had pickd up that his wound in teh gut was not the cause of this ever darkening, weakening sensation that was beginning to overcome his senses. His strength finally began to dim, and after a second knock to his nose, though virtually numbed by the pain before, they would stay like that unless he were to just get Brendyn away from him. The bite wouldn't continue on, as it became hard to see with the darkness slowly setting in on him. He had but one chance left, he felt, to free himself from Brendyns spell at this point, and he planned on doing so with the last bit of strength he held within.

He had only hoped that the assassin was weakened enough himself from the crushing hold, to give The Vamp enough time to pull this thing off properly. Aden would loosen his grip on the assassin, reel his entire upper body weight to his right, Raise his left hand upwards with all of his might while extending those deadly talons of his, and bring them down with the dead weight of a 50lb morphed steel gauntlet. What exactly was Aden planning in this final hulk of movement?

Well, he had at the beginning of this tournament, strived to bring back with him the objcet, or at least the story of taking some mans arm in this tournament. He wanted to say that he could indeed do such a thing successfully, and that he would do so, or else he would lose his most cherished horse. He really loved that horse too, and really hoped he didn't have to give that up to his elder peers. Not only did he hope to take home the story of an arm, but he had also hoped that the damned tight grip of his would end, since it either meant the loss of his arm, or at least him letting go of it.

[9/17]

"Wha-"

Adens flickering eyes couldn't believe that Brendyn had retreated from his position so early. The Chevalier noticed him stumble away, rather than run, which showed the clear damage he had created with that Big Squeeze he put on earlier. Aden assumed he was going to regain strength in the next two or three seconds, so he attempted to get back into stance. He lifted his right leg, and stumbled like a drunk in the same direction. He fell to a knee, and things began to fade in and out.

"What the hell did he do to me?! I can't walk! I can't even stand!"

This all greatly confused the vampire, because he couldn't understand why the weakness lingered within him. Did it have some sort of radius on it? Maybe. Brendyn hadn't really run too far from The Chevalier, but he wasn't exactly concentrating on anything in particular. Maybe it was some sort of magical ability that kept going, if he looked at Aden? Or maybe it had a lasting effect? Whatever it was, it hadn't left yet, and Aden was beginning to get frusterated with it. There were the slightest feelings of strength returning to him with every passing second. A few more, and he'd be able to stand without too much worry.

This gave Brendyn a good sized window of time to launch some sort of huge attack, if his strength permitted it, and Aden realized this. He struggled to bring his left arm up in defense, while he slowly crossed his right over to take the final weapon in his arsenal off of his belt. The red stilletto. All he could do now was wait, and recuperate for a few more seconds.

10/17

For whatever reason, a tiny smirk was reborn on the Siren's lips when she heard the wire drawing blood from Roen's face - blood that wouldn't make contact with her face because it got caught in the sonic shield and whizzed left and right, likely staining the floor in some distance.

Lucind peeked up, saw her opponent lifting his arms - and she reacted, like any cornered animal would when it sniffed an opening.

Planting her feet on the ground, she bucked up her hips and twisted her middle to the left to bounce him off of her, exclaiming a strained scream, which petered out into a low, half-growled humming. This move was supported by yet another shift in the sonic shield's focusing: it was mostly built up around her hip area (while it became slightly weaker around the rest of her torso), right beneath the devil's rear, providing an additional pushing effect.

Furthermore, the push and twist movement of her hip was accompanied by her right arm following through, adding momentum - and bringing along the shadow short sword she hadn't lost while Roen had rolled them around (remember, she had still tried to stab him), but which she had held tucked by her side to be able to open the side of her belt's buckle: she brought it around in a wide ark, meant to cut along his face in height of the devil's eyes.

Maybe Roen would still attempt to make use of his sword, even if Lu managed to toss him to the left. To make sure that wasn't the case, she ended her attack with another vocal attack:

iri kal Wrote:

iri kal: "sound blast"; humming on a quickly increasing frequency, the Siren accumulates soundwaves within the resonance space of her head/mouth, which are then released (concentrically) on "a" to hit the opponent or any object with a bundle of sound waves; a well performed iri kal can send a full grown man flying some meters; effect is strongest within a radius of 2m/6.5ft - effect loses ca. 25% of its initial strength every 2m; time to 'charge' and release: ca. 1 1/2 seconds

A sense of bittersweet regret began to swell within the Devil's gut as he sat on the most impressive display of resilience he had come across in Heaven or Hell yet. The six foot form of Valentine Hosuko had been reduced to a wimp of a man in the face of the Devil's tactics. Maximos would have fell to his blade if Roen didn't scare him into scrambling around and abandoning their agreement for a blade on blade match. Alex? Bah. Alex, that over grown tin-man, attempted to bog him down. But Lucind? The Bloody Seer as his witness, this woman put them all to shame. She was putting Roen to shame. Because..because of something he couldn't put his hands on.

A warrior brought everything to the table in the beginning of battle. There were no tricks up the sleeve or some momentous buildup to something big. No! Everything was thrown and nothing was held back. The best of a man was always supposed to be thrown at an opponent.

And this was what Lucind did, barring the fact that she was a woman. In a match of no pre-set rules, the Siren had brought everything and anything to the table. This was why Roen began feeling that sense of regret. He had failed to do the same. He had failed to continue his hold around Lucind's neck out of some pitiful weakness and compassion he felt towards those of the opposite sex.

That was why Roen's regret was bittersweet. Bitter for he could have ended this match sooner and ensured victory for Cannon Fodder, and sweet because if he had not be compassionate, he would have never felt the sense of victory he felt at meeting an opponent such as she. For a sociopathic Devil who loved conflict, the Siren earned more than just his respect. She earned his admiration and loyalty. She also earned herself a battle without selfless compassion.

_______

To hell with the World Splitter. She would not let him use it properly. She started bucking as soon as his arms went up for it, so his previous intentions would be moot.

A both fatigued and physically inferior Lucind was attempting to throw an empowered almost two-hundred pound man off of her. Regardless of her Siren manipulations on his posterior, Roen would quite literally worm his way into an attack. Moving his torso and legs, Roen would throw his right leg over the hip-bucking Lucind and plant his right foot on the left side of her body while dragging his left knee to the right side of her head, his body now looming over her from her side while effectively pinning her in place. With his arms already up and her short-sword strike following suite, Roen would instead use his hands to catch the wrist of the right hand coming up to slash his face. And if people were wondering how the hell he was doing things such as this, he was going after Lucind with everything he had. Supernatural perceptions keeping tabs on the echoes of life she emitted with every gesture she made, his advanced speed and reflexes making his efforts superbly coordinated and precises, and...

Roen would throw his leg over Lucind's chin/face, and controlling the hand with that short sword of her's, lean back and into an armbar. However, her strike and his subsequent actions were followed by her wailing. It caught him right in his chest and forced him down and onto the hardwood floor with her arm coming with him. The force of which far more powerful than him leaning back on his own - it could very well snap her arm. And as for Roen? It split his head. Blood came out, a headache exploded, but to a man who made conflict a part of his life, he would not recieve a concussion just yet. As for Lucind? Well. If her arm somehow wasn't snapped, it was irrelevant. Roen would clinch his knees and lift his hip - another painful hold. There was no mercy, and he would pull as far back as he possibly could. If she didn't tap out and scream in the first moment, it would be a damn miracle.

In the end, Roen would be perpendicular with Lucind's body with her arm between his legs.

12/17

:Edited for Clarity:

Athan managed a bit of a smile before he set about disarming himself. Both swords were set aside, dropped into a pile on the ground at his back. He figured he had quite a bit of time, considering how slow she was at getting up. The harnesses were discarded, and after a bit of working with his right sleeve, he managed to remove his hooded sweatshirt.

"Well..."

Athan took a quick look down to his stomach, where her previous attack had struck against his armor. Athan hadn't noticed it before, but his armor had been dented inwards a good deal, making the big guy question just how fortunate he had been to be wearing the protective gear. Casting the thought aside as quickly as it had come, Athan began wrapping the sweatshirt around his left arm, doing a good job of covering the majority of the forearm before he ran out of fabric. It wasn't going to be enough to stop a knife, but maybe it wasn't himself he was trying to protect.

"If you insist."

Athan shot forward, hardly any hesitation on his part despite his reservations concerning the girl's health. But if she was well enough to be challenging him, Athan felt she could still take a few more shots.

Knowing full well how acrobatic Nox could be, Athan didn't throw himself into a single attack. Once he closed the distance he shot forward with that wrapped left hand, a quick straight designed to smash Nox's nose against her face, while his right hand was held at about chest level, ready for that knife to come into play.

[7/17]

Feints don't work when your opponent is ready to hit you right through them. Aden was even more pissed than Brendyn had expected. Of course, he would've been too close for the strike to work from the defensive position the arm had been in before, so Aden had to lunge and pull his arm back a bit to strike. Brendyn wasn't gonna let him slam him, opting to continue with his rush, orienting his angle of attack... right at Aden's fist. By the time he began to sweep it around, Brendyn was right up against it so that it couldn't gather any momentum before hitting him. There was no bone-shattering impact. Instead, Brendyn clung on for dear life as it picked him up and whipped him around to Aden's side. He only let go as the arm reached its full extension and began to slow, stumbling back a bit as he was deposited at an angle behind Aden.

Without hesitating, and before the vampire could bring his arm back again for another strike, he began moving sideways, trying to get more directly behind Aden even as he closed the gap once again. Aden would be able to pivot and strike, but that would give Brendyn plenty of time to react or preempt. The first thing he did after taking a step to get in range in range was lash out with his foot at the back of Aden's leg, looking to buckle it forward. It wouldn't even hurt, but it would prevent him from turning around quickly, which might actually give him the time he needed.

He began chanting a spell...

(BP: 10, AP: 0)

[12/17]

Two things happened pretty much simultaneously: Brendyn got off the last word of his spell and the power flowed through his body, collecting in his hands... and there was a sudden sharp pain in his upper calf, as he was caught mid-step by the stiletto.

The muscle!

Brendyn's leg gave out immediately, and he stumbled forward. He was in an incredible amount of pain, and fully aware that he had just lost a majority of his mobility. It was only a burning desire to inflict the same that let him keep his wits enough to use the spell before it dissipated. He stretched out his arms and aimed his palms at Aden's spine. It was his strongest combat spell, and one of the few things that could level the playing field at that point.

Spell List Wrote:

Paralyze

3 Points

Contact Point: Both hands on the back of the spine.

~Initial~ - The target's legs are paralyzed for five seconds. This spell creates a mental block from moving the affected part of the body. They will be able to maintain balance, though, but can do nothing else with a paralyzed portion of the body.

~Sustained (Second Post)~ - For ten seconds, the target's paralysis encompasses the legs, torso, and neck of the target, leaving them unable to move or twist in any way, although their arms and head still function as normal.

~Maximized (Third Post)~ - For twenty seconds, the target's entire body is paralyzed. They will stand there, unable to move any part of their body or even speak until the spell wears off. They will continue to breathe and perform any other bodily function necessary to their upkeep, but that is all.

If he couldn't hit with the spell, it would be all he could do to keep from faceplanting. A hit, on the other hand, would immobilize Aden and allow Brendyn to grab the back of his shirt while maintaining contact to start charging the spell further and keep himself more-or-less standing.

(BP: 7, AP: 0)

[13/17]

Aden attempted to stand up after successfully crippling the assassin, assured that he would have nothing to worry about after a hit like that. It was then when he felt the jolt of a single-handed grasp behind his tight leather shirt. The vampires momentum from attempting an escape would bring himself forward however, hoping to tear free from the hold that Brendyn attempted that. It was then, however, that Aden felt an instantaneous weakening in his legs, and his forward momentum would -hopefully- tear him free of Brendyns grasp.

"GAH!", gasped the Chevalier. He couldn't help it, as he had never felt numbness like this, in such a wide area of his body. He struggled at an attempt to stand himself up, but he just couldn't manage to do so, even with that large arm of his being used as his support.

"What did you do to me?!", he then yelled back at Brendyn. He had no preception of this non-feeling in his lower body, and he at least wanted some sort of explanation as to why it was like this. Why it had rendered him paralyzed from the waist down. With two crippled fighters on the arena, it'd be an awfully entertaining fight from that point on as well. Who didn't like cripple fights in HoH though, eh? Two wailing, half-motionless bodies slapping away at each other like penguins in an icestorm. It was simply put, a funny scene.

13/17