Bloody Trenches

BLOODY TRENCHES

Trench warfare is one of the most notorious, brutal, and terrifying forms of warfare known to man. Two Heaven or Hell teams will be pitted against each other in the muddy trench of a long-forgotten war amidst the downpour of icy rain that has filled the trench with a thin layer of scummy water and turned the trench into a muddy tomb.

The area the for the fight will be roughly sixty yards of straight-line trench, wide enough for two average (6'0'', 210 lb) men to walk abreast, with a trench bunker-house on each end. The doors to the bunkers can withstand tankfire, and are sealed tight, meaning they are impossible to enter. Going out of the trench is possible, but will begin a ring out.

Terrain

General - Cramped, linear fighting space with a thick, freezing downpour and overcast skies. Everything is muddy, while the bottom of the trench is covered in a half inch or so of murky water. Teammates not fighting will be outside of the trench and can look over the lip to watch the combat.

Weapons - Trench shovels, ammo-less rifles with bayonets, and the occasional cudgel or trench axe. You'll have to dig in the mud for it, though.

Natural Element Resource: Bonus to water and earth elements, thanks to the rain and mud. Fire elementals may have some trouble getting started in the rain.

Bonus Effects - The "Dirty Fighting" clause has been REVOKED for this arena; it's all fair play as long as you don't murder someone.

"Ugh, you have gotta be kidding me right?"

"I swear, this s**t's in my shoes"

Cold? Nah. James Eredas was never cold. Walking around in slush was a rather uncomfortable experience however.

Standing there silhouetted against the overcast sky, with a black umbrella in one hand, and the other clapsed on the hilt of his sword like a cane, James had the air of some dark envoy, here to pick up the dead and bring them to hell.

It was close enough to the truth.

"Hrm?"

The man turned around to see the reason for the name of their team.

"Right". Hello Miss Sey" he replied with a small, amused smile on his lips. Nothing seemed like it could dampen her spirit. Unrealistic, but great for morale.

"Nobody else here yet, cept for that thing" the captain jabbed a finger at the putrid corpse thingamajig at the other side. He suspected that zombies weren't part of this arena as part of the decor, so that must be a competitor from the other team. Odessa.

"KB" he thought instinctively. It would be interesting to see him again.

He turned to face the lithe white mage and fixated her with an intent gaze that lasted for all of a few seconds before he gave an exasperated sigh.

"Well, alright. Hold this?" he offered her the umbrella.

Kong raised his hand and waved back at Sey, a putrid grin crossing what could possibly pass as 'lips'. He drew up from his sitting position and let the mud soak into his horrible flesh. He would hope someone else had to deal with Sey, for all her cute and bright she was a Cleric, and clerics meant redeath for the undead.

Then the old coot came.

"Heeeelllooo."

Kong said with a disarming wave of his bony hand, his voice sounding like a shitty old radio being played through a tin can. KB would show up eventually, as would the new ********; but it didn't really matter to the less then friendly undead Biker.

Because in some alternate time paradox reality Dzan had already ended his suffering.

The old coot laughed again, another cackling laugh that filled the area and made most people wish that it would come time for his nap already. But it wasn't because Alphonse was a smart old man and went to be at 8 o clock after eating his chicken. Sleep and eating habits aside Alphonse was as serious a competitor as any and ready to get this show on the road.

"Well that's a good thing to hear young lady! So many people nowadays simply pass us off as relics of a forgotten age, just like the very stage you today fight on." Now he was actually starting to make some sense, in a very odd sorta way.

"But I understand if you don't wish to fight me, but shame on you who doesn't think they can take an old man in a fight. I'm over 60 for gods sake!" oh now he was throwing insults! This was where the batshit crazy reputation came from.

"It's up to you though, I mean, you are the pretty young lady, and the lady always chooses. That's the polite thing, ya know."

Splash!

"...Gentlemen."

KB had arrived! Having dropped into the trench he splattered mud in every direction without care. He held no delusions of coming out of the fight clean, and no intentions of fighting cleanly. Muddy water swirled around his boots as he dropped the item he'd carried into the water at his feet.

Glistening dully under the overcast light was a simple but deep bucket full of naked swords and one length of pipe suitable for smashing faces in. ODESSA would find the usual weapons there, a pair of shortswords, longswords, a single greatsword and a variety of knives. Each of the weapons was simple and undecorated - each designed for a single purpose without boasting frills.

Turning his attention down the trench towards the beacon of light which served as the figurehead for the opposition, he chuckled hollowly. He wore his usual black outfit and hat, his burning red eyes glowing beneath the brim with a casually malign energy. The only thing that seemed out of place was the slight ridge around his chest area beneath his coat and shirt, for beneath he wore a tightly strapped breastplate clinging to his still ribs.

"Destroy them." He commanded, making his way forward. He leaned down as he walked, the bottom of his trenchcoat becoming stained with mud even as his hands groped unerringly through the muck. It did not take him long to find the object he desired - a waterlogged rifle from a bygone era with a blood-stained and certainly infectious bayonet mounted at the end just beneath the barrel.

All is fair in love and war.

"Seyumi..." He rasped, his artificial voice seething with hate. "If you won't fight the old man, come to me..." He called to her cheerily, his anger for her kind elating him. The chance to suffocate her in mud was uplifting. "If you don't fight me now, I'll simply find you later at your Temple."

He stopped, giving her the chance to consider. He gave a wave back to his teammates behind them, both to assure them he was in a right state of mind and to rouse them to action.

"Where there will be no rules protecting... spectators."

You know that rude s**t drivers do when they see you on the side of the road and purposely maneuver their car to sling all kinds of water, dirt, and mud on you as they pass by?

As Juan pulled up, the crowd shuck, jiving, and diving to avoid the car as he sped up to the "arena" if it could be called that he didn't take a clue as to which side his team was on. He just picked a side, supposedly and swerved his car to a sliding stop parallel to the area of the trench where Odessa was.

Mud, water, dirt, gravel, whatever, all that crap into their side of the trench below.

He then rolled down the driver side window and peered out.

"Thought this was my side..."

And finally sped off to his team's side and parked.

"I'm here." He said as he opened the door and looked back towards Odessa's side. Looked like Juan will just post up here until it was his turn to fight. So he exited and went to sit on the back of the car, doing so as quietly possible because he didn't want to wake Rou.

Karasu got the mud out of his eyes just in time to see the girl jump down into the trench with KB, which he simply shook his head at.

"Dat girly not gonna last long against de boneman, I tink. Ah well, c'est la vie."

With nothing to sit on, Karasu simply walked closer to the edge of the trench so that he could look down on the fight.

Nostalgic. Just like the battlefields of the Last Great War, minus the scream of aircraft and the constant droning of missiles raining death and destruction, or the loud crush of armor raging across the field. Feeling his boots sink into the mud, the cold rain.

It was as close to home as he had been in quite a few years.

Morgan had come here though for a much different reasons. A flighty reason that fled from him just a few days ago. He came to watch Sey fight, albiet with concern for her ability to hold her own, especially in such a bloody, close confrontation as this battlefield was going to create.

He was quite surprised to see the fight had already started, and that Seyumi Kaikou was leading the assault against an obvious mutant.

...

And she said she did not, and could not understand his ways.

"The mutant will fall," the one spectator answered. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a bill to match the bet Karasu made. It was folded in half and worn, but still legal tender.

-sploosh-

Fox took a leap down into the trench, posturing up and flexing his back. He removed his sunglasses and tossed them over the trench- doesn't matter where they landed, they were going to be fine...

''Looks like its you and me now, scrub.''

The skull helmeted zombie grinned, his putrid smell obviously more evident now that his opponent would be much closer to him. He took the cigar from his mouth and put it out on his own black tongue, before eating whatever was left of it. He chuckled a bit, his bloated stomach sloshing with the movement.

His decaying muscles struggled to push him forward, but move forward he did. His feet shambled in the water making tons of splashing as he approached his opponent. It was unlikely with his slow movements that he would have any hope of getting the first attack.

Sometime later, James Eredas's creation was proudly displayed around the world via HoH's hardworking camera crews.

"Damn, I'm good" he mused to himself, taking a step back to admire his work. Now this was innovative use of his powers! James baked and dried out the mud thoroughly using the heat of his flames, and his umbrella shielded it from (most of) the rain in the process.

"I call it, Man Contemplating on the Horror of War"

To emphasize the point, James had stuck a rusty old bayonet through the statue's head. It was then however, that the slayer suddenly had an epiphany of sorts.

"... I'm tempting fate aren't I?"

Thats it! Nobody defaced anything of his! How dare he draw attention away from the his awesome manly scupture with a cheap, imitation of some nameless, Persian city?

"YOUR CHALLENGE. I ACCEPT"

D<

James jumped down into the trenches, bearing his sword. The man was clad in his regular outfit, not particularly soaked in anyway except for his shoes, thanks to the water and heat-resistant properties his clothes had. It didn't mean the slayer wasn't uncomfortable though.

Even in the narrow confines of the trench, it seemed that James would wield his nodachi, Amaterasu. It was fair to assume that it was not the only weapon James carried into battle, although any others would probably be smaller and more easily concealed.

The Guardians captain held out his right hand, clad in some sort of glove that was obviously armored, and beckoned toward his opponent.

Fox took a drastic shuffle towards his opponent, the water at his feet parting up.

He'd stand erect in front of the zombie, his right side facing towards the opponent, the initial attack being...

-..."thud''-

A simple shove of the index finger from his right hand into the opponent's chest.

Pretty much like Sakura's taunt-

"What are you doing, walking up to me with that thing?

Show some respect.''

-1-

Karasu kind of half-stumbled, half stepped backwards, and held up his pipe to stop the blow, which pushed him back a bit more. Still, the blow was averted, and Karasu was reaching over both pipe and sword to punch his opponent in the face. Not that he actually expected it to work, which was why he was preparing a stomp-kick to the knee, as well.

[2]

Again the pipe was use to block. Unfortunately the force of the swing slammed the pipe into his arm, leaving a large welt, and a deep scratch on the shoulder from the blade. Since, as said before, the punch was just a distraction, Karasu withdrew his arm and slammed his left foot into James' right knee at the same time. Or tried to, at least.

[3]

"Damnit!"

"Well, almost had him"

Tried to, was appropriate, since James had moved that leg back to put power into the swing of course. His left leg was struck, however awkwardly, and although it might not've been the unbalancing blow Karasu might've wanted, James buckled slightly found the leg starting to sink a bit deeper into the mud.

******** rain.

At any rate, James lashed out with another powerful downward blow. This time however, he would keep the blade pressing on if it was blocked again, to try and temporarily overpower Karasu and force him back and off-balance.

3/17

James forcibly wrenched his left foot out of the mud and stepped backward to avoid the slash, pulling his sword out of the soft mud in the process.

"Fisticuffs eh?" he asked warily after a moment, then dropped his sword. The slayer drew a hand up to his face, where a spark of something that looked like crimson flame ignited into view, unfluttered by the pouring and freezing rain.

Everything about James seemed to change in that moment. Where there had once been a slightly goofy, friendly, and over-the-top young man was now a being that radiated a most serious and cold aura, in stark contrast to the warmth that was starting to emanate from his form.

"Be careful what you wish for" James murmured, proceeding to advance on Karasu with his arms spread out, as if he was going to try and bear hug him.

4/17

Almost instinctively, James's hands came together like a thunderclap to grab the arm that threatened to strike him in the fist.

Karasu would find that James's right hand had quite the crushing grip as he yanked on the man's arm with a burst of overwhelming strength, pulling the fist harmlessly past and off to his side. A further simultaneous twist-in sent the elbow of the slayer's other arm careening into Karasu's neck, and helped migitate damage taken from the gut shot. A small "Oof" would be elicited from James when the gut punch connected, but he was already prepared to take atleast some damage with the open stance.

The fact that he had some ******** awesome abs also worked in his favor.

One rarely used both arms to attack at once, especially in an enviroment where mobility was s**t.

5/17

''...?!''

Fox reacted to the zombie's first movement, seeing the head go down for a chomp. Naturally, one would move the arm/hand down, in which case Fox did.

''No Way!''

Following that motion, though, came a left hook to smash into the back of the zombie's right ear, in which case became a lengthy hook since he got shoulder-pushed.

Fox'd slightly stumble back, bringing his left arm back.

''What do you think you're doing? This is no biting contest!'' - Fox said as he poised up.

''You want to FAKE?"

Fox takes another shuffle forward-

''Get a load of THIS"

-this time, Fox brought his right leg up for a roundhouse. Different roundhouse, as he flicks his shin in mid-kick to change the angle, now going into a downwards arc, where his foot would strike at the zombie's left side of the neck. Add to that the Tonfas were still strapped to his shins, so he was either hitting with his foot or the handle or the tonfa.

BRAZILIAN KIIICK

[2]

''Tch."

It was a good try, but Fox was push kicked, which didn't really take that much force off the kick, but the fact that Fox got pushed basically threw him off, being no longer the successful kick he wanted it to be.

''--sploosh, fwissh--''

Fox slipped his leg back down, not turning around nor stumbling back, readying his feet for another kick, like Thai fighters do when they lift the ankles an' blahblahblah...

"YOU...ZOMBIE, YOU''

Fox would kick with his left foot, sending a really low roundhouse aimed at the Zombie's left ankle, intending to blow it away, since, Fox acknowledges the opponent being a zombie.

Not that Fox thought it'd happen, but in case it didn't his true intention was to use the handle of the Tonfa to hook it on the back of the opponent's ankle, where Fox would pull his own -kicking- leg up to take the zombies foot off the ground.

Just a few distractions and s**t, just to help Fox follow up with another attack.

''DOUBLE--"

'fter pulling his own leg up, Fox -without putting his left back on the ground- would slightly pivot counter-clock on his right foot and jump off said leg to pull off a jumping back kick with said leg, soaring his foot across the zombies face.

''SLASH!!"

[3]

Suddenly his muscles got lax, his decaying body limped without warning. His arms hung loose and his body became very light. A purple colored aura began to flow from his decaying body, his decayed muscles no longer moving him. As the kick came; he simply took it, the frail bone in his ankle snapping and his body falling face first into the water, or it would have.

Not that it mattered, for the Zombie no longer fueled himself through his body. Magic took up the slack, keeping his body in motion. As he fell he drew his body forward, and rather then simply fall into the water he used the momentum of his fall to 'spear' at his opponent.

Then Fox kicked into the air like Jackie Chan. Kong would probably strike his body at the waist in mid air, which would likely send them body tumbling into the water like a bunch of dead bodies. Even if Fox pulled another Jackie Chan and somehow kept his balance after taking a 'spear' in mid air, Kong was ready for a fight. And he would bring it into his style at all costs. There would be no grappling if they fell into the water.

-3-

Zombie Magic Muscles: 1/15

C. Fox Wrote:

''SLASH!!"

Fox's leg kick had been successful... somewhat? Who knows, what matters is the second kick.

Which had been avoided technically due to his low kick--

''Huh?!''

His leg would fly over the zombies head --

''Oh shi-!''

Fox wasn't prepared for this, he'd already lose some balance in the air, kind of in the right way. Using his kicking leg's momentum after missing, he'd let it fall back, so when he fell, he'd have at least something to land onto. Fox's motion would look kind of as if he sprawled in the air, y' know, how'd you regularly defend a takedown, which in essence was the same thing.

''Gnn!"

Upon landing, Fox was already working the Zombie's head, despite how gay that sounds. He was simply pushing the head outwards to his own right, because this could quickly turn into another bite fest. Being cautionary of all this s**t, Fox kept all his fingers on the right side of the zombie's head, preferably around the back and ear area, AND the thumb under the jaw, close to the adam's apple. That's if... the zombie has any at this point...

It sucked though. When Fox landed, his right leg would slip a little, digging his right foot into the mud, which almost brought Fox onto his right knee.

One lacked and ankle, the other was pretty much knee bent, not much of that difference here.

''--HNGN-- ...REPULSIVE''

He'd reach for anything in the mud with his right hand..

''Quickly, you don't wanna get beaten to it''...

It probably was a tough task, since the zombie isn't dead or paralized. WELL, he is dead, but you get the point. Anyhow, meanwhile Fox would basically struggle with the zombie such a brief time, if it was necessary. Eventually, Fox pulled out a shovel, grabbing said item by the end of the center of the stick.

''Hah!''

Fox would next use the shovel to smack the zombie's face, flicking his forearm inwards to hit with the blade-thing-like-part-of-it. Of course, it was with the back side of the thing, so there ain't no stabbing or anything of the like.

Clearly it was nothing of a big deal, as the zombie already can't feel pain, but something has to be done.

-4-

Smack!

Did Karasu just get bitchslapped? It appears so. So, lets see. His neck is hurting like hell, he just got bitchslapped, and, oh look. Wham! He just got punched in the chest and knocked off of his feet. So while he sat there coughing for a bit, he reached around in the mud behind him. The first thing he did was sling some mud in the general direction of James' face, then utilizing the distraction, he got a firm grip on the object he had found, a trench shovel, and lunged forward with it, swinging at James' left knee.

He was, of course, grimacing from pain most of the time. After all, there was a damn good chance that something in him was fractured, if not broken.

[7]

Up and above, Fox shouted:

''HADOUKEN''

Just to add some sound effects. Hey, all these fights were time paradoxed, right?

"Alright then... here we go!" James told himself.

Karasu would likely turn straight into 170+ pounds of annoyed Captain.

James thought he had missed, judging from the way both hands met no resistance on their way down. In the narrow confines of the trench, he knew that the only way his opponent dodged that was by either backing away or jumping over, and his warrior's sense told him it wasn't the latter.

Again, sometimes, you just didn't need sight. The true warrior only needed to feel the body of his foe crumple under his fists, and thats exactly what James was aiming for when he held his left arm across his face and lunged forward, ramming his left shoulder into where he felt Karasu was.

"Style 29 Steel Shoulder"

8/17

Actually, no, Steel Shoulder was just that, a shoulder-check.

It did have a special place in James's martial arsenal however, being one of the many Chain Starters. Going through the series of actions in his mind right before actually performing them only served to hone his concentration and boost the speed and the force of will behind the follow-ups he would deliver in quick succession.

"Style 66 Narrow Spike!"-James bashed his left elbow back into Karasu's body.

"Style 132 Cinder Fist!"- The slayer formed a knife-hand with his right fist, honing his flames into an "edge" and jammed it into forth and under into where he suspected would be just under the man's ribs.

9/17

James wasn't sure if the searing pain on his head was the result of his opponent, or that of his own blood rushing and thumping through his veins.

Probably both. He was too immersed in the feeling of the man's guts in his hand to care though. Even if James opened his eyes, for the sleeting rain had washed away the mud, his vision would be blurry and tinted red with the blood matting down his hair, but it was his mind's eye that James was relying on.

Shame that repeated shovel hits were threatening to erase that map as well.

"Huh" he gritted his teeth, and placed his left hand against Karasu's chest, and grabbed up at the nearest piece of bone he could feel in the man's fleshy abdomen with his other fist.

The slayer then shoved, and yanked as hard as he could muster.

"Red Maiden"

10/17

Thanks to the act of pushing his opponent away, James succeeded in getting only barely cuffed by Karasu's final retaliatory strike, he stumbled further back in a bloody haze to recover.

When his vision finally cleared, the throbbing in his skull returned full force, and the slayer cursed, cupping the injured spot with his free arm to no real relief.

As James squinted down on his fallen foe, the faintest of a smile graced his lips despite the pain. That guy was going to need alot more medical attention then he did, and soon.

"Bloody Style 4 always works" he added aloud, as if an afterthought, tossing aside the piece of bone and picking up his nodachi. If Karasu attempted to continue the fight, well, proper measures would be taken.

11/17

The ferocity of the White Mage was equaled only by her absurdity. The cliche the two represented was laughable and yet exciting. The skeletal vampire showed no fear as the beacon of light approached him, and he did not budge in the face of 'certain doom'. If anything, the intensity of their fated match simply reached new heights as his infernal eyes met her own.

He would step in to her dash, aiming to undermine her valuable reach. Holding the rifle ( which for the sake of simplicity will have the statistics of a M1 Garand ) in both hands near the butt and along the barrel, he countered by shoving the rifle down perpendicular to the shaft of the hammer. If he succeeded in catching it this way and holding it, by meeting her upwards strike with his own downwards motion and strength ( effectively forming a brief weapon lock ) his right foot would lead in towards her own as he shifted his right side towards her and lifted his right arm, the left acting as the axis by which he'd attempt to swing the butt of the rifle up to smash her in the face.

This kept the deadly bayonet pointed towards the mud, and would ultimately leave the skeleton poised half-facing Sey and half-facing the trench wall, with their difference in height affording him a casual finishing stance that wasn't too dynamic.

1

Oh, come on. That wasn't supposed to happen!

Whilst the zombie was getting a grasp on his legs, Fox would yank the shovel out -still holding the weapon with his right hand-, spurting all sorts of nasty s**t from the zombie's face. Luckily, it didn't fall on him.

It seemed like the Zombie wouldn't just drag him down, instead, the zombie liked the idea of lifting him up to slam him into ground.

''-Huog-" Fox would be lifted in the air, his left hand still against the zombies head.

''s**t, they don't do this in the movies!"

Just as, Fox used the shovel to jam the flat blade between his waist and the zombies chest, pushing down the shovel down, like a lever, to use it as a "spatula" to pull the apart as the fell.

"Grrrrrrrrr !!!" The water would splash all around them, softening the fall a little. Fox would keep his head from going into the water, s**t-colored drops dripping from his hair.

This would put the pointy end of the shovel into the zombies plexus, so once they fell, the impact from the handle of the shovel to the ground would cause the shovel to dig into the zombie's decomposing chest. The idea was to separate from the zombie. You could say they were SHOVEL apart, because I don't know the measures of a shovel.

Worst case scenario would be the shovel impaling the zombie -or more like 'going through- in which case Fox would, anyways, use Open Guard, which is merely to have his feet placed on the opponent's hips rather than wrapping the legs around. All to keep the zombie at bay.

With his back still against the water, Fox would c**k his left arm, no longer pushing the zombie's head, balling his fight tightly.--

''Steady... " Fox thought.

[5]

''UGH, WHAT THE--''

s**t started coming out of the zombies body. It smelled horrible too. This is what Fox didn't want to happen, but it happened.

''******! I HATE THIS st''

It also messed with his concentration, making him stall as he tried not to hurl, which by mistake allowed the zombie to make his next move.

''HEY, NO! AGGHHH'' Pain, as the zombie chomped at his leg. LUCKILY, Fox's leg was covered in velcro straps or some s**t, and the Tonfa on top of that, so if anything he could only feel the biting on his calf, since not much was specified on that account. Only the teeth trying to dig in, because first they'd have to go through the straps and the pant, which is already quite a few layers of cloth. Unless the zombie had crazy fangs, then.

But that was about to be solved. It's too early to go weak, no time to be a PANSY. Usually people would start going crazy and start throwing kicks... Pointless against; you'd have to pick your spots, and Fox was that kind of fighter.

In mere anger and frustration, gritting his teeth and scowling with a huge frown, Fox grabbed the shovel with both hands and did a ''sit-up'', forcefully thrusting the blade of the shovel upside down into the zombies jaw, in an attempt to tear it off. The zombie was biting hard, so Fox had to be hard on the guy too.

''NO MORE BITING FOR YOU''-- Fox jammed it in deep, as if he was actually digging with the shovel--

"-krrssshhh, krrssshh- GODDAMN IT DASH, hgn!"

-- pushing the handle and the shaft UP and then shoving the item DOWN to tear the jaw off. Or at least that particular side of the jaw -whichever was facing Fox-, to rendering it useless anyhow. It was a zomberz after all.

[6]