Grey
Dialectical Hermeticist
The first fighters take to the arena, where the announcer stands. Her tentacles wave little coloured lanterns.
"Welcome to Towerpeak Arena! I, Tethisera Rask, will be your hostess tonight! We've got quite a card lined up for your enjoyment, so don't miss a beat. Out first round will be..."
A heavy-set Elemental strides into the arena. He wears a simple cloth wrap, and sand whirls around him in gentle spirals, rising from the arena floor.
"From the depths of the Awakened Wood, please welcome - Tikrit Ra, the Sand Fury!" She cries.
Next, a rat in light leathers enters, a little taller than the average, with a green scarf billowing behind him and a sword as tall as he is strapped to his back.
"And from distant Skyrift, Garuk, The Windsword!"
Tikrit Ra moves with remarkable agility through a series of kata, sand trailing his motions before settling into a solid stance, feet spread. Garuk has no time for the same display, drawing his sword and holding it in a reverse grip, low to the ground.
Ra suddenly strikes, palm open, thrusting forward. Garuk leaps back, lifted by a gust of wind - his armour has little fabric folds to catch it, and it seems to carry him too high, too far. But a palm of sand from the floor follows, which Garuk manages to land on. He flicks a little mask - a rebreather? - over his face and hurls himself toward Ra in a tight spiral like a drill.
He explodes through the wall Ra raises to block him, but the Elemental rolls gracefully out of the way while deflecting Garuk along a slope of packed sand.
The two turn and face each other again, catching their breath, perhaps.
The Rat leaps high as Ra drops low, spinning down with his sword out like a rotor, aiming for the Elemental. Ra rolls aside, sends Garuk flailing towards him with a fist of sand and strikes the Rat across the face with his actual fist. Garuk staggers back, leaving a long cut from Ra's thigh to breastbone with a quick, almost desperate slash.
Garuk stands, panting, sword resting in that reverse grip again. Ra clutches his wound, then summons a streamer of sand to fill it. His expression is stony, betraying nothing.
This time he goes on the offensive, a flurry of blows followed by a leaping kick, riding on a tide of sand. Garuk waits, thrusts out a hand. For a moment a look of utter panic crosses Ra's face as some unseen magic constricts his lungs, his control falters. Garuk strikes once, severing his leg at the ankle.
The crowd cheers and groans in equal measure. Garuk offers Ra his hand, but the Elemental frowns, fashions a foot-shape of bloodied sand, and stands on his own.
"And the winner is Garuk, the Windsword!" The announcer cheers, returning to centre stage as Ra stalks off to the Surgeons below the arena.
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DO YOU WANT TO DESTROY SCENERY AND THROW AWESOME POWERS AROUND?
DO YOU WANT TO BE A RAT-PERSON WIZARD WITH A HONKING GREAT SWORD?
DO YOU WANT TO ROLL SOME DICE FOR FANCY WIRE-FU BULLSHIT?
THEN SIGN THE FUCK UP, BUDDY.
Which is to say; Darkening Skies game. Low investment tournament game (posting fast during fights, slow the rest of the time, because I have been horrible at running or joining things lately [sorry Sherwood]). High power level. Backstage politics optional.
If you want to play, post an all-caps one line character concept like WANDERING MARTIAL ARTIST SEEKING THE GREATEST CHALLENGE or PSYCHIC SUPERVILLAIN LOOKING TO STEAL THE TECHNIQUES OF THE GREATEST FIGHTERS.
Make sure you read the damn doc first.
The above combat was rolled out within the rules to happen as it did.
This is an incomplete list of established fighting styles in the setting.
"Welcome to Towerpeak Arena! I, Tethisera Rask, will be your hostess tonight! We've got quite a card lined up for your enjoyment, so don't miss a beat. Out first round will be..."
A heavy-set Elemental strides into the arena. He wears a simple cloth wrap, and sand whirls around him in gentle spirals, rising from the arena floor.
"From the depths of the Awakened Wood, please welcome - Tikrit Ra, the Sand Fury!" She cries.
Next, a rat in light leathers enters, a little taller than the average, with a green scarf billowing behind him and a sword as tall as he is strapped to his back.
"And from distant Skyrift, Garuk, The Windsword!"
Tikrit Ra moves with remarkable agility through a series of kata, sand trailing his motions before settling into a solid stance, feet spread. Garuk has no time for the same display, drawing his sword and holding it in a reverse grip, low to the ground.
Ra suddenly strikes, palm open, thrusting forward. Garuk leaps back, lifted by a gust of wind - his armour has little fabric folds to catch it, and it seems to carry him too high, too far. But a palm of sand from the floor follows, which Garuk manages to land on. He flicks a little mask - a rebreather? - over his face and hurls himself toward Ra in a tight spiral like a drill.
He explodes through the wall Ra raises to block him, but the Elemental rolls gracefully out of the way while deflecting Garuk along a slope of packed sand.
The two turn and face each other again, catching their breath, perhaps.
The Rat leaps high as Ra drops low, spinning down with his sword out like a rotor, aiming for the Elemental. Ra rolls aside, sends Garuk flailing towards him with a fist of sand and strikes the Rat across the face with his actual fist. Garuk staggers back, leaving a long cut from Ra's thigh to breastbone with a quick, almost desperate slash.
Garuk stands, panting, sword resting in that reverse grip again. Ra clutches his wound, then summons a streamer of sand to fill it. His expression is stony, betraying nothing.
This time he goes on the offensive, a flurry of blows followed by a leaping kick, riding on a tide of sand. Garuk waits, thrusts out a hand. For a moment a look of utter panic crosses Ra's face as some unseen magic constricts his lungs, his control falters. Garuk strikes once, severing his leg at the ankle.
The crowd cheers and groans in equal measure. Garuk offers Ra his hand, but the Elemental frowns, fashions a foot-shape of bloodied sand, and stands on his own.
"And the winner is Garuk, the Windsword!" The announcer cheers, returning to centre stage as Ra stalks off to the Surgeons below the arena.
---------------------------------------------
DO YOU WANT TO DESTROY SCENERY AND THROW AWESOME POWERS AROUND?
DO YOU WANT TO BE A RAT-PERSON WIZARD WITH A HONKING GREAT SWORD?
DO YOU WANT TO ROLL SOME DICE FOR FANCY WIRE-FU BULLSHIT?
THEN SIGN THE FUCK UP, BUDDY.
Which is to say; Darkening Skies game. Low investment tournament game (posting fast during fights, slow the rest of the time, because I have been horrible at running or joining things lately [sorry Sherwood]). High power level. Backstage politics optional.
If you want to play, post an all-caps one line character concept like WANDERING MARTIAL ARTIST SEEKING THE GREATEST CHALLENGE or PSYCHIC SUPERVILLAIN LOOKING TO STEAL THE TECHNIQUES OF THE GREATEST FIGHTERS.
Make sure you read the damn doc first.
The above combat was rolled out within the rules to happen as it did.
This is an incomplete list of established fighting styles in the setting.
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