Friends, Romans, Countrymen. Lend me your ears!

The roar of the coliseum dwindled to a dull murmur. Tens of thousands of Romans and wealthy foreigners had paid good money for their current seats. This event had been advertised for nearly a fortnight in the surrounding countrysides of the Roman empire; even longer in the empire itself. The stage had been set for one of the most potentially gripping battles of the next decade. Four coliseum champions thrown into the large 300 foot in diameter ring of sand spectators knew as the battlefield. It was complete with eighteen foot high concrete walls to prevent escape, and a concrete floor covered by half an inch of sand for traction.

The less experienced gladiators called it the Pit of Death. Today, however, only the most blood soaked veterans were left to visit it. To them the arena was simply known as "The Pit".

The Emperor's announcer let the murmur settle out into dull silence. Only then did he continue his rehearsed monologue into the microphone.

Today, our gracious emperor Mengsk III has brought together a spectacle the likes of which you will never again see! Four different coliseum champions, each a master of his.... or her own fighting style will lock teeth in combat. Only one team will remain!

The announcer paused as bloodthirsy cheers rang out from the wealthy crowd, waiting for the cheers to fade close to silence before continuing.

The winning team will be granted emancipation from the fights and roman citizenship!

More cheers

Please join me in thanking Emperor Mengsk for this auspicious occasion!

The crowd erupted in chants of "long live Mengsk" while the portly emperor managed to stand from his chair and take a bow. Silencing the audience with a wave of his hand he took the microphone from the announcer. With an immense smile the emperor began to talk from his lofty seat some thirty feet above the arena.

I will be introducing the contestants for this event. From the north, the only female coliseum champion, the vixen captured in north Sicily; CLAIRE WILDER!

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Claire pulled one of her throwing knives from her bandoleer. The northern ready room was dark and smelled of mold, it was unlikely the room had been cleaned for several years. Raising the knife to her mouth, Claire attempted to pry last night's dinner from between two of her teeth.

"Goddam chicken skin. Always gets stuck there."

The garbled sounds of the announcer beginning his speech met Claire's experienced ears and as she attempted to discern what he was saying, the rightmost door opened with a rusty squeal and an electronic beep. Into the room was pushed a man not much bigger then herself, followed by no less then a dozen Roman guards. The guards lined the back of the ready room as if to impress the fact that there was no running from this fight.

Not like Claire had any plans to run in the first place.

Claire glared at her ally as he approached, absentmindedly twirling the throwing knife by the ring handle. A champion of the arena he might be, but first things first.

"You smell funny. Don't make me carry your ass in this fight."

She heard her name called but didn't respond immediately. Claire knew how to impose a dramatic effect, every good gladiator knew how to work the crowd to a degree. One of the newer guards apparently didn't take too kindly to her delaying her summons from the emperor and Claire heard him shuffling forward over the gravel floor; most likely to push her in the back.

"Touch me with that hand and loose it. I'll move when I'm good and ready"

She made the crowd wait until she could clearly hear her name being chanted before jogging into the bright sunlight. As she cleared the entryway, she was greeted by a tumultuous applause despite the fact that she was once again picking at her teeth with the throwing knife.

"Haha!" She muttered to herself, spitting out the chicken skin as she jogged through the arena, coming to a stop halfway between her entrance and the center.

Soon enough other names were announced

"Animus Miser"

"Archibald"

"Terrance Blain"

The fight wouldn't begin till all four contestants made their entrances. Until then, Claire absentmindedly began spinning the throwing knife about her right hand's pointer finger again.

"Animus Miser!!"

The crowds exploded! Each cheering for his favorite gladiator. No doubt a portion of the mob was cheering for the name on their lucky ticket. Especially amongst the nobles it seemed gambling on gladiators was a most sensible pass time. Some made fortunes while others eventually end up in the very pit they were betting against.

"Hmph. Don't know what that guy is thinking." Miser breathed with a snicker. His voice was deep and his eyes seems hardened by the many battles that bought him the title Champion. Who would have thought that the little runt would make it, after all these years, to the top? Who would have thought that he and Blaine would meet again under these circumstances? On their way to freedom -together- no less.

Animus spat on the dirt floor and did a final stretch loosening his muscles for battle. This was his home grounds. He had been fighting here for years. He knew everything about this pit and that is an advantage that he knew the other three did not have. "Four colosseum champions my ***. Rome only needs one."

Tilting his head back slightly before heading out, Miser laughed. "And it'll not be us. Right Terrance?" Others may not understand but without a doubt another gladiator would... given what the king had announced. "Drinks are on me once we're out. Lets see how much you've grown since then, com-rade."

Entering the pit at bellow of his name, the brilliant sun shimmered over his gears. They were not shined and polished like some fragile decorationation on the castle walls. These equipments were cleaned and cared for as partners for battles of life and death. To be able to retain such reflective surfaces in such a dirty environment, one can only imagine the obsession of their owner.

"No clouds huh." Animus commented absent-mindedly as he looked his first opponent up and down. "So you're the famous Claire Wilder from the North. A 'stunning' girl carrying sixteen knives. You're certainly tall but its a shame you haven't... 'grown' a bit more." He snickered. "Don't you think?" Miser had already begun with the insults calling also from half way between his entry and the mid point. A gladiator's battle is more than just fists and swords. Verbal swordplay is also as good a show as any.

His sword and shield remained sheathed behind his back. While it is true the battle won't begin until all the gladiators are out... most are usually ready even before that happens, no? Was Animus trying to show himself a fool? Or did he simply have that much confidence?

"Here we have the Master of Metals, the Ferocious Ferris, the Metal Man himself, Archibald!"

Swaggering his way into the center of the Colosseum, Archibald eyes the other contestants with a condescending air. He briefly adjusts the tightness of his right-side armor before looking at his teammate. He eyes her nonchalant expression and adopts a disappointed look, crossing his arms shortly after. The breeze picks up slightly, tossing sand grains on random whims.

"You know, just because we're putting on a show doesn't mean we can't enjoy it." He calls out to the woman, tapping his right foot in the process. Part of his hair to obscures his vision, forcing him to part it against the wind. Putting on a hopeful smile, he attempts to extract a positive attitude from his ally. "Wanna make work fun for once?"

The glare from the sun illuminates the mostly titanium armor as the backside of his hand-piece morphs into a five-inch long blade, thinning the rest of the armor to do so. Pointing at the nearest enemy, his grin grows and his eyes squint a little. "Bring it."

"And don't worry," he looks briefly at his ally, whom the announcer had introduced as Claire, "I can carry my weight just fine."

Lets get one thing perfectly straight, Terrance did not like this country. The first thing he would do after getting out of this pathetic arena is get a nice pint, meet a girl he cared nothing about for a quick romance, and high-tail it South. It was time to get as far away from this miserable hell hole and his chance had finally arose. Terrance had always assumed he would be forced to bust out of his imprisonment but once he realized how poor his combatants were, he decided to go all the way.

His "partner" seemed confident.

"You can can buy your own bloody drink. I am afraid once this is over, you wont be seeing any more of me."

The small warrior left Terrance to finish checking his equipment. It was just busy work, making sure his orbs where all accounted for. Checking to see if his crossbow was loaded. Cleaning scuffs of his sword and boots...


"Lastly.... Terrance Blain"

Time to bring the pain. The rouge jogged outside, setting his sights on the two opposing gladiators. To think, their death would secure his way out of here. Terrance stopped much sooner then his partner, he didn't want to enter whatever conversation they were having, he wanted to exterminate them as he would a rat in his kitchen.

"Well come on then.... Are we going to sit around and talk like bitter women all day?" He let out a slight smirk as he looked at Clair.

"Oh I see that would be fitting for some of us. My apologies." Terrance released a wad of spit onto the ground and gritted his teeth.

As her opponents entered the arena, Claire took the time to assess each one of them. The first, this Animus Miser, seemed to be wearing heavy bladed guards along his lower arms and legs. Melee combat with that particular man looked to be a poor choice. The sheer number of blades carried on his person looked to be enough to shred even a competent opponent in short order.

"So you're the famous Claire Wilder from the North. A 'stunning' girl carrying sixteen knives. You're certainly tall but its a shame you haven't... 'grown' a bit more." He snickered. "Don't you think?

Claire grinned, giggled and blew the man a flirty kiss as her ally was introduced. The verbal prods weren't anything new to her. Frankly she was glad this particular opponent as least was somewhat clever in his verbal sparring. The simple minded brutes that just wanted to kill her and use her body for enjoyment got old pretty fast. Such was a girl's life in the coliseum.

The emperor announced the final contestant, A Terrance Blaine, and Claire began looking over his weaponry as well. A sword and a shield were the only visible clues given to Blaine's fighting style, though the sword still seemed to be sheathed by his side. For a second, Claire wondered if maybe he used fire pokemon.

"Well come on then.... Are we going to sit around and talk like bitter women all day?" He let out a slight smirk as he looked at Claire.

"Oh I see that would be fitting for some of us. My apologies."

"Don't know what you're talking about Grandpa, You seem to be the one working with Animus the Miserable. Cheer him up a little for me kay?"

Her opponents seemed to think Claire was some greenhouse flower, one that would wilt at a few choice words about her body shape and her gender. More the fool them. She simply parried the verbal prods with an air of humor (hey, they were the ones checking her out, it seemed like they completely ignored Achie) while continuing to spin the knife in her right hand, gathering momentum.

The Emperor's voice boomed over the din one last time

"Gladiators! Fight!"

What was this mortal combat? Oh, wait, coliseum, fight to the death, fine.....

As the emperor finished announcing the official start to the fight, Claire took off at a brisk jog to the left, in a semicircle around Animus. While she moved, she grabbed at her bandoleer and extracted one of her discharge knives with her left hand, slipping it into the holster on her left side, while skillfully maintaining the spinning knife in her right. Hopefully she had shielded the motion with enough of her body for them to be unsure of what she had just done with her left hand.

Terrance was the girl's target. The fact that he hadn't even walked to center of his side seemed to suggest he preferred distance combat. A theory Claire wanted to test before her and Archie were forced to dodge projectiles till the cows came home.

Miser returned to Wilder a soft grin and a theatrical gentleman's bow. This one seemed resistant to this particular flavor of swordplay. Though she did not return the assault, it seems this Claire Wilder is one that can appreciate his attempts. An interesting note. Perhaps later in battle, and not as assults, they can enjoy some intellegent exchanges. Afterall, this is a rare find. Most gladiators are simple brutes not versed in any length of such arts.

"Here we have the Master of Metals, the Ferocious Ferris, the Metal Man himself, Archibald!"
"Lastly.... Terrance Blain"

His other opponent, Archibald, seemed... different. Perhaps it was his philosophy and his underlining beliefs. It was rare to find gladiators who think that these death matches are simply work or a job as if they had a life beyond. And for the veteran few who did, Archibald's tone seemed to lack the weight that usually accompanied the bloody hands of gladiators.

On a side note it was interesting to see the contrast between partners. Blain with his 'Don't get too friendly' and Archibald with his 'Let's get more friendly'.

"Bring it." Were Archibald's only two words to Miser. A single katar like the Full Metal Alchemist? And his title as the Master of Metals... Animus unsheathed his blade and pointed the Claymore at Archibald. "I expect only the very best by someone who holds that title." It seems the marks were set. Without letting his aim go awry, Animus took a right step back bending his knees into a ready position. His right hand gripped the metal firmly close behind his head as he rested one edge of the claymore lightly on his left forearm held horizontally in front.

"Gladiators! Fight!"

Remaining in the side ways stance and careful of his surroundings, Animus launched forward towards Archibald with focus on circumvating any attacks and building a steady momentum. Miser's speed was certainly impressive above the average Joe but it was nothing overwhelming; As if he was only testing the waters to gauge Archibald's level. A good gladiator needs not only to know how to fight and survive; He must also know how to please a crowd. A close battle is exciting for the bets and an epic come back is especially exhilarating. All these were done on the basis, of course, that one is able to control the tide of battle.

It would seem that Claire had her eyes on Blain. The battle had only just begun.

"I expect only the very best by someone who holds that title."

Barely hearing the statement over the jubilant crowd's cheering, Archibald replies with a courteous, "Of course". His head tilts up; a taped-on grin reveals itself to the man. Unveiling a stern frown, he swings his eyes to the left to keep tabs on the other gladiators before aiming his piercing gaze at the claymore his most direct opponent possesses. The two blades point directly at each other, as if locked in a struggle of their own. Their sheen intensifies as the sun grows hotter, threatening to blind the metal manipulator.

As the tension peaks, the announcer shouts at the top of his lungs. The fight had begun.

Archibald's head returns to its normal angle. His right arm settles in a boxing-esque position while his left begins moving upwards to mimic its counterpart. The chain rings near his spinal cord close up to form a continuous shape, while the rings around his lower back thin by a moderate amount. His feet carve new pathways as the sand grains part in a forced manner. The image of the claymore grows ever larger in Archibald's pupils as the man approaches with impressive haste, but the metal manipulator remains steadfast. Not yet... not yet...

Terrance was not one to sit and watch what would happen. He knew what he wanted to do and he intended on carrying it out. As soon as the fight began, he darted to the left, sweeping past his ally and getting a clear view of the man known as Archibald. He was not completely familiar with his two opponents but one thing he could assume well enough was that Claire was faster then her partner. It was for that reason that Terrance was keeping his distance from her and the twirling daggers and focusing more on the solid metal man.

First thing was first, test the armor capabilities of Archibald. Reaching his right hand to his back, Terrance withdrew his crossbow which slide out of its hostler smoother then wet soap. Aiming was not entirely necessary as from his point of view, Miser was attacking head on and Terrance shot would be more to Archibald's right side. Plus, Terrance's bolt was sure to beat Miser to their competing locations. Using only his right arm, Terrance took more of a pop shot that would dip down slightly, aiming for Archibald's right hip/upper thigh. With his left hand, he reached into a small brown satchel on his hip. Rough engravings of the orbs inside his pouch gave Terrance the vision needed to withdraw the correct alchemy container. He knew Claire was coming and expected she would charge with more ferocity knowing that she was being left out of the fight.

The movements of battle were well choreographed. Each piece acted of it's own accord. Miser moved in on a stationary Archibald while the crowd cheered gleefully at the impending bloodshed. Blaine however moved away from Claire's approach, generating a chorus of boos and jeers from the crowd.

"Scared of a girl?"
"Get in there and fight coward!"

Claire's semicircle was adjusted as Miser moved in on Archibald. Without the threat from the bladed warrior, Claire no longer needed to circumvent him and altered her route to Blaine, making it more direct. Blaine's retreat however left Miser vulnerable. Claire would pass behind the advancing Miser, entering his blindspot. Taking advantage of this, Claire loosed the twirling dagger in her right hand at the man's backside just moments after Blaine loosed his crossbow bolt at Archibald. In quick succession, Claire's right and left hand reached back to her bandoleer in a cross extracting two more throwing knives. As Terrance began digging in his Bag-o-magic her arms unfolded, the two new knives were loosed at both sides of Blaine's torso. On Claire's left hip a small short buzz could be heard as her discharge knife gathered it's first charge.

Claire sped up a bit, chewing up the distance between herself and the stationary Blaine. She still had not reached top speed, but she was closing on the archer, and quickly. In short order she'd be within melee range. Hopefully the knives would prevent him from finding what he was looking for in the bag before Claire was within striking range.

"Of course." Was the simple response.

The Katar pointed directly at his own Claymore as if it were a special custom of respect. Judging from the strength of his grip and those keen eyes, Animus was sure this man held his own pride in his skills if not his title as champion. Four champions stood in this pit and two... perhaps even none... will leave it alive. Cheers from the crowd overwhelmed the colloseum!! The pressure!! The excitement!! The thrill!!!

In that moment triggered by the announcer, Archibald changed his stance from the pointing katar to the 'boxing-esque position'. Instead of moving as did Miser, the man of metals chose to stay perfectly still simply waiting. No. Not simply waiting. Animus could hear the unnatural chimes, the trinkling of metal, from the figure who was supposedly unmoving. No wind and nothing from the front meant something from the back. Though Animus has yet to realize that the metal was being directed into a single continuous shape, Miser could tell that something was happening.

Backward to safety? Forward to attack? HA! One can only say that Animus is confident; Or foolish; Or simply both. Suddenly, a metallic clang suddenly rang as Claire's dagger bounced off Miser's shield still sheathed on his back. The dagger fell harmlessly to the earth as Miser was now alerted that Claire may attack his back at any time - not that he wasn't careful to begin with.

Having closed in a set distance, phase one activated automatically. The morning star had not moved from high above the earth but by simply changing the fighter`s distance, the sun's ray reflecting off the Claymore also angled flashing Archibald to blind stun him if only for a few seconds.

While the ray of light charged intensity for one post turn as the Claymore's 'sheen intensifies as the sun grows hotter, threatening to blind the metal manipulator'; Animus had not yet aimed the ray at Archibald due simply to the physics of the incident and reflected ray. Yet now that the sheen was directed its ray was controlled aiming not for Archibald's eyes, that would be too easy, but for Archibald's right armed armor.

Making use of its shape and thus a wide area scattering effect, the light would instantly reflect off his titanium for a make shift flash bomb!! Point blank range in Archibald's face!! Not only that. Due to Archibald's stance, the light would bounce off the other gauntlet for a second simultaneous flash! As if that was not enough, Miser's continuing movements would bring the ray sweeping directly for Archibald's eyes.

Automatic. Surprise. Point blank. While the stimulus overload should normally blind for at least 5-10 seconds, Animus only gave himself the window of one for his proper attack. At that same moment, Terrance's bolt suddenly shot past Animus for Archibald's right leg! Having seen this foe's intent focus on the timing against himself... Miser doubted that Archibald would notice the bolt coming from the side much less if he was blinded. Even if the man moved back, chances are that he would be struck in the left inner thigh instead.

Instantly with the flash bombs and with his own small shadow preceeding beneath him, Animus launched forward driving the explosive power of his combined momentum and the strength of his arms into a powerful thrust at that height aiming to pierce through Archibald`s chain mail, his body and his spinal cord to out the other side in a single piercing strike.

But his technique, Gattou Jutsu, was not merely as simple as it seems. Somewhere after launching, Miser pushed with a greater strength a single step suddenly changing the pace of his attack. It would be extremely difficult for a blinded foe to predict his change of movements and almost just as bad for a seeing foe who has been straining for a single timing based on what he previously saw.

By the high speed and natural motion of his technique, Animus`s explosive range suddenly burst extended a length of the Claymore plus the arm all within a split second's time making it that much more dangerous a technique. Yet even with that kind of speed and strength, Miser did not forget to measure Archibald`s shift of weight (amongst other things) to give his own aim a small margin of error and therefore error correction ability.

While Miser was confident in the explosive power of Gattou Jutsu, Animus was still careful to maintain a set distance between himself and Archibald. A shiver slithered down Animus' spine by the sheer excitement in anticipation. There on his face was a grin like a child who just thought of a new prank to pull. If Archibald is anything close to what he claimed to be then this should be a good battle.

(OOC: Rushed this post cause bad time management)

The metal column on Archibald's spine begins to travel up towards his left arm. Meanwhile, an annoying glare from the enemy's sword causes a diversion in gaze and squinting, but does not impede vision in any significant way; after all, a gladiator champion needed to prove adept at dealing with cheap tactics, such as blinding by reflected light, in order to ascend to become king of the arena.

The time to move, he decides, is now. Initiating a controlled dash towards the claymore-wielding adversary, Archibald's craft completes itself; a second Katar forms from the pooled chain mail metal, identical in shape to the first. His tainted and worn metal decreases the glare received from the sun on both arms, so much so that a second blinding attempt only manages to stun his vision for approximately a second. He continues his head-on charge, however, as he is now able to sense the metallic composition of the claymore and grasp the distance from his opponent that way; it is just within his range of manipulation of twenty five feet.

A projectile of some sort manages to catch his chain mail in its reduced area, allowing a small gash to open in Archibald's back before the armor deflects the rest of the potential harm. Such little pain proves easily ignored, he now closes within fifteen feet of his opponent and skids to an abrupt stop at five, making a horizontal swipe at Miser's waist with his left Katar, sweeping from the man's right. His right katar, anticipating some sort of retaliation, is still in boxing position.

((SORRY PEOPLE!!! Sorta didn't keep tabs on this))

Terrance was acutely aware of the female sprinting to his location. It has been a long time since he has been able to see the face of a woman actually wanting to be near him, her intentions not included of course. The fight had officially begun with Miser and Archibald rushing to meet each other. The flicker of movement as two knives quickly homed in on Terrance location caused the alchemist to show off a bit of his own speed. Terrance did not get to where he was based off cheap parlor tricks alone. No, his dexterity and quick reactions has proven to be unrivaled by anyone in the arena thus far. It is time to see who was in fact quicker between himself and this Clair character.

Lowering his right arm and raising his left, Terrance faced his threat without fear. Both knives would arrive at approximately the same time which meant that only one would be blocked by Terrance's buckler on his left arm. Twisting his body hard to the right caused the other to nick through his tunic but do no damage. The only benefit Clair would gain from this is time which would be undoubtedly useful but easily countered. Keeping his momentum going in his left arm, Terrance swung up then circled back down, releasing a small brown orb that erupted into a pillar of black smoke. The smog quickly engulfed a short radius of five feet and completely cloaking Terrance who proceeded to toss his crossbow to the right and take quick light steps to the left. The clatter of the crossbow would help distract Clair who would more then likely be listening to Terrance in hopes of finding his location.

It was going to be a game of cat and mouse between the two of them for a small portion of this fight. Terrance had no intentions of entering combat with her, not until he took care of her partner. He came to win, not to die in a blaze of glory. Reaching towards his pouch once more, Terrance had formulated a plan in dispatching this metal bender although it really would have helped to be able to use his crossbow for this part. Just part of the sacrifices we make...

Claire watched her twin throwing knives score no major hits, the first being parried, and the second skim the man's tunic. The fact that no damage had been done was not a surprise. Claire had only used the attack to cover her advance, nothing more. Finally closing the distance to a reasonable ten feet, Claire skidded to a stop as her target disappeared into a burst of smoke.

Terrance Blaine was proving himself to be an annoyance. Why wouldn't the man fight her. Was she not worth his time? Did he not consider her enough of a threat to even bother with? Claire burned with fury as these thoughts rushed through her mind. She took a few steps to the left, wary of the smoke. She didn't want a crossbow bolt through the chest, so she moved from her prior location. Time would tell that this move was unnecessary as the crossbow she was worried about clattered to the ground by her feet. The suddenness of the object caused her to jump backwards out of caution just as the holster on her left waist released a short second buzz. The discharge knife in her left holster had gathered it's second charge.

Reaching into her bandoleer with both hands, Claire extracted the two knives at the very bottom. Terrance was right, the smoke would stop her from performing any precise direct assaults. If Terrance had been looking for cover he had found it. Claire was not about to go running headlong into a pillar of smoke. The cover the smoke provided would work both ways however. Claire knew it was unlikely he could see what she was doing, so she opted for an all encompassing attack. Loosing the chain linked knives from their holders, Claire began to swing one end around her head in a clockwise motion with her left hand. Her right held the base on the other end, rooting the chain so it could gather momentum.

One revolution, a bit slow
Two, a little bit faster
Three, almost there.....

On the fourth revolution, the set of knives had gathered enough momentum to stabilize into an attack that could carry through the entirety of the smokey haze. With a left to right jerk of her left hand, in conjunction with a forward stomp with her left foot, Claire took a low eight foot swipe through the smoke. Her intention was to catch Terrance about his legs, trip him up and find where the man was in the smoke. Of course the plan wasn't without it's fallbacks as well. Claire's right hand held the base of the chain linked knives dangerously close to her open right Holster. Should she catch a fish her left hand would let go of the chain, and her right would plunge her end of the set into the holster, electrifying the whole set. The blade of the knife on the other end would also be a threat if the man was just out of tying up range.

A crunch of wood could be heard as Claire brought her left foot down. A quick glance told her she had stomped on the discarded crossbow, breaking the right arm. Smirking for the first time this entire battle, Claire awaited the results of her cast through the smokey waters.

Honor, is a luxury most gladiators could not afford. A single error in judgement... a single mistake... could be their last.

A Single Mistake.

The roar of the seated audience suddenly hushed into a dead silence. None of them could have forseen the following turn out. And most of them were left speechless after what they saw. For what they witnessed was that there in the pit, Archibald seemed to have ran himself into the piercing range of Gattou Jutsu sliding the blade into his abdomen, through his small intestines, taking his spine and out the other side of his now bloody armor.

What?

It must have been the flash bombs! Though 'tainted and worn', the metal (reflecting light) still disabled Archibald's 'vision for approximately a second' disrupting his judgement. This katar champion did not defend. He did not dodge. Instead he ran straight in 'and skids to an abrupt stop at [a distance of] five' feet.

A Single Mistake.
Not only was the range within striking distance of Gattou Jutsu, but it was a distance well beyond his own katar.
What?

The average Claymore is almost five feet in length. By adding the length of the executing arm, the thrust range of Gattou Jutsu should easily have pierced Archibald's body despite his last minute attempt to stop. On the contrary, the katar was at a clear disadvantage due primarily to its short range (pick up a ruler if you want to confirm - length of arm plus length of blade) and secondly to its method of attack.

A Single Mistake...

But Archibald's efforts did not end there. His left arm sweeped in hitting not the expected waist by his katar; but the Claymore by his protective armor. With Archibald's height of 5"11' and Miser's at 5"2', it was inevitable for Archibald's arm to angle down reducing his range further and striking the Claymore instead.

..could be their last.

As the katar's range fell short of the intended waist, its sweep would have forced the Claymore out of his body freeing it into the air. Miser estimated that Archibald's small and large intestines should be severed on the inside and easily witnessed how the armor should have been cleaned through on the outside. At best his body would hold in one piece. In the worst case scenario, Archibald would fall (given the loss of spine therefore legs) breaking into the top half and the bottom half (given that he would have sliced his own abdomen in half). The pain would be incredible even if he did not fall face first. Most would already black out from the pain and with the massive blood loss it was almost a guarenteed death.

But all this was simply a result of Archibald`s actions and simply expectations from Miser. Animus' move consisted more of a dodge than an attack.

With his Claymore now free of Archibald`s body, Animus followed the momentum spinning anti-clockwise on the outside of Archibald`s left arm. The motion aimed to allow his right elbow blade to finish what his claymore should have half completed - truly splitting Archibald`s body in half before his expected fall.

Warning: This is the longest death post you will ever read.

Archibald, not noticing the incoming sword upon being blinded, is ran through lethally. Barely holding back an ear piercing scream, he desperately attempts to fuse the sword to his own body and armor in an attempt to save himself. Blood flows freely down his torso in defiance. After a few moments, his vision becomes blurry, and he begins falling to the ground as everything fades to black.

A swoop of knives flew through the empty smoke screen. Terrance had already exited out the back of the smog and close to his partner and Archibald. His eyes searching and his hand pulling out a small red orb, the rouge was ready to unleash his attack but...

A brief pause as Terrance was not used to quick fights. Archibald crumbled to his knees, his arms struggling with the blade that was stabbed through his chest. Well, this would make things a bit easier but it also made the use of this orb pretty abysmal for the moment. So Terrance snapped back into reality and replaced his orb, already searching for a new one as he jogged around the now fading black smoke. A two vs one meant that they would need to surround their opponent. It would have been so very nice to have his crossbow right now.

Claire's Initial swing through the smoke yielded no results, meaning nothing was within a five foot frontal radius of herself and the pillar of smoke. Confident now that the smoke was free of any potential hazards, Claire advanced toward it. Sliding her left hand down the chain and positioning it in front of her, Claire leveled out the set about three four off the ground while putting herself into a tight 360 degree clockwise spin to keep the rotation of the set going. Now utilizing the full eight feet of the set, Caire spun herself into the center of the fading smoke cloud. It was still dense enough to block vision, but not for much longer. The outskirts of the smokescreen were already fading.

The entire action took only seconds to complete and would likely catch Terrance from behind as he gawked at the fallen Archibald while fiddling with his balls (of magic). Aware something was amiss by the roar of the crowd, adrenaline rushed into Claire's system. Exactly what had just taken place?

Claire pressed on what she considered a positional advantage on Terrance. If he was still within a five foot radius of the smoke, The chain would wrap around his body, and Claire's right hand would once again cause the electrification of the set by plunging her end into the right holster. Should he be just out of rage of a wrap up, he would still be vulnerable to the far blade end of the set.

The battle had only just begun and already the pit had taken its first victim. The crowd roared in loud cheers and boisterous jeers!! No doubt some nobles lost money while others were still yelling in excitement.

Previously circling around, Animus suddenly realized the Claymore refused to cut... as if melded into a new 'sheath'. Managing instead to turn Archibald's body counter clockwise as it fell limp, Miser instantly made a judgement. Using his superior strength and chi into a single step to transform his max speed into push strength, Animus forced the body forward shooting it like a cannon into the swinging chain's trajectory. And it flew freely... aiming to quickly catch Claire's wide area sweep letting it connect just as she intended; But would wrap around this carcass as substitute instead of Blaine.

Instantly!

Claire likely would electricute the body just as she planned. There was no reason to suggest that she would miss the opportunity or even hesitate. Since the smokescreen 'was still dense enough to block vision', it was impossible for her to see that she had caught the wrong guy - Archibald's carcass.

And the chain should wrap around - albeit from a distance she did not expect. For the chain would sweeped now even faster, by the physics, as if aiming to backfire and wrap around Claire's body on the return and to electicute her with her own attack. 'Should [s]he be just out of rage of a wrap up, [s]he would still be vulnerable to the far blade end of the set.'

Reviewing the battle thus far, Claire had previously stopped at a 'distance to a reasonable ten feet' from Blaine before 'Claire took a low eight foot swipe through the smoke'. Given eight is less than ten and given she swung the long chain thrice before the actual attempt... there was no way it could have caught the retreating Terrance. And now, if the wrap connected just as Claire attempted, the range would suddenly cut short missing Terrance even by the blade end.

Following quickly behind his Archibald-Cannon, Animus smoothly swept into his hand the dagger that previously bounced off his shield. While aware of his surroundings and aware that his partner had just begun his jog, Miser focused himself aiming to close in some distance without being caught by any attacks.

Quick hands had often saved Terrance's life and this was no exception. There was little he could have done to predict Archibald's uneventful death but had he been able to, he surely would have refrained from dodging his opponent and giving her ample time to catch him. Still, there was no use in dwelling on the past, it was time to correct the present. The chain would snag Terrance's lower waist, almost his thighs as he attempted to jog around the smokescreen. It was a rather "shocking" event to have Clair's attack snake out of his black hole. She certainly did move quickly and so as the chains wrapped around, Terrance was forced with a balancing issue followed by the electrocution. He didn't handle the first problem with much grace as his body tilted away from Clair and once the shocking began, Terrance's feet slid out from under him and he feel backwards in pain. His arm twitched but his hand remained firm, holding onto a small brown orb which he thrust into the chain that held him.

He was very quick about it, despite his not so graceful fall and the violent twitch that was forced through his body. The result was a transformation of the chain from metal to stone up to a length of five feet. The effect didn't quite reach Clair but it didn't truely matter because the stone transformation would only work on the object it was broken on which was the metal chain and Terrance's palm. Luckily, biological objects could not be altered by this tactic which left Terrance's hand in tact. Terrance assumed that Clair would be on the charge now, ready to finish off her caught fish but she probably wouldn't be expecting Terrance to have escaped from her electrical current. Terrance had enough time to withdraw his sword but he doubted he would be able to stand up before she reached him. This left Terrance with the unfortunate feeling of relying on his opponent to aid him. He didn't know how well he would be able to fend off this woman and stand up at the same time... such a shame to have to admit that.

The chain tensed up as it wrapped around Terrance's waist, and Claire wasted no time inserting her end of the set into the right holster. Like a lion hunting an injured prey, Claire burst through the smoke in the direction of the taught chain, leaving the knife inserted in the holster to keep a continuous charge sent into Terrance's system.

Upon exiting the smoke, she observed many things, none of which were good for her. First and foremost, the body of her ally had crash landed some twenty feet from her and Terrance. The fool was already dead, he couldn't even buy her enough time to dispatch the archer laying on the ground in front of her. Second, Animus had begun to close distance between himself and his ally. He would be close enough to intervene in about ten seconds. Third, and most importantly, Terrance had somehow turned the length of Claire's chain linked set wrapped around his waist to stone. Granted this would serve to restrict his movement, as it made for a rather heavy belt, but it also stopped the electrocution effect Claire was going for. Already he was drawing his sword, looking up at her in defiance. Claire took all this in at a glance as she exited the smoke. Knowing she needed to end Terrance quick, or maim him enough to not be a factor, she drew both Iron knuckle knives from her bandoleer and released the chain linked knife from the right holster before setting upon the man on the ground.

Sidestepping to Terrance's off sword side (Assuming left), just below his knees, she squatted a bit and brought the knife in her right hand down on the leg closest to her. In a vicious diagonal swipe, Claire aimed the knife to cut from inner kneecap to upper left thigh on the left leg, effectively severing several major muscles necessary for the leg to function.

Claire was no first timer to the pit however, she knew the best defense for Terrance would be to try an perform some sort of kick, especially since he was currently absent of any of his magical orbs. His poor positioning on the ground would make a sweep of Claire's careful footwork ineffective, and his buckler was likely out of reach of her current target. The sword would have to come fully cross body to block. Conscious of all this, Claire designated her lower left arm to counter the leg's movement should it try to avoid the fury of her right.

In a singular fight, Claire would have gone for the kill, but with Animus bearing down on her, she couldn't afford to get wrapped up or grabbed by Terrance's arms. Even if she did end up killing the man in fierce close combat, Animus would have a significant advantage in positioning and time, one that would likely end in her death.

Even now with the fight a two verses one, Claire wasn't willing to admit the match was tilting in favor of her opponents. No, she had waited nearly a decade to be released from this prison. She would be free again if it took every fiber of her being.