Looking for someone to help test a character build

Hey, its been awhile since I last had a battle. But I want to try out/finish this build so... what better way than to try it out in the battle arena? magic and melee are both welcomed. Preferably no grand AOE finishers although it is acceptable too. If anyone's interested, let me know and post a profile. thanks. Also I won't be using my normal full profile if anyone's wondering.

Rules:
-Need profile, if its not in your profile, please don't throw random hidden powers into the battle
-No godmodding
-I shouldn't need to say this but for the sake of saying, be mature and behave yourself I don't want to be ooc flaming every page or seeing stuff outside your profile
-Be literate, I'm not looking for a big essay (I don't mind, may take me longer to respond though) since its not school, but please don't post half a line of broken English.
-Your character can be as powerful as you like even godlike powers to some extent if you really want to push it. However no time control, no one-finger-blow-up-universe powers, no I-am-immune-to-all-powers. Be creative, if your creativity makes you powerful enough to repel every move I throw, I'm totally chill. If you just say, I'm god so your move doesn't work... well, please don't.
-Win or lose, I'm hoping we can finish the battle. If you aren't going to finish, please don't start
-My post rate will be approximately one to two posts every one to two days. I'm hoping yours is similar though its totally up to your discretion how often you want to post. Hopefully not once every 2 weeks though... if so, please don't even start.
-My character will be going through multiple phases throughout the battle and I'm hoping to be able to see him through to the end. That, however, will depend on how far your character can push him.
-Again, I'm looking for a good entertaining fight. This is my oldest character and also my most powerful. If you don't have confident to fight on par, well... ~insert polite smile here~
-Lastly, I wish you the best. Entertainment over victory, finish as friends not as foes. Any questions? please ask.

I accept your challenge! Like you just looking for some fun and good times. Don't care if we go to the death or submission. My posting rate is a little faster then yours, but thats ok I will conform to your speed no big deal. Anyways here is my character, he doesn't have any special powers, just a pure martial artist. Anyways good luck! Do you want me to set up the setting or are you going to do that?


Name: Gregory Pierchisten

Age: 28

Height: 5' 10"

Weight: 200

Weapons: Bamboo staff,with metal tipped ends, and dual hooked swords. Swords: http://www.gungfu.com/pics-general/pics ... n-hook.jpg

Appearance: Somewhat shorter then many men, but posesses a thick frame and stature reminiscent of an ox. Wears his blond hair in a short buzz cut, allowing easy sight for his grayish blue eyes as well as respite from the heat of fighting. When fighting he usually wears a hardened leather body armour with no sleeves, a loose pair of white, silken, leg length pants held up by a red silk sash.

Bio: Gregory is of Polish descent, growing up working in a mountain side farm where he developed his thick muscles. At the age of twenty-two he decided to travel, to fulfill his lust to see a new land. Boarding the first ship he could find he found himself in China, where he fell in love with martial arts. After studying various techniques he went off to participate in fighting tournaments developing his own unique style along the way. His style, which he calls Ken' Gi, is a sort of fast action boxing style relying on heavy quick blows to incapacitate his opponents, as well as quick footwork to stay out of harms way. He is also skilled in the use of weapons, especially staff weapons.

Pure martial arts? Alright, I guess I'll make a profile to match then. You can make the first post with setting.

Name: Phileo Arentus
Age: 28
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 180
Equipment: After having learned a minor fragment of the lost arts from a man known as the Devilsmith, Arentus acquired matching equipments to better match his style. Over his limbs Phileo wears clawed gauntlets reaching up to his elbow and also metallic boots protecting up to his knees. Extending from both armor are blades reaching to past the shoulder and the other protecting the calves respectively. Phileo carries with him an additional two nodachi for melee battles.
Appearance: Phileo carries silky black hair that drapes down to covering his ears and then neck. His eyes are that of crystal cerulean and his attire beneath the armor consists of simple garments. While his height is less than most combatants, the short stature allows for him to be more agile than most. His fighting style, though rather primitive, is none other than the lost arts Onizan.

OOC: I am a little confused about the blades mentioned. Are those swords strapped to his back and hip, or are they blades coming out of the armour?

Gregory Pierchisten sat on outer edge of the Ko'denshin Martial Arts Tournament fighting ring. His toes wriggled in the sand the inner ring was composed of, better to soak up any blood spilt and much blood had been spilt throughout the tournament. The ring was situated within a large pavilion, it's arching roofs and decorative pillars speaking of strong oriental influence.

Along the outer edge of the ring nobles and fighters from throughout the land sat watching, their benches and cushioned thrones situated upon hard cobble stones that signaled the boundary line the fighters in the ring could not cross. The onlookers had seen many a fight throughout the week and waited anxiously for this was the last fight of the tournament, a fight to death or submission, whichever came first.

After moving through a series of stretches, test punches and kicks Gregory stood picking up his weapon of choice a bamboo staff decorated with blood red scrollwork and steel tipped ends. Spinning it expertly around he ended in a fighting stance, legs spread wide, left leg leading and slightly bent, his right arm held before him for stabilization, and his left arm horizontal along his shoulder line. His left hand gripped the bamboo staff half projecting away from him the other half sliding underneath his armpit and behind his back. He could bring it around quickly for action from this stance. He smiled and gave a nod to his opponent, he was ready to fight.

((I'll describe it in more detail in my post))

::Phileo Arentus - Let the Game Begin!!::
Dark wind breezed over the horizon and the night sky grazed gently above. It was a black morning still early though closing in to the time of twilight. Contestants have already gathered for the tournament and the participants were waiting with impatience. The air carried with it an indescribable excitement as though every participating member were high on blood lust.

Arentus, too, had only just arrived for today's battle. His form is sturdy though clearly more agile than he was otherwise. Jet black hair draped down his brows and reached down over his eyebrows from the front and then his neck from the back. This would be a good opportunity to test out all the moves bestowed upon him by the one known as the Devilsmith. The arts that was rumored to subdue hundreds with a single punch, the strength that could shatter boulders... not that he was taught those specific moves but the forms should be enough. Though incomplete it was still his strongest weapon. Yes. The Onizan, even in this primitive form, will be sufficient.

Clank. The sound of boots against ground rung across the air. Clank. Slowly they moved with strength so certain of itself. Clank. The voiceless sound announced the entrance of the other fighter. Twilight rose from the darkness and a golden light filled the pavilion with a brilliant radiance.

From the ground metallic exposure gleamed with static excitement. A blade, like that of an ax, extended from those same boots and covered the calf section as extra protection. His garments were dull but seemed to glow in an unnatural orange under the brilliance of the rising sun. His gauntlets were of the same class with similar design fashioned by the wandering smith whose crafts were known to be unmatched. It too carried a blade each extending first from the wrist and then extending upwards to past the shoulders and were longer even than the nodachi that hung to the man's side.

His cold gaze scoured the battle field once more judging the ring as he did previously. A layer of sand was scattered over the solid ground. Looking at the state of the ring the sand must have been renewed since the last time he was here for there was no blood stains from all the hardships it had witnessed. Looking up the architecture was as it had been; grand in its own way though far too sophisticated for his limited mind. Phileo was never one to observe the arts.

With glares from all the men and women staring at him he felt, strangely, at ease. There were those he recognized from fights prior to this and there were others who had lost before they were given a chance to encounter Arentus. They were not participants this time around. No, they were only spectators. They are the audience watching this last fight of the tournament. It should be grand, it should be meticulous, it should be a battle more fierce and more exciting than all the others. After all, this was the last fight of the tournament.

Finally, Arentus' attention turned to the one already in the ring. His form was hard in position and his weapon was raised in ready position. This was the man named Gregory, the last obstacle between Phileo and total victory. Then came a smile and a nod from the man wielding the staff. Tension escalated and the audience held their breath waiting to witness the final battle.

Phileo smiled back. He was already used to the field and had tested the ground. Their gaze fixated on each other and an invisible aura rose around the field adding to the tension. Arentus' lips moved in a peculiar smile breaking the silence.

"Do go easy on me Pierchisten."

Yet his eyes told of a different story. The words from Phileo's mouth were merely those of common courtesy and customary in his own culture. Those empty words held no baring to the reality of battle unless Greg would allow it from his end. Phileo's eyes, crystal clear, expected Greg's best and nothing less.

With blades still in its place hidden in sheath, Arentus took a loose stance lowering his posture slowly. Those cerulean eyes closed at a memorizing pace and his chest inflated ever so slowly as Phileo took in a deep breath. The crowd watched as that same breath exhaled with the same agonizingly slow pace. Suddenly, with a single warning - a smile - Phileo burst from his position instantiating the battle.

His eyes never did resurface and his flying body was bent so low that it was parallel to the ground and might as well have been kissing it if not for the legs supporting behind. With one arm raised as guard, Phileo's feet refused him a linear path and forced Arentus' body left and right at irregular intervals sometimes faster ahead and sometimes not. The sand danced with staccato movements and his feet dug through into solid ground each time tapping no more than a split second. It is obvious to veterans that this man was well trained not to let himself be caught while breeching their distance. And certainly even combat amateurs can tell that his incredible speed was at least a direct result of his form and posture.

"Do go easy on me Pierchisten," Gregory's newly arrived opponent stated returning the polish martial artist's smile. "Ha! not after what I have seen you do to the rest of the competition." Gregory had been anticipating this fight since the beginning of the tournament singling out the short man quickly, mostly because of their similar short stature, and because of the odd armor the man war. Gregory wondered if the long blades sprouting from the man's boots and grieves were just for show or actual combat.

There was a brief pause as the two fighters sized each other up. In the time it took to blink Gregory's opponent was on the move, one instant he was standing still, the next sand was still falling to the ground where he had once stood. The Pole tensed, he knew he had to move, he had witnessed this speed before in previous fights. To stand still was to die, his legs pumping he sprinted to the right trying to keep track of the moving blur that was his opponent. He hoped Arentus would be moving to fast to alter his course, but for all he knew the swift fighter could be behind him about to slide a blade into his neck.

Gregory trusted his reflexes though and decided he could dodge any move before it struck. Halting his position along the adjoining right side of the ring he whipped his staff into a two-handed grip ready for defense. He would have to stay in defense until he could find a weakness in his opponent. It was easily apparent his foe had training superior to his own. Maybe if he kept the fight to the center of the ring he could inhibit the speed of Arentus, it was a thought at least. A light breeze played across the plaza, toying with his silken pants and sash. “Stay calm….,” Gregory muttered under his breath.

::Phileo Arentus - First Strike::

"Stay calm..."

A wry smile twisted itself over what his opponent witnessed as a blurred image.

"Are you sure..."

Suddenly, in the flash of a blur Arentus planted his palms on the ground just in front of Greg and coerced the incredible velocity into a quick redirection. There was never any delay in his movements and his petite build only increased his mobility.

From originally propelling his velocity those same heels rose like an arc and shot upwards like a bullet into the hollow between Greg's staff and torso. Yet as though that was not enough Arentus harnessed an even greater acceleration by forcing his body to spin akin to that of a bullet. With that same fluid motion, the accumulation of power, Arentus allowed his back face Greg while sending his heel point blank range towards Greg's jaws with a bone crushing force.

"...that's a good idea?"

There was a shift in the air about him, a flash of color, then a body before him sending a strike upwards. Gregory only had a split second to re-act, brain signals rushed out, muscles tensed, and his staff began to spin in his hands clockwise hopefully knocking away or entangling his assailant's legs. An image of his body flying out of the ring like a ragdoll flashed in the martial artists mind. If his defensive maneuver worked he would counter-attack bringing the staff forward in a rib cracking stab.

::Phileo Arentus - Death Strike::

Death be to thee whose eyes can see.

By the time Greg saw the attack it was already too late. Moving through Pierchisten's circled arms like a reversed dunk, Phileo's body effectively secured itself into a zone that the great staff could not reach precisely because of its size. Even as Greg begun to spin the large, certainly not light weight, weapon Arentus's move was showing fruitation. It was certainly different that Greg would try to spin his staff with a body's worth between his arms but despite the effort the speed and the choice of technique allowed Arentus' foot to strike its target shattering Greg's jaws before sending Pierchisten's head backwards by the impact.

The morning light shimmered against the silvery greaves as its ax-like ankle blade became tained red. A gasp broke through a few in the audience but others only murmured amongst each other at the sight they just witnessed. While the spinning staff may be advantageous at blocking projectiles coming from beyond the distance of Greg's arms it was hardly an effective move in situations like these.

Arentus' ankle blades rose with his body in the attack carving itself deep unto Pierchisten's chest before reaching the neck where the heels struck and passed the jaws. There was no rule against death in the tournament and blood was only to be expected in a challenge for the greatest.

Yet the battle was not quite over as Phileo's body continue to fly by the momentum he had collected. Akin to a real slam dunk Arentus' armored hands caught the rim, the spinning staff, as he passed. Yet rather than slipping by for a quick escaped Phileo sought it as an opportunity to make a quick finish. His legs wrapped around the staff like a gymnast's spinning and circling back for a heavy blow to Greg's torso aiming to translate all of the remaining velocity into blunt damage.

Speed Kills.

"No hard feelings." Phileo whispered softly.