An Open Challenge

LordSaladin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LordSaladin** on Mon Mar 12, 2007 6:39 am

The arena was empty now, the day's battles having all been finished, and the losers carried away to have their wounds tended. It had been an epic day, and all had left satisfied, even those who had failed to gain victory knew that they had been worthy opponents to their betters.

However, one man was not satisfied, and he hungered for battle.

The setting sun was now only it's own height above the horizon, and cast it's coral hues down upon the ancient arena, making the stone building seem to be aglow with fire. It had been a warm day, and the signs showed that the night would also be pleasant.

Walking through the winding corridors, the man unsatisfied had difficulty in hiding his displeasure at not having a single battle. His face showed only calm, his control over his outward emotions was masterful, but inside, he was a violent squall of anger and hunger, striving now for the adrenaline and feel of desperation of battle.

In his time as a fighter, he had faced many opponents, and now he knew that he could be called a fighter that could hold his own against many of those renowned in this land. Tonight, however, he would not settle for a simple battle that would be easily won, he wanted a challenge that would push his skills to their limits, and maybe even further.

His mind drifted back to a mighty battle in which he had faced six opponents at once, their powers all great, and he recalled the way in which he emerged victorious, the lives of his opponents all eradicated. In truth, he had not found that battle difficult, but merely a stretch on his brain, and time consuming.

The people he had fought in that epic battle, although powerful, were generally not the most skilled fighters that the world had seen, and was it not for their alliance and combined assault, it would have been finished with greater swiftness.

With an almost saunter, the tall man traversed the corridors and soon found the door that he had been seeking. His manner was more tahn confident, but in no way arrogant, as he pushed the door open and walked into the glowing arena of old.

As he gazed upon his surroundings with luminous orbs of sapphire, his sinuous lips of palest crimson curved slightly into a small smile. In the empty arena, he could feel the greatness of this now silent place. And he would also find greatness here this night.

Dressed all in black, a Mandarin suit fitting his heavily muscled form perfectly, also allowing for as much movement as was needed in battle, he paced towards the slightly raised platform that served as the place of battles in this great arena. His back was straight and head was held high, he walked with a gracefulness that spoke of agility hidden behind his greatly built, six foot seven inches tall figure.

The warm ground was easily felt through the soft soles of his black cloth shoes. They would offer more than sufficient support, and at the same time, allowed a great amount of flexibility in his feet. Stepping onto that platform now, he could feel the many battles through his feet, as though the renown was seeping from the ground, up into his feet and filling his body slowly.

In truth, he had now forgotten all thoughts of anger and displeasure, feeling a great amount of humility to be stood in this arena of legends. Turning slowly, he looked up at the tall, empty stadium, the many thousands of empty seats helped to add to the feeling of immensity that seemd to be natural upon these grounds.

His head now looked upwards at the orange tinted sky above him, and he smiled once more.

A blade was at his side, the hilt of gold, stylised perfectly as a dragon from legend, the scabbard wrapped tightly in white cloth, hiding whatever details adorned the scabbard. From the shape of the cloth covered leather, it was evident that the blade was long and elegantly curved.

Standing now, facing straight ahead once more, the man allowed his voice to escape his lips. Baritone were his vocals, and he knew his oration would be heard throughout the arena, if not further.

"I am Saladin Akara, and now I place a challenge to those of you revered in the world of fighters. Of this world I am new, and yet in my short time here, I have proved my skill as a fighter. It is now that I ask that three of you, three of the strongest fighters now face me on this ground that is almost holy. You will face me all at once, and whether I win or lose, I will be honoured to know I have fought with you. Now come, let me see my foes."

He stood now, perfectly calm, as was his voice, in silent waiting for the foes he knew would surely come.

A smile still adorned his features.

OOC: So, yeah, I am looking for good fighters only, as you can tell. I will allow you todecide whether you want a realistic or fantasy fight, with or without weapons etc. As I will, hopefully be fighting the more experienced people on here, I have no need to talk about God-modding etc! So yeah, post your replies, and let the fun commence.

Odin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Odin** on Tue Mar 13, 2007 11:10 pm

[PlaceHolder]

I'll be replacing this with my post pretty soon. I just don't want anyone jacking this spot ;-;

Edit: On second thought, I'll just post a new post, so you can see it show up.

Zeph Vidal · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeph Vidal** on Tue Mar 13, 2007 11:13 pm

[ A second place holder. ]

If two can be the limit, Saladin, that'd be cool.

[ This will be replaced by my post soon enough as well. ]

Odin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Odin** on Tue Mar 13, 2007 11:40 pm

(OOC: Fantasy and Weapons are fine with me.)

Periodic footfalls, the soft thudding resounding clearly within the arenaâ€™s confines, could be easily ascertained as a combatant made his way towards the arena from the main entrance; his form was gilded with light from the setting sun, granting him an aura that seemed almost celestial in faculty. What stepped through, of course, was a step down from the divine. He was a mortal, through and through.

A robe billowed at his feet gently, as if caught in a capricious zephyr though wind seemed to buffet none other than his form; an alabaster masked screened his countenance against the prying eyes of mortals and preternatural creatures alike.

With step that exhaled a silent and calmed authority, he rose to the arena on the extreme end opposite his opponent and merely allowed the warded visage, a stare as blank and unwavering as if the other were staring at the face of a mountain, regarded him coolly. It was impossible to discern where this man might be glancing, though the indentations that served as markers for his eyes made it rather clear that he was staring towards the other; nothing more than that was readily available.

All too suddenly, breathless whispers filled the arena, seemingly bombarding both of the men from all sides; they were distinct in that they could be hard, yet it was impossible to make out exactly what it is they murmured. Soon they rose in a harmonious cacophony before lowering rapidly; the last few words uttered came precisely from the robed man.

â€œAnd in the name of Gaia, may this land be blessed.â€?

He was not a man predisposed to signs of contemptuous pride; no dissertation would be given about how he was a superior combatant in comparison to his opponent, or how sure he was that the other would meet whatever false god he prayed to on this night. They both knew what the other was here forâ€¦no words need be exchanged.

Life began to flow in its accustomed stream; tendrils of energy unperceivable to the mundane eye began to wrap themselves around his entire body.

(OOC: Definitely not my best, but itâ€™ll get better as we progress, thatâ€™s a promise ^_^)

Zeph Vidal · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeph Vidal** on Wed Mar 14, 2007 12:52 am

Character Sheet: http://gwing.net/viewtopic.php?p=18186#18186

Zeph emerged from one of the arenaâ€™s smaller entrances. One foot was placed on this ground of war . . . and an analeptic feeling coursed through his body, as if death hadnâ€™t ever infected this place. Eyelids closed down on one another as he bathed in ecstacy, before they slowly opened back up to scan the current setting, not that he didnâ€™t know what was going to happen . . . already.

He could sense Odinâ€™s initialization before he stepped in here, and because the challenge issued by the other man didnâ€™t fall upon deaf ears it didnâ€™t take a scientist to figure it out. â€œIâ€™ll be the second, I suppose,â€? his voice rang out as an impetuous light revealed his figure. It was a man who stood significantly shorter than the challenger, standing at six feet and one inch. However, he didnâ€™t seem like he was subject to some sort of weakness because of his height. He â€“ like the other â€“ was as steady as a mountain, and as vicious as any thunder storm.

This one was clad in a thick, obsidian priest robe with gray lineaments on its surface â€“ and it was complete with gloves and boots composed of the same material. Even an obsidian cape flowed along behind him like silk, and that was also composed of the same material.

Those steps finally continued their course, guiding him towards his ally on his left side. Zeph stopped about fifteen feet away from him before he bent those arms over his chest, gaze aligned with Saladin. The ground around him burst into a tempest of green energy that surrounded his physique like a swirling fog in his body's awakening.

â€œWell, Iâ€™m ready.â€?

He reassured.

LordSaladin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LordSaladin** on Wed Mar 14, 2007 10:54 am

OOC: Ok, let us do this guys! I will take the two of you on, should be fun. And fantasy with weapons is Ok with me as well. Now it begins!

Calm filled the silver haired warrior as he silently observed the two men enter the arena. Battle, for him, was a joy. But he shut out all emotions when in the moments prior and during battles. His control was perfect.

From the land of Kelante, he was the ruler of that great world ((OOC: Not in the RP that is taking place, just for Zeph's info -- I am using Saladin as he is in the Wing City RP)), a master Warrior and the strongest Sorcerer except for his younger brother. A true Elementalist, he had mastered all elements, along with the forbidden power of Saidin.

The blade remained at his hip as he came into position, an almost ritualistic preparation for battles such as these. Or at least, he would have gone into position, except for the green light surrounding the second man to enter the arena. It appeared to Saladin taht this would be a battle of Sorcerery, this suited his mood well.

As he looked at the two, his muscles bulging, a small smile adorned his seemingly carved facial features. The time for battle was near, Saladin was well aware of this, and he knew that soon he would be unleashing his power.

The two opponents appeared confident and calm, without showing any emotions. Their calm didn't matter to Saladin. He knew that Fate was on his side, that fair lady had blessed him for many years, and had not once let him down. Saladin carried the knowledge though, that should that fickle lady leave him this day, his skill would bring him through the battle and allow him to leave the victor.

Standing perfectly still and erect, Saladin simply allow his gaze to meet halfway between them. His manner spoke well of his time on his homeworld, where he ruled as the single strongest man there, and his confidence seemed to radiate from him.

No outward symbol was revealed to show that the great fighter was in preparation, but he silently called his Elementals forth, and reached out for Saidin. That ever present, always tempting power was like a light eternally just out of his field of vision. He was well aware of the dangers of Saidin, and it's overuse. He did, however, have control, and could handle much of that great power without facing danger. He left the power in an instant's reach, ready now to call it forth in a moment's notice.

His eyes did, however, give away his preparations for this battle. But only to the most observant. The luminescence of those sapphire orbs increased only slightly, barely noticable in the light of the setting sun. Perhaps the opponents would see, perhaps not. It bore no relevance in the mind of Saladin.

In his mind, strong and calm, Saladin began to run through many battle strategies, thousands running through his mind in an instant as his subconscious prepared his body for the impending test of his skills.

The many years he had spent in the apprenticeship of both Guilds meant that he had great knowledge, not only of battle tactics, but of weapons, and of magic. His command of the Elementals within him was absolute, he worked with them in perfect harmony.

Now he was ready, those moments of silence spent in an ensurance that his emotions were kept from his awareness.

"Come at me."

The baritone vocals once more escaped the man, although, in this oration, carrying only the volume needed for the two opponents to hear him. No more was needed now. For those with a deep insight, it was a perfect example of the total control Saladin held over his body. Calm and empty was his voice, and as expected by the leader of a great people, held a hint of command, and an intonation that he expected his command to be obeyed immediately.

Now, patiently, he awaited his foes' attacks, knowing that they would certainly obey his words.

For those who could see Saladin, he seemed much like a statue, arms left by his sides, seemingly relaxed, he was more than ready for any assault that the two would bring to him.

OOC: Ok, I only thought this whilst writing the post, but... if another wishes to join you can do, just jump into the battle, it will make it more fun!

Odin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Odin** on Wed Mar 14, 2007 6:38 pm

â€œCome at you? Haha!â€? It was not a laugh that held the biting tone of arrogance; it was a laugh replete with altruistic laughter, a chuckle who had a clear implication but didnâ€™t seem insulting in the least.

â€œDonâ€™t worry, your death will come all in due time. My! Iâ€™ve never met one so ready to meet death before you, fallen.â€? He shook his head, gentle locks of straw-blonde hair were tussled to and fro, though majority of his hair stayed pressed to his head thanks to the circumference of the mask.

Odin had foregone the benefits given to him by sight, his mask made sure that his mortal vision was blind to the world; because of this, his other senses had been honed to needle-point accuracy and, among them, were the ability to merely sense the weave of the arcane. He missed what Saladin had been preparing, however, for his vision was muddled with the storm of energy before him; his own.

The ethereally effervescent tendrils swirled around him, their tips coalescing within one another to form a solid, spherical shape surrounding Odinâ€™s form and extending 5 feet from his person; to those whom held perception steps beyond mortal keenness might be able to note a slight iridescent sheen to the barrier which surrounded Odin which gleamed in the light for but a second before disappearing â€“ the might note the distinct smell of ozone rolling from his form in waves.

The other was obvious a user of the elements; it could be descried from calm with which he approached the world, the ineffable confidence and near whimsical ease with which the other merely accepted his fate around those numerous titans of power that surrounded him on all sides. Odin was something of an elementalist himself, but he bore his pride as a badge which marked only the earth. There was a considerable difference in power however; Saladin would meet no other absolute master of the earth besides Odin himself. The reason was simple; they both spent great resources, endless hours, they were both adept at learning tactics of belligerence, of sword and shield and fist and words. But, Saladin spread his focus among four elements; Odin centered his attention on just oneâ€¦and that is what made the mancer.

â€œReady?â€? The question posed with the lilting tone of musing and curiosity.

Right hand raised passively, a fluid motion which turned his wrist slightly, and then pressed outwards; his palm forced itself upon air as if suddenly meeting a glass wall. A rumble shook the arena for a moment as a spear, a javelin that still held connection to its mother, was shunted from the area 5 feet to Saladinâ€™s front and its tip held every intention of piercing his torso.

Zeph Vidal · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeph Vidal** on Wed Mar 14, 2007 7:19 pm

OOC: A'ight, Saladin.

Where Odin revealed his amusement, Animus kept his own housed within. There was no smile, no veritable gesture, just an interrogative gaze with his head tilted to the side. Piercing pools of sight were scrutinous enough to convey to the opponent . . . that he wasnâ€™t convinced, nor compelled by his demands. It took more than a daring challenge to impress Zeph â€“ it took a substance that Saladin didnâ€™t even look like he possessed.

The swirling green tempest started to hone in on his body, slipping into the dark confines of his thick obsidian robe. A small flash of green luminescence cast a constant shine on the darkness, leaving a green glow to emanate from the robeâ€™s internal pathways. He was simply . . . bright â€“ enriched with earthen minerals that would â€“ without a doubt â€“ help him as the fight progressed.

â€œReady?â€? Odin's words rung out.

The posture of his head straightened out, but his arms never fell from his chest. As Odin lifted up that single, destructive hand, one kneecap bent to lift his right foot. Animus stomped the ground and followed up by pressing his weight down upon it, intents were carried out by a spiritual representation of his will.

The grains of dirt positioned under the opponent started to break down into a thinner, less supportive form. If he attempted to jump, he would find that the momentum of his legs would drive the slab of earth he stood on deeper into the ground, and into a knee-deep prison of what seemed like quick sand. Odinâ€™s javelin commanded impressive speed, in which case . . . the required kinetic force for a simple dodge would most likely push him into the quicksand prison, as well.

Saladin was not dealing with just one opponent that was prominent with the use of the earth, he was facing two. He had better figure something out, or be impaled.

Holdesta · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Holdesta** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 2:38 am

Sitting in the shadows of the stands Holdesta watched softly as the black clad man entered the arena. She could sense his need for battle...so strong it made the air sizzle. Holdesta shivered from the strength of the feeling as her eyes shone gold telling of her use of power. Red curls fluttered in the warm breeze as they lapped at her sholders. Her body was sheethed in white dragon hyde...pants and bodice. Her arms were bare but for the forearm covers laced up to below the elbow. She smiled as she reached unobtrusive tendrils into this man's mind. She felt his respect for the place of battle.

Upon his challenge she smirked and rolled her eyes. Men had such a need to proclaim thier supiriority prior to battle. And they took it soooo seriously. But he looked as though he had the right. He was well built and quite attractive. Holdesta awaited to see if anyone else would meet his challenge.

Two came both seemed well trained...powerful...but also too serious. Deciding she simply must show these men the lighter side of things Holdesta made a quick move.

She was down between the challengers the spere still quivering in her hand. She had materialised near it and caught it mid flight. A trick she had learned from an old friend. She laughed brightly and stood with her back to Saladin and facing Odin and Zeph. " ladies first..." she nearly giggled. She was amused at her situation...she was unsure whom she would fight now. She also had no intention of killing or being killed. She only wanted to fight...a showcase of skill. She stood firm a pair of sais crossed on her back and three blue scars on her sholder, the only signs of her many battles. Holdesta Lady of Light had an unusual power base.

As a baby this mortal girl's village had been destroyed she the only survivor. She was merly a babe when a knight brought her to the ancient healers' compound. The Ladies of Light were master healers sworn to peace. They used the blood of a Dragon to heal the nearly dead baby. This left Holdesta with semi telepathic powers and unknown extended life. Her Dragon was forever linked to her. Great One went with her every where. The teen was trained as a Lady of Light until she was kicked out of the compound when the Ladies discovered her need for battle and adventure. Dispite incomplete training Holdesta was a mistress of Light and healing. After leaving the compound at thirteen she was adopted by the fallen angle Rose of the Fallen and taught hand to hand combat. Her sais were her favorite weapons and had been with her since thirteen.

Now the young woman faced the two earth elementalists calmly and with an air of excitement. She loved fights. Standing 5'3" though all of the men towered over her. They all looked to be stringer than her too but battle was about more than stature and strength.

Holdesta dropped the spere and took out her sais awaiting any reaction...

LordSaladin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LordSaladin** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 6:53 am

And so it began.

The words of the other failed to reach the ears of the silver haired warrior. His chuckle passed by deaf ears, not in any restricting affliction, but by choice. The challenge gad been placed, the command given. He would speak no further words, nor hear any.

The soft soles of his feet betrayed the attempt of the pair to trap him in what would certainly be his demise. However, he was too clever, his mind too well trained thanks to many battles fought, many battles won.

It seemed that, as the spear flew through the air towards him, the pair had severely underestimated Saladin. It was true that the spear was indeed travelling through the air with great speed, but Saladin had the time needed to act. Heis body was well tuned to the world around him, and as the vibrations of the air gave away the position of the spear more so than his vision, his dextral hand came to grasp the spear, just below the razor sharp, deadly head of the weapon.

Massively powerful arm muscles stretching the silken fabric of obsidian easily stopped the spear in it's trajectory, although it was stopped with only a single instant to spare. The point of that head a matter of millimetres from touching the slightly loose garments adorning the man.

It was at that point the third opponent appeared, and Saladin, now in battle thought of one thing only, ictory. He had chosen to fight three, and it seemed he would indeed get that wish. In the smae swift movement, the spear was thrown behind Saladin, un-needed.

Stood in that precarious position, he knew that, for the moment, he would be able to stand upon the ground without fear of sinking. Now, in preparation, he took a firm grasp of Saidin, the power that so temptingly called out to him.

As he took a hold, an aura of pure white surrounded him, nay, as yet it was merely a nimbus, but still, the ight contrasted greatly with the pitch of his clothes, and along with his silver hair, made him look almost angelic. Oh, should he have need to reveal what was the curse of his family, now healed, and complete that angelic appearance.

He prepared weaves of Air and of Fire, Spirit mixing with the Fire in the complicated weavings, ready to fall into place in a moment's notice. Saidin, that great power, the True Source, seemingly unknown of on this world, Saladin knew that the weaves could not be seen by any but another who could weild that force.

An observance of the new entrant showed a girl who was skilled, Saladin always had an eye for such things. The weapons she held were foreign to him, but they seemed like strangely crafted daggers. Why was she facing the two others, did she not realise that Saladin was here to fight all that would appear.

Now he waited once more, hoping that the two men would realise that he had earned his position as ruler of his homeworld, not through anything but skill, and the respect he had earned was also through hard work and nothing more.

In their feeble attack he was, in truth, rather insulted, but would allow the two to be humoured for now. Tacics were his mainstay, and perhaps this newcomer, although an enemy would prove useful without knowing it.

At the back of his mind, Saladin knew that this was indeed a fight to the death for all involved, and he knew that he would emerge the victor, or he would die. But, so far, he didn't feel as though the ever fickle Fate had left him. He truly loved that woman, but was always weary of her tendency to be fickle.

What would happen now? Once more he stood in a relaxed manner, not arrogant, not pompous, just relaxed, in total silence. What would be the next onslaught? Hopefully, it would provide slightly more of a challenge than the pathetic spear attack.

Odin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Odin** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:10 am

(OOC: Iâ€™m usually lenient with what I do but, you said you wanted a challenge, so I wonâ€™t lack. I have three caveats to mention: First, in order to sense an object by vibrations traveling through the medium (in this case air), the vibrations need to travel faster than the object itself. A javelin, a piercing weapon, wouldnâ€™t give off vibrations faster than its movements. Second, â€œstill held connection to its motherâ€?, clearly indicative that it still held connection from where it was born, so you canâ€™t just throw it away. Third, in order to stop something that has momentum, youâ€™d have to â€œgroundâ€? yourself, so if you plan on grabbing the javelin, the momentum is transferred out through your feet, and you fall through the trap set by my friend.)

Perhaps the combatant would have had the chance to prepare his mystical arcane, magic that was meant only for him and his, and would be able to surprise the othersâ€¦if he ever got the chance to progress that far through the timeline. No, he would find that the challenges set before him, that the attacks which he regarded with a sense of superiority, were much more lethal than they appeared to be at first glance.

Saladin met the earthen spear with an admirable display of strength; fingers grasped the shaft of the deadly lance and stayed its forward charge for a momentâ€¦and not a moment more. The other had impressive power, this was true, but the earth had so much more weight than he that, after a secondâ€™s delay, the strength was negligible. Fingers would grind against the exterior of the lance as it continued to slide forward and it meant to pierce the man through the very chest.

Suddenly, a newcomer had introduced themselves to battle; a female with striking red hair.

â€œWhy, look!â€? It was clear who he was talking to, though he seemed to go out of his way not to mention his comradeâ€™s name; he had dealt with a mage, before, who could exercise great feats of magic from the name of a creature alone â€“ he would not make the same mistake twice.

â€œAnother fighter? I thought we were only to fight one man, not that Iâ€™m complaining!â€? Laughter, once more; he displayed such expressions of glee as if the entire purpose of this day was merely to have fun. Any that could glance upon him outside of the arena might wager a guess to Odin being in the middle of a festival or something akin.

â€œWelcome miss!â€? He called out to her, his right hand coming to cup over a nonexistent mouth, a countenance shrouded by that mask. â€œIâ€™m sorry that you have to die!â€? He nodded definitively, as if this were merely a fact of life, while his hand fell back to his side.

The sphere surrounding him extended 5 feet more with a sudden pop and a swirl of prismatic energy; the smell of ozone grew stronger.

His left hand came out and fingers rigidly extended then came to close around an invisible sphere, much akin to the first movement he had done in this battle; rivulets of crimson ambient energy would begin to channel into the center of his hand, diverted from the great and near-unending pool of energy that saturated the world. Like ribbons, they swirled around his arm and compacted themselves to form a cerise sphere well within his grasp.

Holdesta · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Holdesta** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:13 am

(OOC :Umm hello guys Er....didn't I grab the spear before it reached you? That was the whole point of how... I... entered... >_< I came in...grabbed the spere and then dropped it....that's why I was not sure whom I'd fight....I am confused)

Odin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Odin** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:18 am

(OOC: Sorry to say, I just went with what the latest post said, even though I did note what you did. I thought you had both discussed what happened and worked something out.)

Holdesta · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Holdesta** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:22 am

OOC: Er...Ok Got it! How about we say You sent two spears one Saladin caught and one I caught. No big to me

They are too big of chunks to rewrite. We will just glare at Saladin for a moment hehe

Odin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Odin** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:29 am

(OOC: That's fine with me, though I must stress the fact that the spear which Saladin is dealing with is not a projectile, but connected to the earth, so it cannot simply be tossed aside.)

Zeph Vidal · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeph Vidal** on Thu Mar 15, 2007 7:57 pm

OOC: Alright, Iâ€™m going to go ahead and clarify what should happen next. Since Holdesta acted the same way Saladin did, the same thing that occurred to Saladin will occur to her as well. The earthen javelin will continue its path onward while in her grip in an augmented attempt at impalement.

IC:

Serious? Perhaps Zeph was -- but he was the type of person who wasnâ€™t easy to read. He was definitely excited about the whole ordeal, he just didnâ€™t show it as much as Odin did.

Aside from that, the entrance of the new warrior went on perceived. It was through some method of teleportation . . . such a distasteful technique to use during a fight. Well, it -was- just her entrance -- and well . . . Zeph knew he shouldnâ€™t jump to judgements about that just yet, not until she used it to escape certain loss without accepting defeat afterwards. And she hadnâ€™t done that just now, so it was irrelevant at this point in time.

Her presence wasnâ€™t a priority now . . . because Saladin had just made one big mistake. He may not have moved, he may not have provoked the earthen slab he was standing on . . . but that didnâ€™t mean Zephâ€™s influence wasnâ€™t there anymore. The trap was a product of preparation, which meant that any further control of that at this moment would increase Zephâ€™s lethality with it. He should have left nonetheless! The earth fell immediately! It didnâ€™t sink, it fell as if it was pulled and gave enough room for Saladin to be shin deep in earth â€“ before he could waste time summoning a nimbus. As soon as the slab started to fall, dirt simultaneously sought to crawl up his legs to hold him in place!

Zephâ€™s hands fell off his chest, and one was held outward . . . open palm. The hand immediately closed, and it was as if he crushed a nonexistent tomato in his grasp. It was a psychosomatic action that willed the earth on Saladinâ€™s legs to crush with what seemed like the potency of some new-age machine. It wouldnâ€™t be delightful in the least . . . aside from Odinâ€™s javelin.

LordSaladin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LordSaladin** on Fri Mar 16, 2007 5:51 am

OOC: Ok, I apologise guys, I guess I didn't completely understand what was happening with the whole spear thing.. in truth I sit on the internet in the library, and having only limited time a day, I try to get things done as quickly as I can. I will go through with what you guys say, as I have yet to read the next actual post!

Zeph Vidal · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeph Vidal** on Fri Mar 16, 2007 4:20 pm

OOC: No worries, no worries, you haven't done anything to give explanations for. ^_^ By the way, we should make a posting order. It'll go: Zeph, Holdesta, Saladin, Odin, since Holdesta entered right after I posted, and the rest went on from there. I hope that's okay. If it's a'ight, go ahead and post, Holdesta! ^_^

Holdesta · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Holdesta** on Sat Mar 17, 2007 12:02 am

Holdesta had ment to throw the spear away but as soon as she let go it continued on it's way toward Saladin. oops thought Holdesta kicking herself for not feeling the earth connection. She eyed the two warriors and cracked a smile at Odin's greeting. " And good evening to you sir...sorry there will be no death near me today. You have been missinformed" Holdesta liked Odin they were somwhat alike. When she glanced at Zeph she heard his disapproval as if he had said it out loud. " I never run from defeat" Holdesta quietly whispered.

Holdesta sensed Saladin could take care of himself...but she was still unsure of whom to fight. She was great at fighting bad at picking fights. A small gust of wind blew against her skin...the air had cooled as the sun had set. The arena was getting very dark

" How about some light?" Holdesta took her sias Lite them and drove them into the ground hard. A beam shot out two ways from her along the earth. It circled all the warriors growing to a bright white. The illumination showed off the brilliance of her firey hair and the brilliance of the sand covered ground. " How beautiful..." Holdesta breathed nearly forgetting her companions as she saw the arena shimmer. She loved this desert town it's beauty like no other place on earth.

Holdesta looked about and promply knelt down...waiting. "your move boys."

LordSaladin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LordSaladin** on Sat Mar 17, 2007 6:50 am

OOC: Yeah, that seems fine to me. I won't be able to post now until Monday at the earliest, just so that you are aware people -- libraries don't open on Sundays!

The spear, redirected, although still connected to the ground, was a starnge thing, but the redirection put Saladin into safety for a moment, the discarding of the spear unsuccessful though.

Being an Elementalist himself, he was more than aware of the situation of the ground beneath him. And he too was prepared for what could be considered inevitable. The second man that appeared seemed to be somewhat sly in his tactics, but for Saladin, that was Ok.

As the earth fell, Saladin did have an instant in which to defend himself. The threads of Saidin he had prepared, were now used, within that instant placed with perfect precision, Air was wrapped around his body, leaving a small amount of space around his form, perhaps an inch or two.

The sheild of Air was like an impenatrable shield, but he knew that he had not channeled enough of the True Source for the sheild to be in place for long. It did, however, give him enough time to allow his wings to unfurl.

White, and leather like, thick, the wings unfolded, ridges along them looking much like bones, and would provide articulation for the twenty foot wide appendages. The wngs tore through the clothes of the silver haired man, and contrasted greatly with the obsidian attire.

He knew that, for now, the shield would hold, and prevent the earth from surrounding him.

The girl, creating the light, seemed to be rather unserious about this whole endeavour, so Saladin decided to let her know that this was a serious event, and that he was here for business, not to be entertained by light shows.

Rather than using the threads of Fire he still held in preparation, he called upon his Elementals, and sent a bolt of lightning towards the girl, he sent the bolt through with enough force to kill the woman, and he waited now.

Tactical lessons were what he enjoyed the most in the Academy. And so, tactics ran through his head now, he knew that he would beat the three, no matter what he would have to do. As of yet, he had not drawn his blade. Would it come to that? Who can tell. Perhaps.

An Open Challenge

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An Open Challenge

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