An RPG detailing the aftermath of the events of PoP3 and the events before PoP4
 
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 Arena II

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Saeros
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PostSubject: Arena II    Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:03 pm

reserved?
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DrSane
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PostSubject: Re: Arena II    Fri Aug 10, 2012 12:17 am

Arena 2!

Map (to be updated in a few days time to something a tad more interesting)
Spoiler:
 

Special rules:

The sand is tedious, and difficult to move through it will take a turn to get to the grass, which acts as normal ground. Apart from this the two teams approach from opposite sides, and have a perfectly equal arena to fight in.

For perspective: The grass takes up half the width of the arena, and is situated in the middle, so it would take one turn of trudging through the sand to get to the grass, but once there you would be able to sprint across the grass in a turn. So essentially with the sand it makes it take three turns to cross the arena instead of 2.


Last edited by DrSane on Mon Aug 13, 2012 9:06 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Arena II    Mon Aug 13, 2012 9:03 pm

Keen McKeen sits alone on a small table, a delicately embroidered serviette tucked neatly in his shirt. He looks down onto the arena under his charge, his half moon spectacles precariously dangling from his nose as he surveys the two teams bristling to fight from behind their opposite gates.

"Hurrumph, a grandmaster and a cripple, fighting, in the arena!?" He uttered to the world as a whole, raising his tiny cup to his lips. SNNNNNNNLLLLLLLUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP The sound of his final sip reverberated around the stadium. "I do say, what uncivilised practices are we allowing in this arena these days, i have half a mind to call it all off-"

A chorus of booo's and jeers resounded around the second arena. McKeens faced flushed red in anger and he was about to stand and bellow down the crowd when a nut shell hit him in the back of the head, to laughter and applause.

"Very well, you louts!"

McKeen produces out from his table a small scroll, which he flourishes in the air to silence. Creaking it open at a snails pace, the audience inches forward in anticipation to the beginning of the match.

"We have among us today, a battle, nay, an artwork, of chivalry and grace! From the paragons of this fine art we expect such great things! Cunning ripostes! Coup de graces! Counters, blocks stuns and flourishes! Oh my word..." McKeen sways for a moment, his face a picture of bliss. "Oh I am most dreadfully sorry, I worked myself up there."

"Just start the bloody thing you daft old bat!" shouted out someone from the crowd.

Suddenly leaping on to the railing, unexpectedly for someone so old, McKeen grasped the wood and began his introduction:

"Today gentleman and ladies of the kingdom, we have before us a true spectacle! Youth, fighting dogged ancient experience! From the lands of the empire, we have Theo Venator, captain of the silvermist rangers! Crusader to old truths and hidden meanings! Fighting alongside this brave ranger is an equally brave knight from the north, Sir Azrael of the Griffons! The lore master and lord of the forge!"

The cheering reached a fever pitch, for the warriors themselves and for the start of the battle.

"But can these clever young men each defeat their respective elders from their own order!? Presenting the presently debilitated Commander Renault of the Griffons! A Kings hearthman, the Griffons living relic!"

A cabbage flew out from the audience, hoping to hit McKeen and knock him from his perch into the arena. Astoundingly to everyone watching, his small rapier seemed to fly from his scabbard and cut the cabbage in two. Not halting in his speech, his voice approached a crescendo:

"Caranthir, the righteous ranger, grandmaster of the Silvermist! Scourge of the Jatu and protector of the east!"

McKeen placed his leg up further on the rail, and striking what he thought was a heroic pose, flourished his sword one last time before holding it directly up to the dazzling sun.

"Gentlemen! Begin the battle!"

He swung his sword down, and the crowd exploded as the gates slammed open and the contestants rushed in to begin the match.


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Saeros
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PostSubject: Re: Arena II    Wed Aug 15, 2012 3:27 am

Theo enters the Arena calmly. He quickly scans the environment, his enemies, and smiles slightly when he sees their weapons. He turns to the side to whisper something to Sir Azrael, and then raises his shield in a defensive position, walking forward, attentive to every move of his enemies. Having reached the grass, he positions himself at one of its corners, always keeping his guard up.








[OOC:]

"Crusader to old truths and hidden meanings!" I liked that!

Hey, Pravenstern, I just realized that we're two scholars (of sorts) fighting ultra-veteran fighters. Is the pen really mightier than the sword? Let's find out!
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PostSubject: Re: Arena II    Wed Aug 15, 2012 5:18 am

Sir Azrael whispers something back to Theo. Ignoring the ever-watching crowd he takes a good look at his enemies' weapons and nods to himself. Just as planned. At least for the weapons that is. They would be a daunting foe. He could tell from experience that Reanult was more than formidable opponent. And Caranthir's fame was more than likely earned. However, Azrael and Theo would have other advantages over their adversaries...











OOC-Saeros: It is. Sadly, we don't have any pens to wield. Heresy, I tell you!

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PostSubject: Re: Arena II    Sun Aug 26, 2012 1:15 am

The battle had begun, Renault drew one of his four javelins and handed it to Caranthir, he then managed to take one step to the bottom of the arena. Meanwhile Caranthir almost seemed to leap across the sand, his speed appearing magical to most eyes, drawing up to a halt, he loads, draws, aims and fires at Theo in a heartbeat. Theo had been cautiously moving towards the top of the grass and seeing his grandmasters movement and notched arrow he turns his shield to face him, a heavy thunk echoes of his shield around the arena. He notices the screams of the crowd to late, as Renault, who had suitably anchored his leg, has thrown a mercifully blunt javelin at theo's thigh. As it painfully connects, the groans of sympathy erupt from the audience, as well as a startled: "My Word!" from McKeen.

Azrael looks to see his partner, who is still standing, but has shifted all his weight onto his other leg. The still throwable javelin lies on the ground next to him, as well as a broken arrow. Azrael himself has reached the bottom of the grassy square.


positions:

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PostSubject: Re: Arena II    Tue Sep 25, 2012 4:31 pm

The audience's cries sound again as Caranthir sprints off once more, further around the arena. Theo, half lowers, half collapses to the ground, reaching out to grab the javelin near him and heaving his shield over his head and torso- to block any arrows from Caranthir. The crowd started jeering down towards Theo, and you hear the indignant McKeen: "Get up you bounder and have at them, not nap time now old boy!" Mustering all his speed, Sir Azrael started running between Renault and Theo. He could just hope that he would be there in time. Fortunately he was looking at Renault out of the corner of his eye, and lowers his shield, catching the javeling in the bottom, but to the audience's glee, the javelin splintered into the wood, sticking there. Meanwhile Caranthir ground to a halt and fired off another blurring shot, Azrael attempts to heave his shield up, but the added wieght both hampers and saves him. His head moves downwards towards the shield in his efforts, and the arrow glances of the side of his skull. The bloodthirstier parts of the crowd shout out profanities as the arrow spins away, flinging tufts of hair and blood into the stands. Azrael stumbles into his position and feels the red liquid begin to pour down his left ear and neck.

Caranthir draws another arrow and Renault grasps his final javelin, their beleaguered opponents stand between them, bruised and bloody.



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