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First rule of fight club [Mission]

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1 First rule of fight club [Mission] on 05/03/14, 06:54 am

Zander

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There are certain times in life where you just have to sit down, look at yourself, and then wonder exactly what the bloody fuck just happened. That situation was one that Alek was in right now as he stood in the ring, poised against some ugly little git with a mustache so stereotypically evil that it was actually hard not to believe that he hadn't been declared the "most evil looking git" in any competition that he ever entered, even if that was not an actual category. Hell, he could have entered a beauty pageant and still somehow come out with the identification "most evil looking git".

A day or so ago Alek had been riding across an empty plain looking for the dungeon and now he was in some seedy backroom fight club, wondering exactly why they were having to make a port of call in the capital. They were trying to be sneaky, it truly seemed like the last thing someone who wanted to avoid attention would do would be to walk right into the capital and try and feed the horses. Seriously! They could have just gone to one of the small villages, somewhere where having an entire horde of Fanalis approach them would be so scary they'd have just ran away from their crop and left the horsefeed so they could have it for free, but no, they were having to pay and he was having to earn money for it. He could just imagine Sara grinning like an idiot. 

His mood was so foul that, the moment the match began, he didn't even bother being nice about what he was having to do. all he had to do was win a few matches, so how hard could that be exactly? A simple move to the side and a slam to the back made the man cry out, before falling face first onto the ring. Since he couldn't actually move with that little injury, the referee declared it Alek's victory and ushered him onto his second opponent. Hopefully this guy wouldn't look quite like a twit.

350/1000 

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Zander

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Well, his wish came true. As the ref announced that his next opponent would be some poor bugger who was given the unfortunate name of "Jazz", apparently by parents that hated his guts or something, the guy stepped into the ring. He looked like a proper swordsman, toned but only just, with a long steel sword popping up from its sheath on the man's back. 

The way that he smiled made it phenomenally clear that this guy was not the kind of person that sane people would trust with anything even closely resembling a pair of scissors, lest he run with them. There was something sadistic about the smile that was plastered across his face, maybe it was the fact that he was fighting an "Unarmed" opponent whilst he had a broadsword? Or maybe it was just the chance to fight a Fanalis. 

Moving forwards, Alek swung a fist at the man, which was easily parried by the sword. However, neither man came off the worse for the ware because of it, much to the surprise of the man that he was fighting. He had just blocked with the length of his blade, if it were to be pressed against with the force that he had just done it, it should have cut through his hand like raw butter. Alek, for his part, only thanked the gods that he had designed Geas all those years ago. It kept people from knowing him, and it made sure that he wouldn't just end up a particularly delicious looking Fanalis steak. 

The man laid blow after blow against him, causing the sound of metal against metal to ring out throughout the club, Geas blocking the blade with every thrust. the man seemed to be unaware that it could not have stopped him if he manipulated his magoi, or maybe he was just too weak to do something like that. Either way, when he pulled back for another strong blow, Alek moved into the end game. Slamming his fists against the man's shoulders, knee caps, and dodging around to hit him in the back, he sent the guy flying out of the ring with powdered bones. God help him get better from that one quickly, because magic was going to hurt. 

727/1000

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Zander

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The final match was something a little bit more interesting. And by little bit more, I of course mean "lightning bolt knuckleduster wielding clusterfuck". If it wasn't for that recently learned ability of his to turn almost literally into stone, then Alek would be pretty damned screwed. The match began like all the others, and it was only through luck, good timing and the fact that he cheated slightly by manipulating his magoi before the match actually began that allowed him to get his armor up in time before the first knuckleduster hit him square in the face like a tonne of bricks. Knocking him back slightly, the lightning danced off his face, not piercing his skin, instead just trailing off like he was some sort of insulator. 

The man slammed again and again, each punch knocking Alek back slightly more, as if he were trying to literally force him out of the arena rather than win the fight. So, since Alek had no time to wait on this idiot who didn't seem to notice that "punching stone is a recipe for a sore hand", he decided to stop holding back, his throat opening like some sort of gaping maw. Within a single, terrifying, second a gigantic burst of energy shot out of his mouth, an eardrum bursting scream accompanying it as he went flying out of the ring, against the wall, and fell down it, landing on his ass and just lying there because it was actually impossible to get up any more. 

"I think I'll be taking that money, now."

1000/1000

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