Strongest Under The Sun

Outside the city of Heliohapt one would normally find barren dunes of sand and dust. But today things were a bit different. A large area had been cleared of any obstructions and a large stage made of stone was constructed. The stage was for a competition named Strongest Under The Sun and many warriors from across the region have gathered to participate and prove themselves stronger than any other.

Those who were confident in their skill would find sign ups were simple. One only had to turn in a will in the event mortal injuries were sustained even though the rules did not require a death for there to be a victor. In fact, all one has to do in order to win a match is knock their opponent unconscious or send them out of the ring. The arena itself was a 30m diameter circle and had a small 20cm lip at the edge to help competitors refrain from stepping off the combat area by mistake.

The matches had yet to begin but many people had already gathered to watch warriors clash head to head in a bout that was sure to be sung about for ages to come.

Ilirran woke up in the stable he had sneaked into the night before. Remembering the tournament, he leaped up from his bed of hay and made his way to the main roads. There were many people milling about as he passed through the main city gates. A large stone stage was set up outside of them, with an area to sign up.

Walking up to the booth, he slammed his fist to his chest, he introduced himself. "I, Ilirran Iskam, wish to fight in this tournament." He loomed over the person sitting at the booth, casting a shadow over them.

The person gulped before explaining the rules. They informed the Imuchakk that to win a match you had to knock the opponent unconscious or out of the ring. There also was a small lip at the edge of the arena to prevent stepping off it. Ilirran also had to give mark consent that he understood death was possible. It didn't bother him that he might die, in fact, the prospect incited pride that he might perish in combat.

After signing up he worked his way into the crowd, close to the stage to look around at the other contestants.

Raizel woke up early today. He was told by Mr. Zen that there will be a contest in the desert, a gladiator battle. He was urged by Mr. Zen to join for two reasons-one, so that he can gain experience, and two, so that he will know there are stronger people out there. To seal the deal and convince Raizel once and for all, he was told there is going to be a huge prize for the winner, and to top it off, Mr. Zen will award him with 7 days off from training, with allowance to drink or eat as much as he wants. This made Raizel accept the deal, and Raizel slept early that night so that he could have enough energy for today; D-Day. After breakfast, Raizel took both his staff and his sword and headed off to the desert.

The arena was hard to miss; it was visible even from the city gates. A lot of sand has been cleared, and you could see many caravans and people crowding around it; some challengers, some spectators, and some merchants here to just take advantage of the audiences' cash. Raizel smiled and started walking to the arena. Once reaching there, he made his way to the counter, queuing up together with the rest of the participants. Finally, it was his turn. He placed his hands on the table and said, "Cadis Delacroix Di Raizel. I'm here to join the tournament." The man behind the counter began to fill up some forms, before briefing him about the rules. He was first briefed about the rules of winning, either by knocking out, or sending them out of the ring. Killing was viable here, and that made Raizel smile. He was then briefed about the Arena's dimension. He was then lead to the arena, where he stood there with the rest of the participants.

The day was just perfect. The sun shone in completely glory and brilliance over the imperial city of Heliohapt. The morning rays were reflected into the golden mirrors of the palace's gold domes. Farah woke up early that day, ready for the events that made his blood boil in excitement. He had awaited for this moment since the day he heard about a certain event. He head rumors about a tournament that would be taking place in the city in the following festivities, and the work that had been done in the middle of the desert affirmed them. When it was finally announced that the tournament was to take place in the day of Heliohapt's Festival of the Broken Sun, he knew he had to go. Numerous warriors and fighters throughout all the places of the world came to test their strength in a fight to see who would become champion. It was the perfect opportunity for him to finally find the awaited excitement he had been looking for in Heliohapt. Farah had grown his entire life in the Coliseum, so he was no stranger to these kind of fights, but for some reason it made him anxious, excited and perhaps even nervous at the same time. It was the moment to test his power against the outer world.

He approached the area with the huge gathered crowd in the midst of the desert. It was funny how that place had been completely forgotten, but now it held one of the biggest crowds he'd ever seen. The red haired fanalis concealed his appearance completely, wearing a coat and a hood that hid his face and hair to the rest of the people. As he approached the counter, he saw the rest of the competitors. They came in all shapes and sizes, each one looking fiercer than the last one. A flame lit inside the man's soul, one hungry for battle and blood. "Da'ario Al-Zahir" signed Farah in the sign ups. He borrowed his father's name for the moment. He didn't want anyone who had known him in his past life as a gladiator to recognize him. He found a high place where he could observe everything before the fights began.

Once enough time had passed the sign ups were closed and the a short man with dark skin and a pair of half rim glasses stepped up onto the stage. The small Heliohaptan rose his hands to urge everyone nearby to quiet down so he could make an announcement. When the cacophony of voices finally settled, the man cleared his throat and shouted from his diaphragm in order to reach as many ears as possible. "The sign ups are now complete! The ninety-six people who signed up have been split into four blocks. A Block, B Block, and C Block, and D Block. Twenty four contestants will participate in a battle royal until there are only four men left standing. These men will be our winners, but they must still fight it out amongst each other in order to truly obtain the title of "Strongest Under The Sun!" so without further delay, let us begin the brawl!" With that, the man scurried off the stage as quickly as possible as the contestants were allowed onto the raised platform.

• A Block
  
  
  
  • Farah
    
  
  
  
• B Block
  
  
  
  • Raizel
    
  
  
  
• C Block
  
  
  
  • Ilirran
    
  
  
  
• D Block
  
  
  
  • ???
    
  
  
  

((Each of the blocks are taking place at different times since there is only one fighting stage. However you all can post for them simultaneously. Yay, liquid time~ You can start by wiping out nameless NPCs. Use your next post to make your character look like a cool guy doing cool guy things. But starting with the next round of posting, real NPC opponents will be sent your way to challenge you.))

Ilirran was called up to the stage, one of twenty-three others in A-block. They all stood at the edge of the stage, staring the other fighters down. A rush of adrenaline shot through Ilirran's veins as he anxiously awaited for the contest to start. A short man at his left sneered up to the tall Imuchakk, Ilirran looked down at him with a blood-thirsty grin. The man at his right had his eyes nearly closed, taking deep breaths. An air of calm washed over the man, his body visibly relaxing.

A ring of the bell echoed through the crowd and off the stone walls, proceeding the shouts and roars from the men in the ring as the fight started. The short man to the left of Ilirran, delivered a swift kick to the back of his knee, sending the man to a knee. Unfortunately for him, the Imuchakk had already decided to make the man his first victim and his elbow came crashing down on the short man. With a growl of rage, Ilirran grabbed the man by his hair and shirt, sending him flying into the crowd.

He turned his attention back to the ring to see a group of people fighting it out. He stood up, pushing off up to a run, aiming for the group in the center of the ring. As he approached, the nine foot Imuchakk with a leopard head barreled into the group. The ones that hadn't noticed the large man approaching were still fighting, while a few others dodged out of the way. His nearly bare body knocked into the men sending them scattering, his arms grasping on two unfortunate men. He seized them up by the back of their necks and slammed them into the stage. Stunned, they offered no resistance as he began swinging them, spinning his body to knock other men with their limbs.

As two men charged in with their swords unsheathed, Ilirran released his grip on the two he held, sending them crashing into the sword-wielders. As he stood, breathing heavily with sweat glistening down his bare chest, he caught movement in the corner of vision. He turned to see a fighter sending a punch at his rib. Letting the fist impact with his body, he grasped the man by his wrist, sending several punches towards the man's face, leaving a bloody wreck.

Scanning the stage, he noticed there were six others still standing staring at each other. A grunt rumbled in the nine foot tall Imuchakk's throat, his hand found the hilt of his large broadsword. Unsheathing it, he swung the flat end of the blade towards the closest man, catching him in the gut. Ilirran quickly followed up by grabbing the man's hair and swinging the flat end of the blade at his face. The impact resounded around Ilirran and he dealt a final kick to the man's kneecap, cracking bone.

A pair of arms latched around Ilirran's neck, frantic kicks delivered to Ilirran's thighs by dangling feet. Ilirran let out a laugh as he reached back and grabbed the collar of the person attempting to choke him. With a roar he ripped the man from his neck and jumped into the air. In mid-air, he maneuvered the man underneath him, with Ilirran's feet on the man's back. He let gravity push his body weight onto the man's back and send him into the stage with a sick smack. Ilirran felt the air leave the man's lungs with a huff and looked at the other fighters with a wild look in his eyes.

Ilirran was about to rush towards the nearest opponent when he noticed that there were only three others left. It seemed he had made it to the next round and he waited for instructions, nodding his respect to the others that were left. He noticed that the man who had stood at his right at the beginning was still standing, still breathing deeply with a calm complexion. Ilirran didn't understand how the man could be so calm when the Imuchakk's blood was dancing with delight to partake in combat.

((The other contestants have 24 hours to make a post. Otherwise, Ilirran will be automatically advanced to the finals. Even if they are skipped, it may still be possible to win prizes.))

Farah had seen the previous blocks from afar up in the roof of a nearby building. He had heard the announcement the tiny man had said about it being separated into fights of 4 blocks, with one contestant resulting in winner on each of them and finally four of them competing against each other. This was a format that really excited the red haired Fanalis. A battle royale between 24 fighters to see who the best among them was; afterwards a fight to see who was the strongest of the strongest. This was indeed fitting for the name; Strongest Under the Sun. The title was appealing, he had to admit. Farah Al-Zahir, "The Strongest Under the Sun". Not bad huh?

He was placed in block C, so he was able to contemplate the ferocious fights before his block came. Farah was really excited to take place in this competition. He had seen several people who had caught his attention, but not particularly anyone he knew. However, much was his surprise when he spotted the black haired swordsman he had met the other day. Raizel was a man that he had learnt to share many common interests with, and he was thrilled by the thought of being able to compete against him. Either way, the blocks before his finished with two victors, and now it was time for him to show the world his strength. He climbed up the stage after it was cleaned up, concealing his appearance beneath the coat and the hood-like thing on his head. He didn’t want anyone to recognize him just yet. He’d wait to the finals to reveal his appearance. He wasn’t sure about it, but being a gladiator of the Coliseum throughout his whole life, he was positive that some of the spectators that had come that day with promises of blood and fighting had seen him at least once. Either way, he smiled excitedly beneath his garbs as the bell rang. The fray began almost instantly, and an abnormally large man had made sure to be noticed at the very beginning. He had a curious stature for a human, he could even match that of an Imuchakk. Furthermore, he held a large axe, almost the size of Farah. The giant had already dispatched two people, and now looked for a new victim. He was unfortunate enough to have chosen Farah at it.

The giant charged at the Fanalis as he rose his battle axe above his head. He let out a fierce battle cry as he swung powerfully the large weapon at Farah, attempting to cut him in two. The Fanalis half smiled confidently as he saw the attack approaching. He tilted his body for the axe to barely miss him by inches. The strong impact of the weapon against the floor destroyed several tiles of the arena and made it shake for an instant. The smirk on the giants face disappeared as he noticed his victim was still alive. He angrily unstuck the axe from the ground as he attempted to swing it at Farah’s feet. It was true that the giant had a surprising strength, but that was not enough to finish the red haired gladiator. “Too slow.” Farah jumped just in time to land in the side of the axe, as the swing continued for a few moments before the giant realized what had happened. Farah contemplated the look of fear in the man’s face as he fell upon him with a fist that slammed directly into his face. The impact sent the giant down into the ground as his head was crushed beneath the strength of the attack and the hard stone of the arena. Everyone around them looked back to see what the sound of such a loud had been. The large man’s head had left a small crater in the arena, as cracks extended for a couple of meters. Three men furiously charged at Farah, friends of the latter he could presume, as they charged at him with unsheathed swords. Farah grabbed the arm of the giant as he lifted it from the ground. Before the men arrived Farah sent the body through the air directly at them. The three attacker were crushed beneath the weight as they were sent flying off the stage.

The crowd roared at such spectacle, but it was far from over. A man approached Farah from behind as he swung a large sword that looked like a shamshir. Farah caught a glimpse of him at the corner of his eye as he side stepped, evading the attack as he unsheathed Kaysir Al-Fiqar. He swung the blade downwards, slashing the man’s chest. The sight of blood excited Farah even more, bringing out his beastly instincts. Two other men charged at him with weapons in hand as a third one wearing brass knuckles approached him from the side. Two swings aimed at his head came from the swordsmen, attempting to give an opening to the brass knuckle one to attack Farah. He blocked both swords with a high guard, noticing a strong hook aimed at his ribcage. Farah moved his torso out of the way as the sharp ends of the knuckles ragged part of his coat. With his free hand he grabbed the arm of the man whilst he pushed back the parried back the two swordsmen. Not letting the third man go, he swept his leg making him loose balance as the two other men incorporated back into the attack. Farah incrusted Kaysir Al-Fiqar in the brass knuckle attacker’s jaw, as he lowered his head to avoid a slash at his upper torso. He stopped a new attack with his own sword and slashed through the first attacker’s bare chest. He avoided a final attempt to damage him from the last standing attacker as he spun out of reach giving his back to the swordsman. Farah heard his enraged attacker approaching him from behind and sent his sword in a backward attack. The red haired man pierced through his enemy’s stomach without turning to look at him. The cheers were deafening, and the fight was heating up. Farah was now boiling with adrenaline and excitement. The midst of battle was where he belonged, and were a Fanalis like him truly felt pleasure. He wondered who was next with a smile of confidence on his hidden face.

There were four fighters total remaining in A Block and two of them were already engaged in combat. This left Ilirran to face the calm contender whom had hardly moved from his starting position since the beginning of the frenzy. When the man took notice that the Imuchakk was one of the last men standing he took in solemn deep breath and gave the warrior a gentle gaze. "Pitiful beast, you look to be possessed by the spirit of a wild animal." The man was wearing monkly robes and looked to be from a foreign land. His frame was much smaller than Ilirran but the long clothing covered his muscles making it difficult to judge just how strong or fast he would be.

"I must thank you for handling many of the fighters, it has reduced the amount of violence I need to perform. You have my sincere gratitude." The man clasped his hands together in appreciation and made a slight bow without taking his eyes off of his opponent's body incase Ilirran tried to take advantage at that moment. Upon standing from the bow, the man would introduce himself and take a relaxed stance with both hands resting at his sides loosely. "My name is Joa Nasis, in exchange for making my life easier, I shall be sure to put you to sleep gently so that you may live to see tomorrow..."


As Farah finished winning the crowds applause by defeating a large number of opponents, one man remained fairly unnoticed. Some would even question whether or not he had been a participant in the first place, but it was undeniable that he was still standing in the arena making him the final obstacle Farah would need to surpass before he could claim a victory for himself. The stranger wore an odd mask and work the clothing of a sage or a monk and seemed the be staring directly at Farah even though it was impossible to truly tell through the eye holes of the face mask.

The stranger stood calmly at the opposite end of the arena and made no move to attack the Fanalis as the man stared at him with an indifferent expression. Once Farah took notice of the seemingly pious individual, he would point the sky and make a declaration. "You take joy in pummeling others? Your arms are strong but your heart must be crippled. Come, O' feral man of the monster clan. I, Shinri, shall pacify you and send your madness into the next world."

Shinri then rose both hands and pointed them towards the fanalis with open palms and bent his knees slightly in a relaxed stance.

Ilirran took a look around the arena at the three other men. Two were fighting amongst each other leaving the leopard head man with the last. Ilirran glanced over the calm man who had stood next to him at the start of the match. He wore monk robes with a cloth that covered his mouth. Ilirran wasn't sure how strong the man really was but his calm demeanor pissed the Imuchakk off. If the monk's attitude wasn't offensive enough, his words sure were. They were polite, but it was clear that he looked down upon Ilirran.

Ilirran's golden eyes burned with a desire to seek violence upon the man who introduced himself as Joa. “You can call me Ilirran, you can tell them my name in the afterlife, when I'm through with you.” Ilirran gripped his Unicorn Horn Broadsword in both hands and took up a defensive stance with his sword held in front of him, the tip below eye level. He was angry, but he knew better than to charge headfirst against an opponent he didn't know. Plus, he was curious to see how Joa planned on putting him 'to sleep'.

Farah looked back towards the location of the voice slowly. He was actually surprised when he saw the man that called for him. His look was that of a monk of some sorts. However, he didn't remember noticing at all throughout the fight. His look was rather comical actually. He lacked the "warrior-esque" style everyone else had. The rest of the contestants had a tough and fighter appearance, but here he stood, calling for Farah after the fray ended. He heard the words the stranger had to say with an indifferent look. His whole face was concealed beneath the garbs he wore except for his eyes. However, they didn't show any sign of impression either. When he finished speaking Farah slowly starting walking in his direction. He held his blade with his right hand, and extended his arm down. The cold steel was now tainted in crimson, blood still fresh from the earlier action. He spun it slowly in the air, making circles with it. A couple of drops of blood flew through the sky onto the ground as it moved. Farah finally stopped about 10 meters away from him. "Hmmhp... Perhaps you can't notice with that thing you've got on your face. You know, since it's got such a big forehead and little space for the eyes..." He made the remark with a serious yet sarcastic tone, taking a small pause before continuing. "But we're on the midst of a brawl here!" He slowly took off the scarf that covered his mouth to reveal the confident smile shine in the Fanalis face. "And gods kill me if I didn't take joy on it!" The crowd roared with cheers as they heard Farah's remark. That was what they had come to see after all.. Bloodshed, not people confessing their sins and getting preached by monks of sorts.

Farah readied to the incoming attack of the weird looking Shinri. Even though he didn't look extraordinary he had survived up to now. Furthermore, the fact that he hinted having discovered his Fanalis origins meant he was more than he looked like. Farah still had his feet on the ground to do something stupid. He would wait and see what he would do. Whatever it was, he was ready for it.

Joa's eyes watched the leopard headed barbarian as he threatened to send the monk to the afterlife where he would be able to spread the Imuchakk's name amongst the dead. It would be hard to tell what the monk's expression was like beneath the face mask that ended just before his nose, but something akin to an amused scoff sounded as Joa closed his eyes and spoke.

"It would seem that words are too great a responsibility for a creature like you." Joa opened his eyes once more and began taking slow but deliberate steps towards Ilirran, "Perhaps I should silence your tongue for good before putting you to rest." One of the man's hands rose to the center of his own chest held in motion before him in a prayer stance. Beads were wrapped around the man's hand and hung a few inches below his wrist making a very subtle noise with each step their owner took. As the sound of beads clacking together reached Ilirran's ears he would feel a sudden throbbing in his head and Joa would seem to split into three identical men.

No one in the audience would see this illusion leaving them to see a fairly normal sight as Joa rushed forwards and performed a forward palm thrust aimed for the Imuchakk's stomach. However Ilirran would see a very different scene play out before his eyes as the three monks appeared to approach him from the front either side. The illusions would arrive 3m ahead of the real Joa and all seemed to be moving to attack the large feline headed man, but would ultimately move past him. Any contact made with the false Joa's would reveal their nature as fakes as there would be no resistance beyond that of air.


"Detestable avatar of destruction..." The strange man said beneath his breath as Farah stoked the crowds excitement with words that sowed violence. "Beasts and shallow husks, I shall bring an end to your insanity." Shinri said to the audience in a firm voice as he rolled up one of his sleeves revealing an intricate tattoo branding upon the length of his right arm.

"I will not allow a barbarian like you to be called, Strongest Under the Sun. The true meaning of strength is much more profound than this..." As Shinri spoke, the ink on his arm would shift over his body and spread moving to cover the entire limb in a disturbing black with a well polished sheen as though it were made of obsidian glass.

Instead of taking any action beyond this, Shinri simply stood his ground 6 meters away from Farah with the strange black arm hanging limply as though all life had been drained from it.

A feline grin stretched over the nine foot Imuchakk's mouth, hunger radiating from his eyes towards Joa. It seemed the talking was finished and the man planned to act. With a beaded hand to his chest, the monk stepped forward. Ilirran felt head began pulsing in a dull throb and his vision split. The strange clacking of the monk's prayer beads didn't help the sensation.

Every fighter had their style, their bag of tricks, Ilirran knew this. The Imuchakk had seen the first trick of the match, but expecting a trick was not the same as knowing how to counter it. Ilirran watched as three monks moved forward with their fists stretched outwards. The leopard barbarian waited for them to approach a little closer before swing his Unicorn Horn Broadsword in a wide horizontal arc to deliver a Strike towards all three.

As his sword would finish its arc, the Imuchakk would push off the ground to perform a Leap ten meters into the air, above his opponents. If he had hit the illusions, he would now see the real one and if he had done any damage.

Spoiler:

Ilirran's attack successfully struck the false images that Joa had sent forth to him. There was no resistance to the attack, revealing to the Imuchakk that it was but a ploy. When his blade sliced through the two, they stopped moving forward. Ilirran's jump allowed him an overhead vantage of the field.

The crowd was certainly confused, as the man had made an attack at empty air. It looked, to them, to be purely aesthetic; warning Joa of the strength that the great Imuchakk wielded.

During the span of a second that it took for Ilirran to reach the apex of his jump, the other copies of Joa moved in a circular motion, and Joa followed the motion. During his descent, the images combined into one solid form momentarily before splitting into three. A fake of Joa stood in place facing the Imuchakk's last forward-looking position head-on, while the real one circled towards Ilirran's right, and another fake one circled to Ilirran's left. All three prepared an attack for the Imuchak...





Shinri looked towards Farah. The man did not make a single move towards him, though he was inviting the Fanalis to attack. "If you do not come to me, I shall come to you, and help cleanse this tournament of your kind." He walked towards the Fanalis, his movements were void of hostility. The arm that was completely black was limp; lifeless. Though there was no hostility, there was certainly an air of danger. If Farrah allowed the man to get much closer, well, it might spell disaster for the Fanalis.

OOC:

Plenty of time has passed since the previous post. I'm giving this thread 22 more hours for somebody to post something before I post again.

Ilirran spotted the real Joa but as he began to descend, the monk merged with his copies. It only took a moment before two Joas circled one meter away from where he would land. A scowl reflected on his face, Ilirran was flustered that he couldn't discern the real one. He landed with his blade raised at a 45 degree angle and twisted his body weight to his left. He used his body weight to spin 360 degrees counter-clockwise to perform a spinning slash. With the angle of the blade, it would be aimed at their shoulder-level.

Joa's copy trick annoyed Ilirran, spurring his desire to rid the monk of his life juice.

Ilirran had chosen the wrong target as his first. This was made apparent when Illiran's attack cut through the illusion and dealt no damage. There would be a pain in his side as Roa had struck a fist into Ilirran's kidney. The attack caused some pain to the Imuchakk. It was not, however, enough to stop the giant man from his spinning motion. The monk did not see that his attack hadn't stopped Ilirran's spinning in time to dodge the attack. As such, he brought his hands up to defend himself as Ilirran's large blade made from the Rampaging Unicorn's Horn sliced into Roa's arms.

The crowd was certainly confused as to why Ilirran had chosen to land where he did, but cried out in excitement as the first blood was drawn.

The force of the strike caused the strange beads on Roa's right hand to clack together. Roa immediately jumped backwards, away from Ilirran even as the sword was slicing him. The illusions seemed to have disappeared. "I will not allow a filthy creature like yourself to continue to fight here!" Roa brought his hands quickly into a prayer motion, clacking the beads again, and that same sensation that Ilirran had felt earlier came back. This time, there were a total of four of Roa, who were each side stepping back and forth, left and right. Were Ilirran to check, he would see that each of the illusions did, in fact, have wounds on their arms now.

If he were particularly perceptive, however, he would note that while they 'bled', the blood never fell from their bodies, and never fell to the ground.






With Farrah not responding to Shinri's taunts, Shinri walked up to Farrah. The man didn't move to intercept Shinri or do anything to prevent him from moving forward, so Shinri had reached the Fanalis with relative ease.

While he was walking towards Farrah, Shinri had touched his right blackened arm with his left hand. A small portion of that black substance transferred over to his fingertips. Though the crowd could not see it, the fingertips were actually razor sharp, and Farrah only had a moments worth of time to defend himself from Shinri's horizontal chop that was being made to his neck.

This is the 24 hour warning. If no posts are made, all attacks made by NPCs will auto-hit.

The leopard-headed Imuchakk felt a strike to his kidney as he spun around, swinging his large sword. 'Curse this monk!', he thought to himself as he cut through both illusions before slicing into Roa's arms. The monk quickly backed off as Ilirran caught his balance from the spin again. With a fanged grin, Ilirran noticed the illusions had dispersed, finally he had defeated one of the monk's tricks, it was time to turn the tables. The Imuchakk's glee was immediately foiled when Roa raised his hands in a gesture of prayer and the beads clacked together. The noise triggered another dull pain in his head and spawned four more illusions.

Annoyance had now become a boiling pit of rage within Ilirran as he watched the illusions. He saw where the original still stood as the illusions danced back and forth around the monk. With a roar, Ilirran leaped forward towards the original Roa aiming a Smash with the blunt end of his Unicorn Horn Broadsword at the monk. The Imuchakk threw all his weight and anger behind the attack, ignoring the illusions for the moment.

[70/100 stamina]

Spoiler:

The horizontal chop landed, and the strange dark matter left Shinri's fingertips and entered Farah's body, paralyzing him in place. Shinri whispered quietly to Farrah. "Your mistake was in underestimating me... And in thinking your unruly kind were welcome to this tournament."

The crowd went wild as Farrah's seemingly limp arm went into action, executing a flurry of blows. If it were to continue like it was, then Farrah would certainly be down for the count...





Ilirran's rage and accuracy in picking out the correct one from the group of illusions threw Roa mentally off guard. The Imuchakk continued to surprise the overconfident fighter who, as luck and battle training reflexes would have it, was able to throw his arms up at an angle in order to divert the blade to the side. He had not expected that the Imuchakk would guess right when choosing which image was real and which was fake.

Roa winced in pain as the blow struck his wounded arms, and his illusions combined with him and dispersed in an attempt to confuse Ilirran. Roa was becoming exhausted, however, and hadn't circled around his opponent. It still did not occur to him that his blood was hitting the floor and giving Ilirran an opportunity to discern the correct one.

The crowd, which was initially confused at why Ilirran was acting in such a strange manner, now began to cheer as he was no longer attacking things that they could not see. Whether or not the euphoria of the crowd's cheers reached the Imuchakk was yet to be seen.

He charged forward, confident that Ilirran wouldn't get lucky twice, and preparing a strong blow towards the Imuchakk's stomach.

OOC

Yes, that's fine. Just so you know the damage counter on the man right now, it's C tier damage.

He has dealt D tier damage to you with the blow in the prior post, if you want to keep track of that.

Ilirran's Unicorn Horn Broadsword smashed down towards Roa who redirected the force of the strike to the side. The Imuchakk noticed blood running down the monk's arms from the earlier strike and watched it drip to the floor. When he looked back up, Roa's illusions combined into one before dispersing to circle around the leopard headed Imuchakk. He eyed them quickly, attempting to discern which was the real one noting the wounds on their arms. Through the brief glimpses, he realized that none of the illusions were dripping blood onto the ground. The Roa in front of him was dripping blood and Ilirran grinned.

Ilirran did not even notice the crowd and their reactions, the whole match he had been focused on combat and there was no room for satisfying a crowd in combat. They were an unnecessary distraction and while Ilirran knew other fighters liked to make a blood-thirsty crowd roar, Ilirran failed to see the point. What mattered was the fight, who won or who lost.

When Roa leaped forward with a blow to Ilirran's stomach, the Imuchakk raised his blade with a quick flourish to redirect the monk's attack with a Basic Parry using the flat of his blade. He ignored the illusions around him as they charged in as well, they were not his target. His target was the Roa whose blood was dripping on the ground from his wounds. After he parried the attack, Ilirran quickly followed up with his own attack. He moved forward swinging his blade in a horizontal arc, aiming a Strike towards Roa's middle. Regardless if the attack was successful or not, he would continue by using the momentum of his sword to swing the blade above his head and slam it down towards Roa's direction, following his movements.

Spoiler:

The flurry of blows were each, on their own, painful. Together, however, they were truly devastating. Farrah soon found himself out cold on the ground, and Shinri was about to finish him off.

One of the judges noted that Farrah was out cold and immediately declared Shinri the victor. The man spit on the ground before turning his back to the unconscious Fanalis and walking to the victor's side.


Ilirran's instinct was certainly powerful. That, combined with Roa's frustration that his attack was parried away, gave Ilirran the perfect opportunity. The strike hit Roa square across his midriff, knocking the wind out of him. The man coughed, surprise suffusing him once again as he regained his breath. The fluid motion of Ilirran's blade swinging through the air and back down in a forceful downward chop, however, gave Roa no time for breath.

Ilirran's opponent gritted his teeth as he did his best to get out of the way. The strike, however, once again cut into the man's arm, though this time only the right one holding the beads.

The clacking of the beads cleared Ilirran's head of the strange sensation, and the hand hung limply at the man's side as the beads slid across the floor. The Imuchakk had likely severed some muscles in the man's arm that made it difficult or impossible for him to use. He looked down at the beads and back to Ilirran who was only a meter away from him. Fear was now on his face as he screamed out. "BROTHER!" He looked over to Shinri...


Shinri saw what was occurring, and that one of the monks from the same order he was in was losing to a barbaric creature with the head of some sort of... Animal. This couldn't be allowed.

Even as judges attempted to stop him, Shinri began walking off towards Ilirran. He disregarded them, as if they were flies. Two guards attempted to stop him, and his blackened arm flew at high speeds and cut the throats of both of them. He began to whisper, though not audibly loud enough for others to hear. A strange cloud of black Rukh began to form around the man that most could not see, but the feeling of the killing intent and hatred were felt by all of those still in the arena area, judges and fighters who had lost or would soon be up for battles. He began to run towards the arena.

An announcer yelled out to the group. "A PRIZE FOR ANY WHO STOP THAT MAN, DEAD OR ALIVE!" The gladiators, looked at each other, losers and winners both, before charging towards Shinri...


OOC:

Due to Farrah being away, he will not die in the match. He will receive Huang at the end of The Fate of Heliohapt as his reward for having participated.

Ilirran, you still have some time to do another round of stuff. Shinri wont make it to the arena until my next post.

With a slash to Roa's midriff and a downward strike to his arm that appeared to greatly injure it, Ilirran stopped his blade inches above the ground. He peered down the monk and exhaled a deep breath, the dull pain in his head had subsided. Without the sensation, Ilirran calmed down a bit and noticed the stricken look of panic on Roa's face. He yelled out for his brother, his eyes looking around Ilirran to someone in the crowd. Ilirran then heard a loud commotion behind him, he turned around to see another monk pushing through the crowd.

"Tsk," Ilirran turned back to Roa, the monk still needed to be removed. The Imuchakk balled up his left hand into a large fist and threw a hook towards Roa's gut. He hoped to send the monk back a few feet and discourage Roa from any further fight. He would then turn around and focus on the other monk to see Shinri running towards the stage. Over the loud speaker Ilirran heard the announcer shouting a reward for any who stop the monk. The Imuchakk could feel the killing intent oozing out of Shinri and let out a feline grin. If Roa was too weak to continue fighting then Ilirran welcomed this new contestant. He ignored the pain in his back and the fatigue beginning to seep into his muscles, Ilirran thrived on combat.

Ilirran's attack caused Roa's bones to crack as he went flying backwards and off of the ring. Most of the crowd's attention, however, was on the man approaching the ring. As Roa fell off the arena, Shinri stopped in place. He was perhaps 30 meters away from Ilirran at that point, and he had a look of great disbelief upon his face, immediately followed by an intense look of rage as veins popped up on the man's un-blackened arm and he gritted his teeth. An intense wave of black Rukh flowed towards Shinri and began absorbing into his deadened arm.

That moment of stopping was all it took, however, for the rest of the contestants to reach him. Two spears dug into the man's flesh, and eight of the contestants managed to dogpile on top of the man. It would be unfortunate, but it seemed as if Ilirran was unlikely to have that great moment of combat he was looking forward to participating in.


Ten seconds passed with the men on top of him. Suddenly, a roar of pain that could not belong to any man cried out from beneath the pile of contestants. Slowly that pile expanded, as if they were lying on top of a giant balloon that was being inflated. Within the span of three seconds the contestants flew off from atop what used to be a human man, Shinri. What stood in that man's former place was instead a huge creature, possibly three times the height of the Imuchakk.




It let out another roar and let a great swipe of its claw strike a row of contestants. Two of the contestants were slammed away from the creature, however one of them seemed to have managed to deflect the attack and hold his own ground.

Perhaps there was still a fight left to be had.

A figure in the distance was approaching the scene. Yakuroro, a blue magician from Imuchakk, was riding a flying carpet accompanied by his adoptive chimera son, Akatetsu. The jade green magic tool flew through the air at a leisurely pace as the magician flew towards Heliohapt hoping that he had not missed out on the grand festival and that the party was still going. He'd been out of town on one of his many expeditions into the desert looking for ancient ruins to further his research on the lost Toran civilization and lost track of time. Had Yakuroro not taken the time to inscribe the dates on his ice tome, he likely would have had to enjoy the eclipse alone with his beast companion in the middle of sandy dunes. While this was a nice enough scene on its own, the Imuchakk didn't want to miss out on all the free food and festive cheer that would likely be going on inside the city.

"There's the capital, Tetsu! I think we'll make it in time after all." Yaku said to his "son" as he pointed towards Heliohapt. "Gyao! Gyao!" The bonehead replied happily and seemed to be excited as he bounced up and down in place just enough so the carpet did not fly out from underneath him. But as Yakuroro smiled at his beasts joy a flash of black caught his eye and stole the magician's attention. "...Wha...What is that?..." For the first time ever, Akatetsu heard Yakuroro's voice laced with fear. The chimeras celebration halted as it looked in confusion trying to see what had shaken his father but the beast could not see what the magician's eyes were beholding.

A swirl of black rukh in the distance where many had gathered. A sudden burst of magoi. Bodies being flung through the air. A great beast emerging from the many bodies which looked akin to small insects at this distance. Yakuroro knew not what was happening, but he knew one thing for sure. Those rukh were not the innocent black found in strength magic, but rather the terrible taint of those lost to madness and resentment. The Imuchakk felt a cold shiver run down his spine that was worse than the chill any blizzard in his homeland could produce. His skin turned pale and clammy as a cold sweat broke out and his hands began to shake. Fear gripped Yakuroro around the throat and squeezed tightly threatening to strangle him to death as he felt a primal terror in response to this...thing that was attracting so much black rukh.

Every fiber of his being wanted to turn the carpet around. To leave the city and this horrible monster behind for all eternity. But one look down at his side into Akatetsu's pure child-like eyes and Yaku knew he couldn't simply fly away. Tetsu's gaze was filled with confusion, but also trust. Trust in Yakuroro whom believed himself to be capable of righting all that was wrong with this twisted world one day. If he did not start here, he did not deserve to have such grand ambitions. The Imuchakk bit his lower lip and placed one hand on Akatetsu's head before speaking in a shaky voice. "Don't worry Tetsu...But it looks like we'll have to put the party off a while longer." His blue eyes fixated upon the still distant scene of chaos and tried to steel his heart in preparation to face his greatest fear.

((Yaku isn't actually on scene just yet. Will actually arrive with my next post.))