Members Choice - Round 3 [Agatha V Nero]

[Admin]

Member's Choice Tournament
Round Three
vs

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This post opens the third round of the Member's Choice Tournament!

We have five participants who fought tooth and nail to win the previous round and are still fighting to see which fighter is the best! We wish all of our contestants the best of luck!  The winning contestant moves on to the next match, the losing member will be given a consolation prize. In the event that this match does last until the end date, the members will decide which members moves on. There is a 3 day [72 hours] time limit between posts.


Posting Order:  Agatha then Nero

Match ends: September 17, 2014.

[Deleted]

A familiar voice would ring out once more as the victors of the 2nd Round prepared for the third. "Well done my warriors, very well done indeed! These battles were much more entertaining to watch, but I'm afraid there is still quite a way to go and we're going to need to up the ante to keep me from falling asleep...or killing you all! If one of you is to inherit my Boon, you'll have to really work it! Dazzle me! Give me a show! I shall do my part by setting the stage! Once again, I wish you good luck! Do not fail me!"

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AGATHA AND NERO YOUR ARENA HAS BEEN CHOSEN!

Only moments after the two combatants would enter the normal battle arena, the entirety of Olympus Coliseum would fade and be replaced by a A Massive Tomb! The two fighters would find themselves standing upon a circular stone surface twenty feet in radius. Surrounding the platform is a misty pit that according to local legend leads to the Underworld (when in reality it is just an endless field of forgotten bones). Beyond the pit is a cylinder of stone that reaches endlessly upward. These walls hold a countless number of notches where the mummified bodies of the dead lay at rest. Try not to wake them, hm?

The voice of the knight sounded off once more:

"Prepare yourselves! COMMENCE!!!"

[Deleted]

After taking a few days to take a breather following her match with Snow, the Athenian warrior spent the hours exploring the areas around the Coliseum. She encountered many people among the crowds that had brought the makeshift camp to the formerly open terrace, something the satyr that ran the Lobby and Tournaments didn't exactly see eye to eye with. Agatha had briefly overheard the complaints from a good distance away during one of these spats, and came to the conclusion that the small goat man enjoyed the lack of crowds; perhaps he was a private creature. Though Agatha had grown fond of spending more time around the variety of locals, who as it would turn out not only hailed from Greece, but from many of the worlds alike. She met a group of 'high classed' women from a land bearing a Castle of Dreams, which confused Agatha regarding the name of such a place. How could one simply enter a dream? An inventor from Halloween Town who walked with a motorized chair, a fascinating old man, but quite a bit on the crazy side. Several quiet, but very enthusiastic people from a Land of Dragons, and some shop owners from a place called Traverse Town were also present.

As she made her way from group to group, conversing with and listening to stories from the people of the games, the blond had begun to feel less alienated by being here. While it was enough to distract her, there was no possibility she could forget the looming inevitability of the next round's battle. Something within the gut of the Athenian told her that her fight with Snow wasn't as fulfilling as it should have been; perhaps it was only a brief taste of the next opponent she was to face.

An elderly man near the edge of the camp had set up his own tent, which found its area looted with all sorts of charts, instruments, and tools for excavation. The white haired man worked tirelessly as he examined a pair of tablets laid out upon a low height table; one hand was clenched firmly to a pen as he wrote on paper, and the other held a magnifying glass as he peered through it onto the ancient symbols. The tablets looked very old, perhaps hundreds if not thousands of years, and had the man's undivided attention. As Agatha approached, she did so cautiously, so as to not interrupt the archaeologist from the translation he was attempting to uncover. Though as she stood there watching him, the elder managed to notice her presence, and stopped his scribe to peer up at her bright green eyes. "You are a scholar?" she inquired, and was greeted with a smile as the man rose from his slouched position.

"Yes m'dear. How can I help you?" he asked, setting down his tools as he rose from his seat, and walked over to shake the blond's hand. Agatha shook her head briefly before nodding to the pair of tablets. "I'm curious to know what you're working on. I always found history to be fascinating in my youth. Pardon my intrusion, I couldn't help myself." The old man shook his head as he waved off the woman's apology, and beckoned her to look upon the weather stones. "There is no need to apologize for the sake of wishing to learn. We mortals are a curious breed by nature." Agatha nodded with a smile as she took a seat next to the elder, and looked upon the tablets, which made her eyes widen at the sight of the symbols embedded. The first depicted a bright and prosperous kingdom, and its fall to the darkness, which gave rise to a terrible force. Though the bottom half of the first tablet she could make no sense of, as it was filled with a script that she did not recognize, nor understand. "What is this?" asked Agatha as she looked to the old man, who pointed to the stone.

"It is the prediction of a terrible day, or as the more illustrated experts would say, a prophecy of sorts. It explains of a warning to the brightest kingdom of light, falling to the corrupting tides of darkness," he then moved his finger to a rune depicting a single figure just beneath the kingdom. "An individual of terrible power will raze the world to ashes, and rebuild upon its soil, an empire of evil. Oh my," exclaimed the man as he went back to scribbling with his pen. Agatha sat there for a moment in silence, pondering to herself if this was somehow related to Athena's warning, and if this was why she had been brought to the tournament in the first place. "Sir, can I ask where you discovered this?" Her question was an honest one, which she did not expect to be humorous, yet it provoked a small chuckle out of the scholar. "My dear I have uncovered many myths and stories in my past, though I shall say the credit to this find does not go to me. I was simply asked here to help a friend decipher these tablets, though I don't believe it was worth receiving a ticket to those violent, pointless games they are hosting here. This place used to represent more than a simple battleground, as history would tell us. What its become now is simply barbaric and fit for the enjoyment of neophytes." The old man raised his gaze to the sight of the Coliseum's Lobby, and shook his head in disapproval before returning to his work. Agatha simply sat and listened with a genuine intrigue to this man's words, somehow feeling like her younger self as she engaged in historical research with her old mentor.

A gong sounded out from the Coliseum, signifying the end of the second round, which caught the Athenian's attention to draw to the Lobby doors. Many spectators poured out to rejoin the camp and mingle while they awaited for the inevitable third round, among some were the valorous defeated, who either lingered or made their way to leave the Terrace entirely. Agatha wondered for a moment whether she would actually uncover any answers for her task at this place, just before her eyes wandered down to the table, and rested upon the runes of the tablet. Was this a long forgotten prophecy? Was this simply just a weathered rock that held no significance to current events? She let her gaze wander to the second of the two slabs, and examined the runes upon that as well. The top depicted more of the strange writing, as well as an image of the Coliseum, or rather what she could have sworn was the arena. It was hard to make out, whether it was the structure beyond the camp, or a collection of cliffs and plateaus. Surrounding the strange image was what appeared to be many keys, and another image that looked similar to the figure on the first tablet. Whomever this tablet was describing, this person seemed to hold a powerful sway to have been carved into these stones. Agatha's eyes narrowed slightly. Was this person depicted in the prophecy someone she needed to be wary of?

"I must go, excuse me."

With no warning Agatha stood, and left the scholar to his work, and headed straight for the Coliseum Lobby to inspect the lists for what the third round would look like. She waited for a crowd of people to disperse before she moved to the parchment with the lists on them, and scanned the paper to find her name. It would seem there was another bye given to one of the victors from the last round, much like she had received prior. Whoever this Silv individual was, would have the peace and time to prepare for the fourth, and was no doubt envied by the other combatants by now. Agatha had reluctantly taken her time, not seeing how she could have received a free pass to move on in the tournament while others fought and earned their place with glory. She would protest to such an idea, but the more wiser side of her self remembered her past, and how Arcenio would have proclaimed such a thing to be a tactical advantage. She was beside herself on what to think about it, but she knew that she was rested, and had more energy to go on through the fights now. Her green eyes landed upon her name, paired against a fighter named Nero the Sable.

'The Sable?'

She pondered the meaning behind such a title, and what a being that brandished one would be capable of in combat. Sable was defined sometimes as the color black, which could have related to any number of things about a fighter. Did they have black hair? Did they utilize black armor or blackened weapons? Did they...use the Darkness? The last idea made Agatha narrow her eyes at the name on the parchment, and as she looked to her left down the darkened, dimly lit passageway to the Arena, she felt a chill run up her spine. Her memory flashed briefly with an image of Angra Mainyu, standing over her upon the deck of that ship, radiating Darkness from his being as he laughed maniacally. The thought of another Darkness wielder on his caliber was unheard of, but it was something she was certain to eventually face on the path she had been set on. Though how was she to fight someone of such power on her own, without the help of her friends? Could she remain resilient enough to strive for victory?

Agatha turned from the lists, and went outside the Lobby to lean against one of the massive stone pillars, and stared out upon the encampment of the people. She thought in silence about how to take this next fight, and what it would possibly hold for her. She was anxious but not fearful of the possible likelihood this Nero would have powers of the Darkness, and thought further on how best to deal with it. She would not know for certain about her tactics until the fight was before her, but she knew fully well from past experience that light worked wonders against shadow. Agatha knew she was to face this trial alone, and she knew her resolve was strong, but there was still the nerves of anticipation that lingered on her muscles. It would happen any moment now, the third round would begin, and she would stand to face her next opponent. She silently cursed herself for not taking the time to observe the fights of the second round, to take on a tactical advantage and prepare herself like a true veteran would have done. She knew nothing about how anyone in this tournament fought, and even worse, knew little about many of the combatants.

The next gong rang a few minutes later, and Agatha peer over her shoulder with a dark glance. She turned in full and followed the inertia force that compelled her body to walk back into the Lobby. She did not look to the satyr who stood there with his parchment and quill, but simply continued onward through the dimly lit hallway to the Arena. As she stepped into the light, she found the applause to be more louder than the previous time she had entered, and there to be much more people than the second round and first combined. Perhaps all the travelers had finally made it here, and more people in the camp had been convinced to partake in the spectating. Agatha was not prideful in this, and merely saw it as a fight with an audience, though something did seem unusual. As she turned her attention from the people, she noticed the battlefield to be as barren and scar free as it had been upon her entry to her first match. The column she had cut down, and the scars in the ground from Snow's attacks, from all the combatants' battles, had been remedied. She paused her advancement, stopping just before the raised stone platform, and stared bewildered at the flawless scene.

She looked skyward with more surprise as an ominous voice began to speak from the skies, and began to explain something about setting the stage. Before Agatha's eyes everything began to dissolve and shadow around her, and soon sand was replaced by a solid sphere of stone, surrounded in mist. Agatha took a step back, and looked around her to find she now stood in what appeared to be a tomb. It was much darker now, and light came through cracks and holes in a ceiling where the sky used to be. Skeletons and wrapped decomposing bodies filled some of the holes in the walls, but the mist dominated most of the atmosphere, rising from what first appeared to be a liquid pit; Little did she know of the endless supply of bones at the bottom. Light overcame her arms as she summoned her weapons to her aide, and began to look around the newly altered battlefield for her opponent.

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Action List
1. None used
2.
3.

[Deleted]

He had made his attack upon the strange child known as Namine. He saw the bullets fly. Felt the guns jump in his hand. However, for whatever reason, he would not be allowed to see the end result of his attack upon the girl. As soon as his guns were fired and he had begun to rest from his quick attack, he heard a strange sound break the silence and with it the bullets fired at the girl quickly turned dust and blew away on the wind. As he pulled himself from his darkness and landed on the ground, the Sable was confused at first as to what had happened, but then the world around him began to warp and soon the wasteland he and the child were in vanished and once more they were upon the arena floor with the light cheering and mumuring of the crowds flooding in upon them. Understanding that the sound he had heard was some form of signal that ended the fight, Nero’s body relaxed as his guns remained limp at his sides.

Crimson eyes remained focused on Namine as he listened to the announcer speak above mentioning something about voting who the winner was. The crowd seemed to become even more excited about this idea and became annoyingly more loud; however, the Sable could not escape the sound. The gate that had let him into the arena was still closed and since he really had no reason to eliminate the civilians, the Sable endured the noise as he kept his focus on the girl. His calm spot in otherwise chaotic seas. He heard the announcer call out each of their names. Heard the roars and boos as the crowd decided who would win. While it sounded like a mixed bunch to the Sable’s ears, somehow in the end he was announced the winner of it all.

Not particular proud, the Sable ignored the crowd as he place his guns back in their cases at his side. Remaining quiet, he gave Namine the lightest of bows showing a rare sign of respect to the girl, before the quiet and strange man was turning away and leaving the loud arena ground as the gate on his side began to rise.

Slipping into the cool silence of the dimly lit hallways, Nero began to move to where his waiting room was. As he did this, he took note that the goat man was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he had scared him off. Not that it really mattered to the Sable who preferred to be alone to gather himself once more before the next rounds started. There were still other fights going on, so he would have to wait for a while longer until that happened. Keeping his pace leisurely, he continued to move to his holding area pausing only briefly when he noticed an odd fountain that had not been in the area before.

Cautiously approaching the fountain that seemed to radiate a power of its own, Nero noticed that it was full of crystal clear water that was very inviting despite the sudden appearance of its source. Curious as to exactly what the well was, the Sable moved closer to the fountain and then moving his right wing forward, he tentatively poked the water with the tip of the bladed “bone” to see if any damage would be done to it.

Instead of doing damage, the water that touched the tip of the blade, quickly latched onto the sharp blade and moved upward slightly. As it moved, it seemed to shine and fix the nicks that had been gained upon the apparatus. Moving the blade closer to examine it, Nero saw that the blade really had been fixed by that tiny drop of water.

Interesting....

Crimson eyes drifted back to the fountain. So was the fountain to be used perhaps to fix him up for the next fight? Hmph...a strange way of healing, but Nero was not one to turn away a gift if it was indeed a good one. So with no more fear of the water, the Sable placed his hand in the water and felt himself relax as the water immediately began to ease soreness and seal up scratches that had been gained from the previous battle.

The Sable didn’t pour the water over himself or anything like that as he instead took small amounts of the healing water and aimed water at the wounds that were far worse than the rest…like that burn for example. It would’ve been problematic if he had left that particular damage there. While it wasn’t major, it was annoying enough to slow him up and he could not have that, especially when he did not know what he was up against next. He wanted to be able to still fight, but did not find it necessary to go overboard with the water.

Once he was done using what he needed of the water to get himself back in working order, the Sable left the fountain alone and retreated to the corner of the waiting room and sat down closing his eyes as he waited to be summoned again.

He didn’t have to wait long before the familiar and hesitant clack-clack of hooves across stone was greeting his ears. Opening his eyes slightly, the Sable glanced emotionlessly at the goat man that immediately froze in his tracks when he notice the crimson eyes were upon him.

With fear leaking off of him in thick waves that the Sable could taste, Nero watched as the goat man fought with his emotions for a second and then finally managing to compose himself, he spoke.

“Okay kid. Your go,” he said nervously as did his best to appear fearless before Nero. Without saying a word, the Sable rose to his feet and moved forward. The goat man did his best to hold his ground, but the nearer Nero came, the more the guy lost his nerve and before he knew it the little goat man had backed himself into the wall; however, Nero gave this action only the briefest of his attention before he was turning and heading down the hall towards the gate that would lead to the arena ring once more.

As he approached, the heavy structure, it began to shake and rumble as it rose from its spot once more. Hardly stopping, Nero slipped under the dangerously low spikes of the gate and blinked sleepily in the sun of day, his more sensitive eyes stinging a bit as they adapted. Once more he was surrounded by the noise of the crowd, ten times louder than the last time…meaning more had gathered for the show.

Wonderful….

Pushing back the noise as much as he could, the Sable’s eyes would scan the crowds briefly picking out familiar and new faces as new bets and new conversations began; however, none belonged to the one he sought. Disappointing.

Shifting his eyes lazily from the crowd, Nero easily crossed the sand and stepped up on the undamaged arena floor hardly taking notice of the fact the arena had been repaired of any damages done as he stopped a few paces from his end of the arena and locked his eyes on the fighter at the other side.

Another blonde female that had more curves than the last and appeared to be a bit older than his last fighter. Like the other, she wore a dress, but one that was more revealing; however, this did not matter to the Sable as he took note instead of how her body was toned and fit…a body of a warrior or one who stayed active daily.

Hmmm. A difficult opponent or one who takes too much pride in looks and had no skill? Which category do you fall in? the Sable wondered briefly as he continued to study her for a moment longer; however, the Sable did not take the time to ponder the thought for long as a familiar voice came drifting from above. While the voice took the woman by surprise, the Sable who had dealt with the strange watcher beforehand hardly reacted as he tilted his head slightly in the direction of the armored being to listen to what the other had to say.

Not really taking to heart what the creature was saying, Nero waited for the armored being to become silent once more. Once the babble from above had ceased, the arena shifted once more and the crowds were once more swallowed up by silence.

When the world was still again, the Sable found himself upon a circular platform with the woman. All around them were walls, mist, and the scent of decay. To either ends of the circular platform were drop offs. In fact, a drop off was right behind him, so quietly the Sable turned himself to look down into the mist behind him. With ease his eyes picked out the endless bones that rested there. Smirking lightly at the irony of the setting, the Sable looked upward at the stones that sealed off almost all light with the exception of a few shards of it that peaked through the cracks and small holes that formed in the walls and ceiling.

Without these small rays of light this area would be pitch black, but the Sable was not concerned about that as he turned slightly to look over at his opponent, his dark attuned eyes seeing her as if she stood in the day light. He saw the light she used to summon her weapon - a sword and shield - as she stood on the far end of the arena from him. He took note, she seemed to be seeking him, her eyes not accustomed to the dark making her more blind than himself; however, if she looked carefully enough the pulsing blue lines of the Sable’s suit would give him away, but only for a moment as he spoke two words out loud.

“Good luck.”

The words were spoken in soft tones that should not have been able to carry across the distance, but they did. The Sable’s voice came from everywhere and no where as his natural darkness leaked from him and began to mingle with the natural darkness of the tomb. In a few short seconds, the blue lines in the Sable’s suit would vanish as he became one with the darkness around him.

Quite comfortable in his own element, the Sable would push off the ground and move towards the woman at amazing speeds. The sounds of his running footsteps echoing and filling the area making it hard to tell exactly where the Sable was coming from. Keeping his path straight, the Sable would turn at the last few seconds and veer towards the left.

As he does this, his metal wings would brush inches from the woman’s arm as the wind of his passing was strong enough to tug at clothing as he made his way to the edge of the arena and then kicked off the solid platform, pushing himself towards the walls.

As he took to the air and headed towards the walls, he used his natural darkness to continue to carry himself across the gap as he turned in the air, pulled out his guns, and fired six shots towards the woman’s back. The shots were deafening enough out in the open, but within a enclosed area the shots were even louder. It was enough to deafen or disorient one not use the sounds, but to Nero who had been around the sounds of guns both in and outside most of his life, the Tvsiet was hardly phased by this as he opened his wings and folded them back slightly.

With a light jolt and quite a bit of clattering as metal and stone connected with one another, the blades on Nero’s wings dug slightly into the stone that connected each resting place for the dead as the hands upon the wings turned at odd angles to grasp solid holds in the wall as they moved the Sable like a spider across the pocketed wall. As he moved, he intentionally knocked bodies out of their holes and sent them clattering to the bone pile below adding more noise to the area in an attempt to hide exactly where he was going. After a few short seconds, the Sable would come to a halt to the right of the woman.

Staying suspended where he was, the Sable’s darkness would keep him hidden within the natural darkness as he settled quietly into his spot, using his wings and the open graves to keep himself as still as possible. From here, he would wait to see what the woman would do…
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Passive Ability that is always on: Absolute Darkness.

Moves used 3/3:

1. Using his natural darkness to stay hidden, Nero charges at Agatha, but instead of attacking, he veers slightly to the left and jumps off the platform and towards the walls. Take note that he passes by close enough that if Agatha moves the wrong way the tips of his wings could potentially cut her.

2. After jumping off the platform, he turns in the air to face the woman as he pulls out his guns and fires six shot at her back in an attempt to strike and deafen her with the amplified gunshots within the enclosed arena.

3. After the shots are fired, Nero uses his wings to latch onto the wall and scuttle across them like a spider. As he moves, he intentionally knocks the dead out their resting places and into the bone pit below. His hope is that between the gunshot from earlier and from all the noise the bodies and bones are making, Agatha won’t be able to find him as he settles on the wall in a spot to the right of the woman on the platform.

[Deleted]

Agatha has failed to post within the 72 hour post limit.

Nero wins.

Agatha's loss has been recorded.