Round One: Aiedan VS Ryan

[A Dragonian]

Legends of Dragonia: Tournament 2006--
Esperanza Edition:
Round One: Viva la Dragonia!

Match: Aiedan VS Ryan
Final Score: 2 - 3
Location: Alundera
Judge: Kilix/Dalian

Reminder - Be sure to be well informed of the Rules and Format of each match. Be sure to include your surrounding area; remember, YOU ARE NOT FIGHTING ON THE TOURNAMENT GROUNDS! The first person to post can set any additional conditions, such as the weather or the exact location of where the two are fighting, to further the enviornment. Also, be creative with what you do, and be sure to have fun!

[A Dragonian]

(Good luck, Ryan! I’m actually hoping for a good match from you; that, or you do not even show up. Either could go quite well for me. So, nonetheless, good luck in round one!)

To anybody who would be watching this match from the grand stadium in Esperanza, they would not realize the importance of this match. It was merely the first-drawn fight, between two men who showed very promising results; they were of the same age, build, and principles. They could have been brothers-- had it not been for physical characteristics, such as their hair and eye colors, and their attire-- and one might be easily be mistaken for the other. Yet, their names were quite different: Ryan and Aiedan.

No one would have guessed that someone had paired two blood brothers in combat with one-another....

The judges who typically watched over every match wanted to keep a close eye on this bout-- not for penalties or disqualifications, but rather to see which man would be the last one standing. This seemed to be the feeling that spread like mad through those waiting in the stands of the grand stadium: Aiedan versus Ryan would be one for the ages. Even Aiedan, who had inevitably decided that the fates were conspiring against him, could not wait for this match to open up.

Aiedan stood waiting where every other fighter had gathered in such a short time. They came in all shapes, colors, sizes, races, and genders-- quite the diversity to the Dragonian. Aiedan had to admit, though, the site of seeing a two-and-a-half foot tall, fuzzy creature would have been enough to bring him to hysterics on any other occasion. Aiedan was not concentrating on any fighter in particular, rather keeping his eyes open for friendships between fighters. He kept himself farther away. He had lit up a cigarette and kept it firmly locked in his lips as he tightened the laces on the fingerless fighting gauntlets on either of his two hands.

My blood brother is going to be against me when I enter this first match.... Aiedan mused; a smile spread upon his lips, only blackened by the white rod sticking from the rift like a farmer would hold a piece of straw. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke from his lungs-- no one was in the close vicinity, so the wisp of smoke would cause no one any discomfort before it dissipated into the air. Aiedan had chosen not to share this fact with Ryan, for he figured that his blood brother would most like frown upon such a bad habit.

Aiedan’s clothing was as tattered as usual, keeping him inauspicious in the crowd of eighteen fighters, consisted of a short-sleeved, white turtleneck under a black jacket. Connected to his left hand was a bangle with an ornate gem within it, yet no one would see this under his jacket. His jacket was open today, revealing his shirt underneath and the fly of his jeans, faded with age and the knees nearly ripped open. His shoes were quite regular for a fighter-- not sneakers, but nothing too formal, either.

Taking one last breath from the shortened rod, Aiedan discarded the cigarette butt and exasperated one last exhale of smoke. He pressed his foot against the butt and killed the last cinders lingering within the paper. It would soon come time for him to face Ryan in their match, and he would not be one to disappoint; a cigarette would be nothing more than a distraction for Aiedan at the moment. Taking one of his hands, he ran it through his damp chestnut hair, still wet from the shower he had taken back in his hotel room, exposing his amber eyes as he reclined against one of the walls. Soon, he thought to himself with a smile, This will all begin...

[Ryan - Loki]

(OOC: Hah, you're not getting off the hook THAT easily my friend! I plan on giving you the thread of my life, and finally putting the rest the question that everyones asking...'Ryan or Robbie?' Heh...may the best man win, good luck.)

The brilliance of this year’s tournament was the particular system that it donned. The contenders had been given complete freedom, to an extent. The new system meant that the contenders of the tournament didn’t even have to walk out into the centre of the stadium upon the opening of their matches and many decided to take this option, for many different reasons, on the other hand for those who honoured the old style of tournaments and made their way out into the main arena upon the opening on their said match, this wasn’t the only point that allowed freedom in this years tournament.

Using much of the advanced technology of the city of Esperanza a special teleportation system had been especially designed for this year’s tournament, wired up with several millions worth of electronic camera equipment; this year was nothing more than a worldwide sceptical, everything money could buy. Many believed that the tournament was a terrible idea, and whoever had decided upon holding it would most certainly go to hell.

This was widely believed across Dragonia for one main reason, and a reason that everyone could relate to identically, because of the world war that had barely just finished. Millions of people had been killed within the war, countries had fallen and been destroyed, and yet a fighting tournament was being held in their honour? It was a hard concept to grasp, many believing that it was in fact dishonourable to all of their loved ones who had passed on. Nevertheless the producers of the television networks had faith that this years ratings would be higher than ever, despite the following events of the past year or so.

Despite the pain, the death, and the destruction, thousands upon thousands of people flocked to the relatively small city of Esperanza in an attempt to purchase tickets for the biggest event of the year.




Inside one of the many changing rooms within the main stadium building a lone figure sat upon a benched within the middle of the room, his body hunched over. The room was almost in complete darkness, the only form of light being a dim lamp on the ceiling in the top left hand corner of the room. The bulb within the lamp flickered violently, much like a strobe light, leaving the feeling of a room out of a horror movie. With every fluctuation of light the figure came into view, and then out again, in and then out. Each time the light reflecting off of his eyes, those azure blue eyes.

The eyes, doors to a persons soul, they showed such an immense mixture of emotions, of feelings, yet remained blank at the exact same time. It was a rare talent to be found, one being able to so easily hide their emotions, but for those who knew where and how to look he would remain an open book, on the most part; one disadvantage between family, and old friends. Yet those eyes, they were undeniably potent.

Through the flickering of light within the room sounded a dripping noise, the dripping of water from the tap at the sink over in the corner behind him. With the impact of each elegantly shaped droplet of water against the steel sink unit came a unique sound that echoed out through the air, followed by another, and another; a concerto of sounds.

Despite the flickering pigment of the bulb and the constant dripping of the taps he had slipped into a much needed, relaxed state of body and mind. It was outlandish considering the situations that he had forced his body and mind through over the past year or so, and in many aspects had pushed himself over his limits on more than one occasion and had paid the price tenfold each time. Nevertheless the time for relaxing had finished. The tournament officials had announced the first round match-ups and it was time to make his way from his desolate, dingy room and out into the entrance room of the stadium.

Through the flickering of the light the figure could be seen closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath of musty air before standing to his feet. Upon opening his eyes once again the figure merely stepped towards the door of the small changing room, placed his hand upon the doorknob and twisted it. Soon the echoing noise of a shutting door filled the empty corridor, it soon accompanied with the empty sounds of footsteps moving off into the distance.

Aiedan Vs. Ryan, a seemingly likely pairing in the eyes of the tournament officials, yet if there had been even the slightest hint that they had just known even a miniscule amount of the history the two held between themselves the pairing would have seemed almost fixed. Despite the links between them and the fact that they had both been through so much in the past, both of times recent and times long since past, Ryan did not believe in such a thing as coincidence; it seems the Elder Gods, or fate as it were, had a sense of humour.

As the figure, Ryan, moved slowly down the darkened corridor, his tattered cape flowing in through the air behind him, as many thoughts bestowed his mind. Aiedan stood two tall inches above Ryan, and twenty solid pounds more than him in weight too. It seems the advantage, in a physical sense at least, is in your court Aiedan… Ryan couldn’t help but remember when he knew Aiedan best, during the time they spent together growing up. Ryan had always excelled in the ways of the samurai, excelled in his teachings; much did Aiedan also but never to the same intensity, the same extent.

Soon a light began to form at the end of the tunnel, as cliché as that sounds, light beaming through the gaps in the door. He was approaching the entrance room. Before long he would walk out into the light and into a room full to the brim of each and every contestant of this years tournament. There were chances that he knew several of them, but at the same time there was just the same amount of chance that he in fact knew only one of them, Aiedan. Whether he knew every last competitor or but one of them it would not make the slightest difference in how he would undertake each battle he became faced with.

And just like that his hand was upon the handle, pushing the door open, and being engulfed with a light unlike dullness of those within the changing room and the corridor. If he had been paying some sort of attention to his surroundings while moving through the corridor, instead of being almost completely lost in deep thought, he would have heard the distant sound of voices, within the room, escaping through the gaps within the door alongside the light.

Upon entering the room hardly anyone really acknowledged the figure dressed in white, yet shrouded within a tattered blue cape and scarf, none but one. It seemed at the exact moment he had moved through the doorway their eyes met. It was a rare moment. Across the room Ryan had caught eyes with Aiedan, even if it was accidental, and both of them had shared another moment. Both knew what was to come between them. Although it seemed that Ryan had barely made it within the room in time, as upon the door closing behind him the room filled with a translucent blue glow and just like that everything went white; the teleporter had been activated and the tournament had begun.




Just as soon as everything had faded into a bright white glow he had once again phased back into reality, only this time he wasn’t within a room; he had arrived in Alundera, the hottest place on all of Dragonia. Ryan knew much of Dragonia, his teachings as a child having also included geography, and just like his teachings had informed him the continent was completely barren as far as his eyes could see, there not a snowflake upon its rocky surface unlike its sister continent. The very air was unbearably humid while the black gas clouds of recent magma explosions filled the air, it almost toxic to breath into the body. The smell of sulphur also filled the air, its disgusting smell not helping the conditions becoming anymore bearable.

As Ryan turned his head to look out over the wasteland it was clearly apparent that the crust upon the continent was extremely thin, to the point where volcanic mantle seeped through rifts and crags along the surface forming flowing rivers of disintegrating molten lava. Volcanic ash covered the sky above, preventing all heat from the continent escaping high into the planets atmosphere above, keeping the sky in a perpetual state of darkness, desolating both day and night. This could have as easily been the doorway between Hell and Dragonia.

Despite the sweltering heat and the added heat of his attire not even a single droplet of sweat had appeared from within the millions upon millions of pours that covered Ryan’s body. Nevertheless the samurai merely closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, only opening them again as he spoke. “It seems somewhat ironic that we were destined to fight against each other after everything that’s happened over the last few weeks…wouldn’t you agree, Aiedan?”

[A Dragonian]

It was like the calm before the storm, when the dark and ominous clouds linger directly overhead. The storm would soon arrive-- the crashes of thunder would be heard overhead as lightning illuminated the sky; rain would cascade from the heavens to the world below-- but no one person could deduce exactly when it would begin: it could be a matter of seconds, or even a matter of hours. No one would have an exact answer-- or, at least-- until the storm had officially arrived. Much like the oncoming storm, none of the fighters would know when their first bouts would begin; Aiedan was left just as curious as the rest of them.

Aiedan looked up from his private space on the wall, and he looked around the steel room around him. The Esperanza stadium had been built to be quite extravagant. Built in a fashion very similar to the coliseum designed by the Roman empire, the outside was built with no thoughts of pinching pennies. The multiply-tiered stadium surely lived up to its title of, “The Grand Stadium.” The insides were as nicely structured as the outside. Not only had the technology cost the people millions of the Dragonian currency, but decoration of the stadium brought huge debt to the town itself-- the net profit, however, would easily replace anything lost in the prideful expenditures.

But according to what Aiedan saw when his eyes darted around the room, however, the internal structure was only built to the bare minimum; the people refused to pay a penny extra on the parts that no one else would see. The room was filled with steel columns jetting from the ground every couple of square yards, giving the stadium a firm support from the ground up. The air had a damp feel to it, giving Aiedan the suspicion that they were at least a few feet underground. In fact, the ground they tread upon was nothing more than dry dirt. There were no fancy pictures hung upon the walls, no paint to give the lifelessness of the room more zest.

They were trapped under an iron sea. From above, the fighters could easily hear the clatter and chatter of the spectators preparing for the main event; at times, the noise was deafening. There were only two doors out of the room, one leading to the main arena, (Very few people chose to take this route, because it would expose them to the glory that only fighters that required it would want) and another door that led to the lockers. Shizuka-- the only female to participate during the year-- was given her own personal room to prepare, while the other fighters shared one locker room where they could end up preparing. These lockers also led into the internal structure of the stadium, but very few people chose to go out of the fighters’ private quarters.

From the many figures that stood within the room, there seemed to be somewhere between a baker’s dozen to one-and-a-half dozen fighters participating this year. Some people blamed this on the Saiyan invasion that had just recently swept over the planet, bringing support for a martial arts tournament rather low. Even when Aiedan had brought the majority of the deceased Dragonians back with the Crystals of Iniquity-- most people not knowing why loved ones had suddenly been brought back to life-- people still continued to fear fighting like it was a black plague. The few and the proud who had chosen to participate this year would be the only ones to experience the full effect of the new tournament system; Aiedan would get his fill of fighting by the end of his fourth match.

“Seriyu would have enjoyed this,” Aiedan said in a voice only low enough that his ears would register the vibrations; his head voice would also further the sound for him, so his words would that much more clear, while the best sound others would register would be mumbles from a teenage Dragonian. A smile picked up on his face as he lit up a second cigarette before his match and continued his thought. “Just give that man the excuse to pummel the crap out of something, and he would be there....He would have even brought a keg.”

Aiedan had only chose to enter this year because his mentor would not be participating; he had his own ticket-- had Seriyu been fighting, he would have most likely chosen to be a spectator with the others, and cheer on his favorite fighter-- but instead, he chose the path Seriyu would have taken: Life is just not a spectator sport for the adventurous. Aiedan signed up in place of Seriyu, and now he was going to take on the best and finest of Dragonia. Maybe, just maybe, Seriyu would be watching him in the afterlife.

Before Aiedan caught himself up in his thoughts of Seriyu too much-- before he would have brought back the pain of remembering the man’s death-- he chose to deter his mind and concentrate on his match ahead-- Aiedan VS Ryan: Battle of the Century. Two men with a history would soon be trading blows with each other, though no one would have known that from the outside. Aiedan and Ryan were just two extremely talented fighters, and as fate seemed to play tricks on them, they were paired off at the start.

Maybe somebody wanted us to fight....It would make sense to put us together in round one, then. Aiedan concentrated on these thoughts while his lips inhaled a breath of flaming ash. His hand reclined the thin rod of tobacco between his index and middle finger, pulling it out each time he went to exhale the smoke from the deepest bowels of his lungs, parts where his oxygen normally could not reach. We would both be in mint condition. We would have no excuses for holding back against one another-- without the waste of a single drop of energy, we can lay all of our cards on the table.

He exhaled again, losing the smile that was once on his lips, the fumes from his bad habit polluting the air. His hand flicked the cigarette once, and the dead ashes resulted from the combustion of paper and tobacco fell to the floor. With the ashes gone and the rod shorter, Aiedan went back to sucking on the butt of his cigarette. More ash filled his lungs, and the process continued again. Well, at least Ryan and I are going to have a little fun this year.... With his decision on the result of his match already made, Aiedan turned his thoughts to contemplation of a strategy for his match. He had to figure out exactly how their match might play out.

Aiedan had several advantages, but none of them came from his techniques or his physical appearance-- even if he had a height and weight advantage on Ryan. His advantage came from the unknowns that between Ryan and Aiedan. Growing up in the same village, they had the same teaching and principles. Nonetheless, their fighting resulted from something completely different. Aiedan did not grow up fighting, while Ryan had. In such, Aiedan had seen everything Ryan was capable of in their youth. He has no clue how I intend to fight this match....Sure, his arsenal might have changed a little bit since we last encountered each other,-- He exhaled again and dropped the ashes from his cigarette.-- But knowing something is better than knowing nothing, that’s for sure.

Ryan had seen Aiedan fight once before, but his observations would have been minimal, due to the fighting that had happened between the two of them, Seriyu, and Turgor of the Saiyan armies. The only thing Ryan would be definitely sure about was that Aiedan had some abilities from the Lunos invasion-- he had first-hand witnessed him use Dragon Scar, along with his healing abilities-- but beyond that, everything would be original. You know, Soren, it’s a shame you cannot fight alongside me. You would probably scare the piss right out of a few people.

I was hoping to scare the piss out of a few people, too... Soren retorted. Aiedan had been correct, though: The only way Soren would be able to enter this dimension would cause Aiedan to leave it; ergo, Aiedan would not be on the tournament grounds. It would lead to his disqualification. So, Soren had decided to relax this time around, and then fight with him some other time. If you don’t need me though, I’m going to head off clubbin’...

Do what you want with your personal life; at least I don’t have to deal with you reading anymore... They both shared a hearty laugh, and just as quick as Soren had entered Aiedan’s mind, he had left it. Once again, Aiedan was left to clear his head, concentrate on the battle at hand, and inhale and exhale from his cigarette-- which, by now, had grown down to less than a third of its original length.

There’s nothing else I can do to prepare for this match, Aiedan finally decided, getting off of the wall that he had been relaxing against. Stretching his ligaments, he had to readjust his body from the position it had grown accustomed to; his arms felt stiff. He stretched them, while he bent his knees to recirculate the blood pumping through his veins and arteries. He discarded his second cigarette and pressed his foot against it, killing the life he had created with his right hand and a lighter. There was nothing he could have done in that moment-- except light up a third cigarette, which he humbly decided not to do when he could tell his match would begin soon. I guess I’m going to have to rely solely on instinct for this one-- and with a little bit of luck, I’m sure Ryan and I are sure to give each other the match of our lives....

There was a clatter from one of the two doorways, causing several of the fighters interested enough to give a look at the source. The doorway led to the lockers, and the last fighter now emerged from the dark pits, where the lights had been turned off since everyone else had already departed. The doors creaked lightly, with the tiniest hint of old metal being recycled in the rusted hinges. As the double-door entrance was pushed open, in entered the eighteenth fighter.

This man only stood a few inches shorter than Aiedan, but someone could not have told the difference unless the two fighters had been paired up next to each other; this complimented his scrawny body, not muscular enough to show any signs of muscle underneath his clothing-- a white fighting outfit that worked as both a soft material and a form of armor, hidden under a tattered blue cape. His hair came off as being black, though with a close enough examination, one person might have seen the blue tint hidden within it. It only reached past the level of his shoulders, being held back by the blue headband on his forehead. His face bore the mark of war in the shape of several scars, but Aiedan knew that underneath his clothing, his body had many more marks to compliment those wounds.

Aiedan had joined the several fighters who looked up to see their new guest, his finely cut, sapphire eyes looking towards the man who stood short of a few yards away. This man, known formally as the sole survivor of the Jiaoimasu clan, did not look out into the eyes into the scenery around him, nor did he take in the site of the many fighters. Instead, his eyes focused upon the one person Aiedan knew he would look for. In that moment, two pairs of sapphire eyes had met on the exact same path-- Ryan’s strong eyes that showed no sign of emotion, and Aiedan’s who bore the maturity of a man far beyond his own years-- and they did not deter for as long as that moment lasted.

There was a sort of tension between the two, a compassion shared between the two that anyone who watched them might have seen as a rivalry between two combatants; yet, they could not be any further from the truth of the matter. The tension apparent between the two was a form of friendship in their eyes-- the kind that came from them were from many years of friendship between two friends, the friendship that existed between two blood brothers.

And just as soon as that moment had come between the two fighters, it departed them. Everything had suddenly grown into a translucent blue hue, engulfing the metal room that housed the many fighters. The light built up quickly, and then, suddenly, it was gone. With the departure of the bright light, the eighteen fighters that had rested in that iron sea beneath the stadium were gone. Suddenly, the screens in the stadium hummed into life, and the nine matches would be witnessed through the eyes of both opponents, along with a camera following along the match.

Officially, round one had begun for the eighteen fighters....

[A Dragonian]

(Second post...yes, my original one was THAT long. Now, of course, Ryan's going to try and out-do me, as usual. I can't wait to see him try... ;D This is going to be a change of scene, anyway, so it kind of fits where I split the post.)

Nobody in the tournament facility would have recognized the error that happened for two fighters as soon as they had been released from the tournament ring. Instead of going to their destined position, they had been warped to another location. The camera that was reporting from the continent of Bedoe buzzed around to try and find the two fighters that should have been there. But, from the eyes of Aiedan Aurion and Ryan Jiaoimasu, the environment could not have been any more different. It was a rare treat for those who got to see this match, because they were seeing this fight from a location that very few Dragonians ever saw in their lifetimes.

“Quickly!” shouted one of the officials from behind his desk to his tech support, working furiously at numerous computer terminals, “Switch to the Alundera camera! We need to give the people a decent view of this match!” Working as fast as they could, it would have taken the people working at the screen only a few moments to switch the main monitor for round one to a new server. Now, they had gone from the mountainous rocks of Bedoe to the south pole.

The man bit his lips, though, because even though these two fighters were shown on camera, they no longer had the same limitations as any of the other matches; had they chosen to, the two fighters could have moved anywhere on Dragonia they wanted. And for that reason, sweat beaded down his forehead. “Are they still in our jurisdiction?” After hearing several good replies, he sighed and settled back into his seat; after all, he was just like everyone else. He wanted to just watch the match.

The site was something to widen the eyes and gape the mouths of those several thousand Dragonians who focused their attention on that single teleprompter. The sky was the color of ash; whether it was day or night, no one could tell the a distinct difference. This black horizon spread in all directions, no signs of light filtering through the dark clouds. Yet, light was still emitted from the rifts in the surface of the ground, exposing pools of molten magma-- small amounts of light were picked up by the camera that focused on the two fighters, but they would not get the best view of the fighters’ actions during this round.

This foreign land that Aiedan and Ryan now stood on had no chances of being somewhere safe for either man-- many a Dragonian considered this land the final resting place for any damned soul. The ground had no support to it, only being the igneous rock formed by the molten magma created from divergent crust zones. At any second, the ground they walked upon could have rifted apart, creating another chasm filled with molten rock. The air was not clean, filled with the smell of sulfur and other minerals exasperated by a volcano. Breathing the air would fill the lungs of both men with foreign poisons that neither men would suffer greatly from, yet neither would find the taste comforting after a long amount of time.

In a sense, Aiedan had been given another advantage as he took an inhale of the air around him. From the time he had spent smoking, his body had developed a sort of immunity to foreign materials in the air. Each intake might have been poisonous to a normal man-- hell, it was still poisonous to Aiedan-- but he would find himself more able to take in the foreign substances without as much as a cough or a wheeze; this might become an lifesaving advantage later on in the fight. With that thought in mind, he smiled. Hope you’re prepared for this one, brother....

The two fighters stood only ten short yards away from each other. It was a nice beginning, but a quick burst of speed would dwarf the distance between both men; whoever made the first move, they would have to make sure they did it before the other.

The lighting might not have been enough for the people back in Esperanza to see where the two men standing on the closest thing to hell on earth, but the sound was perfect: the bubbling magma could be heard through a special microphone, and the rising heat distorted the vision of those who watched every second. Yet, when Ryan finally spoke, the speakers picked up every word without a problem. But, no one understood the importance behind Ryan’s words-- no one but Aiedan, that is. “It seems somewhat ironic that we were destined to fight against each other after everything that’s happened over the last few weeks...wouldn’t you agree, Aiedan?”

Before there came a response from the other man, a small bit of light illuminated from one of the two fighters. Aiedan held in his hand a ki ball, which gave more light to those who were watching the match; they could now easily depict Aiedan from Ryan. But, this also gave Aiedan the ability to see Ryan’s figure, and Ryan Aiedan’s. It amazed Aiedan to see that not a bead of sweat had yet to form on Ryan’s body; none had formed yet on Aiedan, either, but he was expecting the heat to soon take some toll on his young body.

Aiedan spoke, and it was not clear that he was the one talking-- albeit, there was enough hint that it was Ryan before, due to addressing Aiedan by his first name. “The irony is quite amusing,” Aiedan responded, the smile he was known for spreading across his face. He tossed the ki ball into the air, spreading the visibility out, and then growing dimmer as it fell back into Aiedan’s palm. He juggled it in his hand a few times, and then continued to speak.

“I guess fortune’s going to smile upon us, this time. We both are here, in prime condition, and have the hopes of victory set in our minds.” Aiedan was not stupid enough to know that their friendship would not deter Ryan from trying to knock the living snot out of his blood brother; the only difference was that they were doing it in their friendship, and after the last punch was delivered, the two of them would join each other in unity once again. “But, before we begin, I have a few things I want to say to you:

“Don’t hold back for me; just because we’re friends, I don’t plan to give you any slack, as I know our other friend shows you no mercy...” Aiedan’s smirk returned to his lips, and Ryan could clearly see the rivalry between good friends. If Ryan would have paid close enough attention, he would have known exactly who Aiedan was referring to. “And when this is over, know that I want to fight you at another time, another place....someday...when we are not as limited to how we choose to fight each other-- at least not under these conditions.”

He gave Ryan ample time to respond, to which Aiedan stopped juggling the ki ball. When his friend had finished, he spoke again; but this time, it came from another area: right behind him. “There’s just one more thing...” Yet, Aiedan still stood in front of him, where the ki ball rested in midair. It was merely an after-image, which soon faded away as he continued his further actions.

Using his raw speed used to attempt and surprise Ryan, Aiedan dove down and shot his leg out, swinging it in an arc. He was using this to attempt and trip up Ryan. Whether or not his friend avoided it, Aiedan warped again, back to where he once stood. He collected the ki ball back into his hand, where he absorbed it back into his bloodstream. Once again, everything had become dark, save for the light rising from the molten rock around them.

“And that one thing is this,” Aiedan said with another smirk on his face, about ready to break into a fit of laughter at the amusement. “Keep up, if you think you can...”

[Ryan - Loki]

(OOC: Sorry for the delay everyone, my computers crashed again and I’ve had to wait to use a computer, but I’ll be posting at every chance I get and my computer should be fixed soon. Oh, and before you all read this I might add I am NOT like the average man >_>)

A person is born. They grow up learning the traits of everyday life. They make mistakes, and then learn from them. They fall in love, presumptuously. Pain then, sometimes, follows in an unyielding pursuit. At some point they acquire a job of a reasonable stature. Once again they fall in love. They soon thereafter settle down in a family home. Children are then only two minutes of passion and nine months of excitement, and anticipation away. A family car is then required. Their children, or child in a singular context, is now growing up and begins the cycle that they, themselves, are still partaking in. The music starts getting louder. Slowly but surely their health begins to decline, perhaps unnoticeably at first. Many years within a soul draining job then follow where nothing much new happens during this time. The next stage is retirement. The music gets louder still, but it doesn’t matter because their hearings gone with old age. At a much more rapid rate their health declines. The angel of death falls upon them. Pain, and sorrow, is all that remains.

And so is the journey of life, for the average man or woman in today’s modern time. Aidan and Ryan were very much unlike that of the average person, in many different aspects of the word. Both were raised within strict traditions and a certain way of life, those in question being the way of the samurai. There is, however, a unique way of bringing up the child of the samurai.

From the time of infancy a samurai mother encourages bravery and avoids trivially frightening or teasing the child at all costs because if a person is affected by cowardice as a child, the samurai widely believe that it remains as an emotional scar for the remainder of their lifetime. It is a mistake for parents to thoughtlessly make their children dread lightening, or to have them not go into dark places, or to tell them frightening things in order to stop them from crying; a child must be allowed to progress completely naturally. Learning is to a man as the leaves and branches are to a tree, and it can be said that he should not be without it as learning is not only reading books, however, but also is rather something that we study to integrate with our own way of life; right and wrong are nothing but good and evil.

A Samurais nature and beliefs are strongly regarded as some of the most important qualities of their being that a Samurai can harness, the only other being their extensive knowledge of weapons and fighting. Young samurai children are thought to be generally keen to learn new things about their heritage and the ways of their people, from time to time excelling in all areas of their studies.

Fate is in Heaven, the amour is on the breast, and success is with the legs. Go to the battlefield firmly confident of victory, and you will come home with no wounds whatever. Engage in combat fully determined to die and you will be alive; wish to survive in the battle and you will surely meet death. When you leave the house determined not to see it again you will come home safely; when you have any thought of returning you will not return. You may not be in the wrong to think that the world is always subject to change, but the warrior must not entertain this way of thinking, for his fate is always determined; The Way of the Samurai is found in death. When it comes to death, there is only the quick choice of death.

The way of the samurai can be very appealing for that of an outsider, even more so than it sometimes can be for one within the clan, but the differences between those of a Jiaoimasian Dragonian and any other form of Dragonian are quite clear. Both Ryan and Aiedan were part of the Jiaoimasu samurai clan, the only difference between them being blood, and being that they were both considered samurai they both were brought up in the same lifestyle with the same values and beliefs, to an extent.

It had become intensively obvious that Aiedan had changed over the many years since the great tragedy of their people, if nothing his eyes told Ryan that much and this gave Aiedan a great advantage over his tradition following blood-brother. However there was one slight factor that would help draw the advantage back towards Ryan and that was Seriyu, a person they both shared a mutual link toward. Aiedan had been trained by Seriyu through the years that had passed since the great war of his people, something that Ryan wasn’t to have known, but upon being linked directly to Seriyu during their fusion they had completely shared everything with each other, past feelings, past memories, everything, and it was through these memories that the memories spent between Aiedan and Seriyu had become part of Ryan’s memory. It was as if it had been his and Aiedan’s memories, and Ryan wasn’t quite the same person either.

Whatever had happened to Aiedan over the years they had been under the impression they were the last of their people it had most certainly matured him greatly, many years in advance to his exact age; they were much in the same, in that sense. There was no way of Ryan to know everything that had happened to him, despite Seriyu’s memories, but in the same sense Ryan had seen his fair share of life’s cruelties.

It seemed the game was evenly matched, and this was before anything had even kicked off. Nevertheless there was one advantage that Ryan was sure to hold over Aiedan in a section of this battle, the way of the sword.

The art of swordsmanship has been in vogue for as far back as the papyrus scrolls can tell, and throughout the universe the art has evolved in many different forms; none, however, can match the grandeur, splendor, and the myths associated with the supreme sword – the Sword of the Samurai.

A man who has thoroughly mastered the art does not use the sword, and the opponent kills himself; when a man uses the sword, he makes it serve to give life to others. When killing is the order, it kills; when giving life is the order, it gives life. While killing there is no thought of killing, while giving life there is no thought of giving life; for in the killing or in the giving life, no self is asserted. The man does not see 'this' or 'that' ; he makes no discrimination and yet knows well what is what. He walks on water as if it were earth; he walks on the earth as if it were water. One who has attained this freedom cannot be interfered with by anybody on earth. He stands absolutely by himself.

The Samurai treasure their swords as they treasured their code of conduct; the sword was less of a weapon and more of an extension of the soul itself, and with Ryan its fair to say that this has become a reality. It was not uncommon for a warrior to lay down his life to save the honour of his sword.

The art of sword drawing remains one of the less popular martial arts but its philosophy lies at the heart of the samurai ethic. Two samurai face each other, inches apart. Their eyes study each other. Tense, yet oddly calm. Time passes. Then, in a second, the flash of silver blades, and a gush of scarlet. One collapses, dead. Having perfected the art of drawing, cutting and replacing the sword in a single motion, Ryan was noted to be the most skilled warrior with a sword amongst his people, even more so than that of Aiedan.




Alundera was without a doubt a sight unlike anything Ryan had ever laid his eyes upon, and if such a sight effected Ryan in such a way it was completely understandable to how the audience back at the grand coliseum would take the surroundings, especially since they had all expected the stone stronghold of Bedoe; even Bedoe’s bearable ecosystem became a paradise in contrast to Alundera.

It was widely thought, at least throughout the samurai, that a red sky within the morning hours of the day was the Elder Gods informing them that blood had been spilt on that passing night; however there was no such wisdom filled statement for such a thing as a black sky. It was as if the sun had been eradicated from the very sky and replaced with the toxic black filled sky. It was as if revelations, the last book of the bible, had come true and Armageddon had finally fallen upon Dragonia; this was Hell’s gateway and Ryan and Aiedan where within spitting distance of Lucifer’s throne.

At any rate neither man was safe, not only from themselves but mainly from their surroundings. If either one of them relaxed their guard for less than a second there was not only a chance of the other taking the advantage to end everything but also the chance that the very floor beneath their feet would crumble under their weight and they would plummet into a cascading river of liquefying lava where their flesh and muscles would be disintegrated along with their bones; not a particularly good way to go, by all accounts. Pockets of volcanic emission softly exploded in the shape of lava bubbles all around them, hissing gas filled toxins into the air all the while; the area was seemingly becoming more and more unstable with each passing second.

By all accounts both Ryan and Aiedan were shrouded by large amounts of darkness within the air, brought upon by the intensely dark toxins from the molten magma, the only form of light being the said magma beneath the cracked ground that they stood upon, it illuminating the surrounding area in an orange hue; it wasn’t the best form of lightning, but it gave a unique effect indeed.

Up until now nothing had been said between the two, apart from Ryan’s small sentence a few seconds before. The two warriors stood roughly ten to twelve feet from each other, but that amount of distance was child’s play for two warriors of their caliber, leaving no chance for either of them to discard their guard for even a millisecond. However for anyone within the area, who had even the slightest understanding of Ki energy, meaning only Ryan, a sudden serge of energy from within Aiedan could suddenly be felt; soon thereafter a small ball of the said energy materialized within his palm. Ryan however didn’t move.

“The irony is quite amusing,” Aiedan responded, a smile steadily creeping across his face while he somewhat juggled his ball of Ki. “I guess fortune’s going to smile upon us, this time. We both are here, in prime condition, and have the hopes of victory set in our minds.”
“Indeed,” Ryan simply replied before Aiedan continued to speak.
“But, before we begin, I have a few things I want to say to you: Don’t hold back for me; just because we’re friends, I don’t plan to give you any slack, as I know our other friend shows you no mercy...” It became instantly clear to whom Aiedan was referring to, so clear in fact that it caused Ryan to smile slightly, but unable to speak while Aiedan was speaking himself Ryan would wait. “And when this is over, know that I want to fight you at another time, another place.... someday ...when we are not as limited to how we choose to fight each other-- at least not under these conditions.”

A few seconds of silence then fell on the two samurai but Ryan didn’t speak, as he knew Aiedan wasn’t quite finished just yet, and he wasn’t. “There’s just one more thing...” By the time Aiedan’s words made their way to Ryan’s eardrums it quickly became apparent that Aiedan had not only stopped juggling the ball but that he was also no longer in front of him, but behind.

Now as confusing as this was for Ryan, if only for a millisecond, can one begin to imagine how confusing this must have been for the crowd who had gathered not only inside the coliseum, and those who had gathered around the many big screens dotted across the cities of Dragonia, but also all those people who had taken the time to stand up and turn on their televisions at home. In truth at least ninety-nine percent of the audience watching the said match was quite confused, either the man known as Aiedan was a trained ventriloquist, and was extremely talented at throwing his voice, or there was two of him; the latter seemed less likely.

However the truth of the matter differed from both theories, but at the same quite similar. Aiedan had moved so fast that he had in fact left behind what is known as an ‘after image’ of himself, giving the appearance that there was in fact two of him. Ryan had figured this fact out slightly too late. Before Ryan could react a swift connection with the back of his right leg was felt in full force but luckily the sheer surprise of the attack had knocked him off balance, so much in fact that his right leg staggered forward to supply sufficient support for his body weight meaning that Aiedan’s sweep only connected with one of Ryan’s legs.

Ryan fell upon his right knee, looking up at his opponent as Aiedan quickly faded back into his after image perfectly. It was almost as if he had never truly left, and Ryan was quite sure that the movements were in fact so swift and perfect that the audience watching would never know the difference; Aiedan had most certainly improved on all of his attributes since their last bout against each other, but then again that was a long time ago and they had both changed.

“And that one thing is this,” Aiedan comment, another smirk now apparent upon his face. He seemed about ready to break into a hysterical fit of laughter, at the amusement of the situation no doubt. “Keep up, if you think you can...” he finished.

Ryan, now down upon his right knee, looked almost as if he was bowing down to Aiedan, and that’s probably how the audience watching would have probably perceived the situation; considering how fast Aiedan had moved upon attacking Ryan he seriously doubted if they would have noticed it at all. “You’ve improved greatly Aiedan,” Ryan said softly as he looked up at him. Slowly pushing on his knee Ryan stood once more, looking down at himself as he brushed the black soot and ash from upon his, now relatively white attire. “Perhaps white was not the best choice in color for this location, wouldn’t you agree?”

It may have seemed weird that Ryan was making small talk rather than engaging in combat with Aiedan, perhaps even useless, but with their relationship mixing business with pleasure seemed nevertheless acceptable. “Much has happened since we last met many moons ago Aiedan, so much that at one point we must both sit down and have a good conversation.” In truth there was a reason behind keeping Aiedan preoccupied with small conversation. While Ryan spoke he was using an advanced form of Entropy Projection, more specifically the ability to convert energy.

In thermodynamics, entropy is one of the factors that determines the free energy in the system and appears in the second law of thermodynamics and with each passing second Ryan was converting the very energy below his feet, the molten magma. Using the tremendously cold temperature within his body, in comparison to the extremely hot temperature of the surrounding area and the lava below his feet, Ryan began to process of cooling the magma. In a large sense this process had already begun around this area before he had arrived here, being that the ground was solid enough in most places for a man of average weight to stand upon it, but there were still some gaps in which light was seeping through. Not for much longer.

“Light…the aid of sight, the bane of darkness,” Ryan spontaneously said, but in the few seconds that soon followed his words each and every crack that surrounded the area, for at least a mile, began to close at a rapid rate until there was nothing, nothing but darkness and the distant hue of slight orange illumination. With the last nearby crack closing a last wisp of flame ripped from the ground in a last ditch attempt to stay ignited; its wish was granted.
“And darkness….the bane of light, and the aid of the willing.” Ryan finished as he lifted his palm up towards his face. However, as he lifted his palm up towards his face that very wisp of flame rocketed up from the ground that was now closed and floated above his palm, moving much like water inside a container would do so as it took the form of a sphere. Instantly the small flame illuminated the area with intensity far beyond its mass, everything within close range lit with slightly more intensity than that of candlelight. “Let there be light.”

At this point Ryan ceased with words, it was reaching the point in time where actions were required as they said more than any words of politeness or harshness could compare too. It was clear to Ryan that he would be the first to attacking, not counting Aiedan’s attempt to liven the situation up prior, but committing into something that wasn’t planned out well enough could insult in injury or even worse, a loss in the tournament; perhaps his priorities were wrongly placed.

He knew of at least a large proportion of Aiedan’s arsenal, but not all of it. Anything that coincided with his days as a samurai and anything within that of Seriyu’s memories were fresh within Ryan’s mind, despite those of Seriyu’s memories being disorientated and somewhat jumbled up, but the plain fact was that Ryan knew these would no be Aiedan’s only tricks and being that he used to be a samurai he was well trained in moving on instinct only; this was going to be harder than he first expected the tournament to be.

Slowly Ryan closed his eyes and moved both of his hands, palms facing inward, on either side of the small ball of fire. It was quite clear that he was concentrating. Slowly but surely Ryan began parting his hands further and further apart and as he did so the single ball of fire began to stretch until it suddenly split, now there were two balls of fire, then three, then four, then five. At five Ryan finally stopped and lowered his arms back down to his sides, opening his eyes once more.

His expression was hard to pinpoint. There was a slight hint of a smile yet other than that his face was completely emotionless, a strong trait of his samurai upbringing. It was then that Ryan ever so slightly edged his right foot backwards through the ash that covered the ground, turning it somewhat as if he was preparing himself to pounce. Almost his entire body language then changed in accordance to the movement of his foot, it too obvious for Aiedan not to notice, even with the lack of light. “Oh and brother,” Ryan’s voice suddenly broke through the silence. “I’m faster than you’ll ever be.”

With the last few words barely leaving his lips Ryan flung his right arm upwards and in coincidence the fire ball on his far right suddenly shot up into the air like a meteorite or a shooting star, heading up and out in-between them. Ryan had then suddenly vanished from his position behind the remaining four balls of fire; he was now finally on the move. Shrouded by the darkness that he had created the samurai rapidly dwarfed the space that stood between him and Aiedan.

The audience watching, thanks to the advanced technology of Esperanza city, was able to clearly see the events unfolding within Ryan and Aiedan’s match upon the continent of Alundera, The South Pole. Flying just off from the ground, his feet were barely even a few inches above the ground a trail of ash and dirt kicked up due to the air pressure building up in Ryan’s wake as he continued to move towards Aiedan. With the wave of his left hand the ball of fire on the far left suddenly flew high up into the air in complete symmetry of its brother. It was then that the first ball exploded.

With the fireball’s explosion the entire area suddenly exploded into bright light, bringing everything into clear view; this included Ryan. However at the exact moment that it exploded Ryan had reached Aiedan and just thrown a swift right-handed hook towards the wanderers face, dragging it through to his right side; agility rather than pure force in this instance. In the fashion as it had appeared the light quickly faded, sending everything back into darkness. Following the punch through, whether it landed or not, Ryan used the punch’s momentum and span his body round, it now being on Aiedan’s right-hand side, and lifting his leg high into the air to finish the spin off with a kick to his face with the side of his foot.

As he did so the entire area lit up again with the explosion of the second fireball, a third already on its way high into the air. With the kick now following through also, once again despite whether or not it actually made contact with Aiedan’s face or not, Ryan landed in a crouching position behind the warrior and span his body round in the opposite direction than he had done so preciously, moving to do exactly to Aiedan what Aiedan had done to him just minutes ago, sweep his legs from underneath him. Once again the fireball exploded within the air, lighting the area in a flash of bright light as Ryan moved in for the attack.

Ryan wasn’t one to attack his opponent in the darkness, he had his honour to think about, and he wanted this fight to be fun than anything else and with the constant explosions of light, much like strobe lights within a nightclub, he, Aiedan and the audience watching were bound to enjoy the next twenty minutes or so, despite the overall outcome.

(OOC2: Oh, and by the way Rob… I OUT-DID YOU!!!! ;D)

[Archer]

Back in the splendour of the Grand Stadium, the Judges' voice rang through the halls of the veiwing area.
"This results are in, and the winner of this bout is...

RYAN JIAOIMASU!!!"

((Sorry for the shitty post, I can't be bothered to come up with any decent ideas. This was difficult to judge; especially due to the lack of posts to judge it from. However, I had to come to a decision, so this is it; long story short, the quality of written word was pretty much spot on equal, I thoroughly enjoyed reading everything that is above. Because of this, I had to boil it down to the actual fighting, and although Aiedan landed a hit, Ryan's attacks were unanswered, and he has set up for the rest of the fight. So thats the low-down of it; but as I've told Robbie on AIM, you guys need to have a decent, proper deciding fight. Do it in Roleplayers Annonymous if you need to, just DO IT >_>. Anyway, the points distribution is Ryan- 3, Aiedan- 2. Good luck to both of you in the rest of the Tournament.))