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Post by A Dragonian on Sept 4, 2006 2:37:33 GMT
Legends of Dragonia: Tournament 2006--
Esperanza Edition:
Round Two: Viva la Dragonia! Match: Ageleith VS Nishaio Final Score: 0 - 5 Location: Lavertia Starting Date: Monday, September 4 th, 2006 Ending Date: Saturday, September 15 th, 2006 Judge: Jimmy 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 environment. Also, be creative with what you do, and be sure to have fun! |
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Post by Tidus Revok on Sept 6, 2006 19:26:45 GMT
If Nishaio was disappointed when round one ended, his expression didn’t let it on. His face only reflected that same calculating stare that it had at the beginning. It was an expression devoid of any emotion, but not a blank expression by any means. On the inside, he was sorry to see the fight end. Falkan Reval had proven to be a worthy opponent. Before they disappeared from the battlefield, Nishaio gave a slight bow to his opponent. It was the first sign of respect he had shown anyone for a long time. He would fight this one again…he would see to it.
But that had been hours ago. Now he stood in the corner of the fighter’s lounge, eyeing the other warriors with that same silent gaze. Everyone else seemed to be doing pretty much the same thing…standing around and looking at one another.
That pointless exercise didn’t last very long, however. About the time Nishaio was considering abandoning the whole fight and going home, the next matches were announced and the blue glow of the teleporters surrounded the warriors. Next thing he knew, Shimato found himself in the middle of a forest. The canopy of the trees overhead shrouded the area as far as one could see in shadows, with only the occasional ray of sun punching through to the forest floor. The trees were as thick here as anywhere Nishaio had ever seen, providing cover, escape routes, and ambush points to the heart’s content. It would be difficult for most to build up any speed for an attack in a place like this, but for a Falcome, it was perfect.
Falcomes had many unique traits to their race, one of which was their muscle structure. In the Falcome physiology, bone and muscle were the same thing. The skeletal structure was interlaced and even composed of super-dense muscular tissue, making the bones flexible, solid, and instantly responsive. For a human, the process of movement took only a split second – the time needed for the brain to generate the signal, which was carried down the spinal cord and on to the muscles, which then moved. With time and training, that moment could be reduced significantly. But for a Falcome, the whole process was instantaneous. The Falcome brain was even more intricately connected than that of a human or a Dragonian. The thought and the movement of a muscle were one and the same. For that reason, speed would never be a losing battle for a Falcome. One of Nishaio’s kind would never have to build speed. It was there the second he wanted it. Maneuvering in the thick forest would be like breathing for Nishaio Shimato. He couldn’t wait to see his next opponent.
But so far there was no sign of him. Unsure whether it was due to his not arriving yet, or the enemy beating him to the idea of an ambush, Nishaio thought it best to disappear, at least for the moment. In the blink of an eye, he was a hundred feet away from his original location, perched effortlessly on a large branch midway up an ancient tree. Happy with his position, he took out the handles – all that were left of his two swords, and turned them over in his hands for a moment. Then he smiled. The audience who had been watching from the stadium and seen his swords broken were probably placing their bets on the assumption that one of his key weapons was gone…it would be fun to dissapoint them. He took a hilt in each hand and firmly slammed them into their places in the sheath on his back. He held them there a moment, and then withdrew – two perfectly new swords. The Tenjou, an elite unit of fighters in Civea, of whom Nishaio was one, were quite attached to their swords…but only the handles. Realizing that blades were meant to be used, the Tenjou only considered the hilt the true sword. The blades, to them, were more of an accessory. So one’s heritage, rank, and honor were all tied into the sword’s handle. Blades were interchangeable, and one usually carried several spares with him. Nishaio was no exception. Now, re-armed, rested, and hidden, he awaited the arrival of his opponent.
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Post by Jimmy Claymore on Sept 16, 2006 17:45:06 GMT
((w00t, Default! So easy to judge...))
A long pause rolled over the Arena and another sigh
"We're sorry to say that Ageliath has NOT arrived, Nishaio wins by default" In the stands a man shouts loudly
"GODDAMNIT! I've yet to see a fight, if my third ticket ends like this I'm coming for your hide Anouncer Man!!"
"Yeeeah, bring it wuss, anyway
THE WINNER IS NISHAIO!
Shame, I wanted to see this one"
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