Open Challenge: Dyew vs. ?

[Arden]

Monocromatic Stains, Dark Tranquillity (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3F1W8HJLV5s)

http://img695.imageshack.us/img695/4199/sceneanvernus.jpg

The first layer, Avernus, is a vast charred wasteland of rubble over which the iron towers of the Dukes of Hell stand. Legions of devils march across the plains in continual readiness for the next battle of the Blood War. A red light suffuses the sky and huge fireballs fly across the layer, randomly exploding wherever they hit. Beneath the blood-red sky balls of fire burst unpredictably. They are said to be embodiments of the rage of the imprisoned Lord of the First, Zariel.

http://img835.imageshack.us/img835/4514/dyewleft.jpgHe was here hunting devil's to extract their essence for his mate for she was a psionic vampire. He was attired in the garb and gear he wore when he expected combat but needed to travel swiftly. His face, head, and back were covered in a dark cloak that writhed. His shoulders, arms, wrists, and hands were encased in plate while his chest was protected by a chain link hauberk. Under all this and hiding the cloth garments that covered his legs and feet was leather that gleamed as if embroidered with a spider's silk. Between the leather and the cloth was an intricate system of straps, a technique harness that provided him an edge and allowed him to use his impressive physical speed and strength to its full effect.

Upon his left forearm was a strange round shield. Resting upon Dyew’s back was a double ended spear about five feet in length. His sword was already bloodied and in hand, used to cut down a minor devil that got too close. The stroke did not kill the fiend, it was not meant to. His left hand extended, palm open, ready to seize the devil's essence. "This is a start."

-- The Warden's Cloak is active, providing existential, dimensional, and planar anchoring. He can not be unnaturally pulled, pushed, or shifted by his will or against it through or beyond the planes, dimensions, or existence as a whole. He can not be erased or removed from existence without causing irreparable damage to existence.
Health Level: Healthy - Dazed - Injured - Wounded - Incapacitated - Near Death
Weariness Level: Hale - Winded - Tired - Weary - Spent - Exhausted
Ond Level: Minor - Lesser - Common - Greater - Superior

[Inception]

The audacious highborn simply comes to be. There are no spectacular entrance heralding his arrival, nor is there a single sound pending his appearance. Upon a single blink he is upon his opponent, twenty meters separating their presences from each other. Flicking the tip of the rapier to his side, he begins amassing power within his weapon as he progresses from where he stands and approaches the soon to be engaged foe. The memories of times long since past flood his mindscape, and he remembers the motto's and lessons forced into his mind through countless battles with others of insignificant value.

Aquamarine eyes never draw from his opponent, and quick footsteps grant him a decrease in five meters between the two. The left hand is folded across the back, while the right points the rapier's tip towards the foe before him, primarily leveled with the torso. There is nothing that the dignified aristocrat cannot accomplish in his mind, and anything that he can shatter or break within thought can also be broken within reality. That is his philosophy, and he plans to show that as the battle begins.

[Malum]

"Hmm.." Himu thought to himself, "Two men."

"Are we going to fight?" Urnok spoke in half whisper to Himu.

"I think so..."

Perched quite a ways away Himu sat looking at the two men as they eyed each other among the ruins. It really was quite a shame, Himu had been watching the man with spear and shield hoping to gain some sort of one on one battle with the man. It was the sort of honourable fallout that was left over from a time when the word still held meaning. Of course it probably still did, but Himu never bothered to encounter it.

"Stay here, I'll be back" Himu placed Urnok down on a fallen piece of stone. Urnok much enjoyed watching Himu fight and so he tried to give him first class accomodations for any such event.

Himu pressed his foot against the stone floor and lept forcefully, jetting his form through the air until he descended upon one of the four tall stone monoliths that cornered a square platform that the combatants seemed to have chosen for their fighting grounds. Armed with his katana at his left hip, sheathed within a scabbard that was composed of a bizarre seemingly metallic (though organic) substance.

"So..." Was all he said, expecting one of them to speak up, or make the first move...


______________________________________

I'm in the processing of updating Himu Kahn's profile sheet to more accurately reflect his character for combat, it will be up before any measures are taken by my character. order. hopped into the fight, if you want to keep it one on one, Himu will just face the winner, if not we can have a 3-way. It's up to you.

[Arden]

http://img820.imageshack.us/img820/6319/braverleft.jpgA warrior, another moth to the flame that is combat. Speaking of flame: A ball of fire screams from the sky, howling its rage as it plummets. Still facing away from his opponent, he raises his shield and crouches. Fire engulfs him, cages him. Stone rattles and shakes with the impact and in the wake of the explosion dust covers the field, blocking natural sight.

He rises, defiant, indomitable in a circle of molten glass and turns to face the man who would posture against him here on the first layer of hell. His left foot is brought before him as is his shield, a barrier between him and his would be opponent. The same hand flexes, the wrist bends, and the center of the shield starts to rotate. The sharp tang of ozone suffuses the air. The edges of that shield are deadly sharp and perilous to weapons wielded against it.

The air trembles, potential energy building, awaiting release. Muscle, tendon, and bone stand at the ready and soon his will shall join the battle. The right, rear foot turns slightly and the ground moans, anticipating the surge forward but he does not move. The sword is held slack in the right hand as the highborn advances to fifteen meters.

Wind parts the dust and clears the battlefield as the sound of drums tear through the air and his consciousness. The sound invigorates his spirit, readying him for the coming battle, and steeling his body from the assaults that are sure to come. The magic coils within him.

Battle is joined by another who sits atop a monolith twenty meters to his right and rear. Dyew is surrounded, a disadvantageous position. He turns his blade, flipping it and holding it as a murder holds a knife. That same hand rose to the clasp on his left breast and turned the sigil counter clockwise. The wrath and life seem to drain out of his cloak as it becomes white with bands of dark script. His hand rises to pull down his cowl. “Greetings.”

-- Rond, Perseverance - Minor
-- Dyew is recovering Ond at a rate of one level every five seconds.
-- Guardian Rhythm I - Dyew receives minor reductions in any damage he takes.
Health Level: Healthy - Dazed - Injured - Wounded - Incapacitated - Near Death
Weariness Level: Hale - Winded - Tired - Weary - Spent - Exhausted
Ond Level: Minor - Lesser - Common - Greater - Superior

[Inception]

The hellfire setting does not strike fear into the heart of the aristocrat, but rather instead amplifies his spirit and determination accordingly. The steps halt at fifteen meters, and the right hand descends, bringing the tip of the rapier into the dirt as their vision is obscured by billowing smoke. Just as it clears to reveal his foe again, his foe will notice nothing particularly different about himself. The ground beneath him is lightly scarred, a circle and sigil compromised of eight strokes to form the symbol of strength. The only visually apparent difference is that he has stopped and his positioning is just as it was just before the smoke engulfed them both. Aquamarine eyes of apathy betray the foe, for in his mind he is sure that victory is imminently his.

Meanwhile, Himu lands upon a monolith and looks down upon them both. Twenty meters behind him, it's clear that the battle has been joined by yet another participant. The sigil beneath him begins to strengthen him, causing his posture to strengthen and his clench upon the rapier to become empowered. All the while, the amassing energy of the rapier continues its increase, giving off a hum and to the eyes that could perceive that of supernatural weaves, tendrils of platinum that whip into the air and viciously consume his area. They have no bearings on the foes, but they are however a indication that the rapier's surging power is continuing its ascension.

[Malum]

How splendid, Himu had the pleasure of being in the company of a boisterous man of flash, and an aristocrat, neither of which he saw fit for the battlefield. However there were most certainly, as always, stories behind the two that could make them formidable opponents. Himu would take the opportunity to test the waters and see how much fun he could suckle from their encounter.

He was positioned behind the cowled man who bore an impressive shield, and was elivated from both his combatants, a most advantageous standpoint for him. With arms folded, he summed his blade from his hip to his right hand, tucked comfortably under his left elbow. Still sheathed, he kept it in his grasp and watched the two below. He did not bother to return the greeting sent to him, formalities were a silly thing to bother with when trying to take each other's lives. That, and Himu didn't want to seem any more accomodating than the rapier wielding aristocrat.

Himu took his left hand and curled all but his index finger and thumb, makng the form of a gun with his hand. Closing one eye he used his thumb as a sight and lined it up nicely to the back of Dyew. Energy surged down Himu's arm and concentrated itself into a sphere with a half inch diameter. It was a very silent thing, this condensed ball of mana, it spun furiously but emitted no sound. It was a tight, well refined piece of arcane ability that focused a lot of pressure onto a small point, a point he intended to stab through Dyew. Himu pulled his thumb down and launched the small sphere of energy towards the small of Dyew's back, the portion of his body that would take the longest for him to move out of the way. The sphere flew at speeds that would make a mockery of world series pitchers and carried the piercing potential of a hot needle. He would see what would come of his new prey.


Mana/ki sphere - No explosive potential, will easily burn/pierce through steel armor with little effect to velocity

[Arden]

Break the Sword of Justice, Tsubasa Chronicles (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_UXXSQbmp8)

http://img820.imageshack.us/img820/6319/braverleft.jpgHimu aimed down his arm and fired. “Humph.“ Dyew exhaled, glass trailing behind in his furious movement. He was quick, extraordinarily so, but nothing that could be categorized as jaw-dropping by people like Himu or the aristocrat. Gravity clutched at him and he descended with it to the monolith at Himu’s left side. Faster and faster the central disk on that barrier rotated.

He took two steps off the edge of that grotesque idol, turning his weapon as he went. The drums boomed, doubling in strength and rhythm. Knees bent and the statue shifted violently. This was nothing like the speed he demonstrated in his leap. Celerity of this magnitude is held only by things composed of stuff ethereal. He was upon Himu, perhaps before the fellow’s jaw could drop.

Shield before him and sword resting upon the highest sharpened blade of that barrier. The blade’s level would cause it to pierce the very top of Himu’s sternum. The shield would strip flesh and chip bone in its expeditious rotation. Ground beef peeled off Himu’s frame would not fall to the ground uncooked. The shield would discharge an electrical arc if it made contact with Himu causing him to briefly become incapacitated, stunning, and charring his flesh.

-- Rond, Perseverance - Lesser
-- Dyew is recovering Ond at a rate of one level every five seconds.
-- Guardian Rhythm II - Dyew receives lesser reductions in any damage he takes.
Health Level: Healthy - Dazed - Injured - Wounded - Incapacitated - Near Death
Weariness Level: Hale - Winded - Tired - Weary - Spent - Exhausted
Ond Level: Minor - Lesser - Common - Greater - Superior

[Inception]

Perhaps before either could sufficiently comprehend the power of the child, he had already demonstrated it sufficiently. Just as one figure had turned his back to him to deal with the other, he would be in great peril. The moment that he had moved onto the monolith, the child had already disappeared, but it likely wouldn't be discerned. Not only was his spiritual signature close to none, but the many distractions and other more greater things of concern was occurring before them. The knees of the foe Dyew bent and upon rocketing forward, he'd find something had flickered just behind him.

Infact, the rapier and the boy appeared synonymously upon the moment of the foe's take off. Occurring at the exact same moment, the rapier was thrusted sub-consciously, a automatic action that was derived from his lessons of simplicity and workings of fencing. A beam extended from the tip of the blade and careened forth towards the back of the foe, aiming to tear through him and push through the other side, impaling him deeply in the center of his back. The right hand had given about a mighty thrust of celerity given by unwavering strength and amassed energy.

However it hadn't ended. Even as he was thrusting the blade his left hand came to a clench. The strength he had been granted by the sigil would not go to waste, he certainly had more use for its enchantment upon his body. So the left hand remained vigilant by his side while the right acted in hopes of catching and destroying the target who was so trained and focused upon the foe before him.

[Malum]

So it seemed this Dyew had an extraordinary sense of his surroundings considering his evasion of a blindsighted attack. The sphere shot into the ground and continued into the earth for several meters before stopping. There it remained, spinning within its self sustaining pool of concentrated energy. There it would stay, for now.

Meanwhile, Dyew had prepared a launch upon Himu, not surprisingly so considering Himu's attempt to claim his life after such short notice. He wasn't great with introductions, but even that was brash for Himu. But what was this? Interference?! To Himu's delight, the aristocrat intervened! This was an action that was most befitting of a trademark, and tastelessly cliche, smirk that adorned Himu's face. He couldn't help it, he was just granted time and safe passage to prepare his next onslaught without having to formulate a defense.

The left hand that Himu that had formed into a gun shape changed, tucking his thumb into his palm and extending each of his four fingers. Atop each of the four fingers, the same spherical manifestation of mana formed, but with quite a different signature than the one he previously shot. These were of much different origin, and were each enchanted with a chilling quality that wrapped them tightly within the bonds of cryomancy. Himu outstretched said hand and looked down upon the two fighting and analyzed their movements while pouring the essence of mana and ice into each of the four spheres.


Mana sphere - Neutral alignment, under ground, dormant (though still in play)
Cryo-spheres, Stage 1(1st prep) - (4) - Mana infused with ice enchantment.

[Arden]

http://img820.imageshack.us/img820/6319/braverleft.jpgHe takes two steps off the edge of that grotesque idol, turning his weapon as he goes. The drums boom, doubling in strength and rhythm. He goes over the precipice and his knees bend. Dyew is intimately aware of his immediate surroundings and knows the boy is behind him, extending his arm to strike. The moment finds him in space, unable to push off any solid object. He can not avoid the assault and so he braces against the inevitable.

The rapier meets resistance before it even reaches the hauberk. The musical magic can not hold back the assault, it only blunts it. The weapon strikes, hitting right of the aristocrat’s mark. White hot current courses across the right side of his back. He resists the effects of the electrical current but the hit bruises him badly, popping ribs. The strike fails to breach the valorium links and the contact causes him to spin. He goes with it. Godr cuts the air as he performs a full circle but finds the length of his blade wanting for the distance he falls in that small amount of time. Spanish guitar blossoms into the air, joining with the drums in a furious duet.

The balls of his feet make contact with the monolith closer to its base. He kicks off, performing an inverted summersault. That ring of glass finally finds his soles and he skids backwards, back now facing Himu. “Frodleiker!” The air vibrates with the force of his voice and he spins. Godr cuts the wind, naught but a white spear as it crosses the distance to Himu’s smug face. At the same time the sphere of compressed mana in the ground and those charging about Himu’s fingers lance across the field to impale the aristocrat at twice the speed of Himu‘s original throw.

It was not easy to wrest control of the energy from the cryomancer but a warden’s magic is not something that takes no for an answer. The magic coiling within him did the job with a sledge hammer and then came to him for payment. The added speed was caused by the cryomancer’s desire to maintain control of his creation. The tension created between the two was used to increase the projectile’s velocity when Himu’s tenacious hold on his handiwork snapped. The drain on the warden was immediate but not overpowering and certainly not unexpected.

-- Rond, Perseverance - Moderate
-- Dyew is recovering Ond at a rate of one level every five seconds.
-- Guardian Rhythm II - Dyew receives lesser reductions in any damage he takes.
--Hymn of Restoration I - Dyew is recovering Health at a rate of one level every twenty seconds.
Health Level: Healthy - Dazed - Injured - Wounded - Incapacitated - Near Death
Weariness Level: Hale - Winded - Tired - Weary - Spent - Exhausted
Ond Level: Minor - Lesser - Common - Greater - Superior

[Inception]

The angels sing in glory of his triumph, but that is only the first trial of Rynhart. The moment his foe's been attacked, he is gifted with several moments to make preparations for what is to come. The aristocrat can clearly see the coiling spheres of icy origin, and so he falls backwards from the top of the monolith, just as the attack cut across the distance between them and strikes the top of the monolith angrily. The icy spheres explode above, and the rocks heralding from the sky that would normally pose a threat, posed none at all.

The monolith's construction was huge, and so were the rocks, and this is used to his advantage. One of the boulders has already fallen past him, and so his right foot taps it, and hence the initiation of several complicated leaps and bounds are committed. It is true, he has the perception, speed, and agility to initiate what he was doing, but strength, endurance, and immunity to magic are indeed his weak points. And so he makes up for them accordingly.

Soon he landed upon a decoration of the arena, a monolith just beside it's father who half its own size. A rune is once again carved into the top of the monolith, and this one pulses, as does the one within the arena. The strengthening of his strength begins its resolve, and he gains times four more than he does previously. The rune's are within fifty meters of each other, and hence they are both linked and apply to give him an even further addition of strength. Now he stands there, staring at the two out in the distance, while accordingly focusing more mana into his weapon in an amass of energy.

[Malum]

I withdraw.