[FTD: 2 / Round 1] Maeryn Gray vs Wolf

[Ran Iji]

Maeryn Gray

Spoiler:

Name: Gray, Maeryn
Aliases: None
Highest Rank Obtained: N/A
Rank: None
Race: Celadrin (fae)
Place of Birth: Dalelands of Faerûn
Age: 23
Visual Age: Late teens
Date of Birth: 12/1
Blood Type: -A
Classes: Fochlucan Lyrist/ Sublime Chord [Bard/Druid]
Alignment: Neutral
Occupation: Bard
Religion: Nature Base
[.II] Physical Characteristics
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 135
Build: Athletic
Hair: Red
Hair Length: Long
Hair Texture: Wavy
Hair Style(s): Wind swept
Eyes: Golden
Teeth: Straight.
Laterality: Amberdex
Skin Tone: Slightly Bronzed
Voice: Quiet
languages spoken: English, Elven, Celestial
Personality: Maeryn is a well spoken and charismatic person, he gained this ability through preforming on the road as a bard. Maeryn perfers to speak things out over fighting, using his power of suggestion, and way with words get him what he needs or wants.

Diet: Plants
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Identifying marks:
Golden eyes, and flaming red hair

[.III] Additional Information
Magically Attuned: Yes
Psionically Attuned: Yes
Known Schools of Magic
Bardic Look
Bard Knowledge
Bardic Song
Arcane Magic
Geomancy
Divine Magic

Innate/Learned Abilities:
•Geomancy: Through racial ability, Maeryn can manipulate the earth.
•Slight of Hand
•Uncanny Reflexes: Racial
•Song Magic
•Blind Sight: Racial
•Extended Throw: Learned, Fochlucan College
•Accurate Assessment: Learned, Fochlucan College
•Acrobatic Strike/Defense/Attack: Racial
•Agile Performer: Learned, Fochlucan College
•Bleeding Critical: Learned, Fochlucan College
•Counter Throw: Learned, combat time
•Musical Genuis

*Note: Speed and strength a far more advanced than a human, slightly more powerful than a vampire, but weaker than most lesser demons.

Derangements:
None

[.IV] Traveling Bard

From a young age I was taught to act, and sing in front of large crowds. I suppose I owe my success to my father and mother who mentored me when we were on the road as preformers. I learned to act from a very young age, soon after came the study of the lute, and cheap magical parlor tricks to woo crowds between main preformances. Among the lessons I was taught history was the utmost importance. Once my parents became to old to travel, I took it upon myself to take up the road again.

When on the road I recieved an invitation to the Fochlucan College. I was seventeen at the time of the invitation and after weeks of traveling I spent four years mastering the art. During those four years I did many missions as a spy. I did several missions undercover in many kingdoms spreading misinformation through song.
After what seemed like a lifetime of work, I finally resumed my role as a traveling minstrel.


[.V] Combat Abilities

Rating System -
Poor
Average
Good
Proficient
Excellent

Weapon Proficiencies -
- Unarmed (Excellent)
- Daggers (Excellent)
- Short Swords (Proficient)
- Long Swords (Proficient)
- Great swords (Poor)
- Hammers (Poor)
- Maces (Poor)
- Spears (Poor)
- Whips (Proficient)

Basic Stats:
- Acrobatics: A
- Athletics : B+
- Mana Control: A
- Psionic Control: B
- Damage Threshold: C+
- Flexibility: A+
- Intelligence: B
- Mana Pool: B
- Total Ability: B+
[Combat Class: Story, Mild Powers]

Weapons of Choice: Daggers

Equipment
5 Malacite Daggers
Extra harp strings
1 Folk Harp
1 flint thumb cover
1 Steel finger cap with rough edges (creates a spark with the flint)
5 small but bright flares.
5, 3 shot powerful pyro technic (roman candle like). Upon impact cause an incendiary effect.
3 Viles of paralytic poison (can enter the body through the skin)
3 Viles of a highly flammable liquid (burns for 20 seconds at a high heat)
4 blue, white, red, and green smoke bombs. Creates a high concentration cloud.

vs

Wolf

Spoiler:

Basic
Name: Wolf
Race: Human/primal
Age: Millennia
Birthplace: Gaea
Alignment: Good
Class: Thaumaturge
Sub-Class: Fighter
Occupation: N/A
Elements: Wind, fire
Weapon: Bayonet, fighting knife
Armor: Mythrill tunic

Personal
Hair: Platinum
Eyes: Golden
Skin: White as snow
Body: Lean
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs.

Abilities
Preternatural strength
Psionics
Wolf's bite
Fire magick

Immunities
None

Resistance to his own magick

Equipment
Empty rifle fitted with bayonet, Bowie knife

--Ziren: Profile layout.

If a judge is needed, please PM either --Rob or myself. We will then post the issue in our private group.

[Tidus]

Jingle, jingle...

The sound of Maeryn's anklets would be heard from their unique sound, each stride of the fae caused the three silver charms to rattle together to make their unique sound. It was a sound that Maeryn had become used to over the years. As a bard, the man was always used to the aroma of humans and other tavern dwellers from all walks of life; it was a rarely that he was able to enjoy his home, the outside.

The faerie allowed the long grass to caress the pads of his feet, and the palms of his hands as he ran them over the top of the emerald strands. The simplicity caused his lips to curl into a homely smile, and his feet to settle into a spot that would allow his eyes to travel the waves of plant life before him. It was so peaceful.

The bard's harp was gently settled onto his left hip, held secure by a chain of silver, looped around his slender dancer's frame. He did not wear much in the way of clothing, his pants and cloak looked to be woven of the finest faerie materials, each looked as white as the clouds in the sky. In turn this made his bronzed form stand out, and his flaming hair look brighter than it actually was. Each piece of his equipment was placed within their places in his cloak and commited to memory, he would never mistake one pocket from another, never grab a wrong piece of equipment.

The bard found himself at peace for the moment, so he settled into a sit in the tall grass, and allowed his golden eyes to watch the sky.

[Primal]

Under the grey sky, the fae roamed a field of roses on the outskirts of the city.

He let his hands dangle at his sides so that his fingertips could brush the tall grass protruding from the earth.

He canted his head in the direction of a jingling noise, and spotted, sitting in the field, another fae with eyes the color of his own. He immediately sized the red-haired fairy up, noting that the other creature was much smaller than he, and continued on the approach.

[Tidus]

Maeryn's fingers dug into the soft soil, his body shifted to more of a "bouncing kneel" than a sit. He could feel it, he felt connected to the earth, a natural born spirit; and with this he would speak with it. It was as if they had some sort of understanding, energies that were once normal began to peak out and merge. This energy was not one of mana, not the drawing of a mage. This was more of a conversation and peak of natural earthly energy.

The earth spoke back to the man, the strains of emerald grass clashing together in the wind was answer enough for him. His eyes narrowed as the tales of the grass spoke of another in the field, and Maeryn's form stood to its full height. Though his fingers were removed from the soil, his connection to the earth remained through the souls of his feet that remained in contact, and that natural earthly energy still continued to ride upwards to a noticeable peak.

The fae giggled, the sound echoed edge lewdly and wild through the empty field.

"What brings you here... Thing?"

The faeries words seemed to stress the last word from his mouth as if it were disgusting.

[Primal]

As the wild fae spoke and giggled lewdly, the primal did not respond. His bare feet slid across the earth, found purchase in the soil as his stance widened. He rolled up the sleeves of his mythrill tunic, which was spun of fine silk and elven silver, and held his open hands out in front of him, eyes darting back and forth as the pace of his breathing increased slightly.

[Tidus]

The fae's eyes found the man, and he watched the movements of his hands. The earthly power the bard drew upon still rose as gently as a rise and fall of a woman's chest in a peaceful sleep. He grinned.

The power would be released, as Maeryn grabbed his harp and began to rapidly strum the strings. The chords struck outward, and infused in the sound came the loud shriek of Maeryn's voice. It took seconds for the magic to strike. Part of it muffled the bard's ears protecting him from his own shriek, the other infused with his vocals to create the move: "banshee's cry".

The mana infused in the vocals made them reach an octave loud enough to cause the grass around him to ripple as if a storm were brewing, the point of the move was to completely perforate both eardrums of his enemy, which cold easily knock him unconscious or, in the best case, disorient him greatly.

The enemy was easily only seventy feet from the bard, and the attack traveled at 116.4 feet per second. The opponent would have less than a second to react.
====
Active attack: Banshee's Cry
Estimated time to impact: Slightly less than a second
Damage of attack: to render unconscious; or disorient balance and hearing of the enemy.
Caster precaution: Magic buffer muffle, makes the bard immune to his own sound

[Primal]

As the bard began to play, the primal's golden eyes widened, turned a ghostly white. Magic flowed from his nervous system into the material world, formed a globe of rotating wind about his body. The wind buffered even the deep octaves emanating from the bard's harp, although the primal was disoriented slightly from the first wave of notes.

The primal dashed forward, stumbling the first few steps, and unslung the rifle at his back, using his right hand to hold the weapon by the wooden forestock.

His form was quick; he covered the distance separating one fae from another in mere seconds, snowy hair billowing in the wind of the gathering storm.

When he reached the bard, he opened his left hand and released the wind concentrated about his physicality in a blast of gale force that could potentially rend some of the flesh from the other fae's body and send him skipping across the field like a pebble hurled across the surface of a pond.

If he had been preparing another attack, the red-haired fae's focus would surely be disrupted if he was hit.

[Tidus]

The bard smirked as he watched the slight disoriented movements of the wolf, and took note of the magic he summoned into the world, the lyirist simply shifted the fingers from the strings of his harp a tune chance that happened so quickly the songs seemed to meld together. The bards voice continued to boom; edge less, and his ear muffs soon became the energy to fuel his next song: Paladin's aegis.

By the time the opponent released his attack, the shell would ward away the wind protecting the fae's body from harm. He giggled wildly, adjusting the power from the aegis after the attack once again to his vocals in a continuos rotation he shouted, the energy would push forward, and the man at almost point blank range was in danger of being struck with a force equivalent to a semi truck traveling at seventy miles per hour.
====
Defense: Paladin's Aegis
Attack: devistating shout.

[Primal]

The power of Maeryn's vocals blasted out, struck the snowy-haired primal mid-swing, and floored him. His head bounced off the soft, slightly damp soil, and he skidded ten meters from his previous position.

The finely-woven mythrill tunic he wore over his upper body absorbed and blunted the impact trauma to his thorax. Mid-skid, he threw his hands over his head, pulled his feet to his chest, kicked out and bridged, arcing over. The rifle wrenched from his grasp, the primal dug his fingertips into the bare soil, eyes benighted as he raised his brow, stood erect, masking his intentions and preparing for the next onslaught--

'Flow,' black as pitch, pooled in and around his being, calling down the shadows of the moon.

[Ran Iji]

Closed due to a request for a judge. The next post shall be a ruling.

[Ran Iji]

I apologize for the delay, due to switching back and forth between my phone, the judgement was marked as read. Roen has had this prepared since a few hours after I requested it.

Maeryn Gray, authored by Inversed, has the right of way. After slogging through this fight of ill-attempts at conciseness and butchery of the Mild Powers setting established for the Fresh to Death tournament setting (I'm looking at you, Inversed -- the power of a semi-truck going 70 MPH with no charge or any logically conceivable deduction from a point or stamina system? I ought to have you quartered) and raking my brain for a fair, well-balanced judgement, I've come to the conclusion that Maeryn Gray, authored by the aforementioned, can strum his lute (harp) and Thu'um faster than Wolf, authored by Primal, can effectively close the distance and strike out with the stock of his gun. Unfortunately, Primal, a preemptive swing does not count for much when your opponent is already in the fray of his actions.

Ruling:: Primal needs to edit his post to describe the effects of being struck by a semi going 70 MPH at point blank range.

And a word of advice, neighbors: Try to be more descriptive. I understand the need to be concise and forward to the point, but I cannot make bricks without clay. I digress. Enjoy the rest of the match.

Primal has 48 hours from this ruling to post his turn.

[Tidus]

Maeryn's body quivered slightly, and a stream of thick golden sap rolled from the corner of his left eye, and a small grunt escaped his lips as the instant expulsion of bardic magic took its tole on his body. The fae slumped slightly, his hair covering his eyes, his hands releasing the golden harp back to the position on his thigh. It was apparent to him now, that song may not work in this fight.

He would use a technique that he had hoped never to use, forbidden by his people to show the likes of outsiders.

Maeryn took a deep breath, his body relaxing. Natural energies from the earth began to well inside of him, and naturally he channeled the energy outwards to his hands. After seconds his hands began to glow a bright golden color.

Your next move will be your last, humanoid.
====

Perpetration: Faded Celestial Ligntning{1}

[Primal]

The primal skidded to a stop. His fingers remained poised against the soil. He lifted his head and scowled, anticipating an attack that would press the button, perhaps a physical assault, but was disappointed to see his opponent standing stationary ten meters away from him, hands shining with a golden radiance.

How anticlimactic.

Air shimmered around him: a shell. He continued to pattern his mind to the coils of black magicka writhing in the moonlit darkness, reached out with his mind's hand and imbued the threads with his signature so that he might weave a coherent effect. The air shimmering around his form radiated waves of heat.

[Tidus]

Does he find me stupid? Enough of this foolishness, it's time to end him where he stands. I have been away from the one for to long

Maeryn giggled again, edge less and wild, the things that made people stay in doors at night seemed to be weaved into his sound. As those golden glowing hands returned his harp to his hands. As long as Maeryn touched the earth, he could draw energy from its wells, and fill his buckets full.

Lithe fingers began to dance about his harp strings, the golden aura about his form growing outwards as if it were grabbing and pulling the trees, plants, and earth to his form. Seconds slowly seemed to pass, and imbued in that golden aura of energy and song, came bolts of crimson red lightning, which seemed to lash out at the debris in his seemingly inward pulling well of power.

"Faded..."

========
Prep: Faded Celestial Lightning {2}

[Primal]

As Maeryn giggled and drank of the raw earth, Wolf gritted his teeth and sneered at the monster. His jaw muscles flexed, his maxilla became more pronounced and wolf-like. Heat shimmered off his pale, leathery skin, the sum of many scars, rolling backward and forward across the plain in visible waves.

Shell: 2