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The Bone King

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About The Bone King

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    Journeyman

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  1. A thirty year old fairy with spiky blonde hair who weighed seventy three kilograms and stood five feet eleven inches tall awoke lying prone in the center space of an expansive, towering coliseum with a dirt floor. Using his right hand to hold onto the handle of a six feet long, three feet wide metal sword with a death grip, he got up and spat. Hearing an eerie announcement, he looked around the arena, noticing some other persons inside of it, all total strangers to him. Remaining calm, dark energy seething through his veins, he clutched his sword tightly, readying himself for combat.
  2. The mischievous sprite of average height and build noticed the hooks and trinkets M'yr wore. "Nice to meet you," he said. "I go by Puck."
  3. A young, sharp eared hume, who looked very uncool in his black tights, ordinary work shoes, white shirt, royal purple belts and black bomber jacket, wearing a gold chain with a weighted anchor accessory on it which he bought on the marketplace for a cheap price walked out of the sea with sopping wet hand wraps and a massive onyx stone bolster sword strapped to his back by a wooden sling. Noticing people engaging each other with bowie knives along the coast, he approached them, procuring with his right hand a tarnished tooth taken from a giant sea beast, flashing not only his teeth, but also his newfound dagger at the group of knife fighters. He tossed his head back and, lastly, he laughed. "May I join you?"
  4. A young journeyman with chin length golden tresses who weighed seventy three kilograms, standing one hundred seventy five point twenty six centimeters tall, could be seen walking toward the city of Aelindra. He wore a white face plate made of porcelain resembling the face of a fox with red splotches of blood on its cheeks and mouth. Leather leggings adorned his lower half. Harnessed to his back by a cloth strap, an iron Claymore as long and thick as he with a wooden cross guard and a steel pole for a handle. The ninja in training went forth to the front gates, ready to raise Cain.
  5. Not so. If it worked on Gaia for twelve years, it can work again on this site. @Infernal Are you thinking about participating?
  6. I'm not looking for judges this year. I would see you put together a team and participate. I see this tournament having no rules or scores and a three day time limit between posts unless an extension is given.
  7. Taking hits to his chiseled abdomen but not being aware that the griffin was aiming at certain pressure points, Clash retaliated by throwing his left hand first then the right in a flurry of punches aimed at the beast of majesty's eyes.
  8. Clash fell on his back, scurrying away from Tharraleos using his hands, legs and feet awaiting his next attack.
  9. Who did show up was Clash, a yellow haired, bronze skinned man weighing one hundred forty-five pounds standing five feet nine inches tall riding on the back of a big black hog. He pulled into a parking lot wherein he beheld another man standing alone. Killing the engine, Clash put down his kickstand and dismounted, his bare upper body covered in scars slick with sweat. Rolling his eyes, he used his right hand, upon which he wore an iron claw, to point an onyx bolster sword at the other guy. "You," he began speaking through a metal faceplate, the fingers of his left hand tightening around a Nosferatu tooth dagger, "engage me in battle."
  10. "All right." With his hands swaying at his sides, Clash started to walk toward the griffin. Dark energy continuously cycled through his body. He stopped a snail's pace away and slid his right foot ever so subtly forward, leading with his right big toe. Then, balancing on his left foot for stability, he lifted his right leg, thrusting the bottom of his right foot at the winged creature's abdomen.
  11. "To be honest, I came out here to look for random encounters so that I could improve my fighting skills. How about you?"
  12. I'd like to write with you, if you will accept me. Clash has all kinds of weapons.
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