Scalesert vs Richard Homily (FMWT)

[Skallagrim]

Scalesert vs. Richard Homily
First poster: Scalesert
Start date/time: 12/12/11- 10AM EST
End date/time: 01/03/12- 4PM EST.

Battle Ground: The Landmannalaugar Depression (Interior): The Landmannalaugar environment is literally a wonderland. The rich colours of the mountains surrounding the area and its outstanding contrasts appearing in the raven-black and glittering riolit-lavafields, are truly amazing. The neighbouring Hrafntinnuhraun lava-field, which is pitch-black, was created in a volcanic eruption 1,872 years ago but the sour lava-fields closer by Landmannalaugar, the Namshraun and Laugahraun lava-fields, were created in an eruption just over 500 years ago.

From the edge of Laugahraun lava-field spring up several hot-water streams and hot springs as well as sources of cold-water that mix together in a little warm river. The natural warm-water pool there is quite unique and an ideal bathing place all year around – with temperature of around 36-40 degrees centigrade even in the mids of a snowy winter.

The battlefield depression is 500 meters in diameter and a maximum depth of 20 meters. The contestants are roughly 250 meters apart. Visibility is excellent.

[Sikako J]

The massive creature known as Scalesert was still wrapped in his thick coat and cloak, the fur bristling and swaying from the breeze that was blowing down from the dip of the depression he now found himself in. The ground appeared as if it were made from an old lava flow, the rock below was brittle as he took a single step sideways. It supported weight, yet a quick twist could dislocate portions of the top layer while also flicking up flakes of blackened dust. His tail still weaving back and forth as his red forked tongue tasted the air about him.

As an Iksar, the blood of Cazic Thule flowed in him if even in the smallest amount. He was able to resist fear based attacks and extremes of temperature. However he was only a half blood not marked with the traditional crest of horns on his head. Cold was especially harmful to half-bloods. He had to work hard to overcome is lesser resistance.

His ruby red scales that coated his reptilian body were accented by odd areas of paper white bone plates that grew from his first and secondary skin layer. Scalesert liked to think that his god had caused the mutation that gave him armor like plates on portions of his body as an act of mercy for his lack of royal blood. However it had been nothing but a thorn in his, causing him to be ostracized. Despite its benefits the other Iksar used this to target him for the most grueling tests and lack luster magical training.

Tearing himself from his mental anguish he planted his spear into the rock with a display of strength. The well crafted weapon was more like an instrument in his hands. It took years in the wilds of the swamp to master its uses. Made of an ancient metal compound from long forgotten and enslaved elven ancestors, it was one of a kind in his world. It conducted little heat, stronger than dwarven steel, and light enough for a gnome to wield. It proudly displayed the rise of his people from slaves, to the rulers of their continent.

It wasn’t his only weapon on his person, his bone hilted doas were hidden beneath his cloak as well. One then he had learned from the elves, keep your tools concealed. A bag of various shaped throwing discs and stars were safely tucked onto his waist. His armor, enchanted bone plate strapped on from shoulder to hand on his left side. Brown, light leather trousers run from belt to mid-calf and are met by bone plate boots.

He appreciated the colors and a beauty of battlefield that had been chosen for them. The stone reminded him of Kazadeem, the carved halls of Dwarven cities. The colors gave way to memories of the tree top city of Keliethen of the Wood Elves. But these both had one thing in common; these were cities that were taken by his troops. He had led the skeletal archers to the forests of Keliethen, he had charged with the zombie horrors into the ranks of the Dwarven resistance. These would simply be a new area to conquer, to paint with the blood of his enemy.

Mentioning his enemy, it was standing in the distance watching in his movements. He couldn’t clearly make out details, yet the enemy facing him looked familiar. The odd stance reminded him of the mechanical monstrosities the dwarves had created to help ease the flow of the undead horde at his command. Thinking deeply it was only due to his bone plate scales that he hadn’t been ran through by one with a lance in one of the final battles. It was only the thickness of that plate and his Tarskin ability he had acquired inside the Tower of Kurns that allowed him to soften what was sure to have been death blow.

Looking to his opponent he took a few guarded steps forward, he decided to keep his form covered as much as possible. His fierce yellow eyes locked onto his target, tail barely moving, he kept his spear out in front of him acting much like his native tribesmen people of old. Best to seem like a savage for now, let his opponent think he was a barbarian then to let him see any strategy coming to pass.

[whiteglint77]

So this was the next battlefield. Smoky wisps of volcanic ash floated through the arid air, casting a deathly pall over the normally colorful landscape. Its ordinary beauty seemed to be muted, tense, as if the virgin soil was preparing itself for its first taste of blood. The quiet obsidian had lost its luster as the sun dipped away into the never-ending sky, enshrouding the area in an ominous shade. Billowing black smoke poured out of the volcano in floods, heralding the arrival of one of the contestants. The depression was utterly hushed as Homily floated down from the dusty sky and landed on the dusty ground.

The cyborg quietly surveyed the area and acknowledged the proud figure in the distance; target acquired. It seemed to be in no hurry, and it carried itself with the dignity of a warrior. Though human powers of intuition were dwarfed next to the LOTUS' vast powers of reasoning, he sensed that the next opponent would be more tactical than the last. Its solidness in this world of dreams suggested that precision would be key, that trickery would mean little against it. He would have to plan and execute his strategy perfectly, surely dismantling his foe piece by piece until he could land a decisive blow. If the best possible scenario came to fruition, the ideal sequence of events would not be the only things that would soon be executed.

At any rate, careful planning did not necessary make him any more dangerous. If he was to engage what was clearly an enemy general, he had no reservations. It had been quite a while since he had been able to match wits with another commander, and taking the king would be all the more satisfying if he had the time to plan his moves. With this, he focused his cameras upon the monolith on the horizon and was unsurprised to find that it was not entirely human. Though its silhouette cast the figure of a man, further inspection revealed the creature to be some kind of lizard creature. This would not be the first beast hybrid to face him in the tournament,

Harsh protrusions of bone jutted out at odd angles from its body, forming a natural armor that would serve as ready protection from blunt trauma. Small nicks and cuts imperceptible to the unaided eye were etched into the armor, as well as on a gleaming spear that was made of some unfamiliar metal told stories of armed conflict. More telling however was a knowing gleam in its eyes, a gleam he had been all too familiar with in his home world. That gleam was common to all races, all who called themselves warriors. It would be cold blooded, fearless. Possessed of an inherent cunning unknown to mammalians.

This would be a challenge indeed.

As surely as empirical data, he knew that animal cunning would smash itself blindly against his cold logic. He had mastered himself, taken pains to gain power over the dark gifts that the Facility had bestowed upon him. His mastery of shields was unparalleled, directed as action and reaction by parallel thought. Nothing could stand against his onslaught, yet he could weather any that came to him. He had guarded himself against the destruction of his world, there would be no reason he could not withstand this.

[Sikako J]

Unsure of descent that the opponent had made to his previous moves, he locked the possibility that it could possibly become airborne into his memory.

Although the movement towards his target was slow, he had closed in around halfway of the previous distance. The time spent crawling over the brittle stone seemed to have lasted for hours, yet the general knew it had been less than a few moments as his long limbs allowed him to close the distance.

A flicker of eyes or lenses slightly unsettled the shadow knight. It never felt quite the same when fighting an opponent that wasn’t fully flesh. The dwarves automations, even Doctor Hogbac’s metal golems were different than drawing true blood from flesh. Still this was the path he had chosen, he was tired of remaining in place at the Tower of Kurns while his master worked on forging a great alliance.

He was a creature of action.

Planning was always called for. Strategy, tactics, exploring the weaknesses and strengths of your opponents before striking hard, in an odd way you were to respect your foe. It was not a weakness to value strength, it was a weakness to let fear rule over you. A hundred meters apart Scalesert threw back his cloak, letting the coat drop to the floor.

Armor that hinted at the slightest of green amid the dents and scratches marked the armor as enchanted. Allure, his master’s enchantress had worked hard to hide the scratched runes from giving off power, but it couldn’t be hidden fully. It was more aimed to cause his opponents to strike at his natural armor anyway. His head now fully revealed, he opened his maw to expose the sharp teeth with in. His red and white scales flickering with the light source above shining downward, taking a simple item from his belt he tossed it to the ground.

It pattered on the stone before coming to a still. The round dial was shaped in a shell like manner, taking up his spear with his monsterous claws he rasied it upward then struck down with tremendous force a bright flash coming from dail . The rock underneath didn’t split; it didn’t even seem to move as he thundered out a terrible roar. A burst of dark energy surged from within Scalesert, augmenting his speed.

He could draw upon the minor teaching of his master’s teaching to focus healing magic into a distorted manner. As a Paladin would heal other, the Shadow Knight’s teaching corrupted the energy into a self-serving power.

Quickly retrieving the dial device, he stored it back into his waist bag as he moved with increased speed to his left and forward. He didn’t dare move at his full speed, however the difference between the crawl he had been at may make it appear that this was his maximum ability. His true purpose hidden, he moved upward slight from the center of the crater’s dip.

For now he was watch as the opponent reacted. A display of speed and strength had been shown, what would he receive in return.

[whiteglint77]

The air grew denser as the reptilian creature made a slow approach towards its opponent. The wind had ceased to blow, and the swirling columns of ash halted in their dance. The clicking of bony claws sounded hollow on the packed earth, much louder than the quiet metallic rustle of armor. It's eyes had lost the flash of curiosity from before- it had sighted its target, and now it was drawing close for the kill. Every small twitch of its tail, every glimmer of cold scale, every flick of its snake-like tongue reminded one of an ancient predator. This was a killer instinct honed by military training, a beast man wielding the weapon of a human soldier. It came to a stop.

Had Homily still been human, the seconds it spent motionless would have lengthened into hours. Hours into days. Days into eternities. So it was before all wars; this was the calm before the storm. Two figures cast huge pitch black shadows that stretched almost endlessly across the parched ground, turning the earth obsidian where they fell. By the time light had fully left the area, the dirt would be tinted red and only one shadow would remain.

But Homily was no longer human. No more than the creature that stood before him.

Yes, he felt the weight of every tense second, his muscles tightening in insufferable waiting. But despite his instinct, he was now released from such base biological responses. Though his body was racked by fear of death, the possibility of oblivion, he was lucidly conscious of his detachment from the shell. He felt nothing. He needed to feel nothing. He would feel nothing, even if that spear were to pierce every wall he could build. He had become more than man, fused himself with an artificial consciousness, given himself a prosthetic body that could be consumed by whatever assaults lay ahead. He would deflect all of it, he would crush his enemy utterly. With the force of sheer willpower, he would use his mind as a scalpel to carve this land into tiny pieces, sundering the sky with pure force and guarding himself from the falling shards.

L.OTUS I.ntegration M.ode// (TYPE: B.ATTLE) Command: Start.. Status: Running...

With this, he began to rise. He levitated a few inches above the battlefield even as his opponent drew some sort of apparatus from the recesses of its cloak. A few more feet as the lizard man ceremoniously drove the point of his spear into the heart of the strange machine. Ten feet as an unknown energy engulfed it in a void of writhing shadows. Twenty as it returned the dial to its place in a hidden pocket. The creature put on a burst of speed, rapidly closing the distance from his right, much faster than a bipedal should be able to run. He would have to react quickly. He envisioned a series of walls in the shape of a cube, and willed the creation into existence. He wanted to create it right under the assailant's feet, forcing it upwards at the last moment to catapult the lizard into the air. Fifty feet, twenty, ten... Now.

[Sikako J]

His opponent moved finally. Not an ounce of energy seemed to be wasted as it began to…levitate from its minor movements. Even as Scalesert moved forward towards his target’s right flank, he could feel something had altered in his foe. The subtle movements of its never blinking optics, now that he was drawing closer he felt no emotion form this foe. It either had grand control over itself or had now had no need of such petty feelings.

There had been one thing he had learned in his campaigns for his master. An enemy with no fear, love, or anger was the most dangerous kind there is.

The dark energy deep inside his enter radiated in his legs and arms as his speed burst into five times what he should be able to achieve. His spear was raised in at chest level as he estimated a trajectory to launch a first attack when his feet hit something…unnatural. His bone plate boots no longer crack upon the brittle rock; something else had taken its place.

Chancing a glance downward he saw something most unexpected. A cube of barrier walls were forming under his feet. He was moving too fast to fully stop there was no to avoid the possible trap that had been laid out for him. His predatory mind began to run cycles through the possible escape routes as his hand instinctively places the spear into the rune cut holder that locked it to place. His left and right hand now free, he roared out in protest as he felt himself being lifted upward.

With his heightened speed he pulled free one of his javelins. Made in the typical Greek design however instead of an iron or bronze tip this one was made of glass treated by the enchantress Allure. The now tinted green glass tip contained a rune carved into the side of the arrow head shaped. It was a longshot, but he had to assess his opponent’s defensive capabilities. Oddly enough the javelin seemed to be off to the left of the intended target.

Hurling his missile at the speed of a trained warrior he waited for three seconds to pass by. His other hand reached for the shell device he had used before. Its current use however would not be known as the time limit appeared to pass as the rune on the tip of spear flared to life. The spear now multiplied, becoming a tri attack as the single spear became three. Still sailing through the air, he appeared to have no fear in his eyes only the thrill of battle.

[whiteglint77]

With a brutal hurl, a glass spear sailed like an emerald streak through the darkened air, a streak of color among the clouds of ash. The viciousness of the movement was surprising, that the beast possessed such coordination was unexpected. It had obviously had been thrust into this kind of situation before, and its calm fury was admirable at least. He smirked as one spear separated into three, cutting through space as lightly as throwing darts. They screamed towards his face for almost a second before embedding themselves in a quickly prepared wall. What a dirty trick. Though this enemy had the bearing of an experienced warrior, it didn't hesitate to use sneak attacks, wouldn't hesitate to make use of every available tactic. That was one of the marks of a true tactician, to be willing and able to use all available attacks to achieve the objective at hand. It obviously had skill. It was intelligent. Strong, cunning, and ready to kill without missing a beat. These are all aspects of the men that reduced his home world to rubble, but like them, this reptilian lacked a fundamental element. A crucial piece of the puzzle that stopped it from being a perfect killing machine.

It had no sense of patience.

With a flick of intent, the cube that he had used as a trap expanded in the blink of an eye. Where it was only the size of a large boulder before, it had now grown to the size of a large house, and still growing. Homily would focus his energies on expanding this makeshift battleground, purposely raising a platform for later stratagems. For the moment, he would allow his opponent a tiny foothold within his castle in the sky- its maintenance was an imperative. This would soon become either an aerial duel or a tense battle on the rooftops of his own making; the trap from before was only a preparation for this new development. Gathering electricity to power even stronger shields, he climbed higher into the air as the edifice grew, straining his levitation module to attain the heights of its power. Simultaneously, he whirled the shield around with the ineffective javelins still lodged in the face, spinning it faster and faster until they became a wheel of green. Another instant, and he dissipated the wall with a crackle, sending the weapons cart-wheeling back towards their former master.

[Sikako J]

A growl of displeasure emanated from deep form within his chest of the scaled warrior. His trick of spear had given about the same result as what he thought would happen. It was deceit tactic he had learned from rune crafting with Allure, it was not a well-known etching but it proved effective for surprise. Sadly it was highly limited in what it could replicate to forming two identical copies. Not very efficient for making vast fortunes, however for weaponry it was quite useful.

The automaton had placed up a secondary barrier wall to halt the tri spear attack. It appeared that the spears tips were held in place as the shafts of each reverberated as if they had hit dense hide. The mighty Iksar eyed his opponent; taking in a few details he attuned his thoughts and tactics accordingly.

This barrier master he was fighting was not the trickery of magic and dwarven machinery. No this was something much more. It had intellect, but showed no haste to make a counter attack. Lenses that acted as optics adjusted, ever watching and unblinking. He was fighting against an opponent that could wait to see every attack a warrior could throw. It was like fighting an Enchanter, an extremely versed defensive expert was like a game of chess. Taking advantage of one false move to topple a game, and this was a very dangerous game.

The metallic figure loomed higher, levitating with weightlessness; he rose higher as the ash around him fell. Something unnatural pulsed from him, something Scalesert didn’t like. As an Iksar he would always be racially biased to any other, but this was different. It was one reason that he fought so hard against the undead and automations it just wasn’t natural. His mind now winding down from his opponent, he focused on his descent.

His flight path he had planned to take would have let him fall to the brittle rock below, perhaps straining his legs to a painful manner but letting him escaped the aerial combat scene. However the boulder size barrier below him had grown to become a platform like pedestal that kept him from the ground below.

How could he have been so foolish! Letting his opponent dictate the battleground they fought in by creating it, brilliant. Brilliant and possibly deadly for the one that was playing in a foe’s laid battle field.

He made his landing as the barrier felt like solid stone beneath his feet. Tucking his knees into his massive chest he rolled to absorb the energy that had been built from falling. Rolling to a standing position he was immediately attacked by his own weapons. It was insulting to be attacked by your own weapon as a warrior; however for Scalesert it had been quite fortunate.

His first test as a general for the Necromancer Seit had been to spend a week inside the bowls of the dreaded Tower of Kurns. During his wanderings for food, he had inadvertently cursed himself by a long forgotten amulet. The Curse of the Tarskin as it was known dulled the feelings of pleasure he received as well as making sustaining his body with food and drink much harder. The side effect of his curse however allowed him to dull the damage of an attack after is affected by if before.

After learning this, the Iksar had been sure to… test his weapons out on himself, giving him a near immunity to them. The three spears now in a whirlwind of aggravation closed in as he stood his ground. Another tactic already form he roared out in objection as his own weapons struck him.

The first was too fair left and high sailing over his shoulder and striking the barrier he rested on with such an incredible force, it was broken into two pieces. The second struck butt end against the bone plating of his left shoulder. An audible crack let out as the butt, split nearly a third of the way up the shaft. The third however ended up point first into this right shoulder, sinking through his armor and striking into his scales.

It logged itself into his flesh with only the faintest trickle of blood escaping the wound, had it been anyone else they would have been ran fully through. Extinguishing his speed he had built from the dark energy, he pulled his spear from his shoulder letting the blood pool into a small puddle in his hand. He could have dodged the attack, but this was an alternate way of attacking. Beginning his dark chant his voice sounded like rocks being ground together, he used his blood for a catalyst for his next attack. His eyes focused on his mechanized foe.

[whiteglint77]

The projectiles flashed through the air like spiraling fangs before contact. Two of the three slammed into their intended target, but only one of those appeared to be successful. It embedded itself in the lizard's shoulder, dealing a superficial wound. There was something strange about the impact however, of course, the warrior was incensed that its own weapons had been turned against him, that was to be expected. But sensors never indicated a fluctuation in heart rate, breathing, nothing. Imminent danger usually caused a biological response in sentient creatures, adjusted for situation and the experience of the subject at hand. There were varying degrees of complexity, but the reaction to bodily harm should have registered with his enemy at some unconscious level. That the creature displayed no response but anger was a telling sign that something was abnormal. On one hand, the opponent might not have been entirely biological, in the same manner as Homily himself. This was very unlikely however, as the LOTUS detected no electromagnetic energy signature outside of the normal biological range. The other possibility was much more viable- the spears had never posed any threat to their original wielder at all.

That was the simplest explanation, there was no reaction because there was no threat. A reaction was necessary to assess the correct sequence of actions. Therefore, in order to gain a reaction, the simplest action would be to create a threat.

For whatever reason, the reptile took disproportionately little damage from an assault that should by all means have severed through the shoulder. It would be imprudent to stage an offensive if there was an unknown barrier that could halt the attack, no, his victory would be utterly crushing. Until it was all but assured, he could utilize his walls to buy more time. Drawing upon the energy he had put in reserve, he radiated superalpha brainwaves in order to create a medium from which he could forge a cube. He weaved electrical energy with his own will to create a cube around the reptilian warrior, encasing it within the confines of an extremely durable prison. It would be much more difficult to break than his normal constructs, but a darkening energy around the lizard's fist made it a necessity. For the moment, Homily would be content gathering more energy and expanding the platform on which the duel took place. It was already quite large, and it would soon be ready for the next stage of the battle.

[Sikako J]

Scalesert’s second set of eyelids blinked as he strained to pull power from his blood. His reptilian head tilted slightly in his concentration. One of the very first magical attacks a Shadow Knight was taught was known as Harmtouch. While each warrior was able to draw blood from themselves to use it as a weapon, it was only through intense training that one was able to master the dark corruption magic to pull the power from your on life force and twist it into a weapon. Masters could unlock multiple ways to corrupt the life in their blood, however those who dove too deeply into its study faced constant mutilation and in most cases death.

The barrier below him locked into place as four walls around him materialized cutting off any quick route for escaping his current location. The top of his now prison cube sealed him inside, locking more than just escape from him, it robbed him of the very air he was breathing. It had been confirmed, this biomechanical combination was no mere novice or apprentice of barriers.

No this one was a master.

As any general, the Iksar had deviled into research of both enemy capabilities as well as your own forces. One of the most interesting finds was Allure. The master’s enchantress had shared all of her knowledge by his request, slowly he had learned of Enchater’s greatest defenses. Barriers or wards were concentrated energy that kept harmful attack from reaching friendly targets.

He knew from his involuntary teacher two great lessons about the mysteries of Alteration magic. Firstly that his upbringing of corruption magic would never allow him to learn its ways, the second was that only the most skilled or powerful could conjure a barrier to trap a living being.

While it was the best way to ensnare an opponent, it was incredibly difficult to form the energies required around a living target. Allure had gone into an in-depth explanation of the body’s electromagnetic pulses; however he hadn’t the understanding for it all.

Using his left hand he formed a fist, using his tail as counter weight he struck out at the barrier. The resulting crack made even the trained warrior wince. Had he not have had natural armor he would have cracked his bones. His right hand still pulsing with corruption magic he pondered if what he had been taught would grant him his freedom from his airtight prison.

Increasing his focus the pulses of his misty claw began to intensify. Where only two to three pulses had been happening per minute, he pushed it to happen nearly thirty times a minute. He couldn’t hide the increase of power; his lack of breathable air left him no room for finesse. Forcing himself to tear the energy from his wound and the blood gathered in his palm. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but the gain of power compensated for the feeling of pain.

Forcing his hand to the wall, there was a moment of thrill. Not knowing if he had built up enough power to escape, had be found his death?

His dark mist covered hand however responded to his question before he could ponder further. The energy he had built up was a sapping attack. This form of Harm Touch was meant to steal mental and physical energy from a target. While primarily used against magic wielders, nearly all matter could be drained of its energy. Using this technique he ‘sapped’ a portion of the energy of the wall to his right, moving with renewed vigor he took in the remaining air in his cell to launching his body forward in a stronger version of his first escape attempt.

The energy burst and crackled around him just as if he had broken through a wall made of solid electricity. Rolling once more to kneeing position he estimated it was time to engage. Pulling the shell contraption form before in his left hand, and pulled his spear from his rune of holding with is right hand. Dark energy swirled about him once more, flowing into his blood and muscles to strengthen him.

His tendons visible, he tucked down letting his legs compact. Using his tail to steady his compacting body there was nearly an audible boom as he leapt upward using his stored unnatural strength. He had never been used to leaping like this, but his opponent was using his high ground as an advantage this had to be neutralized.

His spear tucked close he saw he was closing in, now it was time for the unexpected. Scalesert used the dial contraption, with a simple press of a hidden stone all of the energy he had used striking the dial before was released. The second set of runes flared to life in a flashing light; however this set was a Release rune. This allowed him an unexpected burst of speed as he now sought to spear his enemy through the chest.