Way of the Warrior II - Blood Shed - Lobby

[Rilla]

The Lobby


(The Blood Shed Begins Anew - By Adam/Guru)

Rules of the Lobby

Fashionably Late:

Before your first fight, you must post here before your first fight. If not, then you are technically not even arrived to the tournament, and thus at risk of disqualification via no-show.
You can only post in here after your character has been accepted, a list of which can be found in the OOC.

The Art of Sabotage:

You can only sabotage a competitor that has arrived at the Lobby.
Direct damage on a opponent in the lobby area and all associated places, outside of the actual rounds is disallowed.
No killing outside of the rounds.
Four day response limit. This means real-time. If you do not reply appropriately and in time, then the sabotage will take full effect.
No metagaming. Blatant offenses triggers the sabotage automatically, no matter what.

Other Assorted knick-knacks:

I will be participating in the IC, but only as another participant, meaning you handle all NPC interactions that you need.
If you manage to take fell an opponent, you may take one of their weapons/items with you to the next round. This applies to all rounds, aside from the final, meaning it is possible to enter the final round with two additional armaments. These may or may not be bobby-trapped.
Watch what you write, you are not allowed to edit posts or delete them, if a person has posted after you.

Memoirs of a Victor II

I’ve come to think of this place as Death’s playground. Between the void an reality it exists, to dramatize the lives of demons, angels, and men without bias. Persuaded away or stripped from their homes, combatants come from every corner of the universe. They are here for one purpose, to risk the entirety of their lives against the sum of another's, in the only possible way, combat.

Though the name suggests war, the tournament has always been fought through one-on-one duels. I suppose the title ‘Way of the Warrior’ refers to the code fighters live by. Some by honour, others by cunning. What I’ve come to believe is that the only true recurring aspect in all these codes is the will to fight and die.

Upon entering this blood bound realm, I was greeted with a much familiar sight. Portals. Waypoints binding the many worldly and unworldly spaces together. Always did these contraptions amaze me. A circular container centered around an amorphous magical aura large enough for a 7ft werewolf to walk in and out without crouching. Each of these portals has been built to face the front desk, where a lovely young human once worked the counter. Behind her were hallways leading to a variety of resource stations. Where we would start, our location would be known south. It is from this location that we enter the tournament, and every match onward using these magical portals.

Personal quarters fit to sixteen combatants were located at the west end of the large dome-like building. This is where I was for a majority of my stay, deep in meditation for the upcoming struggles. Each room came equipped with televisions, bathrooms, and beds, and everything else you would find in a high quality hotel. Peace if you could find it, away from the constant bickering and sabotage attempts of the more cunning competitors. If you were hungry, there was a cafeteria to the north, serving free food and beverages from across the galaxies. From lasagne to sautéed space worms. By the twists of fate, had you been removed of a limb or lacking the favour of some magical entity, restoration chambers had been built to the east, where medics and altars had been built to heal wounds both physical and metaphysical.

Behind the chaos lives a mastermind calling himself Liaison. A neutral yet sadistic deity who empowers the tournament through his own will. In truth I had never met him face to face until after the semi-finals, where he abused his spatial magic to take control of our bodies. Displaying us to a crowd made up of revived past fighters, and anyone else intent on seeing blood and sweat. Like a large child playing with two toys, pitting them against each other. My opponent, Liaison’s other ‘plaything’ was a pale beast-man, inherently stronger and faster than I could ever imagine to be. And though he lived by an archetype warrior code, he could not best the primal forces of nature under my discipline.

Victory came as a surprise to me. I had not slaughtered any of my foes like the champions before. And yet I still outlasted them all. Somehow, my battle for self understanding and equilibrium titled me ’The Warrior.’ I now stand as proof that this title is not just a symbol of glorified death. As I stood last, Liaison approached me once more, and told me this:

“Your reward is your life. A life you can live to fight another day. There is another tournament calling for a warrior like yourself, with greater rewards, and stronger enemies.”

To shock the face of a deity. I declined his offer of continued bloodshed, and instead passed on the privilege to my opposing finalist. In truth, the man I fought, known only as Lyzan Fury, was more a warrior than I, and in his eyes I could sense the will of battle.

Now a new cast of might be warriors now cling to their hopes and weapons, for the chance to claim the title I once had. Having found who I am, no longer will I stay in this place. My respects have been paid to the fighters, and the master of this dimension. Now it is time for this old man to step away from the battlefield.

As he spoke, in a way that we could all understand, he pointed out several features. We each were afforded our own rooms, for rest and relaxation, to the west, as well as a place for free food, to the north, and something called Restoration Chambers, to the east, wherein after battles we could go and restore the majority of our damage back to a respectable state. As you can probably imagine, the toughest of the men didn’t like this notion and threatened to harm Liaison for insinuating such a thing; he promptly told them he could not be touched and demonstrated why -- The Man was nearly a God, he truly could not be touched. There were also Teleportation Devices, to the south, in place to take us to our battlefields; they'd drop us off in different places, just not far from our opponent.

[MelonHead]

Out of the frying pan...

The billow of smoke and the soft explosion of a fiery inferno accompanied his entrance, as he was thrown bodily through the portal. Soot marked and scorched, his armour hissed where it had been singed, his shield skittered across the floor an arms-length away from him. His sword still lay in its scabbard, and poked into his side as he hit the ground. He looked up, adrenaline pumping through his hulking form and granting him the strength to push past his discomfort, he reached for the shield and drew his sword simultaneously with practised skill. Only then did he realize where he was, or where he wasn’t. No longer did trees stretch out and overshadow the cave mouth, from which the dragon’s foul breath had emerged. Instead, the warrior found himself in a cool lobby, centuries ahead of his homeland.

He drew himself up to his full height, stretching out his limbs and sheathing his sword. He brushed a patch of smoking fur from his left shoulder. Although it had scorched through the material, he had felt no pain. The living stone which made up his entire left arm and shoulder allowed no such feeling through. He allowed his left arm to drop, and studied his new surroundings. His helm was well made, so that he hardly had to turn his head to view the lobby. However, he didn’t spend long observing. The woman in front of him, watching him with a frankly disappointing lack of interest, caught his attention.

“Lady. What magic is this? What have you done with the forest?” He asked her, in his strong halting accent. Although it was unlikely she would understand him, he had no reason to believe she was from a different world. It his mind, this was all some witches trick, although in his travels he had yet to encounter such an avid illusion.

The woman took the handsome north-man in with a wide-eyed expression; she pushed her-self close against the desk, and fixed him with a look of pure desire.

_________________________________________

“Now, why does it have to be magic? Is there something unbelievable about me?” She countered, smoothly avoiding the question and posing one of her own.

“Is this some kind of trick?” He asked.

“Why does it have be a trick, don’t you think a woman like me could take an interest in a big man like yourself.” She purred. He looked at her sceptically.

“Enough. What is this place?” He barked.

“Oh, fine. You’ve entered the tournament of Liason. All will be explained in due course, blah blah. You will be entered into a battle to the death with a fellow combatant but for now you get to relax in the lobby.” She sighed. “Here’s your room key, just look for the door with this number on it.” She paused and turned the key over. “Number two, mmm, I’ll have to remember that number.” She smiled mischievously, and handed him the key. He just looked at her in disbelief and walked past.

[Alphakoka]

Elros was probably among the first contestants that reached the lobby ground. The elven mage materialized inside the machine used to transfer the contestants in and out of their battlegrounds. Stepping out of the machine, he turned and observed the machine in awe. The machine had just performed something that he had still working on after all, being able to teleport matters without any part missing. "How does this object performed something like that?" he said. "Maybe the owner would allow me to disassemble it once."

He continued to try to guess how the machine work when someone interrupted him from his thought. "Um, sir, if you would proceed?" the voice spoke. "The remaining contestants might be coming at any moment now."

Elros turned to face the owner of the voice, finding a woman standing behind a desk. "Contestants,you say?" Elros remarked as he moved towards her.

"Oh, shall I explain then?" the clerk said, earning a nod from the mage. "Well, this is a tournament to determine the strongest being. The contestants will be paired to another and then sent off to a random place where they shall fight until one's unable to continue or surrender. When you're not fighting, you're to stay within this building, which has rooms for the contestants to stay, restaurants, a healing room, the teleporter you've seen and everything you can imagine and probably beyond. That's all I'm allowed to speak, do you have any question?"

The clerk turned around and picked a key after finishing her explanation.

"No, judging from what you said, you don't have the answer I need," Elros said shortly.

"Well, in that case, here's the key your room," the clerk said while handing him the key.

The mage took the key, observed it for awhile before heading off towards another direction. Maybe he would just wander for awhile and see what this place has to offer.

[yoshua171]

From a portal strode a woman with toned build and only the slightest modicur of appropriate clothing, Casana. This woman was another of the many combatants of the tournament, she knew not precisely what she seeked here, but she did know rather starkly that her toned physique and hidden prowess would allow her to give many gifts to the many idols who resided within this place.

Her body seemed to shiver slightly at exiting the mysterious portal, though she indeed was not unaware of the magical power held within and throughout the strange devices. Though she knew nought how, she contrastly understood the level of complexity which was therein. Yet, The drunken vagrant knew very wellhow pointless these musing were, her mind simply drifted often, though still strangely focused when she needed to be.

Then, to explain her dillydallying, and the strange lapse of time between her talking with the woman at the desk and her entering the large main room of the place, she took from her hip a bottle of win and downed around 1/4th of it in several large, unrefined gulps. The woman was a drunk, and until they saw her fight, that was all they'd likely learn. Regardless to such folly, Casana found herself half walking, half stumbling, across the room to observe who she could while she was trapped in this abysmal pit of a place.

She found only several individuals already arrived, one a hulk of a man who seemed rattled, burnt, and confused by his arrival, an idol easily falsified and ripped asunder from its pathetic, fake throne. A stuttered and further slurred laugh exited her great air filled lungs allowing the small burst amusement to exit promptly. She continued her walking and eventually stumbled towards a coach which she then simply allowed herself to turn on her heel, the first sign of her showing any form of grace, and then fall promptly onto the coach behind her and spread her arms out as if welcoming any male to the place with her. It was those fierce emrald, gold speckled eyes...alluring and oddly sensual that drew those of the opposing sex to her. She was determined, though in a hidden manner with her sloppy smile and occassional guzzling, to make someone's life hell if she could help it.

[Sikako J]

The trademark sound *thummaaap* echoed out as a new figure appeared in the teleportation device. He snarled out as his fur cloak waved about as if it were caught in a strong wind. The white and black fur was mammoth, the mighty Iksar’s shoulder were covered as was the silver metal breastplate they held the emblem of his master a tomb with a screaming skull. His red scales overlapped in a reptilian manner covering his entire body except for a few splotches of paper white plates that appeared to be made from bone.

Smashing the golden spear to the ground he hissed out, his whole 6’7 frame shaking in the process. “What bringssss me to this place, I have a war to run!” grunted out a voice that sounded as if it were yelled over a mass of grinding rocks.

An attendant told him of the location and tournament. Tiliting his head in minor confusion, he reasoned out that this must be a test his master had placed in front of him. As if conquering two major cities wasn’t enough, he had been forced to compete in combat against unknown warriors?

Disgraceful.

Taking his key, he demanded an attendant take him to his quarters. On his way, glared looking for any potential foes he may face.

[whiteglint77]

He stepped out of the shadows.

Or rather, he slithered from a corner in the room, detatching from the darkness as if they were one and the same. A colorful figure jingled its way into an apparrently empty lobby, its form a sort of blurry mess of black and red. The blot wandered to and fro, appearing in the middle of the room just as the observer would have sworn that it moved towards the corners, halting with a jerk and reappearing in a completely different location- arriving mere minutes ago yet seeming as if it, he, had been waiting for hours. In truth, the Servant hadn't quite gotten the hang of space yet, and was playing with the space for a while before he decided to get down to business.

He stared dumbly around the dimly lit room, observing as light oozed from unknown sources. He could stare, he could wander, he could wait; but he could not see, not hear, not understand... not yet. He concentrated. For an instant, he looked like a painting over a photograph, but faster than thought can register he had already resolved himself into a humanoid form. He took the form of a boy, only just tall enough to see over the front desk, clad in the red and black attire of a jester. Jaunty bells hung from a torn hat, his yellow scarf was cheerfully ragged, and he wore a bone white mask that looked like a human skull. At least, for a second it did. Now it looks like a childish imitation, a fun little cartoon of death, but the Fool cannot rid himself of the empty black eyeholes. He cannot make eyes. He does not understand them. But now he can see, now those black pits can take in everything. His curious gaze gnaws at the place where normal eyes would stop, looking past the pale into the harsh truth of the real...

And he sees a lady. She's pretty. He waves with a boy's enthusiasm and dashes over to the counter, bumping his head with a hollow clatter in the process. His mask tilts up towards the young woman's face, and registers something called 'concern'.

"You..? But you're just a... a..." The truth of just what this new challenger might be finally dawns on her, and the Skull Kid shakes his head politely. Slowly, she swallows and hands the boy a key without another word. He takes it, bemused, and examines the foreign object. He clutches it in a half sized palm, and holds his fist over the desk. The receptionist's curiosity gets the best of her, and a small flower floats down to the surface. She almost smiles, but as she looks up she notices that the strange boy is gone.

The flower remains. And begins to rot.

[Guru]

Trapped

The night was unsettling as Jynx pulled another body from the cold dark waters of a river on the edge of his campsite. This soldier had several arrows in his throat, only nearly missing the protective layers of his armor. The dark feathers and cut texture of the arrow revealed the assailant to be a bandit. One that obviously had extraordinary aim. With a quick tug, he ripped the arrows from the man's throat leaving a large hole quickly being filled with blood gushing from the disassembled veins in his neck, though it wasn't as thick as it should have been. Water had obviously filled in the man's throat as he floated down river. Were they fools? With several bodies that had floated down so far, the battle had to be taking place upstream. The heavy armor of the soldiers had only ensured defeat next to the tides. Why had they not retreated?

Moments later, a howl shrieked through the night. That was his sign. Jynx carefully pulled the body into the pile with the others and gathered his belongings. He would need to move upstream quick. Hesitating he turned back toward the river. On the edge of the water, a blood soaked arrow lay sinking into the wet sand. It was one of the arrows he pulled out of the solider's neck. Why had he not noticed the arrowhead before? The head was a deep black though appeared almost transparent. The curves almost appeared to be designed by a master craftsman. This was no bandit arrow. "No...", he whispered. He grabbed the arrow, rushing off, upstream.

It didn't take long to reach the site of a battle. Several bodies of bandits and Soldiers alike littered the ground. Jynx hesitantly walked forward trying to remain in the shadows. Something was wrong. Many of the bodies were still breathing. They were alive. Barely. Many of their armors carried heavy scars burned into them like acid. He pressed forward only to be suddenly knocked aside, his back hitting the dirt with a large thump, and feeling the weight like two poles pressing heavily into his chest. A large wolf stood over him. "What the fuck are you doing, Failinis?" The wolf snorted and walked over toward the soldiers stopping before reaching them.

"Look." The wolf finally said with a partial growl. Just before the soldiers was a large web, completely surrounding them. Some of the webs were layered over the soliders, marked by the burns in them. It had been some kind of trap, with intent of torturing all those within, to the point of death. "Some kind of Spider that went out of control maybe." Jynx only laughed at this.

"No. This pattern of webs is to organized. Spiders are a little less precise." His eyes carefully scanned the webs and the soldiers. "That isn't all." He stepped back pulling the arrow out of his pouch. "I found this on one of the bodies. The head on it is made of Concentrated Pi'Chu." Failinis snorted. Jynx already knew what he was thinking. "Yea, Pi'Chu normally manifest as a red color. This is spirit Pi'Chu."

"What?"

"It seems you don't know everything, brother. The Forsworn, a wild bunch descending from our race. They use the power of their ancestors to bind themselves to the spirits of them. While even Forsworn Pi'Chu is red, their spiritual guardians have Black, almost transparent Pi'Chu. However, I don't know any Forsworn that has ever been able to shoot webs. That has to be the work of a Drow." Jynx put the arrow back in his puch. "And that, my brother, is the mystery that needs to be solved here. I don't think whoever attacked here did it by mere accident. They were after someth-- Wait. Where is the boy? Please don't tell me you left that sniveling boy to fend for himself. That is our money. If he dies, we get none."

The wolf chuckled. "You mean that boy trying to play soldier that we were hired to protect? He is in a ditch crying after wetting himself. He is alive and well. Let's find the rest of the bandits and this mysterious Drow and end this" Jynx nodded scattering toward the river where he was sure the majority of the soldiers were fighting.

Battle under the Blood Moon

Jynx was partially right. The main forces of the bandits and the Soldiers met at the river, but it was more of a slaughter than a battle. The blade of Fragarach sliced into the night, tearing down the Bandit forces from the rear. Their backs split open followed by screams as the skin on their back rips open pulling the skin from their backs. It didn't take long for many of the bandits to take notice and turn their sights on the assailant at their backs. "Failinis. Get in there and get the soldiers out. There is another web on the opposing side of the river trapping them in." As commanded, the wolf tore through the bandits gnashing his teeth deep into their arms and legs as he went. The bandits didn't have time to turn toward the wolf however, because Jynx's blades were coming at them once more.

The first couple dropped quickly. A third came quickly after, clashing his blade into the Fragnarach. Jynx quickly pushed the blade up tossing a foot into the man's stomach before severing his head clean off his shoulders. Pressing his feet hard into the dirt, he felt a breathe of air tickle down his spine. A Bandit rushed forward, he quickly bent, sending the blade into the man's stomach, and quickly snapping his spine, then finally releasing from the back of the man, causing him to fall onto the ground in two. Finally, the air reached his feet. With a push forward, the air quickly propelled him, his katana flashing left and right and finally with a spin, taking down several more Bandits. He looked up and around him, now surrounded by more. There had been more than he first imagined. As weak as they were, there was a great deal of them.

"Snap." Jynx whispered sheathing his blade. The Bandits began looking around as if distracted by something. None of them could understand what was going on. "Crackle." Jynx whispered again as the bandit finally found themselves overwhelmed. They began pressing their hands to their ears in agony. Several cried out, "What is that sound!?" Jynx just chuckled. "Po-" He was unable to finish before a tremor came to him. He stopped, glaring around as the men around him passed out. Jynx put his hand on his Katana to make sure, and the tremor came again. When he finally seen it, it was nearly too late. A Drow stood on the edge of the forest, adorned in a black armor and a large helm made of what appeared to be a mix of bone and metal, in the fashion common to Drow Lords. In his hand, a long bow, aimed directly at Jynx.

*POP*

Jynx opened his eyes bewildered at the lack of pain. Surely, the arrow had struck true. He glanced back toward the Drow only to find his vision obscured. In front of him floating was a tiny man in miniature armor, a turtle shell looking shield held out in front of him. He turned his head toward Jynx with a cheesy grin. "Hey Jynx!", he shouted with delight. Jynx only gave a disgruntled moan. Behind him he could hear the screams and shouts of the remaining bandits. Jynx had not even needed to look to know what was going on. With one, came three. The Trio had arrived. He looked beyond the small man to see the Drow slip into the darkness of the forest. "Oh don't worry about Ares." The miniature knight said turning toward Jynx. "The BloodMoon is almost up. He will be descending into The DARKNESS!", he couldn't help but be dramatic about it, lifting a tiny sword in the air and waving it about.

"What are you doing here Lynx?" Jynx asked, knowing that he was only going to be sorry that he did so.

"We missed you of course!" Lynx stuck out his chest in a proud manner. "Well, that and something told us, you'd be needing the help. Ares was only a pawn to draw you out. That Drow is nothing but trouble since the day he was born." Lynx rocked his finger back and forth. "Naughty Naughty. But, Ares has been locked away for a long time. He was given only till the Blood Moon's end to have all the fun he wanted so as long as he found you."

Jynx was bewildered now. He had normally always expected the unexpected from these three, but something about it was bugging him. "How do you know all this, and why me?" He turned toward the river only to be in the face of 2 others like Lynx. One, Tynx, was a as small as her brethren though the only female of the three. She wore a white dress. The other, Rynx, looked almost demonic. His skin was as grey as Jynx's was and has one wing on his right side. He stuttered only momentarily before continuing. "And more importantly, who sent him in the first place?"

Tynx smiled, "Why, you silly!"

Jynx stared at Rynx only to get a snark, "Don't look at me like that. I didn't do anything. Your the one who almost got impaled by a arrow. Tough luck Lynx had to save you. It would have been a start to an improvement."

The Wake

It was only a matter of time before Jynx managed to collect the remaining soldiers, the snibbling boy, and the bodies of the soldiers that had died. It wasn't that he needed to collect the bodies, but they would want a proper funeral and he slightly, only slightly, felt guilty for their deaths. After all, it was the Drow, whom had come to find him, that had caused them to be nearly decimated. He tried to get more out of the trio, but the conversation after that point had turned only into silly comments and Rynx nearly beating a solider to death over the head with a fish. Eventually, the only remaining sign of the battle was a pile of bandit corpses burning in a thick cloud of smoke and flame, and blood the marked the stones, sands, and water of the river.

It was still dark when they returned to the fortress. Dawn was on the horizon as soldiers gathered outside in the courtyard littered with decorated bodies or various wild plants and a few barrels of ale. Jynx wandered through the bodies waiting for his payment. He had no other reason to stay afterward. The smell of the dead was starting to become nauseating at that point. Failinis stood at his side watching the happenings. This time entering the Fort, no soldier stared at him in surprise. Perhaps they had become rather quickly accustomed to him being there, though that was only hopeful wishing. They were all too busy mourning to care. "Let's get the money and get out of here, brother. This is becoming too depressing. It would be best to get moving before whoever is after us gets here. These men need no more dead."

Jynx sighed staring over toward the Trio who were crying hysterically. "It's sooo sad!" Lynx drank from a cup of ale nearly half as big as he was. "Reminds me of when my favorite squirrel got cooked in a pot of stew!" His crying only worsened.

Tynx looked up from sobbing. "Wasn't that Rynx that cooked him?" She blew her nose in a small tissue. "He said he-he... was... de-lic-licous! Big meanie!"

"He was.", Rynx cried. "I miss that squirrel. He was... sooooo-" Crying hysterically. "-good with a side of mustard!" They all immediately collapsed on one another crying.

Jynx felt almost humiliated watching the three. He folded his hands briefly over his eyes in frustration. "Jynx. Here he comes", Failinis finally said. Heading toward them was a large man in what appeared to be a bright yellow gown, with orange tapestries. If Jynx couldn't guess any better, he'd guess the man was a Eunuch, though he wasn't one to complain where his money came from. The large man walked almost discreetly toward them. Once reaching them, he simply stopped and turned toward the events.

"Truly is a shame." the man said quietly. "All these men. Dead. I'm not sure how you saved the boy, but I thank you. I promised his mother he'd remain safe in my hands, and I'd truly hate to break that promise. Though, I wish all these men could have been spared." He turned toward Jynx with a smile. "Though a man like you cares nothing for the likes of boys like these, do you? You just seek your money. Of course." The man pulled a coin purse from his pockets placing it in Jynx's hands. "Guardian of my promise. I hope one day you find peace. Until then..." he pulled something else from his pockets. "A man has informed me to give this to you. Perhaps your next payment source."

Jynx took the letter, staring at it. He already knew what Failinis would say. "Don't even think about it Jynx. We need to get out of here. We can't waste anymore time." Jynx peeled the seal anyways, hearing a snarl from Failinis. He had obviously been right. Perhaps a good deal of money would be worth it though. He prayed the reward was handsome, though inside was no offer of a reward.

"Meet me in the forest just outside the Fortress. We need to talk.

Signed,
I've been searching for you."

Jynx quickly gathered the Trio and took off out the gates with Failinis at his side. He had his money from the fat man. Now he needed to find out what who this man after him was. However, he didn't need to search at all. As he walked outside the gate, a figure stood there. The man looked almost identical to Jynx himself, except he had no hair, and his body was adorned with gold braces. Failinis simply stared back and forth between the two. The Trio however floated up hiding behind Jynx's head. He could hear Tynx whisper, "I told you it was you."

Rynx snickered. "No. I think our Jynx's head is bigger. Fat head."

/Hello Jynx. Odd saying hello to myself, but I guess I must./, the Doppelganger spoke. /No need to say anything. I am here simply to offer you a chance to end the curse that has haunted your heart for over two decades. Yes, I can end your brother's suffering now and return him to his human state./

The Doppelganger smiled at Failinis as the claws of a wolf suddenly became human. "He's a witch! Burn him!", Tynx yelled.

"I think the proper term is Warlock Tynx, and they don't do that anymore. I think they pour water on them now and it melts them", Lynx informed.

Rynx just sighed. "Of all the times I didn't bring my watergun."

"Shut up." Jynx barked. "What is it that you want from me? Ask and you shall receive. I long to return my brother to his original state." Failinis wasn't sure what to say. He simply watched as his hands began slowly returning to it's wolf state. He hadn't seen his human hands in so long. "Well..."

/You will be heading to a tournament. A tournament that I-- you-- attended last year. One that we attended once as a child as well, though only a spectator then. You do not remember now, but you will. This contact between us has made sure of that. Last year I attended, and my master and I failed. The failure wasn't important though. We had no true desire to win. However, we lost something. Something very important to us. A Boy. The organizer decided to punish us during our second match for trying to disrupt his tournament. He did so by taking him. Tip is his name. I'd say simply try to receive him, but that will not work. Liaison will not just return him so easily. You will need to come out victor in his little game. Win, and bring Tip back to us and you will have your brother's curse removed./

Jynx didn't need to say another word. They both knew he would accept.

The Way of The Warrior

For portal flashed once again as Jynx stepped through the portal. Failinis was at his side. Two of the trio sat on each shoulder. The final one on his head. He could just smell the power in the air. This was surely the place. He walked forward staring at the people that flocked the lobby. He wasn't sure who the competitors were, nor did he care. He had finally found a chance to save his brother and he wasn't going to stop until he finished this thing.

The clerk wandered toward him, with a key and a clipboard. "Sir. Welcome to--"

"Shut up. I remember. I remember it all." He walked deeper into the lobby. "Liaison! I have returned to reclaim the boy! Your rules, your way." He pulled a blade from his glove on his right hand, and then sending the blade deep into his left hand and cutting across his own flesh. "By my blood." he trailed off toward the rooms, trailing blood with his fist out to his side. "... when I finish this game of yours, I will reclaim him. He then vanished into his room.

[The Charmer]

The sound of a toilet flushing echoed through the lobby as the only visible door opened, a man in black, loose jeans and a red leather hoodie stepped from the doorway and walked forwards a few steps, patting himself down.

He looked up after a while and frowned "What the... Where the fuck am I?" He asked no-one in particular, almost as soon as he looked up, he'd been in a coffee shop in the middle of southtown, all he needed to do was nip in for a piss, and he'd felt something like spacial movement, he'd shrugged it off, he wished he hadn't now however.

He looked around slowly, spotting a handful of other people, dressed outlandishly, he rolled his eyes and shook his head jerkily, he must be hallucinating, if that coke was as strong as he'd been led to believe, he must be tripping, however, when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed.

"Shit... What have I gotten my self into now... I'm gonna guess at, some form of tourney" he muttered before heading forwards, he looked behind himself, and saw that the door to the kazi had disappeared, he frowned and shrugged "Looks like I'm fuckin' stuck here now" he mused before beginning his search for a smoke.

[Rilla]

Fated Meeting

He could see his breathe materialize in the cold air. He had finally found the man that had caused him a lifetime of pain and then some. No longer could the envoy of his misery escape his grasp, trapped within a snowy field that would soon be red with the blood of the Liaison. Both blades, Alphonse and Azio, held hard in hands that had been painted with the blood of hundreds before this fated night. He could see the fear that ran rampant in the eyes of a man who had no where left to run. It was almost poetic, the stillness of the air, the frigid temperature, and the soft quietness that was only broken by the breaths that he took before he launched his attack. He would end it in one, not prolong it for the genius of a monster to figure a plan of escape. Yes, this would be decided in one blow, and that blow would come now.

He leapt through the air, Azio and Alphonse pulled into an X-Formation over his chest. Liaison had yet to move, Alphonse could feel it now - could feel the very pulse of Liaison as he neared his quarry. HE was there! It was there! Now bring your blades down! Strike hard, strike fast - demolish!

“AHHHHH!” He shot up in a cold sweat, his hands gripping the hilts of Alphonse and Azio, though they remained sheathed. The quiet flickering of the slowly dying fire caught his attention, as well as a silhouette, one that was not cast by himself. In a flash he was on the target, but found only the soft embrace of shadows.

“Ever the aggressor.” Came a soft voice from the other side of the room.

Alphonse turned quick, and leapt once more, but continued to catch the shadows. He knew the man, he knew the voice, the mockery, the underlying sarcasm - it was Liaison.

“Why do you attack and hunt me so? Surely, you must have something better to do, like survive? Have you really not figured it out yet? You cannot touch me! No one can! Not even the Sacred, nor the Forsworn, nor the Sky Pirates, nor anyone in this existence or the next, or the one after that.” There was slight agitation in his voice, but Alphonse didn’t catch it.

“What are you doing here, Liaison?” Alphonse held his blades tight, not until this beast of a man was dispatched or gone from his sight.

“I came to offer you a chance.”

“A chance at what?”

“Me.”

Alphonse was struck silent - this had to be some kind of trick, no man, or beast, would willingly let himself be in the same area of attack as his foe, not without some type of game plan in place! “What trickery is this?”

“There is none, you do something for me and I shall give you the chance you’ve always wanted. Revenge. Of course, I do have my own tactics for survival, but that is something you can understand, is it not?”

“How can I trust you?”

“The answer is simple. You can’t. We both know I’m a borderline sociopath. Hell, last tournament, I kidnapped a kid. Not that I’m upset about it, and whatnot, it was actually quite fun. But here’s the kicker, the guy I took the kid from? He’s coming back, and that’s why I need you. You are going to enter Way of the Warrior II, which I’ve named Blood Shed, and defeat him, or ensure his defeat. If you do, you can have your shot at me, which if you win, sees you having your family restored.”

Alphonse sat quietly, risk his life and prevent a man from finding his kid, or lose his only sure-fired shot at Liaison. The man was a tricky bastard, conniving, malicious, and down hearted black hearted, but he couldn’t pass up this chance. He couldn’t pass up the chance to see his own children, no, not for another being. But could he really become a mercenary for Liaison, the cause of the pain in his heart and now for another? Did he have a choice? Spend perhaps eternity looking for Liaison, or claw his way to a victory of this unnamed man, no he couldn’t. “I-I.. I’ll do it. But if you fuck me over, Liaison, I swear to God, I’ll kill you and everyone you’ve known - starting with your brother, Jadik - The Genius.”

Liaison hadn’t been expecting that, only a few know of his connection to the writer of the Manifesto of Existence. But it didn’t matter, he hadn’t seen Jadik in ages, nor had he seen the Monk or Shao, either. He had no doubt that Alphonse could find them, but could he kill them? “Glad to have you on board, Alphonse. You’ll be sent along shortly. His name is Jynx or rather, Horak‘hty Ra Airgetlám.” With that, he left, but not before seeing Alphonse shake and fall to his knees, a new mercenary.

Teasin’ Freedom

The cane appeared first, then slowly the materializing body of Liaison, floating just an inch above Jynx. He didn’t know if the beast was awake or asleep, but that did not matter, nay, he wanted this to be a surprise. “Wakey, wakey,” He cooed softly, letting his words brush out from his lips and towards Jynx. No doubt the man would have an adverse reaction to Liaison appearing above him. Next came Tip, tied in a corner of the room, explosives still attached to his body. For now, Liaison ignored Rynx, Lynx, and Tynx, who were now chatting excitedly about Liaison.

Jynx stared up at Liaison for a moment, then turned his head back over as if continuing to sleep. "I knew I smelled something. I thought it was Rynx though." Jynx, of course, expected Liaison to show up eventually. The vibration in his sword as he slept only confirmed his arrival. "If this is about the mess in your hallway, get one of your maids to clean it up. I'm busy." He placed his pillow over his face trying to block out what sounded like Tynx trying to sing. "As you can tell."

“Well, you see, I would, but I’m afraid if I get bored, Tip will explode.” A smirk crossed his lips as he watched the man. “You three, leave the room, now. Go wreck havoc across the lobby, for all I care.” His attention turned back to Jynx.

The Trio scattered into the Lobby, with much excitement. "Your poor participants and house maids. I already feel sorry for them." Jynx muttered trying to push himself up, only to be suddenly forced back. "We both know you haven't come to kill me. We also both know you aren't going to do anything with Tip till you get what you want and you are here so you obviously want something. The Liaison I know usually plays a better game than that. So, you want to talk." Jynx pressed against whatever was holding him down. "Get off me, stop trying to play your little game, and then we can talk. If not, get the hell out of my face."

Liaison smirked as he was pushed upward. He shifted into a Indian-style sitting position. “Well of course I do, but this isn’t about a game, no this is about something serious. If you want Tip back, no games, you have to do something for me.” He moved away from the bed and listened at the door. The sounds of the Trio moving about through the lobby becoming his music. “There is someone arriving soon, or perhaps already here, and I need you to kill him sometime during this tournament. If you can do that, you’ll get Tip back, no strings or bombs, attached.” Tip slid forward, almost magically, a thirty second countdown starting. “You know this blast won’t kill me, it was shaped to be stronger than even Terra’s blast, you know him, don’t you? Ares’ son. A combustion maven of all things.”

"You don't get it, do you?" Jynx moved from the bed, standing and patting down his equipment. "I know you heard me upon entering. I'm here for Tip. Simple as that. Even if I have to bring him back in a thousand pieces. Don't think for a second I have a personal attachment for the kid. However, If that is your price, then so be it. I'll kill every person in this tournament." Screams came from the hallway. "Now that was just coincidence." From the smell, one of the trio had obviously started a fire. He could hear the bewildering cries of Rynx through the door. The demonic looking Trio member had a ironically deadly fear for Fire, though he could control it. "Your deal has been accepted. Perhaps it is time for them to come back in before your lobby goes up in flame."

The grin on his face grew larger, “Perfect.” He had set it up, two mercenaries were now in the tournament and out to kill each other. Liaison had took long enough to reply, and it had almost cost Tip his life, and probably Jynx’s own. “Well then, I suppose you’ll be wanting to know the name of your target and that’s simple. It’s the man known as “The Warrior” Alphonse. You remember the name, don’t you? And as for something else, he also bears a likeness to your rival, Rilla - The Creator - The Sacred.” Liaison twisted around and reached towards Tip, whose faces was caked in tears. Both vanished into the void, Tip back to his holding cell and Liaison back to entertain his more important guests.

The Return of the Warrior

The familiar feel of the teleported brought back many memories, his first and last fights, the blood that coated him when he walked through the doors of his home. He fought back the tears, and resisted the urge to reach forth and grab his weaponry. His eyes danced around the Lobby, he could feel it, others were here. They were here, he could tell by the blood shed on the counter and the fact a fire was started. He wondered what manner of person started it, then caught a small, humanoid figure dart across the lobby. It had to be that and he hoped that it was not one of the participants. With a shake of his head, he approached the desk.

“I am Alp--”

“Alphonse? You’re back! Oh my God! An honest to God winner of the Way of the Warrior has returned? You must have heard? The last one turned out to be a failure, drop outs, no shows, the works.” She rambled for a moment, but he rose his hands to cut her off.

“Has a man named Jynx arrived?”

“Yes, he has. This is his blood, and that thing, there are three of them. They are with him as well.” She shook her head. “Well, do you want your original room?” Of course, he did, and she gave him his key and sent him on his way. He didn’t go there though, no, instead he placed himself on a couch and looked into the flames, both Alphonse Jr. and Azio laid across his lap; either one hilt to his right and one to his left.

The Warrior had returned.

[GrievousKhan]

Sleeping King

Sleeping king.

Long have I awaited your return. Long have I guarded these ancient walls. Deep within the catacombs of a dead kingdom I have waited, a kingdom so old even I have long forgotten it's true name. Since time immemorial I have stalked its halls. Waiting for my king to awaken. How long have I waited? Time seems meaningless. How many have dared to enter these caverns seeking what is not theirs? I know not, for I have long lost interest in keeping count. Hundreds, thousands perhaps. It makes no difference, for they all failed.

Sleeping King.

When will you awaken? It would seem I have walked these halls endlessly. I have served well, this I know, for the bodies of my countless foes lay scattered amid these hollowed chambers as a testament to this very fact. I sense however, that you may never awaken. Though I am a fitting guardian, I am unable to quicken your return to this plane. The time of awakening may never come, for the those who have dared to seek out the fallen ruins of Thultanthar are but thieves and bandits. They lack the inner strength required for your resurrection.

For this reason I am faced with a choice. One that might decide the fate of I and the very real possibility of my entire mission. The white stranger has promised me the thing I seek most. Nah, but twofold more for he promises the two things I exist for and little else.

A worthy challenge and the key that may change everything.

If this is true I have little choice but to seek out this strangers tourney and enter it. It will be no simple task, one far more dangerous then acting as eternal guardian of Thultanthar. I leave this ancient Codex in the chance i do not return. Should I fail I fear all will be for not, but if I do not act it will just the same and I would have accomplished nothing.

Forgive my my King should I be wrong, should I be found to have lacked the faith in waiting for your true awakening. What I do now I do in in loyalty to you. I have sealed away the ancient vaults to all prying eyes until I return. Should I ever return.


-To my Lord and Master, Torigh Oughys

The Lobby

The Warping powers of the portal revived showering the entire lobby in a shining light but for an instant, blinding most. A moment later there standing upright on the portal platform was a seven foot high metal construction that was shaped in many ways like a giant coffin. Warped in chains and numerous locks. Workers on sight who had been ordered to expect such a package wasted little time and begun to retrieve a huge powered carrying cart which they set behind the huge iron coffin. It took nearly twelve men to load it to the carrying cart, were the steersmen the powered the carts engine and, with it's package, made it's way slowly through the lobby. No doubt many a participate would be bewildered at what such a huge object my hold.

Even those who had been given careful instruction did not know it's contents. But many a buzz and rumor mentioned tale that it could very well hold some unsightly beast of iron and fire, others thought it might hold some horrible aberration and other's a alien displacer beast

However these were all but rumors and only two beings in this entire tournament knew the truth. For now all would have, at best, intelligent guesses, and some not so intelligent, at it's occupant. As it was steered to it's attended destination before the tournament started proper, a few workers talked aloud.

"God damn that thing was heavy...what in the nine hells is in this thing anyway?"

His fellow worker shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, knowing Liaison might be a god-damn waffle iron for all we know."

Soon they arrived to a large circular room void of any tapestry or decoration. There they unloaded their burden and after soon left the Iron coffin until the time of the tournament began.