Page 7 of 11 FirstFirst ... 56789 ... LastLast
Results 61 to 70 of 104

Thread: Way of the Warrior II - Blood Shed - Lobby

  1. #61
    Melon Oracle MelonHead's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    England
    Posts
    7,250
    Just as the fighting heated up in a replay of a spectacular battle between a woman and a bare fisted elementalist, Sigurd’s attention was diverted by the new arrival. Somewhere to his left, a woman was wailing and close to complete despair, emotions he had seen expressed far too often.

    Sigurd pulled himself away from the monitor, to track down the source of the anguished wailing. His principles would not allow him to leave a woman in distress without at least trying something to dam the flood of tears. Before, it had been carrying a stricken husband from the hill top, mindful of the arrows impaled deep in his chest. The blood had run down his shoulder, and the man was heavy in his armour… but he had pushed through.

    When he had reached the woman, she had smacked him in the face. And ran to her husband’s side… Sigurd had muttered his apologies… and re-joined his party, leaving his bow on the ground. He vowed not to take a man’s life in such a cowardly way again, war was war, but he would not make it through with such guilt. A man deserved to face his killer, to look into his eyes and judge his morals. Somehow that made it easier to bear.

    He strode quickly across the lobby room. A quick glance revealed the woman’s intentions, which although strange to him were not completely unfamiliar. He quickened his pace, clearing the distance in a few steps and stopping a couple of feet away from her. Determined to question her motives, rather than forcing her away from the deed and causing her to return at a later date.

    He could not help but notice that behind her tear stained face was a great beauty. She reminded him of many a farmer’s daughter in his homeland, with long blonde hair and a bustling build. But that was beside the point.

    “Woman… please calm yourself. What ails you?” He took a quick step forward and placed himself just below her, so she could not jump and end her life before he had chance to talk. If she attempted it anyway, he was fairly certain he could catch her.
    MelonHead does not give out free Melons.

  2. #62
    Gothic Nightmare Skallagrim's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2010
    Location
    The ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber
    Posts
    3,121
    THE DANCE OF LIFE AND DEATH




    Skallagrim glanced up and saw the scene in the lobby. Intrigued at the events that were transpiring he glanced at Liaison, his voice a low static filled hiss, “This looks entertaining, may I allow my aesr to visit this event and record it? I shall not interfere!”

    Skallagrim sat back and allowed his energies to flow outward in a pulsation that only the most powerful of entities could feel, much less detect. A swirling dark energy raced through the complex until it reached the incident where the woman was trying to commit suicide and the large, hulking man was trying to clam her.

    Allowing the almost imperceptible energies to coalesce, the subtly faint grinning death’s head of Skallagrim became evident for a moment a scant few feet from the woman, eyes a shimmering amethyst as he focused upon the scene. After a second the image faded as the galdhr began to record the event, allowing it to be stored to be played back again.

    Back in the luxury box, Skallagrim sat up as his attention was back in the room, having dispatched the dark energies to record the event as it would play out.

    “I thank you...”He said as he bowed slightly to Liaison
    The writer who cares more about words than about characters, action, setting, and atmosphere is unlikely to create a vivid and continuous dream; he gets in his own way too much; in his poetic drunkenness, he can't tell the cart- and its cargo- from the horse.

    -John Gardner



    "Grieve not, wise warrior. It is better
    to avenge one's friend than mourn too much.
    Each of us must one day reach the end
    Of worldly life, let him who can win
    glory before he dies: that lives on
    after him, when he lifeless lies."

  3. #63
    Delightfully Evil Lyzan's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Battlefield
    Posts
    3,600
    No reactor?
    The travel have not been any pleasant than the first few trip. Nonetheless this time, the Soldier held his breath along with his consumption as the vile taste of vomit reached up to his throat. His face distorted with disgust as he swallowed it back down. Wind rushed seemingly through him as the flash of light died down. Slowly, he straightened himself up. The greatblade hoisted and resting over his left shoulder, held within his left hand. Arcana's arm no longer in his right hand but the dagger still remained on his right shoulder. Xeelov stood still for a moment. Unmoving as he dropped his gaze to the floor, concentrating on the environment. Everything seemed to be just as the way he'd left. Nothing had changed. He smirked and exitted the chamber. A few safe steps beyond the entrance he walked before the Soldier inhaled. Finally breathing normally.

    His attention then shifted to the commotion in the main lobby where a woman seemed to be in the process of commiting suicide. Not far from her was one of the tournament's participant, he believed. The Soldier frowned as his pace resumed. Heading towards the restoration chamber. Eavesdropping on the conversation as he walked. Such drama, he thought. How in the world did this got caught up in such an environment, he'd wondered. His pace slowed down as his attention turned to his potential "dancing-partner". An interesting man with an interesting arm as well as ....attitude. He turned to face the pair when he was just next to the entrance into the healing room. Head tilting sideways as he studied them with narrowed eyes.

    "Hesitations... A very confusing emotion that one.. Dangerous too... for warriors such as us.. It's a risk between life and death," Xeelov blatantly spoke. "Decisions.. They should be made quick and certain.. and should be in the absence of hesitation.." his voice loud enough for those near the scene to hear. "If she truly want to kill herself, she would've been dead already.. And if you..." he paused as his next words was directed to the man before her. "...truly wished to stop her, it should've been done already.. Such act of kindness, of consideration, of remorse for another under such a situation will only endanger yourself as well as those around you.." Xeelov grunted then and turned on his heels to enter the restoration chamber. "Naught could be gained from it but regrets.." said the Soldier as his back disappeared into the room.

    Upon entering the room, his right hand reached for the dagger's hilt to pull it out but he paused as the interior structures seemed totally different than what he was used to back in the headquarters. There wasn't any reactor in sight. He wasn't too sure how the function worked or how effective it would be. Xeelov settled himself in the seat and tapped into his healing ability. Just to be on the safe side and not to depend entirely on a machine he wasn't familiar with. The dagger was then extracted and a spray of blood spurted out from his wound. Xeelov gritted and focused on his skills, Curaga. He slid the dagger into his right boot, concealing it from plain sight before he leaned back and allow the contraption to heal him on top of his own enchantment.

    _____________________
    Signature/Set edited by
    Fallenreaper


  4. #64
    Path Seeker Jude's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2012
    Posts
    225
    The contender looking most like her former master, comparatively, had met her before she was situated to release her weight and interjected. She had declarations she wanted to be made known for some unknown reason to herself. She felt the need to declare her reasoning in hopes of getting some sort of validation for her action. Permission was needed for everything and even now the ingrained procedure held somewhat true. She just wanted to let them know she had a reason; it would be permission enough, seeing as her master was disassembled. It took moments to calm her chest cavity and keep it from gasping and heaving long enough to get words out. Before she could speak another contestant strode by unnoticed by her. The man’s address did receive her attention and distract her slightly from her own despair, That is, until the words fell. She no longer cared about justifications. These people held no attachments and therefore could not grant any form of closure. She lifted her right leg slightly and brought it forward before striking the seat of the chair below her with her heel to knock it cleanly away from her other foot. The chain would pinch as hard as death should grasp. Each connection of links would bite into the soft meat of her neck and click their teeth as the weight forced the tautness of the chain to press her air pipe closed. It also would restrict blood flow which would be apparent by the coloring of her face. Should she be left, the blood capsules would rupture near the surface leaving her skin stained red before bruising in spots and in enough time all attempts to resist would cease with its purpose completed.

    Except for the fact that the dragon slayer had other ideas, he had enough death of his conscience, more so than most humans. This was his chance to, in some small way, make amends. So, without a second thought of passing up the opportunity, he sprang into action. When it became apparent that she intended to push the chair away, he jumped forward with a startled cry as the chair was thrown back. He cleared the distance quickly, as he had thoughtfully moved closer beforehand. As the chain lengthened, moments away from tightening and possibly breaking her neck in the process, he lunged at her falling form and caught her around the legs, holding her up easily with one arm.

    As he prevented her asphyxiation, he reached down for his sword at his side and swore. What were the chances of that?

    Giving up on that approach, he thrust his leg forward and hooked the fallen chair, forcing it down by the leg and causing it to lurch towards him. With his free hand, he deftly caught it, and hoping the woman would be less keen to make the plunge again, he set it up again. With a sigh, for her weight was starting to become significant even in his left arm, he stood her atop the chair again, and gave her a look of grim determination.

    “Enough of this foolishness, talk to me woman. What is your name?” He asked her.

    Even after fully dedicating herself to her own demise there was no interference. She wasn't taken off guard by being picked up, tossed about was fairly common for her. The lack of shooting pain she prepared herself for was a relief, but one that upset her greatly. She barked at this situation while he fiddled for the chair. "I have no Master! I am only his property and he is gone! I am nothing now! I have..." Her outburst quickly faded into sobs once more "I have no one" The air heaved out in rhythmic wails of despair again. As he tried to let her stand again her legs would go weak as a pissed toddler refusing to stand."Let me be" A long nasal inhale sucked up a shoestring of snot. "You make my degrading existence prolong, there's no good to be done here." Depending on the sensitivity and the position of his arm he may have felt the wetness of small trickles of urine as her body clenched, unbeknownst to herself, during the attempt on her own life. The amount would be fairly noticeable to someone close by but not an exceeding amount.

    Her words mellowed him, and his grim expression grew darker. It was saddening to see a woman degraded to such a level, that she actually believed she needed a master to live. He decided some force would be necessary to coax her from her precarious position. He noticed her fearful loss of bladder control, truly, but he ignored her humiliation. He had seen ‘brave’ men do far worse for far less.

    He shook her slightly, not enough to unbalance her but enough to shake her from her self-pity.
    “No man or woman is another’s property, lady. You do not need a master to live, would you give up everything for such a foolish… notion?” He asked her.

    “Degrading? No. You are free, how you lived before was in true squalor, now you have the chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of whatever god watches over you. If you take your life now you lose that, which would be doing yourself an injustice woman. Remove that chain from your neck, you do not want to die, you just don’t realize it yet.”

    He looked around the room, there was little in reach which he could use to remove the chain himself, if he was going to prevent her from suicide he would need her help.

    "Even though I was his... he, he, he was all I had. I have nothing now. His gods died with him. I'VE LOST EVERYTHING I NEVER HAD! I DON’T EVEN HAVE MY PLANET TO FALL AND GROVEL ON!" Her voice was hoarse and cracked; she coughed and spat phlegm to the floor. Her fatigue and lack of motivation to carry anything on was winning her over. The way her body waggled like a rag doll when shook, relayed such. She spoke calmer after a small moment of transition. "Free, live free you say. You speak like you've known any difference. You’re telling the fish to breathe air and enjoy it." Her tone was delivering modest insults to his hurried words of hollow reassurance. "Do what you will..." She stated before leaning her weight against him and closing her eyes with no intention of assisting with the chain.

    Once more, he was forced to accept her barrage of emotion with a mellow expression. He shook his head sadly as she leaned against him, for he knew that he had failed in part.

    “I will not let you die here woman. Do you think this master you love so much would want you dead because of him? I think not."

    Sigurd was nothing if not determined; it was a trait that runs strong in his family. The Stonehearts were aptly named. Sigurd was a tall man, strong and capable. He easily kept her weight up, by half balancing her on the chair and leaning her down as far as the chain would allow. It was close, but with her at an extreme angle and no doubt feeling the welcome tug of the chain around her neck, he reached up to examine the ‘noose.’ It seemed to be attached to some kind of leather strap; he felt a surge of hope. Perhaps he could save the woman after all, although he was beginning to feel as if she would not thank him for it. He would make the hard decision for her though, perhaps one day she would see what he had done in the right light. It was a possibility.

    He shifted her weight over onto his right shoulder and held her with his right arm. While simultaneously dragging his powerful stone arm up to the leather strap at her neck. It was simplicity in itself to feel for the seams in the leather and with a careful tug unfasten it from her neck, releasing her from her bondage.

    Without the chain as an obstacle, he carefully lifted her to the ground with both hands around her arms and placed her there.

    “Please, forgive me woman, but I would have your name if I may. I would address you as the free-woman you have become.”

    "Fara" she spoke with monotony from her seated position. Her tired torso leaned forward and rested on her hands leaving her hair to hide her downward gaze. "Well I'm free now hero" her voice continued in its rough expressionless way. "Free to go to the home I don't have, eat the foods I cannot earn for myself. Free to practice the trades I do not know for the money I don't have. I suppose, for my body, you would feed me no? If you don't want me to give you release then I am useless to you because I have no other skills to practice." She was not extremely versed it was true; the despair though still wrapped over her like a coddled infant and affected her outlook. She was too lost to think about her next move but knew trying to off herself at this point was futile.

    “Fara, it is my honor to meet you. I am Sigurd Stoneheart.” He told her, pleased at last that she at least seemed to be coming around. Although her next barrage of self-pity dimmed this hope somewhat.

    “Life’s hard, woman. I’m sure you know that. While I still live I guess you can stay here as my guest, so food should not be a concern as of yet. You can take your ‘master’s’ room, no? I expect nothing from you, but if I survive this tournament you may return to my land. You can learn how to cook, how to clean or farm. It does not matter. I will give you this chance because it was the opportunity given to me. I see it only right that I repay that debt”. He looked at her again, saddened by her grim outlook on life. But also slightly annoyed, she had a hard life, of that he was sure, but had she seen her friends and family devoured by dragons or burned to ash? No. Sigurd was a good man, a paragon even, but he could be tested to his limits.

    “Or you may return to your own land. You are a beautiful woman with more than ample skill at wiling away foolish men; I have no doubt of this. You can survive; the question is if you want to.”

    He had extended his generosity and as she looked up to stare at a wall opposite him she would let her head nod solemnly. His reasoning was solid and she wasn't sure the room would still be offered to her since it was to be a combatant’s abode but until she found out otherwise, she would use it. She just couldn't lock the door as the key was still on Jude's body. He let her know she could make the decision on where to go if it were up to him. It gave her some semblance of hope and she couldn't help but ponder what a different planet might hold in store. After a brief moment of mulling the idea around in her head she responded. "Your offer is gracious, I guess I can linger around and think it over until you...win" She was on the verge of being mean but didn't want to cross any lines, after all he had done nothing to wrong her in any manner, so she substituted die for win. "Then perhaps I will have an answer for you, us. If you don't mind I think I'm going to sit a while." She was queen of the other slaves in a previous life and knew how to be assertive. It poured out of her in this situation. She had always kept it in reserve around the free until now. The idea of killing herself once he was dead was figured to be best left unmentioned. She rested on the cool cratered tile of the floor.

    “I’ll leave you now then, Fara. If I fall in this place then I do not know what will become of you, another reason to win I suppose.” He let his hands drop. “You could always use the chairs you know.” He told her with a faint smile, turning with a conclusive movement and striding back to his previous position. He felt his heart uplifted, the burdens of life had darkened his soul as of late and the tournament had threatened to curse him further. Yet, with the peaceful ending with Tamara, his conscience was relatively clear.

    "I smell like piss" She said quietly to herself before giving a small sigh as she realized now the pounding headache she earned herself was going to make her regret she still had a head.

  5. #65
    Irish Legacy Moderator Guru's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2010
    Location
    North Ireland - United States
    Posts
    7,535
    The Truths

    Jynx could not help but smile when Liaison showed up spatting. It was true he had not expected him to show up with such ditaste, but that was something that could not be helped. However, he seen the true face of his opponent. The fear that gripped Jynx's heart since he arrived at the tournament was suddenly fading away. He wasn't afraid to die, and more importantly, he was no longer afraid of Liaison. In truth, his battle with the one known as Jude was short, but to him... it was much longer. He had not only learned more about the ways of this tournament, and his True Opponent, but about himself as well.

    His true goal was becoming more apparent to him. He would rescue Tip if he could. After all, he had made a promise to do so. However, even Jynx was modest enough to realize that there was more going on here than originally planned. His thoughts landed on the young boy that had appeared to him. He was obviously no ordinary kid. Jynx was sure that his abilities extended beyond that which was apparent. He wasn't sure what he wanted out of him, but one thing was for sure. There were more Truths to be found in this bed of lies.

    Then there was Liaison. Jynx thoughts on his words and his actions. Liaison obviously wanted something from him, but what? "You’ve obliterated a man here today, and now you get to live to fight another day, while this man is no more! How does that make you feel? " Jynx grinned. He had no intention of letting Jude die. The boy was a casualty to a higher purpose. Liasion hoped to strike fear and anguish in his heart, but he truly did the opposite.

    Jynx felt suddenly full of energy. He would make it through this tournament no matter what it cost him. He'd die if it came to that. However, in his death he would succeed. Liaison was underestimating him. The blinding flash ended and he was back in the lobby staring at his four comrades who were all looking at him in curiosity. After sending Jude off with one of the Lobby Workers to head to the regeneration room, They'd head back to his room and fill them in while they waited for the second matches to begin. It wouldn't be long now.

    Dagorim


    Off in another plane of existence, a small boy sat on a throne in a dark room. Dust lay thick on the stone that surrounded him. Before him, three men stood staring at their master. "Lord Jynx." A masked man in the center spoke. Nothing was visible of the man. He bore a large cloak bearing simply three circular motions on it. His mask covered all but his eyes, which gave off a dark presence. "Everything seems to be going as planned. Soon, your Soul Fragment shall collapse the Seraphic magics and the release will begin. The Dragons are already stirring."

    The boy sat quietly, his eyes staring beyond the men. His appearance wasn't like when he confronted Jynx. There was no smile. His demeanor gave nothing but solitude. "And what of the Lucian boy?" He whispered silently. "Has the Monk arrived to care for his target? If he fails, the whole plan falls apart." The boy gritted his teeth. "and I won't accept failure."

    The man in the center nodded. "Yes, my Lord." He lifted his hand straightening his mask. "The Monk has arrived at Cellon according to plan, supposedly captured by the boy's father and his soldiers. The training has already began. Soon, he will be ready to lift the seal. But sir..." He groaned momentarily as if not wanting to ask what he was about to. "That boy. He resembles the Dagorim in so many ways. Are we sure we can use him? You know what might happen if he turns his back on us."

    The boy on the throne grinned, his teeth showing a menacing demeanor. "I am well aware of what the boy is and the blood flowing in his vein, but are you not a Dagorim yourself, Einryth?" The boy stood from his throne. "Dagorim or not, he is of our blood. Only he can unlock the seal and only he can control the dragons." He seen the man was about to speak again, but cut him off before he could do so. "He has the power we need, but more than that... he has a soul keen to this. He was born for this. State your true fear, Einryth. You fear the boy will come to be stronger than you. You fear he will take your place in my Hierarchy." The boy sat back on his chair, going back into his original state. "No one can replace your value to me, Einryth. There is no need for you to fear this boy. He has his role to play, and you have your's. You know what happens when you deny fate."

    Jynx gave Einryth a solemn glare. "Very well, My Lord. I apologize for doubting you." He gave a quick bow and continued. "The boy, Jude. He is ready. I'll have the Wardens ready for your return."

    Jynx stood again, with a frustrated sigh. "I see." He held up a small shard, glowing with life. "You Dagorim have been the life and death of our mighty empire. It is a cycle of renewal. The old High King shall be no more. When we rise, You, Einryth shall take the place of the old man, until a time I see fit. Now, Call the Seraphics. We have some work to do."
    "I shut my eyes in order to see. We work in the dark, we give what we have.
    Our doubt is our passion, and our passion is our task.
    The rest is the madness of art."
    __________________________
    |RP Guide|Ask a Comrade|RPG Contests|
    |Staff List|


    >Guru's Wonderful Guide to Profile Customization<

    >Private Message<



  6. #66
    The Overlord yoshua171's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Where I wish to be
    Posts
    7,568
    She'd been watching the fights when other entered the room and then the damned familiar voice reached her ears. Frowning she turned to look behind her and had a brief start, her body seeming to go into battle-mode for a moment before she laughed, loudly -likely attracting some measure of attention- and then sat back down and took a good gulp of her drink before chuckling to herself, almost a giggle really, and whispering. "Yeah, a damn annoying fail-safe..." she said and glanced from screen to screen in order to absorb as much of the battle information as she possibly could.

    She noted the entrance, and subsequent ending of their battle, of several individuals at varying intervals. Casana smirked to herself wryly and glanced at the invisible energies connecting the ring to the spirit of her felled adversary "I hope you don't intend to bring me more trouble." 'Damned heathen ghost' she thought to herself silently within the shelter of he thoughts. "Otherwise I ought to exorcise ya!" the last comment was a bit louder and would be just audible to the others. Casana had no care, she'd slay 'em all if need be.
    Last edited by yoshua171; 07-06-2012 at 08:32 AM.

    Credit goes to Lillian Thorne.


    Roleplays I run
    Spoiler

  7. #67
    Open Your Eyes The Charmer's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2011
    Location
    Your worst nightmares... Or, alternatively, Yorkshire o.O
    Posts
    11,814
    He laughed and shook his head, lifting his arms and linking his hands behind his head, leaning back slightly and turning his head to face her once again "You see, Casana, that ring you wear, will not so much bring trouble, as benefit you, since it was what I once wore as a method of controlling my power, you, however, won't have so much control over that power, more, it'll be there, but you won't be able to tap into it directly, it'll just, happen" he said softly, looking up at the screen and watching their own battle unfold, nearing the end of the bout.

    He smirked slightly, laughing as he attempted to nudge her, his elbow passing right through her shoulder Hey, this is where it gets good he said with a smirk as the screen showed him flipping towards her shielded form at the end of the match, his hand could be seen slipping into his pocket and appearing with the small ring around his middle finger.
    "This is my escape. I'm running through this world and I'm not looking back.
    'Cause I know I can go. Where no-one's ever gone and I'm not looking back.
    But how will I know when I get there? And how will I know when to leave?
    We've all gotta start from somewhere. It's like that for me!
    The possibilities are, never-ending!
    I see it! I see it! And now it's all within my reach! (Endless Possibilities!)
    I see it! I see it now! It's always been inside of me! (And now I feel so free!)
    Endless Possibilities."

    In search of an RP.... Check out my Interest check Compenduim.... Free, Casual, Advanced, Arena and 1x1 will appear once they are complete

    [Lists are currently under maintenance]

    R.I.P Derek Anthony Medhurst. Born 06:12AM 01/09/2012 - Died 06:50AM 01/09/2012. May he never be forgotten.


  8. #68
    The Overlord yoshua171's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Where I wish to be
    Posts
    7,568
    She listened with a brief nod but never once looked back at him, she was intent to see the mistakes in her own match and better them for the next rush of adrenaline. Then she glanced back at the ghost that was the sentinel and nodded after glancing at her new found ring. She then looked back at the screens, riveted once more. "I see" was her only comment and it seemed almost...detached it nature.

    Credit goes to Lillian Thorne.


    Roleplays I run
    Spoiler

  9. #69
    Delightfully Evil Lyzan's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Battlefield
    Posts
    3,600
    The Viewing
    The wound first clogged itself with blood. Closing it off to an infection. White cells naturally fighting off the germs that'd barely entered past the opening. Threads of fibres, ligaments and vessels were now mended. Layer by layer, the injury worked it's way to a full recovery. Curaga simply hasten the natural healing Xeelov's body was doing. With the aid of the machine, the process was boosted. Soon, his condition returned to how he'd first entered the Lobby, healthy and unscathed. He waited for a bit longer to allow the ...Reactor to return the used up energy though. However needless it may seemed, the Lieutenant thought it was necessary.

    How would Zeth grade the match? How would the Captain have done it?

    Xeelov Def wondered. His eyes then went shut as he recalled a particular scene where he'd accidentally witnessed his idol's strength in the Training Chamber years ago. Where the Leader of the Elite forces took on his own team single-handedly. Armed. Each with a different style of fighting regardless of having trained under the same man yet the Captain seemed calm and impossible to beat. Xeelov flinched as he remembered how the Captain had moved. Fast and precise, leaving behind naught but a couple of after-images in his wake. One by one, his team fell. Either knocked unconcious by a devastating blow or laid crippled on the ground before he would have them recover in the Reactor. They were The Elite team yet they seemed to fail in felling the man. Wound him, yes. Hurt him, maybe. But there was just no tell-tale-signs of any real damage.

    The Lieutenant fluttered his eyes opened and stood up. Shaking his head to brush off the remnants of his thoughts on the Captain. He reminded himself that his focus was needed here. It would be a mistake to dwell on such memories on the battlefield. It'll mark his end, that; he knew. Looking down to briefly look at his trembling hands, Xeelov grunted. A mere thought of Zeth Havoc and he was already shaking. He'd to go through this, Xeelov thought. He'd to see this to the end. To come out as the victor. To win the tournament and by any means necessary. Grabbing the Vessel and resting it on his shoulder, the Lieutenant left the healing chamber. His gaze casted to the ground. Senses perked to the surroundings as he exitted the room.

    As Xeelov headed towards his room through the Lobby, he made a sideglance to the warrior he'd earlier blatantly spoken to. Then he eyed the slave girl before returning his attention to the floor. There were no acknowledgement whatsoever nor was there any sign of disapproval. But deep within, the idea of claiming the woman for his own use seemed rather welcoming. Too bad. Xeelov rolled the ring withing his glove; he was engaged.

    The walk was almost brisk. Allowing nobody to approach but only to have a good look at his retreating back. He entered his room not long after and began viewing all fights. The greatsword by his side as he laid on the bed with folded arms. His eyes fixed to the screen.

    Interesting...

    Thought Xeelov as he watched. With these data, the Soldiers back home would definitely improve their fighting capabilities against those dummies in the training chamber. An upgrade indeed, he thought as he recalled the message he'd read before he was sent here. Obviously, his next opponent would be one of the winners for the first round. He studied the matches. Observing each technique, moves and styles. Even their characteristics were taken into account.

    _____________________
    Signature/Set edited by
    Fallenreaper


  10. #70
    Path Seeker Jude's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2012
    Posts
    225
    The Mind, the Body,
    Reading music

    the Heart,
    Reading music

    and the Soul.
    Reading music
    Last edited by Jude; 07-04-2012 at 04:31 AM.

Page 7 of 11 FirstFirst ... 56789 ... LastLast

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •