NoW: Kurosawa Chiaki vs. Damnerung

[Skallagrim]

FIRST POST: Damnerung 2/10 deduction for missing two posting periods. Penalties at this point are a wash.

SECOND POST: Kurosawa Chiaki 2/10 deduction for missing two posting periods.

STARTING DATE: 2/9/13
ENDING DATE: 3/12/13 By agreement of both fighters the time line has been extended 10-days.

The Fortress Tortoisa

Bracketed Rounds
1: Rounds are scheduled in 21 day intervals. You have 21 days to complete the fight.
2: You have 48 hours before a connection post.
3: You have 48 hours after a match to file for dispute resolution.
4: There MUST be a winner/judgment at each match. A judge will be assigned to the match.
5: Winners will advance and face the winner of the other match in their bracket.

Combat is to be conducted following

This is a T1 fight-If you are unaware of what it is here are the most basic of rules.

Type 1 [T1] combat is a type of textual combat designed with logic, precision and detail in mind. It’s a turn-based style, allowing every player involved equal time and space to post their character’s move. There are four types of ‘turn’ that a player can make in a T1 fight: Prep, Attack, Defense and Connection. The fight is split in to 'tiers' which often consist of some/all of the aforementioned turns. A turn begins when a prep or attack is posted and ends when either a successful defense or connect is posted.

Prepping
A 'prep' is a turn in which the character prepares to launch their attack. Some special abilities require a certain amount of prep's before an attack can be successfully launched. As a player, it is your responsibility to be aware of which abilities require preps and then to adhere to these rules. Missing a single required prep will probably result in Eden's combat judges voiding the applicable tier of the fight.

A prepping move should state clearly what ability is being prepared for use and provide some imaginative description of this process, whether it be an elaborate ritual or a intense concentration etc.

Special abilities that do not require maintained focus/concentration can be combined with another turn. For instance, whilst a mage is launching a non-magical attack with his sword, he might be muttering an incantation in preparation for using a special ability later. Specifics must still be provided.

General Size

A pirate-controlled fortress built atop the corpse of a colossal tortoise 55 meters in length. An entrance to the fortress can only be accessed if scaling the harsh terrain towards the summit. The fortress houses the leader of the Cutlass Crew; Captain Gregory Cutlass, a most notorious and vile pirate. The Cutlass Crew bolsters a crew of 28, including the captain. They all wield crude weaponry, a part from the captain whom is said to have an enchanted blade that can summon a destructive tsunami.

Moss, ferns, and palm trees sprout from the slippery shell of the deceased creature. An entrance at the right side burrows deep within the corpse, winding tunnels and pathways criss-cross within, leading to caches of booty, storage areas, sleeping quarters, and a dungeon underneath the fortress.
The entirety of the fortress is in the shallow waters of the Sapphire Depths (An immense ocean on planet Zod, home of the Pangremal Jungle), in said waters are several dangers: Venomous sea snakes, rock fish, and the occasional jelly fish lurk within. In the deeper reaches of the Sapphire Depths are bloodthirsty great whites, that do approach the shallows occasionally.

Participant Limit
2-20

Magical Properties

No magical properties exist other than the corpse of the tortoise cannot seem to be revived by necromancy. Also, the flesh of the creature seems to have frozen in time, rather than rotted and withered. Although it appears to be, the fortress and the tortoise are not indestructible. A destructive ability could bring either down quickly.
Restrictions

Due to the slippery and precarious ledges upon the tortoises' shell, maneuvering is hindered greatly. One may easily loose their footing and slide down the side of the shell, into the dangerous waters below.

Suggested Character Level
3+

[Wind]

Through the rift of time and space, both halves of Damnerung's will eventually found themselves materialized in the same plane. Without a real concept of time, the collective wouldn't understand how many years they had been sent adrift, all they would understand was being idle no more. Their purpose would manifest itself again.

The heaviest would land first, being the artifact itself. Damnerung fell straight in to the pirate fortress, leaving a few scratches in the walls where it bounced off and landed in front of three meager crewmen. A few of them seemed startled at first, before curiosity kicked in. One of the pirates decided to sidle closer and poke Damnerung a few times. The sword was currently dormant, and so nothing interesting happened. It was as if some treasure simply found its way there. Lady Fortuna smiled upon them gravely.

Still wrapped in cloth, the body hurled through the atmosphere from somewhere unseen. A little further from its master, the corpse of Locke Jax landed upon the stoney slope of The Fortress Tortoisa with a loud thump. Several points of the bandages were knicked and torn apart as the body slid down the mountainside towards the watery depth. It would now be revealed that the bandages covering Locke were of a magical nature, keeping him detained until now.

Splash! His body became submerged before the collective conscience kicked in. Immediately the ghosts within him began to awaken all at once. His arms twitched and coiled back, his legs shook, his body convulsed madly before flailing off his bandages. Locke's mouth opened, but no bubbles surfaced from his bowels. His body began to float back to the surface, until his face peeked out from the water, staring in to the sky strangely, cocking his head to either side scouting the perimeter.

All the beautiful souls. A sea of life existed all around him, so stunning to the eyes that his collected thoughts turned to stendhal. Though these thoughts were all shared, and once re-accustomed to his undead state, Locke snapped out of his trance, and Damnerung's will took over. Locke's left pupil diluted so much that the entire eyeball turned black. Its focus turned to something at the top of the turtle's shell, where a small troop of souls were gathered and ripe for harvest. They seemed to be gathering around Damnerung's other half - the sword. How unsuspecting they may be, and all Locke needed to do was get close. One sharp look at the hilt was all that was needed to resurrect its power. Locke threw his arms out from the waters surface, clawing his way back up the mountainous turtle shell, testing his nails against stone. With unprecedented speed, the pale old pirate scaled the mountain, drawing himself closer and closer to a new feast.

Meanwhile within the fortress, there was now being held an appraisal of the artifact in question. The captain of the fortress looked on at the item with much curiosity, and dollar signs in his eyes. Many of his crew members were gathered around, shouting their ideas as to what it was. "Some sort o' mace," "A key to treasah!" "Arr be nuttin' but a bad omen."

Only one of them was right. It was a very bad omen.

[Tasuke]

Swallowing light dims amidst a voice of playful water and salted fresh air. Aki finds herself alone atop a comfortably sized stone as it peeked above the surface of the sea; what may as well be a protruding pebble where two could not hope to stand together with solid footing. Moist zephyrs move through her hair and garments while her chocolate stare scans the blankets of aqua in search of her foe. A near full circle of observation surfaces with a lack of company until she turns abaft and beholds a gorgeous landscape afar.

Its visage is remarkably similar to a tortoise. Upon its back looms a stone castle and other landmarks of human habitation pepper its woodlands. Chiaki smoothly turns to face it and ponders the implications. It would seem that she's in for a bit more than a streamlined beginning to her match and first she must ascertain the whereabouts of her partner in deadly dancing. This is her driving force to walk across the expanse separating herself from the enigmatic isle.

A full breath blossoms her tiny smile and optimism keeps her hopes for enjoyment from drowning. She sets her sandals upon the swirling water and struts atop it unhindered with an alluring swivel to her gait. Mayhap luck will weave a quick meeting with the other warrior. Only then can their contest commence.

[Wind]

Twenty eight wandering lights glowed in the eyes of Locke Jax. They grew larger with each step closer, until a wall of stone came between. Scaling it would be cracking open the crab shell, he need only open his mouth and dig in. The castle was a bowl that held his meal in place. By now Locke was spotted leaning over the walls and gazing in to the courtyard. His cold leer came to the fork in this analogy, Damnerung's hilt. What was strange is how no alarm rang off during Locke's infiltration, he might not understand it himself, but the dress code his host accustomed to fit right in with this crew of brigands.

Black steam poured from the pores Damnerung's hilt did not have. Dropped to the ground with a large clanking sound, the team of pirates formed a circle around to witness a metamorphosis. The artifact's true form flourished in three dimensional shadows, as it begun to hover and allow its blade to point downwards. The pure darkness seeped in to the ground, tainting it and spreading outwards.

"Tis a cursed item!" Captain Gregory was the second to correctly speculate. He and his crew backed away equally as fast as the dark pool grew. "Where's me squabby?! Over there now, remove tha' cursed item from the ground!" He ordered with directions from the tip of his sword. Nearly the entire crew turned their heads to his 'squabby.'

"Nay but it be cursed, cap'n!" The short crew mate was reluctant enough to attempt diplomacy.

"And ye be cursed to the brig fer' a year if ye continue this mutinous behavior." Diplomacy was a weak trait for many pirates. Many faced an ultimatum where death was always the second option. Little did they know, both choices here meant death.

The one known as 'squabby' took a brave breath and stepped in to the pool to tread its shallow shadows until reaching the artifact. Both hands firmly held the hilt as he attempted to draw forth Damnerung. but before he could gain his footing, something rooted him in place. A hand formed from the abyss to latch on to his ankle, drawing a shriek from the full grown man. He pivoted hoping to escape but fell face first. A shadowy face formed inches away from his own, almost kissing his ear. A matter of seconds passed before the crew mate was fully obscured from sight.

"Draw yer' weapons men! We'll send this cursed device back to Davey Jones' locker!" This time Gregory's orders felt little hesitance from the pirates. Each drew their own crudely made weapon, and began an attempt to cut off the many clawing hands that protruded from Damnerung's purgatory.

From above, Locke watched a futile effort He was not there just to observe. In a strange and calculated motion, Locke's arm reached out and drew his body with it so that he fell over the ledge. Lopsided and descending fast, his hand lead his trajectory towards someone oblivious. Another pirate's life would fade away in the briefest of moments. Feeling only a tap on his shoulder, the man wasn't given enough time to turn around before his spine cushioning the force of Locke's fall.

Captain Gregory and the Cutlass crew had stacked worries now. Their attacks hardly phased the shadow pool, and several took a notice to Locke's entry from behind. Soon their castle would play host to a more epic battle. For now, they simply needed to stay alive long enough to witness the encounter soon-to-be.

The body of Locke Jax lifted itself back up much like a wooden mannequin would with aide. His emotionless stare resumed, but with new focus. Something in the distance, outside of the walls. Several more spirits, lively ones like those stationed around him - but en mass. The aura emitted by this cluster of spirits was greater than that of Gregory's entire crew.

Caution saw fit that all stood still.

[Tasuke]

Ten minutes of walking diminishes a miniscule fraction of the distance Chiaki need traverse to touch dry land. This is chiefly because she has no urge to rush; the area is too beautiful not to admire. The large whirls of clouds and bright azure sky; an ocean glittering like blue sapphire; even circling seagulls cawing overhead. These work together to lull the ever-glancing innkeeper into a state of almost unmindful enchantment as she walked.

After many moments Chiaki settles upon sudsy sand shores nearby but unconnected to the turtlish landmass. She exchanged the seductive sway for a gentle side-to-side motion of her arms; her sandals leave wet imprints and mark the discipline of her close-footed stride. Her squinting stare attempts to inspect what appear to be fishing huts several yards in. They're unkept and their wood stained and rotted by the elements. But what betrays a sense of dereliction are the pair of grounded wooden boats she passes on the way to greenery. They're decked with fine poles and quality tackle that invite the hands of active fisherman.

Aki spots a leftward path toward her next goal: the colorful island itself. It's lined with lush bushes and drooping trees. Crashing water becomes less vocal the further in she goes but finds itself replaced by the buzzing and tweets of insects and birds. The serene beauty inspires her to grin broadly while admiring the scenery. Yet in the back of her mind is an unsettling tingling; the sense of stirring spirits from a currently undiscovered source. For now she's without sight of strangers; who knows what creatures skulked about waiting for a chance to pounce upon such a delectable damsel?

[Wind]

Like to a siren's song, Locke was lulled towards the impressionable soul. Torn between objectives, he found himself pressed up against the large oaken door. The spirit he witnessed drew slowly closer by the season. He was the creature ready to pounce, but his prey only stroked his apatite with the to and fro of her sway. Locke reached out to grasp parts of the wooden door, where his extended bony nails dug in and took chunks.

"Ye think yer' allowed leave now? Nay! None enter the fort o' Gregory Cutlass without kissin is' ring, and speaking tha oath. Alas you 'ont be kissin nuthin but tha anchor! Prepare yeselves for a well washin, maties!" The captain, in an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, raised his sword high in to the air. The crew became immediately aware, and prepared themselves by sneaking away in to various safe-spots high up in the walls. Upon turning back around, Locke would realize the magic Gregory possessed in his hand. His sword glowed an aerie blue, emitting the faintest echo across the sky and ocean.

The shore Chiaki tread was first to feel the ocean's response. As each settling tide became more unsettling. Her footprints were dragged in to the deep as the water climbed ashore. Each and every tide acted as such, growing in size and force when compared to the previous. The minutes Chiaki willed away grew fewer as she basked in nature's aesthetic. But she would be one of the first to notice what lurked on the horizon. From afar, the water rose up taller than the fortress' walls, ready to engulf the battlefield in chaos. The clock need only raise his extended arm a few more inches.

Locke was mildly aware of a danger looming, but did not seem too warned. His interests bounced from head to head, finally landing back on the opposing pirate captain. The essence of an ocean was trapped away within that sword, a powerful spirit - the kind Damnerung wished unto itself. under the direct orders of his master, Locke approached Gregory with ill intent reflected in each eye.

"To tha abyss with both of ye!" The famed captain called out, entering the keep and closing the door behind him.

The only one out in the open courtyard now was Locke, along with two corpses and the deathly sword. A touch of paranoia redirected his vision upwards to the darkly clouded skies. Before him was the upper jaw of a monstrous tsunami, threatening to engorge upon him. Firmly did the pale captain stand, reaching out to grasp the handle of Damnerung before the wave crashed down. Upon striking the fort's side, the trunami split in force excelling towards the shore. The upper jaw caved down in to the courtyard, following some foreseeable abrasions to Locke's clothes and body. In a short lapse of time, the whole courtyard twice over Locke's head was submerged, leaving him clinging to the hilt in a murky undertow.

"Let loose tha hatches! Wash 'em down tha turtle's back!" Gregory's orders were muffled to Locke's conscience, but his crew heard right. The fortress doors opened abruptly, forming a powerful current that pulled many barrels and one pirate corpse down the turtle's back. What a way to clean the castle up. Another minute passed, as the crew waited for the waters leave, before each of them opened their hatches to witness failure.

There stood the pale captain, stalwart and soaked, missing only his tricorn. Locke Jax was not amused by the tsunami, his face forever cold and lifeless. His gaze kept Gregory's heart pierced. The eternal hunger called from within, and Locke had no right to ignore. He released Damnerung and paced through the shadows without hindrance, scaring the captain deeper in to his hold. Few of the crew were willing to follow the echoing shrill, and none questioned its sudden silence.

Had she still a breath to draw after the waters wake, Chiaki was the only one left in this realm with the power to subdue Damnerung.

[Tasuke]

The innkeeper's uneventful stroll remains enthralling thanks to the spellbinding environment. A leftward glimpse at tall grass catches a green grasshopper in landing upon its bending and bouncing blade. Her steps progress while she's captivated by its moment of rest; then it bounds high into the air and flies away on fluttering wings.

That's when the songs stopped.

An unnatural hush befalls the seaside sanctuary. Quiet which calls Aki's curious attention to the fore and forces her stoppage. Random glances lace focused hearing as she attempts to decipher origins of silence. All that flits to her ears is a distant rolling; something alarmingly familiar but still indistinct.

Then the water roared.

She swallows a breath of shock at the torrential destroyer ahead. A wet fist which snapped and swallowed splintered trees. It's a pulverizing punch poised for her fragile figure that arrives in a briskly overtaking blow just after her right hand assumed overhanded hold of her dextral sword. She's baptized in saltwater moments later; surely nothing can withstand its crushing will to dump her lifeless body back into the ocean. It bathes the land devoid of mercy and one must dread what's become of Poseidon's prized princess.

Suspense is the reel drawing the tides back toward shore. The calming waves curtail and reveal a solitaire survivor in aftermath. Chiaki stands in unfettered posture and encircled in spherical splendor. A bluish bubble she'd erected to disperse the water's wrath upon her. It evaporates following a jovial pop and she kneels upon saturated earth while exhaling sweet relief prior to staring blankly downward. “That was a bit too close...”

She seizes a few seconds to recollect herself before rising once more. Her hand vises the dry hilt of her saving steel whilst she steps with wet, puddled claps. The creation of such a maritime miracle must be tied to her increasing awareness of excited spirits. The perceived agitation which increased with every footfall toward the ominous keep. Aki wonders if what awaits her there is truly her opponent or another thing entirely.

[Wind]

A cool wind swept what dew was leftover in the tsunami's aftermath. With the naked eye, nothing precise could be seen past five meter in the formed haze. So when captain Gregory Cutlass retreated from his sanctuary, nothing appeared as deceptive as it was. He walked with a limp around Damnerung's still stabbed blade. Some of his crew approached him cautiously due to the bloody wound to his abdomen and offering their help. The captain, with eyes widened as if to witness one of the seven natural wonders of the world, stared at his crew and spoke a few brief warnings.

"G... go on... flee... free... Run." The captain choked on his words. Blood cleansed the dirt from his beard originating from his lips. Still, Gregory stood tall as if nothing had happen.

"But cap'n! The fort, tis' arr home! To what cause do you have to... hnnn..." Without a chance to vocalize his mind, the pirate was struck down. Bewildered at the sword piercing his gut, and more so by the hand holding it. His eyesight led him up the arm that belonged to his own captain. Only in his dying moments did he realize the cold aura emanating from Gregory.

Moments passed before Locke exited the pirate keep sanctuary. His scimitar revealed fresh blood dripping from the tip and stained half way down the blade. His gaze ignored Gregory's scattered crew to focus on a greater cause. His feet followed this path set out for him, which would lead right back out the fortress and down the great Tortoisa's shell. Soon to follow was the seemingly possessed body of Gregory cutlass, sword still in hand.

A strange shade fell in Locke's path, to which the legendary sword soon followed. Releasing its control over the hold, Damnerung unsheathed itself and all the shadowy souls that sought escape from damnation. Pommel behind hilt, the sword eerily drifted in Locke's wake.

Two once famous pirate captains, working together for a treasure not glory nor fame.

And so the real fight would commence. Aki and her opponent now were in direct eyesight of one another, that is if they both could sense spirits as strongly as Damnerung could. The cadaver would appear as nothing more than a rogue shadow in the distance, growing more familiar by the second.

Though unplanned, Damnerung's first action against the great set of souls was a method of terror. In the tsunami's carnage, Chiaki wouldn't expect a corpse to land but inches away from her defensive position. Twas that of the pirate Squabby, whose every pore emitted a strange smoke. Locke's eye caught wind of the event, and decided there was no better an introduction

It was obvious that Squabby had died. His body was much disfigured by the tidal wave, and kept still in an odd pattern where his feet and shoulders met. But disregard the obvious, and Squabby would have risen right back up. As if no bones existed in his body, Squabby's torso raised first, as his limbs ushered akin to noodles. Now face to face with Chiaki, Squabby stood like a primordial human. He would then approach the young woman intently, stumbling when closest and attempting to catch his balance using her shoulderspan. Visually innocent, but behind what one could see with the eyes, this fellow was ready to grasp Chiaki with force unhindered by lively morals.

Half way down the turtle's shell, and through the thick fog Damnerung's eyesight never lost grip. A soul so beautiful and powerful to be reflected in the iris. Few chances were given to Damnerung to claim a spirit of this caliber. No harm was meant towards Chiaki's soul. One might consider Damnerung's intentions romantic beyond words, for those intentions meant an eternity together.

[Tasuke]

The sloshing steps of Kurosawa are not without an elevation in anxiety. That foreboding premonition expanded through her brain like a filling balloon; whatever was its cause could only be getting closer. Her eyes are wary of her surroundings and her ears are attentive to ambush. Her drying mouth and her increasingly jogging heart fills veins with new adrenaline. It makes her feel just a bit more limber and reactive; strong enough to overthrow any challenge thrown at her.

Many yards ahead she catches sight of a shadowy figure. A ghostly shade indiscernible in shape. It causes her to halt once more with right foot in lead. The hand clutching her oceanic Bakufu slowly pulls the slumbering blade from its bed before the THUD of landing mass ahead stops her draw and startles the already tense innkeeper. Her frazzled attention is enraptured by a living horror; a man of fresh injuries and vacant eyes as its body exudes gaseous wisps. Aki can only behold in wide-eyed wonder. It's indeed a creature of nightmares and is pulled up like a marionette to stand before her.

“...All right.” The strengthening words she speaks are only half-hearted; the paleness bleaching her flesh betrays her charade of fearlessness. Her stare becomes more fierce when it lumbers forth and causes her lips to glower in threatened disgust. Idleness of her left hand comes to a close and it's brought to overhandedly clasp the hilt of the sister sword. Only an inch of pulling is performed while the fiend stumbles ever close. Her eyes glaze and her expression shifts into something tranquil. Merely a few more feet separate them now.

Then it makes its move. A near-collapse seeking friendly shoulders for its ill-willing support.

But it will find hers to be coldly unsocial when she responds through the scintillating whispers of drawn steels. They're freed whilst she shuffles right with her left foot first and positions her weapons in tandem. Her right-handed sword moves forty-five degrees adjacent to her left shoulder and the other stays flatly level before her waist for the flaying to follow.

Chiaki swipes the Bakufu horizontally beside the man's throat. Its fang clips the carotid and carries through to loose a fountain of misting scarlet from a gruesome gash. Blood that speckles her cheek and garments as the frosty Tousha crescents right-to-left for the sinistral hamstrings. It slices cleanly with a wet snap that causes the creature to buckle upon the same leg. After it topples is when she steps in for the deathblow; a one-legged crouch of her left knee as the Bakufu is lifted and driven through its nuque. One stab that bites through spine and into hydrated earth beneath. The moisture affords a more damaging onslaught when the drinking blade erupts with water pressure; loud and gaseous blasting which decapitates the corpse with exhalations of peacefully rising steam.

Felling allows Aki to refocus upon the umber. Accomplished via rightward look over her shoulder toward earlier apparition whose whereabouts are unlikely static. Is the distracting slaughter means to off-guard? Initiation's gifting has been bestowed.

[Wind]

How would one decipher a killing blow when tested upon various entities. An example: would instant death come to a cockroach when decapitated, or squished under ones foot. Only the latter is a correct answer. These examples relate directly to the corpses under Damnerung's will.

Red stained and gored, Squabby's body did not cease movement. Acting in shambles opposing Chiaki's fluid grace, a force malevolent carried the body further upon her as she inserted her sword. No need for a former conscience that now rolled upon the beachside. Damnerung's play toy flung its arms in pendulum yearning to intertwine the blood of both who skirmished. Perhaps she would notice before turning her attention back to the umber vision, that her technique though executed true was not enough.

Not one, but three shadowy figures approached Chiaki at individual speeds. First to exude colour and detail would be the famous Gregory Cutlas of the Cutlass crew, wielding of course a cutlass of equal renown to which his name owes title to. Landing on his forearms after a brief slide down Tortoisa's back, the captain appeared at the eastern edge of Chiaki's peripheral vision, merely ten feet from melee range. Had her caution re-attuned, she would register various important aspects about Gregory. Blood trails revealed a deep diamond shaped wound to his solarplex, where a murk formed, laced, and diluted each speckle of blood excreted thereafter. The sword in his hand, famous as it was, equally shrouded in mysterious black. The captain rose back to his feet and greeted Chiaki sorrowfully, the glint in his eyes faded slowly as he mouthed a silent request.

"Kill... me."

Those who lost the battle of will, sometimes kept their minds long enough to witness their forced hands. It hollowed the noblest of saints, and humbled the fiercest brigands. A test of Chiaki's ability to handle the shackles of emotion. One of many trials to those capable of wielding Damnerung.

Gregory attacked with mixed force. Flanking her so that she must defend from two opposing angles. The headless ghoul maintained its mauling of Chiaki's legs and waist, leaving the upper half to a swords work. The captain's arm raised so that his sword pointed forward and began to lead with it. With what vigor he had left in his now frail body, Gregory attempted to pull the sword back from its violent trajectory. A true pirate never yielded or surrendered his blade, and so when he could not overpower the gheist, he was dragged down its path towards a young girl's still beating heart.