The eastern gate of the sandstone coliseum rattled and closed, its frame clacking upon the darkened granite floor. Cold shadows of cloud held in place, and dense air stagnated within the confines of the octagonal battlefield. Even with desolate stands, the rising tension of battle was a feeling which one combatant would never become accustomed to.

With large, reflective irises, Trey wearily observed the battleground which he stood upon. The first warrior was of average height, yet not entirely human in appearance. His face was somewhat narrow, yet with eyes wide and apart. His hair was coarse and unkempt -- barely long enough to cover his folded ears -- and led into a short mane which ran along his back. The rest of his body was hairless; his skin was dusky and rigid, with four greyish birthmarks crossing along his bared torso. Every part of his stature was exceptionally toned and well-refined, save for his forearms and calves, which bulged with inhuman musculature.

His right arm was raised in a gradual motion, and he glanced to inspect the few tools he carried. His wide wrists were the the only part of himself adorned with armour, encased by simple rimmed bracers. Stemming from them, his short palms each housed three oversized conical claws; bone white, over two inches wide and no less than twelve inches in length. Both pairs of natural weapons flexed naturally, almost rhythmically, in wait of the opponent who would eagerly seek to be gutted by them. It would be unfortunate for both parties, yet it was also their will. Humans were such irregular people.

Stepping out from his corner of the arena, LeeRoy looked around for a moment and saw a strangely proportioned humanoid. The man took a few steps closer to the center and raised both of his arms upwards, popping his shoulders and elbows in the process. Wordlessly he continued on an odd regiment of strange poses until every single part of his body had popped in one way or the other. After this he just sort of stood there, fiddling with the buttons on the side of his helmet until the faceplate tinted to a reflective silver tone. He preferred to hide his face when he was about to commit some heinous action.

Now that he was stretched out and ready to move around, LeeRoy reached over his shoulder and withdrew the Vacuum Lance from its magnetic holster. To his opponent, LeeRoy would look like a largely built man in a suit of armor that had jagged and cruel features. The helmet bore no face, it had no openings to show his expression. It was a cold plate of material between LeeRoy and the world. Now, in reality, the suit was featureless because LeeRoy prefers function over form. And this suit was designed to get the job done, he's not a warrior, he's a scientist. You wouldn't expect a brick mason to care about glass blowing, you would just expect him to make the forge.

"You there. Whatever species you are, you are unfortunately in the arena with me. I don't know whether you have the capacity to understand my manner of speech, or even my language. But I assure you, this shall be a negative experience for you." Raising the blade upwards he pointed it in the mole-ish being's general direction. For the second time he spoke to the strange creature. "I am LeeRoy Brightmane, last remaining of the Brightmane line, and an unacclaimed scientific mind. Whether or not you inform me of your name, and or, title is up to you. You make the first move, and we shall begin." With that, LeeRoy pressed the small button on the vacuum lance and air began to be sucked in through the pack on his back. Best to be prepared, one never knows how fast your opponent is in this strange universe.

The creature he was pitted against was nothing short of his expectations. It was a typical for these beings to encase themselves in metals and ceramics, often in the ill belief that it would prolong one's expiry; but in truth, it would merely prolong a fight between mortals. Such earthen defences were of negligible use against someone who was one with the Earth - and like the opponents before him, LeeRoy would not realise this until he was broken down to his bare fists.

'I don't know whether you have the capacity to understand my manner of speech, or even my language. But I assure you, this shall be a negative experience for you.' Behind his metallic mask, the foe sure had a lot of nerve to show.
"You don't need to tell me that." Trey growled, lowering his eyes and shaking his head. His voice was deep and airy, but held only a slight undertone of malice.
"I am Trey Aragon," was his formal response, despite mimicking LeeRoy's prose to an extent. "Last remaining Conea with some sense of sanity..." at one point Trey could say this with a laugh, but over the years he had almost come to believe it. "...That aside, I don't expect to be extinct any time soon. Let us be quick."

In direct contrast to his words, Trey's start was not a rushed approach, but one which was carefully assessed. His steps were slow, weighted and unjittering, as he moved but a few paces towards the arena's centre. His short feet were lined with claws of a much more reasonable size; they lightly scraped the ground with each step, carving almost effortlessly along the smooth granite floor.

Trey's sight was not the sharpest, but his innate senses noted the arena's sound architecture; the stone beneath him was rich, as were the columns of standstone within the octagonal arena. Flowing water trickled not too far below, with few hints of it being unnatural in occurrence. He did not bet on it, but it would be satisfying to be able to keep this landmark intact while disposing of his foe.

Likewise, he barely had to pass a thought to assess LeeRoy's status. The vibration of his own footsteps gave him a clear estimate as to his weight; if anything short of another Conea was suited up inside there, Trey could expect to out-speed it with ease. His hearing and touch both picked up on the withdrawn air, pinpointing its source at the opponent's back; until he knew what purpose it served, he assumed his best course of action was to observe further.

Finally Trey's concentration returned to his main focus, sensing deep into the earth beneath. Energy began to siphon within him, absorbing steadily as he maintained a connection with the ground. Each foot landed solidly before the next step was made, and soon he had drawn himself within forty yards of LeeRoy's position. His right claw remained held in front of his chest, while his left was kept at his side, braced for any stratagem the opponent may attempt to play on him.

If LeeRoy had the ability to read minds, which often he is glad that he cannot, he would have smiled at the notion that he was a mortal.

The being mocked his dialect, cute. Obviously it was capable of human speech, which is convenient. LeeRoy likes insulting the people that he fights. "Last remaining, huh? Boy, I might just terraform a planet and populate it with the 'last of their kinds' of a lot of species. I'd certainly have enough to populate an entire damned planet." Returning the mockery with a much more sour note. "It's like some guy with a big damned space ship just flies from planet to planet, dimension to dimension, and wipes out entire species except for one or two." Behind his mask his face was full of malice, the Voidman had been silent these past few weeks and he had nobody to spite, except for this new foe.

Admittedly, LeeRoy forgot why he was here on this particular planet. And he was in a wretched mood this afternoon.

Trey migrated closer to the center, and by proximity, LeeRoy. The vacuum on his back revved and roared as it inhaled more air for his weapon of choice. It had reached enough charge for one singular shot, which was perfect, generally he only needed three shots. "You know what? I'm just going to go ahead and rush you. The last two fights I had ended rather poorly for my physical well being."

Without a second thought, LeeRoy lowered his firearm and grabbed the handle with both hands, tucking it underneath his right shoulder. Pointing the blade forward, LeeRoy burst into a sprint towards Trey. This was just to bridge the gap, it might be a bit obvious that LeeRoy is itching to fight.

"Any other day, and I would assist you on that front." Trey agreed in jest, but shook his head all the same. It took a very particular sort individual to laugh about planet-scale genocide; the sort he had used to make grudges against, but no longer could spare the time to bother.

With fair warning given, the opponent switched weapons and broke into a sprint. Trey's walk stopped abruptly in turn, pausing with his left foot barely above the ground. LeeRoy was more agile than Trey had hoped, but not fast enough to phase him. Rather, his concerns were in his opponent's confidence to charge at him head on; unless he simply felt like chancing suicide, it seemed he had a lot of faith in that tin container he wore. Every instinctual urge pushed Trey to test that theory, but the fact was that he did not know himself how much the suit could withstand; with LeeRoy's weapons still outside of his vision, a bad guess could leave him at fatal disadvantage, and one which he would rather not risk. Indeed, at this point in time, Trey did not wish to engage LeeRoy so directly.

'Thirty yards...' Trey took a long breath, and his silver eyes narrowed. Each pace LeeRoy made signalled his vicinity within an inch of error.
'...Twenty-five...' His body raised higher, his muscles tensed, and his focus held solely on the flow of mana beneath him.
'...Now.'

With a grating roar, the Conea stamped in front with truly gargantuan strength, shaking the very foundations of the arena. A ten foot radius of granite cracked like glass, all but instants before the debris was thrown airborne in a surge of arcane energy.
At the centre of the commotion, an unrefined mass of sandstone emerged up from beneath Trey and beyond, laced with upward-pointing spikes and serrated edges. It reached ten feet high and wide -- and rippled towards LeeRoy at a threatening speed, hurling large granite shards as it shot up from beneath them. The wave would travel twenty yards from Trey in all, before tapering to a halt; LeeRoy would be caught in a nigh-unavoidable attack had be been too eager to approach, or otherwise be faced with a solid obstruction from his foe.

Trey stood low upon his end of the conjured wall, sensing for LeeRoy's response to his attack. The sharp surface was of little detriment to him, for he had already determined the areas to which he could step safely. His left leg was still holding his weight, but was apparently struggling to do so, for Trey's abilities did not come without repercussion. His muscles would recover quickly however, and hopefully before LeeRoy was able to reach him through the dust clouds and falling rocks.

A weak rumbling was felt in the heels of his metallic boots, ringing all the way up the armor. LeeRoy was familiar with magic, you tend to get used to it after a few hundred years of living. You notice things that nobody else does. Anyway, LeeRoy pulled his sword back and released his grip on it with his left hand. Keeping the blade relatively level while doing this, he reached up to the top of his right hand and pushed the forwardmost button. This button's effect would play out shortly.

The ground began to splinter and shake more violently, this being had quite the prowess over earth. LeeRoy's button activated to its fullest extent, and the twin trhusters on his back kicked into gear. Pushing him upwards into the air and above the threat of dangerous shards of earth striking him. Above the ground he migrated and allowed himself to drift over the spines of stone. "I'm impressed. Magic is such a strange thing, and I argue constantly that manipulation over earthy materials would be superior to all others. See, because it's the most concrete, and least floaty."

LeeRoy actually cracked a smile behind his visor, he realized that he just said floaty. While he himself was floating.

LeeRoy's jetpack held him aloft, above the ruined ground below. "Now, I see why they let you in here!" With a noticably sarcastic tone and inflection near the middle. "You've got some neat little tricks, moleman. Sorry, but I'm gonna go ahead and call you Moleman. I've forgotten your name."

Picking up on the irregular turbulence, Trey had no trouble gauging his foe's location through the ceasing igneous cacophony. LeeRoy's incessant mockeries were faintly heard, but no longer were they acknowledged; as far as Trey was concerned, he had yet to even meet the opponent before him, and he held no inclination to banter with a faceless construct.
Nonetheless, the foe had found a way to gain proximity, a less than desirable outcome. Had they dodged to either side of the wall, the objective of trapping his foe would have been an effortless procedure. An evasion into the air may not have been anticipated, but the terramancer was far from unprepared.

He made a short, yet sudden pace forwards, kicking off from his opposite leg. His body followed through like clockwork, devoid of faltering nor unnecessary motion. Upon landing, all four of his rightmost digits sank deep into the raised earth, directing his strength into the ground a second time.
Tremors were heard around the stadium once more, albeit of smaller scale to the last. In the wake of the dust, a thick, hollow 8-foot hemisphere of stone had formed in front of Trey, blocking off LeeRoy from his line of sight. Its outer was laced with spiky protrusions, no different to the rest of the wall he stood upon, and its open half left sufficient space to escape should the need arise.

Within his dome shelter, Trey's claw remained embedded into the ground; his stance held low and motionless, and both eyes were rested shut. As prodigious as his abilities were on land, he required a touch more refinement to take someone out of the sky.

Admittedly, the dome was unsurprising. No seriously, it's like, the smartest thing to do when you're capable of raising barriers around yourself. Round bodies displace force more evenly than any other shape.

Though, trapping one's self in an earthen barrier has one drawback.

You're not going anywhere quickly.

Sliding his lance into its holster once more, locking the button down so he doesn't blow a hole in the holster and subsequently his jetpack. Withdrawn from a pocket on his waist was a detonator, with four buttons that are color coded. This detonator- to anyone who has faced LeeRoy before- is all too familiar and annoying. It would be, except, LeeRoy remembers that he forgot to reload his forearm compartments. "Shit. I could have beaten him right now, had it not slipped my mind. No matter."

LeeRoy placed the detonator in his pocket and withdrew from his waist, the ZUB15 Semi-Automatic Air Pistol. This wouldn't be strong enough to kill him through the dome, and LeeRoy knew this, but he was going to do something to get him out of that hole.

Aiming down the sights, he fired off three shots into the dome. These air bullets are strong enough to sublimate lead and punch holes in plate armor. The earthen dome will do little to defend against it, but the bullets won't be powerful enough after the innitial strike to cause any injury to Trey.

Might make the inside of the dome smell funny though, so there's that.

Three successive impacts ruptured the spherical dome, exposing the grounded Conea within LeeRoy's sights. Given the spineless suit he was wearing, it came as some surprise that the opponent had not penetrated it with explosives, but never had Trey found regret in over-anticipation. Regardless the outcome had been desirable, for the dome had served its purpose of biding time.

With his Terra Stance now engaged, Trey had harnessed a stable link with the Earth's mana. In this state, he had enabled himself to alter the battleground exactly as he wanted it; however, none of these efforts appeared to be spent on further protection from LeeRoy's inevitable ranged barrage, or even a counter-attack. Rather, sounds of gravel and gushing streams were heard faintly beneath the surface -- shifting towards the arena centre, for those with a close ear -- but no changes were to be seen from above.

On reaction, Trey's freed claw struck out amongst the dome's falling rubble, and free-flowing mana sept from its points. Two large shards of earth slunk over his wrist as if they were clay, forming a weighty shield at his forearm. With LeeRoy's prior demonstration, his replacement defence would fall short of soaking a repeat attack, but he paid no mind to bolster it any further.

"Take another shot." Trey uttered through twelve bared premolars, glaring upwards at the enemy. A grainy aura encircled his form, and his skin appeared to shimmer like metal. As stout and motionless as stone itself, he boldly awaited how LeeRoy would answer to his gambit.