Information
Time: 4:44PM
Location: Wisconsin
Date August, 29th.
Weather: Slightly humid and clear skies
Temperature: 70°F[/align]

Posting format:
After both fighters have posted, the initial poster will be allowed to make the first strike in their second post.

Format of the fight:
A battle shall end only when one or both fighters lives have expired; however, if their fight last longer than need be their bout will continue whilst everyone else progresses to round two. This way both fighters may play out their feud without seriously inhibiting the tournament’s progression.

Rules:

• Players must be at either side of the road.
• There's no field limit.
• Everything can be manipulated and/or destructible.
• You can not attack in your initial post
• Layout is here
• You are disallowed to edit your post without permission from Mobius and authorized personnel. Once your opponent has posted, the previous post YOU make shall remain untouched unless authorized. I will immediately disqualify you if you edit post after your opponent post (with some exceptions)

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Flavor Text[/SIZE]

Enter a farm: broken and abandoned, it teetered upon the edge of Wisconsin in rusted red coating. An unassuming fixture forever frozen in a tableau of glistening chartreuse, and infinite expanse rich with naught beyond the scenery offered by wheat fields and green pastures. Picturesque if not for a loose aggregate of dilapidated machinery crumbling beneath the weight of age and rainfall, once proud tools of economic progress they have since then been relegated to a sideshow existence. Added to this graveyard of motionless machinery on the west, a barn, while traditional in its dimensions and appearance, elemental influence has reduced its lustrous red coat to a dull hue. Barn doors no longer stood as protectors of the overgrown shed, but as remnants of savage vandalism, leaving them torn and divorced from their charge exposing its hay filled insides. A farmhouse was the final attraction, complete with broken windows and worn surface, an echo of the decay that surrounded it.

It was a simplistic arena, but more than adequate for a wise fighter who knew how to exploit his/her environment. Humble terrain provided each warrior with a plethora of tactics to be implemented at leisure. Whether it was to simply charge recklessly into battle without fear of compromised equilibrium, thanks to dry terrain, or to hide behind one of many rotting tractors in preparation for an ambush. To each his own appeared to be a major focus of this bland battlefield as the opportunities it offered suggested. Malleability to situational variables was another key essence it gave to both fighters.

Poised at the forefront of a dirt road ambiguous in its length, they stood as one of few markers for a site that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. An unlucky victim of poor location attracting only monthly visits from whatever greyhound bus happen to be passing by or even rarer, a drifter. Even then it was a rarity for anyone outside of those few spectators who knew where to look to even acknowledge its presence. Though an unwise place to live, it was ideal for a fated battle set to take place shortly. Two contestants entered, but only one would emerge whilst the other found them self cast into the maw of oblivion.

Choice of transportation was optional, be it by boat, plane, or some metaphysical form of travel, conceived through supernatural means. Drawn by bravery, valor, or something else entirely, it was here they flocked for a prize to be announced only at the tournament’s end. Until such a time came blood sport was the central premise of this game as implied by its purpose and overall scheme. Of course why anyone would want to take up this challenge and traverse the globe simply to fight was another story. The reward for survival this round, however; would be little more than satisfaction one received from tearing asunder their unworthy foe. They would manifest their courage on an elongated path tar from one horizon to the next, cutting a black scar between the barn and limitless wheat. ~Credit to Doll Maker - 2007 Tournament preliminaries

Clarence took his time to marvel at the opportunity stretching infinitely before his eyes. Long stalks of yellow grain swaying in waves across a windswept plain. The afternoon soon casting amber light down upon the world; allowing his bulky black armor to stand in stark contrast with everything around him. The soft, inviting colors of this world also stood in contrast with the dull rust-covered vehicles and the blackened rot of abandoned barns. Yet despite this contrasted scenery all the thoughts in Clarence's mind ended with an angry wave of red flames spreading outwards. Feeding his powers and, in turn, his powers expanding his knowledge of the laws of nature. The death of this field, this State, and all the lives within it paving the path for his own ultimate ascension.

Clarence understood why so many people call him insane in their final moments. Having arrived in this place a few days ago by foot to explore Clarence had found an ideal place to perform his experiments. This abandoned farm was noticed by no one, had access to tons of flammable material, and was in terms of food fully self-sufficient. His roaming across the fields saw him meander from the western side of the road to the east. He had spent the night within a silo that was handling the depravities of aging disgracefully. Now, here below the afternoon sun on his second day as he came up to the eastern side of the roadway, he began to feel a certain unease. Then came the sounds – the rapid fluttering of a bird's wings, the crunch of wheat stalks underfoot, the barking of a stray mutt. Someone else dared to invade territory he intended to claim for himself one day.

Suspended safely within the chill air of his own cryogenic armor Clarence had little recourse but to return to the eastern side of the road. He knew not who approached but in the end such details would prove trivial. Clarence had searched for a long time to find a place in which to safely pursue greater understanding of his powers. Those whom he was about to engage in battle were also merely research samples in his pursuit of his penultimate state of existence. Taking both of his Chrono Staves in hand, held out to his sides, the ever-present embers flowing around his body in tune with the wind began to intensify. Each breath would dim the flames – each exhale intensifying them. In this way Clarence awaited his enemy on the battlefield. One way or another; his future in this world would begin here.

Bow stave in hand, the hunter lurked. It would be best to just gloss over why he was here, because he wasn’t even sure himself. Fight a man who wields death or something, that was the call to arms. Thomas sighed sarcastically, he could clearly see the man about three hundred feet down stood on the road, from his position in a low crouch just to the left of the west side of the road in this little farm. He was hiding in a patch of wheat, well concealed to a point. Considering most of his quarry had unearthly ways of detecting him wherever he hid, he wasn’t too optimistic about maintaining stealth for any length of time. Yet who knew, perhaps this time he’d get lucky.

The archer was clothed in a gambeson of hide of dark colouration, and his black masked kettle helmet was similarly dark, which wasn’t necessarily the best camouflage in a wheat field. He’d had to cut a small area to lurk in with the sword at his hip, working quickly while the armoured man was unaware.

Missing introductions seemed a little rude, but Thomas recognised needs must, best to just end it quickly before he had to worry about being killed by some magic he couldn’t fight fairly. He drew one of thirty arrows from the quiver at his back, watching it transform into a demonically wizened shatterhead, and nocked it to his bow, slowly drawing back the string. He crouched in that position, drawing power into the weapon, watching.

Clarence's breathing continued unabated as he gazed out into the almost endless stalks and saw... nothing. No noise save for animals and creaky old machinery. No smells discernible through a helmet – no ripples in the field to betray the path of an approaching enemy. Just gradually growing shadows on a warm and pleasant afternoon in the plains. Despite himself Clarence found a smirk growing upon his lips at the possibility that he might have been wrong about an enemy being present at all. But then experience often told him to always expect an enemy around virtually every corner. A patently paranoid way to live; certainly, but given he was still alive and his enemies were not he saw no reason to change things up now. Besides – for this land to ever be truly useful to him Clarence would need to tame these wild fields at some point. Thus; with one deep breath he extended his pyrokinetic powers and began to manipulate his Ember Aura.

In the space of time it took for him to exhale that same breath the embers grew in intensity to become the sparks of a series of flames. Four jets of ardent crimson flames lanced out into the fields surrounding him on both sides of the road. Each jet guided by the crown of a staff they would set the fields ablaze in mere moments. Already Clarence was stepping backwards into this maelstrom of his own creation as he had no need to fear it. The embers from the nearby flames were being drawn into his own aura – already beginning to intensify his flames further as more of the field was consumed. He back stepped briskly, his eyes scanning te road and the nearby field even as his path lead him back towards the northeast section of the farm fields.

Clarence was already fanning the intensity of his flames still further. The more the field burned the more embers he could draw in and the more effective his aura would become. Already the temperature around his own body burned hot enough to set ablaze any of the grain stalks he stood near – and he showed no interest in slowing down the pace of his heat build up as one of his energy crystals began to crack slightly. Meanwhile the flames expanded in waves the fields – casting everything in an orange light underneath a sky blackened by dust.

An arrow flying at 3400 meters per second through the air is a rather dangerous thing. The only thing that might make it more dangerous, was if one were to spew fire everywhere and cause smoke and dust to cloud their surroundings. Because an arrow you have no hope of even seeing is a very, very, dangerous thing.

The twang of his bowstring was exceedingly loud, but it would serve as no warning to the firemancer, because this arrow was flying far faster than the speed of sound. In fact, it would take the arrow 0.03 seconds to cover the three hundred feet separating them, and Thomas could see his enemy clearly through smoke, fire, and whatever other impediments he sought to set against him due to his demon sight. He’d aimed dead centre, having no reason to account for the man’s movements due to the speed of his projectile, so the arrow would slam into his foe’s chest from a little off to the left.

Forged in hellfire themselves, Thomas’ arrows were resilient to the heat and fire around them as much as they were resistant to any outside magic. But frankly, the likelihood of his foe having the capacity to even recognise he was about to be shot was pretty negligible. The only likely consequence was his arrow impacting the chest armour of the fire user, testing its durability against the head of his arrow. However, the man’s problems were not to end there, as the arrow was a shatterhead. Upon impact, it would explode, releasing the force of point blank buckshot from a shotgun directly into the man’s chest, along with spewing copious amounts of demonic blood with an acidic quality into the wound. If that were to happen, his fate was already sealed.

Arrows Remaining: 29

Clarence could not have been less surprised at the ambush even if he'd seen it coming with hours to prepare. The arrow flew straight and true with Clarence himself left with a mere fraction of a second to respond. In that fraction of a second; however, subtle and crucial factors began moving. First was of course the arrow whose path remained true. Second, however, was the angry plasma surge of Clarence's Ember Aura which hammered the intruding arrow with several sequential bolts of plasma. Third, however, was the slow thawing of time itself at the moment the arrow struck his right shoulder as Clarence activated his Time Alter – Red Menace.

As time once measured in milliseconds now descended into a flow of mere nanoseconds as Clarence took stock of his situation. His opponent's arrow had burst into a fair approximation of buckshot just prior to impact – and Clarence's own Ember Aura was already pelting it with several plasma bolts as intended. To this Clarence needed only to add his own Subversion Field – appropriating the heat around him and rapidly freezing the air near the point of impact. That included his own plasma bolts, which in the freezing air would become rapidly cooling air breaks hitching a ride on the arrow fragments on their way to impact his shoulder. Time still flowing nanosecond by nanosecond Clarence focused on facilitating as rapid of a freeze in the area near his shoulder as he could effect.

But even within Time Alter the arrow still came onwards, fractured, and eventually – hit. But the shoulder armor withstood the hit – pitted and scarred, but intact thanks to its tungsten construction. Already he could feel the force behind the arrow's energy trying to knock him off his feet despite the effects of Time Alter. Even if he could somehow avoid that kickback from the arrow's impact Clarence was in no mood to do so. As the heat around him was being absorbed the smoke began to clear and Clarence could see his enemy. The velocity of his arrow parting what little grain remained to conceal him.

As such Clarence immediately switched tacks to Time Alter – Final Black Flash. Now time once again proceeded micro-by-microsecond... only this time in reverse. It was Clarence himself speeding up his internal clock. A certainly painful experience, but a necessary one as the additional time relative to the outside world allowed him to gather up a deluge of Arctic Flames and intensify them. He pushed his ability to its limits to gather and direct said deluge of Arctic Flame at his opponent. Under the effect of Final Black Flash – this counter-attack would be launched at speeds in excess of a speeding bullet train the moment Time Alter came to an end. Which it did immediately thereafter.

Clarence would suffer a bruising hit to his shoulder and get knocked off his feet and blown back and additional meter or so thanks to the side effects of Final Black Flash. But in kind – Clarence was able to strike back in the same few seconds with his own torrent of Arctic Flames that rapidly froze everything it touched thanks to its below absolute zero temperature. And that wave of ice was heading straight for Thomas.

Ruling

• Retaliation does not state any passive Fast Reaction Time capabilities in his profile sheet. There's more.
• Retaliation does not have the ability to see through the very concealment he created unlike Thomas.
• Retaliation's own smoke screen would render the timing of his activation(s) proper for any abilities outside of Ember Aura and the autodefensive capabilities of Subversion field incorrect. He will not be able to see the projectile or attack coming to compensate and initiate the freeze plasma.
• The activation of Time Alter and the freezing aspect of the Subversion Field cannot be activated in time to deal with the arrow because of the speed. This coupled with the lack of FRT means neither of the two can be initiated in time to meet the oncoming threat; however, Retaliation possesses extrasensory within his subversion field when an object or person penetrates it allows his attack to resolve.
• The plasma bolt's freezing ability upon the arrow, then, does not activate. The plasma bolt's default state, however, does as part of Retaliation's autodefensive capabilities of the Ember Aura and Subversion Field stated by Junction in his post.
• The autodefensive capabilities of the field was present and activated once any energy expanded by Retaliation is accomplished (stated by his profile sheet). Thus, with ember field and Subversion Field, the plasma bolts, mentioned by the author, are activated proper and strikes the arrows.
• The arrows have no specified capabilities outside of their enhancements initiated by Thomas. That means they do not possess any characteristics outside of being arrows: meaning, they default.
• We can only assume because the mention of head or tip is related to the arrows that they must possess a stone or metal head.
• The resistance stated by the arrows only affect "Magic" based "interference" as parlance of Melon's profile sheet. Retaliation's powers only "appear" like magic because of Spellwarp, but are not as according to his profile sheet.
• There is a strong possibilities the arrows will NOT make it to Retaliation in time for their effect. The temperature of the plasma bolt striking and intercepting the projectile is rated at 5000 Celsius. We can deduce that such a plasma "bolt" is electrical by nature as being a bolt itself meaning it will default (the bolt's speed). We do not know the arrow's characteristics whether it's made of wood, metal, or something synthetic does it is impossible to determine the fate of such an arrow upon contact. We could extrapolate the most arrows are wooden or thought to be wooden, and that the head may be made out of a metal.
• At 5000c vs a bolt of plasma hitting an object we can only surmise the temperature explodes the arrow or ignites it which deteriorates its properties; however, because it is moving at an immense speed it is possible for it to hit Retaliation perhaps as a soften mass of melted metal or explosive rock.
• The arrow, being unspecified and attacked by plasma bolts, have an even greater chance NOT penetrating armor (made of tungsten) not for any other reason but because we do not know the properties of the arrow in question. An argument may come from the fact that the speed allows whatever passes through to become heated enough to melt straight into tungsten (3,400+ Celsius melting point), but because the arrow can be made of wood and its tip of some metal an argument is made that the arrow explodes and fragmented onto Retaliation. This would reduce the amount of kinetic potential it would have, though its speed would still be unchallenged.
• From what we can determine the arrow's actual traveling time within Retaliation's field is 0.000896 seconds.

Verdict The speed in which the arrow is moving compared to Retaliation would allow the arrow the chance to hit the chest (he cannot realign in time); however, what is potentially HITTING the chest may not be the arrow launched at Retaliation but a distorted or destroyed one. Thus, due to the defenses of Retaliation, and lack of characteristics of the arrow, Retaliation is still in this fight properly. The armor takes the majority of whatever remains of the arrow. The Infernal Shatter-head's ability cannot resolved if the actual projectile is destroyed (since it was suppose to buckshot before contact). Most of the kinetic transference of the arrow is in the shaft which, because we do not know what it is made of, is destroyed by the bolt rendering the debris left powerful, but still fast enough, to hit the armor. The attack from Junction resolves regardless.

Melon you may reply when ready.

Addendum from the disputes

• Melonhead admitted to metagaming(1) by not finding the relevant information of his opponent.
• Melonhead's arrows default to Broad-Head(2) arrow types made out of untempered/unharden iron.
• Because of two violations: Thomas' arrows will suffer the damage of Retaliation's plasma bolts being 5000c vs 1538c/2862c(Melting point/boiling point) of iron reducing its effectiveness and mass upon impact. This works true for the density of Tungsten aiding in the defense of a deformed or partly destroyed arrow-head.
• The speed of the arrow CANNOT be ignored. Thomas' opponent will still suffer damage.
• Retaliation still suffers damage from knockback to the chest and extensive damage from the impact due to the speed
• Retaliation, as now determined due to the nature of Thomas' shatter head, must deal with the acid and blast upon impact shatterhead. This is part of the damage he is taking.
• We do not know if the reduction of the arrow (being destroyed by the bolt) is proportionate to the acid. Since the explosion in the profile sheet is part of the fragmenting of both metal and acid we can only assume it, too, is part of the damage reduction.

Announcement - Melonhead forfieted his fight with Junction. Junction proceeds to the next round.

Verdict Junction advances.

In a world where judges believe it's impossible to guess or estimate the nature of armour by eyesight alone, those same judges accuse you of metagaming for wanting to know if your opponent is wearing a skintight suit or medieval plate armour!

Prepare yourselves for the wonders of TZDL! Where everything is metagaming because we don't understand basic concepts like estimation and experience! It was a riveting experience, and I thank you all!

Good night!