[IC] [Ranked] Four Way: Convergence of Power

[Rilla]

Pristine white walls lined the redesigned 'viewing area', as purified multiversal air - shipped in from the mines of Orthig, the gigantic third 'sun' of the Ghruth giga-multiverse - cycled throughout the room. The slight tapping of a cane broke the mundane silence, before a man in a very expensive looking human suit appeared behind a chair at he head of the table.

"Tabitha, make sure everything is running smoothly - our guests should be here soon. They, after all, wanted this to happen," the man said in a smooth voice that wouldn't be out of place in any popular movie. In fact, rumor was that the man had actually starred in several under various alias.

"Yes sir, Liaison," came the reply from the lobby manager, having replaced the old one - Charlotte Fleir. How was Charlotte, he wondered? Last he heard, she had been placed back in time, thanks to a brokered deal, into the body of a woman with a similar name, working for a famous professional wrestling company, WWE. He'd have to go see her sometime.

Liaison walked around the rather long table, checking the tablets and monitors that lined the room.

The last time he was here, he entertained several guests in a fashion not to different from the way he was about too. That time, they'd all been placing bets on various competitors. This time, it was purely militarial, as well as speculative. They'd come to watch and gather information on the budding multiverse.

One Liaison already cultivated contacts in.

"Sir, everything is working fine - and the first guests should be arriving shortly. Our systems are already picking up highly powerful magic and technological instruments that facilitate entry here." Her voice was nervous; why wouldn't it be? The place was about to be the gathering spot of some of the various multiverses most powerful men, women, and creatures.

"Thank you, Tabitha." Liaison said, as he came back to the head of the table.

Shortly after, a elegant looking woman appeared three seats down to his right.

Shangrul Xumi, the Presidentess of the highly technological society that ran Ghruth and other associated hyper galaxies.

"Mi'Lady." Liaison spoke, looking at her.

"Sir," she replied, a slightly American French accent to her voice, not surprising as she was very fond of that particular region of the microscopic world known as Earth. Despite her petite size, the woman was a monster with her planets various guns and other assorted weaponry. Plus, she was suspected of being a high level techno-path and had once attempted to hack into the Lobby.

She succeeded.

That's how Liaison found her and help cultivate her rise from grunt to Presidentess. Another contact. He was surprised she came, what interest would she have in this budding world? Of course it had potential to rival a giga-multiverse, but that was wholly dependent on the participants therein. He hadn't seen one in a long time. Ghruth only had three multiverses under its belt, and one of only ten in known existence.

Perhaps there was some merit to the rumor that this universe had the potential to become the first gigaverse, a gathering of giga-multiverses large enough that within themselves have hyper-multiverses(larger than normal multiverses by two-three times), multiverses, universes, galaxies, and solar systems.

Interesting.

[Skallagrim]

Faded and forgotten stars twinkle in the hazy skies of a planet long considered dead. Dotted across the landscape jut castles, towers and structures; some are over grown with twisted trees. Tall, pale grasses glow eerily in the darkness.

“Liaison has made contact with our farthest outposts.”Rasped a tall women, her gaze upon the myriad of stars overhead.

“Liaison?”

“Apparently he is hosting one of his ‘games’ again.”

“I see. Do you wish the Dreamers to be present Lady?”

“I do. It is better to keep an eye on those who may one day pose threats to the Dreamers.”

“As you wish. I shall ride to this arena and observe those in and out of the games.”

***

The Dreamer known as Skallagrim rode through the whorls of time and space. The large, skeletal destrier, galloping hard along the dark rising foam of reality sensed where its rider wished to go. Following a descending pathway to a small point of light both far and near, present and past, a singularity where the mechanisms of the multiverse seemed to suspend themselves.

Approaching he thrummed his energies in a tremendous wave, propagating the subtle dark energies surrounding him in a very discernable manner announcing his presence. When dealing with entities to whom the destruction of a planet was naught but an exercise, a subtle warning of approach was always a tactful thing. It stopped many misunderstandings, telling the host that largess and safety were expected at the hosts table.

Reaching the manicured lawns, the skeletal horse, awash in pale lavender landed with grace and continued to trot forward until just before an ornate staircase its rider slipped down.

***

Billowing black cloak trailed behind the skeletal being as he pushed through the crowd of fighters and viewers. There were the usual murmurs of incredulity and fear; others sought to get closer to the Dreamer for their own nefarious reasons. Long have the Dreamers been counted among the most enduring legends in the multiverses. Where they tread, many caught fleeting images in moments of crisis, only to distrust their own sightings. The Dreamers, to some angels and deamons, recorded in texts as destroyers of worlds and saviors. To beings of power they are counted as equals.

The arena had changed. It was different. Something that based upon a consultation with other Dreamers should have been expected. Liaison was arrogant and a showman. It would be stain on his memory to use a décor that screamed last year.

Reaching the center of the hall, the skeletal being turned its attention towards the staircase leading to the private boxes and offices of this endeavor. Before he moved further, a scantily clad blue-skinned feline woman of remarkable beauty approached him.

“Master Skallagrim? Forgive me I am never sure when I see a Xindhi. I can only differentiate you from the armors and clothing your kind wears.”

“I am he.”

“Ah yes.” She bowed slightly, “I am Fe’raalah. I am to be your guide and concierge while here. May I get you something?”

“Concierge?”

“Yes. May I get you something?”

“No. You may lead me to Liaison so that I may record the participants for the Dreamers to observe and understand.”

[MelonHead]

Azakanealina’Kaelin the Sculptor, exalted member of the Ascended, creator of the Void, Antire, Fintar and countless other masterpieces, floated serenely into the pristine white ‘Viewing Area’. His stone-sculpted body flexed all four arms and his gravely handsome face twisted into scorn as he viewed the Dreamer who had arrived before him. His eyes glowed blue, not the cool blue of water however, but that of intense heat. He gathered himself, his demeanour changing swiftly to one of passivity, complimented by an air of pride that seemed to emanate from him in near nauseating waves. He ignored any staff attempts at conversing with him, showing his disdain for those beneath him with every moment within the Liason’s domain. However, his was not the petty disdain of a spoilt noble, not quite, it was more the complete lack of empathy one might find in an ordinary human regarding a single ant.

Perhaps that was being generous, Kaelin cared less for those beneath him than a human would care for a dust mite.

He floated towards the Liason and the Dreamer before they could greet one another, interjecting in the scornful way those assured of their power often do.

“Liason, the Ascended send their regards.” His voice was deep and seemed to reverberate around the room, one of many small acts of narcissism on Kaelin’s part. If he had the emotional range, his lips may have upturned at this lie. “I, Azakanealina’Kaelin, represent them in these proceedings, so for your sake I hope they do not disappoint.”

He looked past Skallagrim as if he were not present, refusing to acknowledge the presence of the Dreamer immediately, showing how far above him he believed himself to be.

“Oh, Dreamer, come to collect more bones for your mausoleum?” He said finally, as if suddenly noticing him. “You always were the good little courier.” He turned from him smugly, allowing them whatever petty conversation they deemed appropriate, though his pride would not prevent him from listening in.

[Rilla]

His chat with Shangrul was abruptly cut short when Liaison sensed the tell-tale energies of the elusive Dreamers in the Lobby. "I wonder which has arrived as a liaison," he chuckled, thinking he was clever, "for the Queen of Dreamers." He didn't have to wait long to find out, as the distinct signs of the aura alluded to one man, Skallagrim the Cughtagh.

It was little wonder that the records of all history, and almost perfect scouts, were decidedly going to be present at the proceedings, after all, they had been among the first to come up with the idea to host this. It wasn't Skallagrim himself, but an ambitious Xindi named Futhrim. He had to be upset that Skallagrim was chosen for the task of watching the proceedings. A small chuckle left Liaison's lips before he bowed respectfully to the Presidentess, and turned.

The room was slowly filling up, with some notable names but very few were as interesting as the Cughtagh himself. Yet, the man hadn't entered the room yet, and thus, wasn't as imperative to his attention as the Spirit Beast King, Rosuto. The man was regarded as a legend in many circles, and the only man here that irked Liaison.

"Liaison," Rosuto said, as he looked up from the futuristic viewing monitor he was seated before.

"King," Liaison replied without returning the look.

"When will you finally accept an animal?"

"When you finally love your son... s."

He could feel the sneer Rosuto gave him, such was Rosuto's disdain for both of his sons. He couldn't blame him for one, the one who hadn't revealed his name since birth, and had become quite the troublemaker. Nasty abilities.

Before Rosuto could form a reply, Liaison's head tilted towards the door where the feline-esque woman, Fe'raalah, a relatively new hire, led in and introduced, Skallagrim the Cughtagh. "Ahh, welcome bac..."

The Sculptor had arrived, and brought with him the type of narcissism and arrogance that had put him at odds with the Dreamers. "And I send them my own. Surely they'll finally open up to working with me after this display. Mutually beneficial and all." Liaison replied, before letting his eyes dart to Skallagrim.

Taking a step back, he eyed Shangrul, who'd already hacked into the Lobby and was looking at a holographic, 3D version of the lobby on one screen, and watching an old cartoon; one he recognized as 'Teen Titans'. Humorous.

His eyes turned to Rosuto, who was eyeing the Cughtagh. He'd mentioned before that Skallagrim's spirit was that of a Red-Tailed Hawk named Nattfari, but much like Liaison, the Dreamer's didn't much interact with the world, so they hadn't been united. Those same eyes turned to Kaelin, the newly arrived. What was Rosuto thinking...

[Skallagrim]

Striding behind his concierge into the opulent viewing area that Liaison always provided, Skallagrim noted the new energy signatures of some of those in the room. One niggled at his consciousness, a brief moment where he released a wave of energy that blanketed the room. Energy where he began cataloguing and storing all the details he could amass.

Following the feline girl with barely a conscious thought as a million upon million bits of information from the room was being assessed and placed in the vault of the Dreamers. When the girl stopped, so did the skeletal being behind her. The whorls of amethyst energies radiating from the eye sockets brightening into a nimbus that drifted around the grinning skull. It was this radiation of seidhr that revealed more about the Dreamer than had been revealed before. The skull while human like was a bit more elongated, and the facial structure was not quite human. Something that Liaison and those able to discern the subtle details would surely note.

Beginning the ritual of welcome, Liaison was starting his spiel, and of course the Cughtagh was going to respond in kind, he had begun forming the gift the Dreaming Queen had staked him to provide Liaison. A fragmented history of a small pocket universe, where the most fundamental laws of the multiverse, ran contrary to expectations. When the intrusion of arrogance from one of the species known as the Ascended.

There was something about this species that would bear further observation and possibly extending back to the origins of their species to understand their evolution. The insult was not lost on the Cughtagh, who framed the words, parsed their meaning and played them back to the host he had made contact with. Sharing the experience amongst them the moment it had happened.

“I am sorry . . . Azakanealina’Kaelin? We seemed to have missed categorizing your species amongst those advanced enough to have been invited here. We shall review the dreaming records and see when you managed to cross the threshold.”

Turning back to Liaison, Skallagrim bowed slightly, extending a mailed hand. Seated in his palm rest a fragment of the dreaming records. A swirling dark miasma that held the entire history of a pocket universe. “Liaison, the Dreaming Queen Scathach, extends her grace and offers you information on the pocket universe Ha’aral Dur. I believe the intricacies of this universe will intrigue you.”

[MelonHead]

“Don’t worry Dreamer; we Ascended have been watching your race’s clumsy steps through our universes for some time, even if your people were incapable of discerning our presence.” Kaelin left that remark behind him as he turned away, though his cold demeanour was certainly a front for seething anger underneath. Bastard Dreamer, he would relish the day his creation tore the life-force from its skeletal body. He almost wished he could do it himself… but such things were banned among the Ascended, only one’s own sentient creations may be destroyed, unless they pose some greater threat to the Collective.

He allowed the two individuals to converse and complete whatever pleasantries they had for each other, marvelling at the fact that the prelude to such an important event was to be filled with such meaningless chatter. He sighed inwardly, Politics could be ever so dull, he never should have agreed to represent the other Ascended at this pointless affair.

[Rilla]

"Ladies, gentlemen, and other unmentionable gender identities, you'll have to excuse me. The nights festivities are getting underway, and I, as Host, have some duties to perform." With a gracious bow, Liaison slowly vanished away, the sound of a tapping cane playing his goodbye.

He arrived at the area of the fight. It was a marvelous invention, one he was glad to have procured through various dealings with a Paradii, and other assortes powerful beings. They were dead or missing now, but that was no particular bother of his, after all, he was neutral and things had to remain just so.

His black tipped shoes hovered just above the central blob, hidden eyes casting looks this way and that. The blobs themselves were made of some metamorphic material. He gathered that this substance was mined from a burgeoning hypergalaxy. Liaison hadn't been there personally, but was in negotiation to open up talks, or send a approved... liaison... to handle the talks. It was just a matter of which one. Shaking his head, he recalled the properties of this particular substance. When a person made contact with it, after being assigned one, it would transform based off their wishes. They had to get it right the first time, because it wouldn't change afterwards - not until whatever was happening was over.

There were five; higher powered beings used only four - relying mainly on distance attacks and widespread energy manipulation. He recalled one where a man, Rilla, used Creation threads to deflect and redirect attacks. Another, DEMS, manifested negation energy to combat two of the more powerful members of the quartet. A marvelous encounter.

Shaking his head of the memories, he racked his thoughts for any other pertinent information. Ah, yes, they rotated. Time stopped, and there were no manipulations allowed in such a thing, he had had to reprimand a time wizard once before. Time stopped, and the battlefield switched, at random, to another of the remaining four. Anything not a natural part of the battlefield, anything part of the battlefield that had been uprooted or otherwise moved in a way that it was no longer affected, would move. He recalled a tree being pulled from a wooded one, and appearing in a area that was blanketed in snow when the battlefield changed.

Sick surprise for the man who had to take that tree to the face. Even his own healers had a hard time fixing the broken bones and cartilage. Could do nothing for the man's psyche though, now he resides somewhere in a galaxy where the sun literally burns away all the moisture, forbiding even the slightest hint of snow.

Poor man.

There was little else to remember, the show was quickly coming- man how time flies when you're thinking of other things.

Flicking his wrist, dust particles rose and congregated in front of his face. He cleared his throat, a sound that seemed remarkably loud, as though he were speaking into a microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, tonights festivities are about to start. We'll see four of the top mid-level fighters this new hyperverse has to offer compete in a free for all. The rules are simple, each sets their battleground - so long as it isn't auto-kill when anyone else lands on it. Each round, or two, the battlefield will change. To all, it will happen in an instant, the competitors will find themselves on solid footing, with nothing obstructing any incoming attack, though cover is sure to be near. They'll need to be detailed in their thoughts, however, otherwise it could come back to bite them in the ass.

After they set their field, they report to this blob, this bland blob which doesn't change it'shape at all. It shall remain a three square mile bit of substance. Don't worry, all viewers are provided with special contact lenses that allow them to watch as though they are right with the action. With five different settings. One for each character to see through their eyes, so to speak, and one for an aerial view."

Liaison stopped for a breath.

"There are other rules, however, but they already know them.

Without further ado.... your entertainment for the evening!"
Liaison bowed out and returned to the viewing room, just as the competitors would be arriving.

[MelonHead]

The Battlefield

She rocked back and forth on her stony perch, her legs dangling over the murky waters of the Avoca. She enjoyed being home, for what it was worth, though sitting atop the Nineteen Arches Bridge was bringing back painful memories of her past life. She sighed and pressed her frayed white dress against her sides, flattening it to the stone and forcing out water from the material which trickled down into the river. She was soaking wet, as always, as if she had been caught out in the rain all night, though it had been a dry evening and promised to stay that way at least until daybreak. Such was the curse of being a Wraith of Water.

There was a small splash and plop as something emerged from the river below her, and she looked down with tear stained eyes at the intrusion with curiosity mingled with anger. As her eyes met that which emerged however she was suddenly torn from consciousness, and fell into a deep unnatural slumber.

Anna awoke in a featureless emptiness led down on a hard surface, surprise evident on her pretty face as her eyebrows furrowed. She lifted herself to her feet, looking around at the strange place she had been whisked away to with a growing frustration. She hated it when people bothered her while she was remembering, it usually drove her to violence. Her hands ran through wet red hair and set it back in order, her bare feet exploring the material at her feet. It felt oddly… pliant.

Eventually her eyes sought out the Orb, the only noticeable deviation from nothingness in her general vicinity. She tip-toed over and stared, hands behind her back as she leant in close to inspect the strange blob. It meant nothing to her personally, at least the human part of her, but the spirit that had melded with her mind understood its purpose. She raised one hand, intent on discovering exactly what she was doing in this place.

As her hand touched the orb her mind flashed up images of home, and the amorphous material all around her moved to comply with her wishes. The ground shifted and began to flow, rushing and changing around her. Suddenly she was up to her knees in river water, her eyes drawn to the strange reformation in fascination. The water level continued to rise and she happily sat at the bottom of the environment that formed, an exact replica of the Nineteen Arches Bridge from the early 1800’s and the river Avoca. The bridge sat at the very edge of the strange roughly square shaped area she had found herself in, and the river flowed towards it, the area where the banks of the river should have been had been cut off abruptly and the water swirled there unnaturally. On the bridge side it seemed as if there was more empty space like she had found herself in, and some of the river water pooled off the side of her own special place and leaked into the surrounding area. She floated up to the top and glided towards that empty spot now, using the water around her to climb up onto the bridge and look over to the other side, where she finally realised what was around her. She looked down on empty space in the middle of three other squares like her own place, and wondered what was going to happen. She knew that whoever she saw was likely to have caused her to come here, and though she liked having the river, she wasn’t sure how she was going to react to her kidnapper.

[GreivousKhan]

Roughly five Hundred years ago...

Am I dead?

You are banished from Death.

Cast adrift between the world of light and darkness.

A curse has bound us together; to walk the multiverse unending. It has stolen from you your memories and identity. While it as stolen me of my freedom

If what you say holds truth, then how do we break this curse?

You must find the one who cursed you. To do that, you must find a Dreamer…

Battlefield

Present

The static charge above one nondescript blob was an ostentatious show of bright lights and a marrid of colors. These flashes of energies accumulated into a powerful and fierce ball of changing force. Then in one instant the shifting figure of pure azure plasma became a widening fissure slicing through time and space floating just ten feet from the ground. A single shadowy figure could be seen at the mouth of the fissure as it widened to the length and size of a 8x8 doorway. In one great bound the figure emerged, the air whipping about his frame with his coat billowing up behind him as the gateway slammed shut behind -- vanishing altogether.

A loud splash followed the man's landing, and indeed it the figure was a man. As he slowly stood to his feet he brought his hands up and down again brushing back the great coat he wore. The man was adorned in faded black garments, a long sleeved tunic of black cotton, with a leather guard on his right shoulder. His black high boots sending ripples across the surface of the blob he stood on.

The man’s face was partly obscured by a length of dark cloth, only revealing his dark brown eyes that slowly took in his surroundings. He adjusted the wide brimmed hat he wore, running his finger along the length of the brim when he finished. Well here he was it would seem. The Lady of Ravens was not wrong. Of course she never was in any case. He’d never doubted her before though it had taken many decades for him to learn to trust the strange elder being.

‘We've arrived,’ chitted a voice that sounded like it was shivering. The spirit of the Drowned one hovered several feet to Tordors left side. A space of incorporeal sorrow, sadness, and hurt that was almost palpable.

“Yes we have.” Torder answered grimly. “One step to finally finding the answers I seek. I will need your help, and that of the others now more than ever.”

The spirit shuddered as it faded to becoming almost completely invisible even to his otherworldly senses. A simple turnabout revealed that their location was utterly free of any terrain features. Just as the Queen of Nightmares had said it would be like.

Tordor sighed as he shrugged and rotated his shoulders before cracking his neck audibly. “Well then. Here goes nothing.”

He closed his eyes and focused his mind, picturing the image and willing it into existence. It took some time, though not as long as he had thought at first. When focused his mind to his surroundings once more, he noticed he was in a great green forest. The gentle chirps of birds and crickets giving the place an almost serene air. The whole forest some 120 yards in circumference.

The forest tree branches were so thick barely any sun could manage to peek through, shrouding the place in perpetual darkness. It was no hindrance to his supernatural sight, but the gloom might hinder those of the living who relayed on light to see. Unless of course his opponents could see in the dark just fine. In any case he kept liked his little creation. It was peaceful, possessing a haunting beauty to it. A single blue winged morpho butterfly fluttered into view.

Instinctively Tordor extended a hand allowing the insect to land on his arm. He took a moment to admire it before it flew off again when he raised his left hand to it. He sighed and decided he had wasted enough time. He began walking then. Soon appearing again in a featureless blob of terrain. He quickly realized this blob was much like the one he had changed moments ago. Along with the fact it was between four such blobs in all.

He noticed only one figure standing some 40 feet away, a feminine figure by the looks of it. Touching a hand to his head he bowed courteously, “Greetings, I’m guessing your not ‘The Liaison,' Then?” he asked as he tipped his hat to her by way of greeting before standing straight again.

[LeeRoy]

With the sounds of engines roaring and flaring, the imaginary crowd hollering in her ears. Excitement sending waves of heat through her veins, a bit of her father's recklessness and brovado truly showing in her. Bita soared towards the growing battlefield, two squares already forming as she rocketed towards the blob that is labeled as her's. With a deft motion she spun her body mid air and slapped the jiggling mass, its strange composition erupting into a standard issue Pundambayan Martial Art's training hall. Not dissimilar to human martial arts halls with foam mats and wooden practice posts, weights strewn about. It was the first thing that came to her head when the thought of combat raced through her thoughts.

Her feet touched down on the mat with a silent thud, muttering a silent word in the ancient language of her ancestors. "Jaggar Roh." A violent surging light erupted from the core of her body and spiralled around her, positioning itself above various parallel points on her body. Spinning into circular rings of golden light that shimmered softly above her suit of armor.

There really wasn't much for her to do now that her arena had been created, the questions of how it actually worked were likely to go unanswered. So she figured not to pry. Bita shrugged slightly and made her way to the center, raising a hand in a salute to the entity at the center. Speaking to him in her native tongue as to avoid the competition understanding her.

The assumption standing that she believes that this entity is high enough on the spiritual level to outright understand her language, but her competition clearly wouldn't even be able to comprehend the words. "So, these losers are here for me to crush, correct?" She thumbed towards the two that had already arrived. "Slim pickings in the multiversal convention or something?"

[Willy Vereb]

"Huh, where am I?" Alicia looked around in confusion. She remembers patrolling the city like she always did at night but the last 20 minutes are like a blur to her. She vaguely recalls a conversation with a scary person talking about a battle to the death or something. It was a surreal experience and Alicia wishes that to be just a dream. Yet deep down she could feel that was reality. It happened and she found herself within the empty void with nothing but a small sphere floating in front of her. Alicia suddenly remembers the sphere which took her to this strange world. Maybe she can find her way home afterall!

Alicia touched the sphere and thought of returning home. Suddenly she found herself in the familiar scenery of New York.

Image

"Oh no! The sun is almost up! Mom is going to scold me if I don't be in my bed at morning!" Alicia though this and ran. Yet something was strange. Wherever she went Alicia didn't meet anybody. All streets were completely empty. She checked the time on her watch, it was 5:00AM, just like five minutes ago. Did her watch broke? No, she checked the clocks on the street and they all showed 5:00 AM. As if the time's flow stopped. "No!...It can't..."

"Yes it did. Now, after you had your fun we have a tight schedule to follow. I take you to the main arena. Everyone is waiting for you!" Alicia heard that scary voice again. Soon the world around her became a blur and she suddenly found herself in the center of the arena. The crowd was cheering in the distance but Alicia had a feeling she wouldn't like the same thing they do. In her field of vision she saw 3 people, all of them looking mean and scary. She felt a strong bad guy vibe from them. Still, her mother taught Alicia to not judge book from its cover. "Howdy! My name is Alici-...*ekhm* I mean Shining Blaze." She waved at the strangers though Alicia didn't let her guard down. If what that Liaison guy said was true she's part of a four-way deathmatch of freaks across the multiverse thing. That was a cliche scenario in comic books but even after becoming a superheroine Alicia never thought this would happen to her. Yet she had no reason to be excited. Some bad guys kidnapped her and they are forcing poor Alicia to fight. She'll give them a good clobbering as soon as she escapes!

[MelonHead]

Anna stood stark still on the dark, featureless, terrain. After a short period of time three others had joined her, and one had even been polite enough to greet the Wraith initially with a tip of her hat, she regarded him tearfully and almost smiled, but her anger was greater. These three had to be a part of whatever nefarious plot had dragged her to this place, and she had to stand outside of her watery place which was making her even madder. One of the two other females was saying something and she said it in such a way that the implication came through, even if the words were undecipherable to the Wraith. Her eyes furrowed in irritation.

Finally the last of the three, a pretty younger girl who Anna had more sympathy for than the older swaggering woman, introduced herself. Anna smiled at her, her eyes still red-rimmed but briefly lighting up with happiness.

“I’m Anna, I’m pleased to meet you.” She said, her words tinged with a light Irish accent. They weren’t really stood at a comfortable speaking distance, none of them were, so Anna began to walk closer to her so they could talk.

[GreivousKhan]

Tordor straightened as he noticed the entry of two more individuals. The first thing that struck him was it seemed that all his opponents were in fact women...one looked to be hardly old enough to be considered a full grown woman at that. The disembodied souls that followed him danced around, each speaking their own mind of how to best approach this situation. He tuned them out for now, deciding being cordial couldn't hurt. It would give him a chance to get an idea of who and what he was dealing with here. After all, someone so young could not possibly his opponent, could they?

He walked calmly forward, his hands at his sides until he was just safely at the very edge of the social zone(12ft); remembering his decorum.

"Howdy! My name is Alici-...*ekhm* I mean Shining Blaze."

Right foot forward and left leg behind the first, a hand to his chest while the other was raised palm upward to his side, Tordor kneeled easily as he introduced himself. “Tordor Ebonhand, at your service.” All the while he kept attuned to his surroundings. His last name was not real, to this day he could not remember his full real name. One of many questions he would find the answer to. So he hoped at least.

[LeeRoy]

Still staring at the large black blob in the middle, the Pundambayan woman just sort of frowned behind her mask. There was no reply, and she started to feel a bit flush. Perhaps the blob in the middle was not quite sentient, and she was just standing there speaking to herself. If she weren't wearing a full helmet her foes would have seen her face turn bright red with embarrassment. Stepping away from the blob a few feet and raising her arms upwards, she popped her joints and began some stretches. If she were going to be fighting these three she may as well avoid getting a cramp, at least she wouldn't be in pain after this.

It's not like any of them look like any sort of threat. She mused the thought in her head, looking from one to another of the foes surrounding the central mass of black. We have a girly-girl who looks to be some sort of air-head. Flustered already and she's only spoken to one of the opponents. We've got a tall drink of water, literally a drink of water. What? Not bothering to press the subject of what in the world was animating a humanoid form of water, she looked to the last opponent.

A tall man who would be considered a pretty-boy back on Pundambaya.

Twisting the knob on the right of her helmet, a slight static crackling emerged from the mouthplate of her helmet. She spat words in the language of her three opponents while staring at Tordor. Words carrying a particularly spiteful bite towards the tall and thin man. "I hate pretty-boys."

[MelonHead]

Anna looked at the younger girl quizzically as she approached, finding it odd that she was just standing there gormlessly. The Wraith assumed she was just overcome by the gravity of the situation, though her brow began to furrow in irritation, even if she was a young woman Anna didn’t like being ignored, if it had been one of the others she probably would have decapitated them. She turned to them now, standing roughly in the middle of the group as she had walked forward and into their paths in her wish to speak with the now paralysed girl.

She caught the glance of the older, angrier looking woman in strange attire glaring at the tall man. She didn’t really understand why she was angry, after all the only one with any real cause for anger right then was Anna, dragged from the river twice now in quick succession.

“What am I doing here?” Anna chimed in suddenly, her voice lilted slightly with a growing anger. “Which of you brought me to this place?” She immediately stared at the angry woman, though usually the tall man would have been her initial suspect he had been polite to her thus far and had alleviated her suspicion. Water dripped from her frayed white dress and began to coalesce at her feet in a small puddle, which remained oddly stationary on the strange surface they found themselves upon.

[GreivousKhan]

Tordor studied these two women who had addressed him. One, as expected, seemed already rather hostile toward him fresh from talking to one of the large pillars of black liquid scattered about the landscape- for whatever reason. More interestingly by the looks of her, she seemed to be a dwarf-kin, much like those who inhabited Rhul in the east. A dwarf being present here wouldn't really surprise him. Yet, there was something very strange about this one. Strange attire and the odd pitch to her voice aside.

Then there was the stunning red-head who by all accounts looked human. However, Tordor could sense there was certainly something off about this one; he could sense a kind of affinity he could not rightly explain. It was at that moment a chill ran down his spine as he keenly felt not so much sensed the awakening of one of his more volatile spirit allies. Though ally was perhaps far too strong a word.

“Why do you still rely on your human senses? I see far more than any mere mortal”

The unmistakable haughty tone of the soul trapped within his sword echoed within Tordors mind. Instead of responding Tordor merely took the advice for what it was. All it took was getting himself into the right frame of mind. He blinked and suddenly the world around him took on strange new hues and colors. The very life force of his opponents became visible to him, or in the case of the red haired women, lack there of.

Amethyst fires blazed in the center of her being, unlike the bright blue auras that centered and pulsed from the dwarf and younger woman. Tordor knew the undead intimately enough to recognize when one was standing right in front of him. He also knew enough of people to realized from her question and apparent confusion, she wasn't aware of what she was apart of. But how could that be?

Tordor fixed his hat to his head more firmly as he placed his right foot behind him, to a keen eyed observer they would see his movement had incidentally made him a smaller target.“Well, it’s quite simple my dear,” He began. “You’ve been forced into a game of sport by some wanker called ‘The Liaison’ who happens to have few things better to do with his time. Still you're lucky, most in this kind of situation would have simply attacked you unprovoked. But I know a much better solution to our shared predicament.”

As he spoke he brushed off his sleeves and fixed their cuffs as if he were readying for some strenuous activity. “You need only vocally surrender and you're likely to be returned to exactly where you came from. The fella hates quitters but he’ll have no choice. Simple as pie.” He added with a wink.

“Bah, foolish mortal sentimentality.”

[LeeRoy]

With a sharp wave of indignity striking her suddenly, Bita stepped away from the others and positioned herself quite a few feet away from them. Definitely outside of anyone else's effective melee range, to give herself the advantage of distance immediately. Knowing not what the others can do, Bita has decided to stop with the pretext of pleasantries immediately. The tall man had made a huge mistake, instead of replying to her, he simply ignored her.

The stubborn little woman doesn't like that, not one bit.

One she had placed herself a fair distance away, she raised her arm up to match her shoulder in height. Taking aim down the length of her arm she raised her palm vertically. Exposing the the ring directly towards where Tordor was standing, a bright light and a slight hum emerged from her hand as a dagger of golden and crimson overlapping eachother erupted from the circle. It shot forwards, a small spear of energy with deadly intent. The Pundambayan woman was already on the offensive and Tordor was her target.

She would let them all know that she was very serious, as her first attack was enough to skewer a human several times over. And it was aimed directly towards Tordor's midriff. No, she didn't figure it would hit. Nor did she figure it would kill him immediately if it did manage to hit. That wouldn't make any sense, they wouldn't put squishy normal folks up against a Pundambayan Soldier. That's not a fight, it's an execution.

Bita just wanted to scare him.

[GreivousKhan]

;K

[MelonHead]

Anna’s supernatural senses were still barely enough to warn her of the incoming projectile, and she might very well have been struck then and there had it not been for the simple fact that she wasn’t the target. Flying straight past her a spear of energy hurtled towards Tordor, who would have to act quickly if he wanted to survive the strike.

For her own part, Anna looked around at Bita furiously, how dare she start attacking people for no good reason. The inherent hypocrisy in such thoughts lost on the Irish Wraith, Anna waltzed over to Bita to give her a piece of her mind, water dripping from her soaked clothes and leaving wet footprints on the ground as she went, she was neither running nor walking exactly, but rather fast-walking over to the angry little woman. As she passed she waved her hand, sending a splashing wave of water over at the young girl called Shining Blaze. It was only designed to sweep her off her feet and push her away from the fight so she wouldn’t get hurt, as Anna raised her same hand in a pointing finger.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anna asked Bita angrily, her brow furrowed as her mouth stuck in a disapproving frown. It hadn’t dawned on the Wraith that she might be waltzing into the middle of what could be a deadly response from Tordor. However the line of sight was still open for him to engage Bita directly so he had no reason to strike Anna from behind unless he wanted to.

[GreivousKhan]

Tordor tipped his hat as he smiled knowingly. It seemed his proposition would be ignored. very well, it couldn't be helped. While he despised the idea of fighting women, it couldn't be avoided and he’d have to make an exception perhaps just this once. If they were chosen to participate within this challenge, than the choice was now outside his hands. Losing was simply not an option- for the sake of those who counted on him… he needed to know. He had to know.

He noticed the dwarf woman retreat some distance away, the reason plainly obvious to anyone even if they possessed no acume for battle tactics. So the woman could attack from a distance? Interesting. Likely she choose to do so believing Tordor’s sword was his only weapon. His own pistols still out of sight under his greatcoat. Sadly for the dwarf, who had been too rude to even introduce themselves and conduct themselves as befitting a warrior, Tordor had started already preparing for just such an attack.

As the woman raised her hand; Tordor for his part did not so much as bat an eye or make any obvious show that he was aware of what she was planning. Gold and red light flashed into existence and seemed to spring toward Tordor. To the naked eye it seemed in one instance the spear of light was speeding toward its target, than the next the spear had flown past Tordor’s chest just missing him by inches. Standing at an angle to his opponent meant he needed to move much less of his body than if he had been standing straight and forward facing them. The gentlemen turned multiverse mercenary leaning back just before the bolt of light was launched in his direction. Avoiding it hitting his left shoulder as it sailed by him, the resulting displaced air sending his coat bellowing back.

The lance swept by to end up skewing a pillar of black liquid several meters away.

After it had passed Tordor was standing straight again as easily as he had been before. A hand on his hat and head down slightly. Having used sleight of hand to press the trigger activation for his blade, causing the wheel mechanism to spin in a low hum.

“Well, that was rude.”

His freehand brushed the sides of his greatcoat and thumbed the side of another trigger near his waist that started a spinning wheel for his two pistols. He sighed as he added “But it can’t be helped. Yet, it would be rude of me to fight one who’s name I yet do not know.”

He looked toward the dwarf woman then, a serious gleam in his brown eyes that hadn't been there before. “So will you give me a name young warrior? Or will you die unknown?”

Meanwhile, he kept in the same stance as before his left leg leading, right behind it and ready in case another wanted to act.