LeeRoy

Drawn Innexorably Towards Confrontation

Face down towards the dirt he groaned, tears still streaming from his face. Pooling on his nose in long drops before falling to the ground. Fury stood over him, he had him totally aat his disposal. Without any resistance he could have killed him, he could have destroyed this problem before it drove questions into his brain.

But the seed of questioning had already been laid, in his stupor he had muttered the name. "Manadar. . . Manadar Rane." As much as Kanitah had stunned Dunnaman, it had stunned Fury. Brought him to a knee and brought a question to his lips, a question that was harder than it should have been.

"You're Kanitah, aren't you?"

In silence he sat for a good few moments before bothering to speak. "Gods ah' don't know. Ah' know tha nahm, ah' fehl eht ehn mah heart an' core." He shook his head and ran his right hand's fingers through his hair, dirt fell from his hand as he raised it from the ground. He had grabbed a handful of earth and crushed it in that strange flash.

The more he thought about the memories that were as fleeting as floaters in the eye, every time he focused on one it drifted from him. "Ah'm not sure, eht fehl's lahk Kanitah was a drehm. Lahk a lahf ah lehved for a tahm and now ah've woken up." The burning behind his eyes was too much and he shut his eyes before leaning back onto his knees. Putting himself at the same face level as Fury. "Ah'm not sure thah memorahs are mah own, but ah must ahsk. What mahd you kehll Kanitah? Whah dehd you hunt hehm? Whah dehd you kehll hehm?"

On this strange eve of thoughts, the thoughts that lingered from the old mind of Kanitah crept through the mind of Dunnaman. Questions he would have never asked before, as Kanitah. The prideful old warrior was a memory, Dunnaman was the confused young man.

Questions were all he had.

Arena Chat Thread

@ImportantNobody
People always forget that the Katana wasn't the only sword the Japanese ever used.

Arena Chat Thread

@ImportantNobody
Maybe he's just a soldier.

@Doc Doctor
Yeah that seems about right, strange concept though. Dealing with it will be difficult. I would say he's intermediate but I also don't know how strong he is, or fast, or durable. If he's a weenie, physically, he'd be low tier. But if he's jacked he'd be intermediate.

Arena Chat Thread

@Doc Doctor
We all know my preference for "Higher Power the Better."

So upper low tier, maybe even intermediate.

Arena Chat Thread

@Doc Doctor
Might be weird being in two fights with you at the same time. But I'll join in.

@Divinity, @ImportantNobody

Primal Machinations - Ananze Vs The Clockwork Man

@MelonHead
Aight.

League of Legends [Massive World Game/Lore]

@Holy Soldier
Always

Drawn Innexorably Towards Confrontation

@MelonHead
He told Kanitah in their fight.

"She grew up to be so different from me, y'know? Because I wasn't there for her. Because I was out here, dealing with freaks like you. Because it's a fun hobby. Because I like being The Hero, because it's all I'm good at."

@LeeRoy

"My name is Manadar Rane, I am the last of the Fireen, and my planet Antire was destroyed. The creature known as Skallagrim took everyone I ever knew and loved and killed them all."

@MelonHead

Steel Cages and Iron Wills. Jake the "Under" Taker vs Red Streak Fergus MacBrainan

@Skallagrim
It's cool my man, real life exists and this is a hobby.

League of Legends [Massive World Game/Lore]

Name: Jax
Affiliation: Ionia, and by proxy Demacia. Though, loosely.
Location: Castle of the Gods.

That familiar blue aura of teleportation washed across him as he stood atop the dias in the Placidium of Ionia, Jax nodded a silent farewell to the surrounding scholars and spiritualists alike as he vanished into thin air. In a moment he reappeared in a spectacular venue rivaling that of the Placidium itself, though much more decadent and not much in the way of orderly. Despite its exuberance it was merely a locale that served the purpose of looking pretty. Rather than having any particular unique quality about it, it relied on the concept of beauty to give it the appearance of glory. He inhaled through is nostrils and let out a long sigh, adjusting his shoulders to lessen the weight of the length of brass lamppost on his back. After stepping from the elevated platform he was stopped by a man dressed lightly in armor who asked of him to leave his weapon at the door, behind the mask he smiled slightly and gave a short laugh.

Reaching behind himself and grasping the pole with his thumb and forefinger he showed it to the guard. "Hah, this old thing? Haven't you seen a lamp before?" Before the man replied he laughed again and stepped past him, for a moment the guard contemplated stopping him. Even raised his hand towards the strange figure before reconsidering his decision. Of all the people in the world to argue with, Jax was not one that the guard would bother.

It was a laborious task seeking his prize at this locale, the hustle and bustle of the venue was particularly great. Nobles of every nation state were doting about with a sickening sense of importance. Even those nationals that weren't particularly fond of either nation were here, likely forming relations with the higher ups of individual nations to get in good with the most powerful states. Man, if these people really sat down and thought about the important issues. Shurima's rise, the Void's growing influence, the hellscape of the Shadow Isles. If they'd seen what Jax has seen in his long years, they wouldn't bother with the petty squabbles of Demacia and Noxus.

If Jax thought so low of these people, why was he here?

Well, a number of reasons. If a fight breaks out, sweet. The champ's here to add some teeth to the list of teeth he's knocked out. Of course there might be a chance that he might actually find some sort of interesting adventure by following some noble home to their nation-state that would be fine as well. The biggest reason, however, and the reason he's thus far forgotten to replant his lamppost on his back.

Liquor.

Of all the fancy food and decoration that was here, the high standards of the people observing and consuming it? The liquor here must be the single most expensive and highest quality out there. Behind, of course, Gragas' most recent brew. Obviously nothing compared to the best drink that only ever improves, but this was effectively a consolation prize. For not bothering to actually traverse the Freljord in order to seek out his old friend.

It was about this time that he remembered carrying a magically alight lamp in one's hand might be taken as an offense, obviously he didn't want to start a fuss before he hand found his prize. He placed the post back in the leather holster on his back and continued shoving his way through the crowd.

Name: Sion
Affiliation: Noxus
Location: Far beneath the Castle of the Gods.

Party? Yes. They had said party. They had said secret.

There was a colossal carriage that had carried several Noxian nobles to the teleporter directly beneath the Castle of the Gods. Beneath the seats that the nobles had ridden was a fake panel, but why? Chained down beneath that panel lied the beastly horror that is Sion, and beneath him was another deeper panel. And in that panel was a catapult, primed and ready to launch the beast towards the castle once the signal was raised.

It was a particularly complex and intentionally show-offish carriage, so despite the inner workings it didn't look too abnormal.

But why?

What purpose did they have for bringing the heathenish creature here?

Sion is an engine of war, designed to be unleashed on the unprepared. If violence broke out inside of the party, a signal would be raised. The goliath would be fired at the castle and unleash absolute hell upon any Demacian noble or soldier that crossed his path.

Battle. . .Yessss.