OOC:
ROSTER NOW FULL
Alright, folks. This is my first battle here in EH, but I've been RPing for about ten years now, so hopefully I won't come off as a
complete noob.
Tenport Arena is in a nondescript place. As the name suggests, it is primarily reachable via ships, but teleportation is also an option. We are to assume it is an island of some sort, but nothing is set in stone yet.
I don't care who jumps in here, but I would like to maintain some order. So, here's two stipulations: I need medieval/fantasy characters only, and I would say no more than a total of four total, just to keep the chaos to a minimum without tossing it entirely.
So here's the character roster so far.
1. Mathias Blackharrow
2. Ren Nevisu
3. Tierra Nena
4. Kartaikian "Stormcloud" Syriax
Just post your entrance in the arena and dig into the fighting right away. My first post will be a set-up opener, so expect me to post my battle entrance once someone else joins. Sounds exciting! ^^
For reference purposes, it does not have to be 2v2. It can be a free-for-all, but an allied victory of two people is allowed. For the winners, there is a prize, and you can decide what it is-- whatever you want.
If you desire, you can fight to the death. However, it is up to each contestant when he or she has had enough, and can forfeit. Post a defeated scene, followed by an exit by some means and remove yourself from the fight.
If this takes off, we can do more rounds after the first!
IC:
The roar of the crowd overhead made the wooden rafters shake beneath the arena. As fighters prepared by suiting into their armor and sharpening their weapons, Mathias sat along the sides on a wooden bench, writing. His mind was on his faith as he scribbled into his journal.
'They say this arena doesn't care for fights to the death,' he wrote,
'but I see the weapons these warriors use. There is no other outcome possible in these fights. There is no protective enchantment, no guards or healers on duty; just metal, and flesh. If I take a blade to the gut, I don't expect I should be revived.' As he mulled over his own words, he let out a soft sigh, and closed his eyes, speaking a silent prayer in his mind.
"Jintus, Great Builder, mighty and divine; watch over me, that I may bring honor to my homecountry, and to You. Akaila the Icewind, Oren the Skullbearer-- grant me the strength, as you have so many times before, to defeat those who oppose me. The glory is yours, Jintus, and Ipsxilliovn's. Amen."
His eyes parted, and his mindset shifted. As faith gave way to preperation, he pulled his bag from beneath the bench and opened it. The clatter of glass and wooden containers clicking together echoed dully throughout the wooden underground in which he sat, but was lost to the noise of other fighters talking, laughing, and sparring around him. Mathias contemplated his actions as he took various potions, choosing mostly the glass bottles, and tucked them into a heavily padded sack attached to the back of his shield, and a few spares into a smaller sack on his right hip.
As he stood, he ran checks over his armor, to ensure it was all in place. His brigandine was in place, covering his torso, and his molded leather greaves and boots protected his legs. The chainmail sleeves that were riveted to his thick leather pauldrons protected his upper arms, while a molded leather gauntlet covered his right forearm and hand. All of the leather that covered his body bore newly-adorned studs of brass, installed in preperation for this arena. As he patted his trusty mace on his hip, he set his shield down on the bench and fished the targ spike from his bag. After screwing it into place in the center of the steel knob, he slung his shield onto his back and reached for nis new helmet; a steel helm molded into a Corinthian shape. Just as he touched it, he heard the shout.
"Alright, Pit Dogs!" cried the Warmaster. "We got another fight for you. The game's got four contestnants, see, and it's gonna be a real brawl." The man looked to Mathias and grinned. "Blackharrow! Fresh of the ships and into the sands-- that's what you wanted, eh? Get yer ass to the gate!"
With a sneer, Mathias slipped his helm over his head and moved past the shouting Warmaster to the stone steps that led up to the arena. As he armed his shield and unleashed his mace, he heard the large iron doors close and lock behind him. Between him and the sandy arena stood a large gate, and he knew that once the gate fell, the games would begin. Perhaps there would be some fun after all.