The Colosseum- 4 others.

OoC: Ok this is for four other characters, this is alot like Cutthroat Camp in that I don't want anyone to join if they plan on using robotic/futuristic/modern/angelic/demonic characters. Please stick to mages, warriors and archers, I'll be using Kichaa Mesoa.

Also everone should start out with a beginning battle with a criminal using equipment they are unfamiliar with. Choose something you like that isn't rare or fancy, but this will be your weapon for the rest of the battle. This is a quest type battle and your characters will get to keep a reforged version of whatever weapon you choose if you want.

Thank you and have fun if you join!

BiC:
Kichaa stood firm and undaunted, staring at his opponent. This was the sixth criminal that had been pitted against him, and he was tiring of their simple styles. He was not allowed to bring his own weapon or a shield, as it would be unfair if he'd had equipment he was familiar with, so all he had was his armor and a curved sword they'd called a scimitar.

Other than the curve of the blade, the scimitar was very similar to a regular sword and Kichaa grasped the weapon's abilities easily. The weapon was offensive, but Kichaa had been practicing a new style of combat lately so he was more than ready to use such a weapon.

This battle was one of a series. When he'd arrived on this island with Essie they'd needed nearly six week's worth of repairs on the Soarline, so he'd looked for things to do. After a few days he had heard about a seasonal championship that they held in the island's large fight pit. The entry fee was just below how much Kichaa had, but with over seven hundred challengers to face the winners earned much more back. The tiers Kichaa was currently in were placement rounds, in which he fought numerous bandits, low-lifes, and criminals in order to find a place in the actual competition.

The pit was a large, sandy... pit. It was nearly fifty feet deep with sturdy boards holding the sand back from filling in the hole, and at either side there were doors. One lead up into the sleeping quarters for participants and the other lead down into the pit's holding cells. None of the prisoners ever saw the light of day until they were set out against what would likely be their doom.

Across from Kichaa, the murderer was blinking his eyes in pain, hoping that Kichaa would wait for him to recover. Kichaa, wanting a challenge, did so, circling the man slowly with his scimitar down at his side. The criminal charged him in mere seconds, but Kichaa was ready, leaping to the side and deftly sweeping the man's feet from under him with a swift kick. The man rolled away, then performed a spinning jump, landing on his feet. Kichaa admired the agile way he'd recovered before moving in to attack.

The first blow he attempted was a false attack to the man's left arm, his sword arm, but before he connected with the man's own short sword he quickly spun around in a full-fledged spin kick, knocking the man to the dirt yet again. The man rolled to his feet again, this time spitting blood and teeth onto the stadium floor. This garnered screams of approval for Kichaa, who was already lunging forward at the man. The lunge sent the man off balance, angering him enough to let out a savage grunt- this was all he could do as all murderers had their tongues cut out- and swing his sword at Kichaa, who parried easily, sending the man off balance yet again.

Desiring to end this quickly, Kichaa immediately brought his scimitar down on the man's upraised sword, then forcing him to the right. Kichaa spun quickly, and slashed open the man's side, to which the man howled in pain as he clutched it. The man had dropped the sword, but was now reaching for it on his hands and knees. He wasn't fast enough, and a moment later his head was lying a foot or so away from his body.

A few hours later Kichaa sat at the table with the rest of the chosen competitors, sharing some conversation with the men and women sitting closest to him. There were about four of them that were actually willing to converse with him, and the others simply ate in silence.

Can I use Blackshot? He's an archer from the Middle Ages, but a lot of his adventures happen in Hyrule.

That's fine.

OoC: Thanks. My turn to post.

BiC: Blackshot was panting hard. His fifth opponent was no pushover, wearing green pants, and a red shirt. He wore a white bandana, and held a long, curved sword. This assassin, as they had told him, was obviously very familiar with this katana, but Blackshot... he had never even held a spear, the weapon he was forced to fight with!

He narrowly dodged the fast warrior, who was cutting ribbons into the air with his sword. Blackshot clumsily stabbed at the assassin, who parried the move and charged forward, slashing Blackshot in the chest. The crossbowman backflipped away, and charged again. His opponent dodged the stab again, and again, and again, as if he was just toying with Blackshot. Which he was.

The assassin all but ended the battle by hitting Blackshot in the face with the sword's hilt. The crossbowman, sensing a plan coming on, shoved himself backward, falling several feet away. As the assassin approached, the crossbowman thrusted his spear into his opponent's leg. The assassin cried out in pain and doubled over. Not hesitating, Blackshot pulled the katana from his opponent and brutally severed the assassin's head.

What a mission! The winner of the Colosseum battles, supposedly, would get a blessing from Heiosgrem, the sacred warrior and creator of the tournament, as well as 1,000,000 pounds. Blackshot decided that this blessing might help destroy his curse.

At dinner that night, he met a man named Kichaa Mesoa. "So, what brings you to the Colosseum?" the crossbowman inquired casually. Kichaa shrugged. "Honor, money. What about you?" "Salvation," Blackshot answered gloomily. Another competitor interrupted at that point.

OoC: I don't know the other competitor: no more to write.

OoC: I'll go ahead and join. Soledad's in the sig.

BiC:

Soledad was surprised he'd made it this far. They hadn't let him use his sword, or even his dagger. Instead he had been stuck with an axe. Because it wasn't too heavy and only took one hand, he also got to fight with a small iron shield. It offered some protection, but not much.

As he walked into the arena, the crowd cheered. He saw remnants of the last few battles lying along the ground. Blood, teeth, and....was that a head? No, just a large rock. They had cleared all of the body parts away. He looked across the pit and saw his foe. He looked pretty strong, he was a few inches taller than Soledad and much stronger. He made a war cry from his throat because his tounge was no longer functional. Or even in his mouth. As he made the greusome sound, his muscles bulged and strained the threads of his shirt. He was intimidating.

He had on a green shirt that was very torn, his pants were in the same condition, he had no shoes to speak of, in short, he was a mess. Soledad, on the other hand, was freshly shaven, clean clothes, and some battle-hardened boots. But while he had a new weapon, the murderer on the other side of the pit was familiar with his. A long spear was what he had gone on a rampage with, and he had acquired a skill with it that does not go away with time.

The man rushed Soledad pointing his spear straight at him. Soledad spun off to the side, but got hit in the knees by the man's spear.

'He's really fast' Soledad thought to himself.

As the man brought the spear above his head for a downward strike, Soledad slashed at his opponent's stomach. The man brought the spear down for a block, and deftly knocked the axe out of Soledad's hand. It spun though the air then buried itself deeply in the sand. The crowd was riled. They screamed and jeered and yelled. They wanted blood. And it looked like it was going to be Soledad's.

The man advanced slowly upon Soledad, toying with him. But he kept his cool. Panicking wouldn't get him anwhere. He just needed to keep his defenses up. The man brought the spear down on Soledad, but he deflected it with his shield. As the spear was repelled, Soledad charged with his shield and hit the man in the stomach. As he was doubled over, the assassin rushed to recover his axe. In frustration the murderer threw his spear at Soledad's back. His aim was thrown off by the pain, but it still buried itself in Soledad's left shoulder. He screamed in pain and pulled it out, then turned toward the man.

"You shouldn't have done that" he said in a menacing tone.

The man didn't respond.

"What's that? Cat got your tongue? No, I'll bet one of the jailers does." Soledad was talking to buy some recovery time. He was agitating the man, too. That would make him less of a tactician and more likely to charge blindly.

He went to his axe and dug it out of the ground. He then threw the spear back at his opponent. "You'll need it" he said as it flew to the man's waiting hands.

Once it reached his palms, he sprinted at Soledad. He caught the weapon between his shield and his axe. They both strained; the man to release his weapon and Soledad to keep it there. As they both stood still, the crowd quieted. It was a tense moment. With a loud SNAP! the weapon splintered in two. Soledad quickly swiped horizontally at the man and connected. The axe buried itself in his side and blood began oozing around the weapon. The man roared in pain, but thrust his newly created staff at Soledad's face. Soledad countered by bringing his sword up to block, but as the spear connected with the shield a sharp pain shot through his arm and caused him to drop the shield.

The man saw his opportunity and picked up the head of the spear and tried to drive it into Soledad's heart. Soledad freed his axe and countered the blow, then rolled away from the physically superior man. His arms were hurting from all the blows he had been recieving and his shield was still by the other man. As he thought about that, the murderer picked up his shield. It seemed smaller on that man than it did when Soledad held it.

The man charged again while Soledad was still catching his breath. He rolled along the ground, but the man speared his cloak as it trailed behind him. Pinned to the ground, he could not move. As the murderer loomed above him ready to decapitate him with his shield, he took off his cloak and rolled away. The shield buried itself in the ground taking the neck of the cloak with it. Soledad had never been this free, but he had to adjust to fighting without his favorite part of his attire. The man bent down to pick up his spear and Soledad threw it straight at his skull. At the last moment he stood up, and the axe was deep inside his stomach. He fell over, blood trailing out of his mouth.

Soledad sighed as the man twitched on the ground. He walked over to pick his axe out of the man, and he finally began to hear the crowd. Throughout the fight they had been blocked out, and now their cheers rushed into his skull. He was tired and he just wanted to rest. As he exited the arena and went up to the sleeping quarters, he felt truly sorry for his opponent. He had been a great fighter.


After sleeping off his wariness, he awoke sometime during the night. As he got up, he heard a bell ring off in the distance. It was dinnertime. He pushed himself out of bed and quickly got dressed, then shuffled along with many other tired warriors to the mess hall. He got some food and walked around to find a seat. He saw two men conversing and went over to them.

"So, what brings you to the Colosseum?" the crossbowman inquired casually.

Kichaa shrugged. "Honor, money. What about you?"

"Salvation," Blackshot answered gloomily.

"Salvation from what?" Soledad asked. What was he doing? That was a sudden question. He never even formulated it in his head.

"From....my problems" Blackshot answered finally.

"And what are you here for?" Kichaa asked him.

"What most other people are here for. Anyone could retire with the kind of cash they're giving out" he replied.

"I'm Kichaa, and this is Blackshot" Kichaa introduced the two.

"Soledad" he said, and sat down to eat.

"Yes, I saw your fight" Blackshot said. "You're quite resourceful. And quick, too."

"Thanks...I guess" Soledad replied, a bit embarassed.

"No need to blush, most of those who made it this far are quite skilled" Kichaa said.

The other two began talking about who was the toughest, who was the quickest, who would be the best opponents, who could probably beat them, etc. Soledad finished his meal in silence then went back to his quarters to sleep off his injuries.



OoC: This is by far my longest post ever. Be glad you can witness it.

OoC: OK this is spam, but I just have to post this for all to see... great post Romantic... that was awesome.

OoC: I'll reserve a spot, and I'll be using Merric. I'll edit this post if no one replies later. I just didn't want to get my spot taken. ^_~

And, does this mean that Merric must use a weapon he is unfarmiliar with? And when I do my first post in this thread in BiC, then I have to be fighting a criminal?

OoC: If I'm not mistaken, yes Merric has to be unfamiliar with his weapon. As for the opening battle, that's up there too. You can do it like the others, short and sweet, or you can do it like me, a nice little novel.

About that, I was feeling inspired. It also took like half an hour to make. I was distracted by a few other things, but it still took forever. Thanks for the compliment.

OoC: Your character does NOT have to be unfamiliar with his/her weapon. It only has to be a provided weapon, not his own. For instance, Kichaa got a scimitar. That's a sword, so you can use it well. You don't have to pick something silly like the other two did, but if you want a challenge to write it, by all means!

OoC: I think I get it, thanks. This battle will be interesting... hehe. ^^ So if I'm correct, after we defeat this criminals, we will face eachother and whatnot?

I'm starting now, and I'll be using a bladed whip. Hehe. Prepare to be owned.

OoC: Lol you'll see after we all post. Ok so far we have Milk Duds, Hopeless Romantic, and Drewey who are gunna be in here. One more then I'll let you guys know how the colosseum's system works in my post. So please, don't pit yourselves against each other yet.

Ill join with Sudran, he's a warrior from around that time

Sudran was in immense pain. The wine he had been drinking last night had kicked in and now his vision was slightly dodgy, with didn’t give him any help against his 5th opponent. Sudran had come back from his 5 year armour explosion in the middle of the ocean and had got lost on his way back, and after 5 days of no land, he found a small island. He boat was in a bad way, so he decided to stay there a while. He had drunk himself stupid with red wine, again, and had woken up in a small room with 3 other men. He gathered the information that this was the Coliseum, a grand fighting tournament, with a big cash prize. They had taken his armor and weapons, leaving him with two short maces.

The first two men had been quite easy, then the wine had kicked in, making his battles harder and harder because of the splitting headache he had. He just wanted to finish this and get it over with.

The man ran at Sudran, who tried to move out of the way, but wasn’t quick enough, and got a slice through his arm as a reward. Getting angry, Sudran waited until the man ran at him again, then with a sickening thud, brought one of the maces straight into the man’s elbow, breaking it instantly. The man dropped his weapon and clutched his arm, bone sticking through the skin. Sudran finished him with a quick two blows to the head, killing him instantly.

He left the arena, with the crowds roaring behind him, wiping the sweat of his face. He shouldn’t have done that, he had ended life, all for money. Sudran walked through the doors into the canteen where people were sat with others, chatting and eating. He got himself a cup of water to try and get rid of the headache he had, and sat down next to the entrance, glad to feel the slight breeze on his face. He would wait here until the next time he had to battle, trying to get rid of his headache. Ten for some reasons someone came and sat down next to him.

‘If your going to talk to me, talk quietly’ Sudran moaned.

Merric was standing in a small room. In it was a table with a few weapons on it, and some Colosseum workers.

"Pick a weapon," they had said, "you are not allowed to use your own."

Merric had told them he didn't really have one, but he picked the weapon that intruiged him most; a steel bladed whip. It seemed to be about four feet long, and was made of little segments like that of a sword that were strung together by a strong cord, allowing flexibility.

When he asked who he would be facing, they replied, "In most of the first few rounds, just to test the contestants out, your'e up against criminals... people like murderers, etc."

Merric nodded in approval. It couldn't be that hard.

Moments later, he stepped into the pit of the Colosseum. Emerging from the other end was a husky looking criminal with a dirtied-up orange jump-suit.

"You're going down!" the criminal boomed.

Silently, Merric laughed. He highly doubted that. Tightening his grip on the whip, he waited.

The criminal charged, full force. Merric was pretending to act like he wasn't paying attention, so, the moment the criminal reached him and was about to punch him, he stepped sideways and flung out his whip. It struck him squarley in the stomach, leaving a small gash.

The criminal gasped and fought for air. Merric dropped the whip and raised his hands, calling one of his most faithful friends... plants.

They rose up everywhere, eager for instructions. Curling themselves around the criminal and raising him up ten feet in the air, Merric ordered them to crush his bones.

Visibly the plants grip tightened, and the more the man wailed in agony, the tighter they gripped. Finally, the man's head dropped down to his chin... he was dead.