Greymuzzles Administrator Gaurdian of the Warrior Lands member is offline
Call me Grey. Ruler of the Warrior Lands
Joined: Dec 2007 Posts: 846 Location: England Karma: 9
Light Tourni - Rounds 2,4,6,8 « Thread Started on Oct 30, 2009, 3:48pm »
Ooc: Sorry for not posting this sooner, but I lost track of the date >.< Please visit Sign-ups to see the match-up.
Bic: Avinir practically danced into his chosen place when he heard Arukas clap his wings together. He was overjoyed by the prospect of seeing the best of his comrades face up against each other and the wolves of the other packs, and now that he held this honor, he found that all of the hard work of the past few months was well worth the effort. Keza! Whitefang! Quicksilver! All three were at the very top of the Ileat, and all three would be fighting in the rounds judged by him.
“Let the contestants gather – Rounds two, four, six and eight here!” he sang out soon after the Ezalbs call came, his voice showing how eager he was for the tournaments start.
He whipped his head off to one side as a faintly amused cough sounded nearby, and blinked down briefly at the stern expression of the white commander – whose head barely reached his shoulder. She remained there for no more than the time it took to look over those who had gathered around Avinir and his ring before she leapt down to take her own place amongst the contestants. Still, her silent warning had been clear enough, and Avinir had caught up the foolish grin that had begun to worm its way onto his face. Such behavior would not do for the clans second in command.
Leave it to Quicksilver.
“Apard Raven of Enol-Tenmele and Lone Ophelia to the ring” he called out, indicating his the circle that had been scratched into the earth with a sweep of one wing.
Ooc: You may bring any character to watch the battles, as long as they are not currently fighting in the other thread.
« Last Edit: Oct 30, 2009, 3:55pm by Greymuzzles »
Re: Light Tourni - Rounds 2,4,6,8 « Reply #1 on Nov 23, 2009, 4:49am »
"Beggin' yer pardon. 'Scuse Fellow. Away, if it please ya." These admonishments were hardly necessary. Most of the audience members caught a whiff of the pungent perfume of disease and decay that clung like smoke to her cigarette canvas before she reached them. Nostrils flaring with the foul odor, they stepped instinctively to the side. Even the most intimidating wolves- characters who were all beef or bristling with studs and wings and scars -parted like curtains in two smooth, urgent backward steps. Ophelia held her head level as she passed them, ears heavy with the concerned whispers that circled sharklike about her. Rarely did the neon yellow of her eyes move from the ring up ahead. When she did cast a nervous glance at the wolves around her, they flashed like a crosswalk sign in headlights, looking dangerous for their color.
As her paws came to rest at the edge of the battle ring, Ophelia cast a shrewd look over the crowd, searching for Zenadia's bright blindfold and the pool of coffee that was Fisher's face. Neither could be found in the bubbling mass of wolves that surrounded the arena. They had been separated shortly before she was called to the fight. Jitters swept over her as she took in the gleaming flood of faces all around. Some of these people were only ragtags who'd grasped the opportunity, like her. But others, especially the ones from Enol-Tenmele, had the look of polished veterans, and their high expectations made her queasy. Why did they have to shove her into the first round, and against- she swallowed dry- an E.T.? Why couldn't she spend the first few an indistinct member of the audience, where she was comfortable? Where her repulsive face wouldn't--- but no, that was wrong. Ophelia's sores were momentarily healed thanks to her leeching only two nights ago.
If all went well, Fisher too would revive. After she and Zen learned of each other's participation in the tournament from a blackbird sent to summon them, they convinced the brown wolf to come with them. According to Zen, Enol-Tenmele clan was sure to have a healer handy at the tournament in case of any accidents. While they likely wouldn't be able to help Ophelia's condition, they would surely be able to mend the multiple gashes she had left in Fisher's lower back and hind leg. Without medical attention, they told the injured wolf, his wounds would almost definitely become infected before they reached the Frozen Lands. (At this point Ophelia had fallen into a silent, growling sulk that hadn't lifted until they reached the tournament.)
Steeling herself, Ophelia stepped slowly into the ring, surprised by the encouraging roar that came from the crowd. She stopped just before the arena's midpoint and stood with bated breath, waiting for her opponent to appear...
Greymuzzles Administrator Gaurdian of the Warrior Lands member is offline
Call me Grey. Ruler of the Warrior Lands
Joined: Dec 2007 Posts: 846 Location: England Karma: 9
Re: Light Tourni - Rounds 2,4,6,8 « Reply #2 on Nov 24, 2009, 10:51am »
Zenadia curled his lip as the crowd jostled him forwards, frustration slipping up to stamp itself onto his face. The three wolves had entered the clans territory together after the blackbird had sought them out, and even stepped up, together, to find out which ring they would be fighting at, but now neither the wounded male nor the ‘diseased’ female whom had been his companions were anywhere in sight. Somehow the crowds had pushed them apart from each other, and now he could not even see their heads within the crush. Of course, under normal circumstances this wouldn’t really have bothered him, but he still felt that he owed them. Even if Eratospaine was healed by the clans wolves, it was fairly certain that they would not be able to do anything for Ophelia.
The crowd surged forwards again, sweeping him along like he was nought more than a leaf on a river, and his lip curled further, fur bristling along his spine. “Enough! his bark was lost within the general chatter, but it was loud and sharp enough to jerk his neighbours heads towards him, curiosity flicking onto their faces. He knew that they had registered his the curl of his lip by the widening of their eyes, and, though he would usually have left it at that, he found that the rest of the crowd continued to push them forwards, headless of his warning. The black wolf gave a snort and clamped his paws into the ground where he stood, bracing his legs into columns in the process. He did nothing more than glare and refuse to budge, but after a short while the throng he was in realized that they could not push this obstacle further forwards and began to break around him.
“Apard Raven of Enol-Tenmele and Lone Ophelia to the ring” His ears shot up as the call swept up over the noise of the crowds, containing the name of one of the two he sought. Now he knew that he needed only to make his way to the front of the crowds and he would be able to find her, for everyone else was struggling forwards to find some kind of vantage point. Now the black wolf consented to being pushed forwards, even lent his weight to help his throng along. Hopefully Eratospaine would be with her already; it would save them both a lot of trouble.
At last he met up with the backs of those who had already grasped ring-side seats, and cast his head this way and that to see who was before him. Unsurprisingly, they were mainly Enol-Tenmele wolves – lean, well muscled, forces to be reckoned with - but there was a smattering of guests who had managed to push their way into gaps. He made for one such group of individuals, pushing his way right into their midst. Once there, he countered their glares with an apologetic grin, carefully lying his fur back down as he settled himself into the spot he had just stolen from their front. Then, because they were glaring at his back, and because he was pleased to see her safe and well, he let loose a shamelessly loud “There’s my girl! Go get ‘em Ophelia!” the moment he caught saw her step into the ring. A broad smile broke onto his maw as he watched her move forwards, and despite what he tried to tell himself, only a small piece of it was a result of the glares shifting into smiles (why begrudge this blind wolf for wanting to be within the sight of his friend – mate – sister – daughter… - whatever she was to him?)
Of course, Zen himself was pretty certain that Ophelia would tear him to shreds for the way he addressed her, and the ownership it seemed to imply, but he could deal with that little problem latter.
-------
It took a few moments for her to register that she had been called up to fight, but the moment she did, her ears slipped back to lie flat against her head, sudden fear lighting her eyes. Raven was curled in amongst her usual group, head resting lightly on Shadows back as she watched Ophelia step into place in the ring. She pulled her head up, staring at the lone who was to be her opponent and silently wishing that she had never agreed to enter. She wasn’t afraid of the female she was to fight – in fact, deep down she was fairly confident that she could win – but she felt the pressure pressing down on her even as she was coaxed to her paws by her friends. By being the first Enol-Tenmele into the ring, she knew that she automatically became the clans representative, and that their reputation fell squarely on her shoulders.
The black and white female cast her gaze round the group of wolves who had shared the last few years with her and found herself more relaxed as she saw the encouragement on their faces. She gave a nod and padded forwards, feeling courage flood into her as each nearby clan member cast her a nod, encouraging smile or gently brushed their snouts against her as she passed them. Their message was simple; just do your best.
As an Apard, she was not expected to reach the higher levels of the tournament, or even win her rounds, and she knew, as she stepped into the ring and felt the collective support of those clan members who were in this crowd, that they would be proud of her as long as she showed everyone here that she wasn’t a pushover.
“Incendia…..for once in your life, listen to me. – Please.” The demon grumbled a soft reply to her silent request, and ,though there were no recognisable words, she felt she could trust him to work with her this time. His pride was on the line now.
“Close the ring.” This was Avinir, his voice booming out over the crowds and bringing an eager silence over their chatter. His call was immediately answered by four wolves, each of whom took up places around the ring that corresponded with the east, west, north and south points of a compass. There was a moments pause as they settled into their respective places, and many in the crowd shifted restlessly, eyes fixed on the roughly scratched-out circle that marked the perimeters of the ring. The wait lasted until Raven had come to the centre of the ring and halted at Ophelia’s side, her head held level with her shoulders as she looked up to where the General was standing.
“Good luck Ophelia.” She murmured as the earth just outside the circles outline lifted from free from the ground, causing several wolves – Zen amongst them – to jerk back in shock. The earth formed a thick wall all the way round the ring, and its inner side was swiftly enveloped with a web of white that grew to form a solid shell of ice, thus ensuring that neither wolf could be pushed through the earth wall. A grim smile curled across the clan wolfs jaws as a faint hiss sounded all around them, and her head jerked to one side, blue eyes following the curtain of fine water that had just risen outside the ring. This rouse higher than the walls had done, and stood as a transparent shield between the crowd and the fighters, and a final defence against the fire that the clan knew she wielded.
“Contestants gain victory by pulling submission from their opponent or leaving them unable to fight. Powers may be used by both fighters, but excessive force is strictly forbidden. Any attempts to kill or mortally wound your opponent will earn you an instant disqualification, and the healers may call an end to the round at any time – if they feel that one or both will be in danger if they continue to fight.” Avinir flicked his muzzle towards the healers who had spread themselves around the ring, making sure that everyone knew who and where they were.
“You may begin the round whenever you are ready”
Raven cast a final nod to the other female before she circled around to take up a place on the opposite side of the ring. Once there she cast on more glance towards her friends, brother and master, and then braced herself for an initiating attack from her opponent.
Ooc: Long post -.- I’m going to apologize now for the poor quality of Raven’s roleplaying. I haven’t used her for awhile XP
« Last Edit: Nov 24, 2009, 11:02am by Greymuzzles »
Re: Light Tourni - Rounds 2,4,6,8 « Reply #4 on Dec 7, 2009, 1:46am »
ooc: If I'm correct, I never entered the Light Tournaments...I've entered in the Dark Tournaments, and I said I WOULD be able to enter, but I am short of a Light wolf, so therefore I'm not in this tournament.
Re: Light Tourni - Rounds 2,4,6,8 « Reply #6 on Dec 22, 2009, 1:45am »
A voice she knew sliced through the hum of the crowd like a knife through cheese. Whirling, Ophelia pointed her slim, savage face at the source of the sound- none other than Zenadia. At first she could only stare, neon eyes round as rolls of police tape. Only moments ago she'd have been relieved to find him, but now, faced with his grungy crimson blindfold and that broad, foolish grin, an entirely different emotion took hold. Every coarse, ashen hair on her 93 pound frame quivered as she spat her reply.
"Your girl?" She roared. The jumbled conversations of the audience evaporated into a comical ooooooooh as a colorful sea of canine heads turned. "Ye dare brand yer own name 'cross Fellow's face? Be tha' bloody cloth so loose yer memries done tumbled out? Fellow begs ye recollect th'reason it be still 'boutcher skull! Who's tongue lashed Fisher inta service when yer own lazing leftchye hapless azza babe in th'snow?" With every sentence Ophelia's accent grew thicker, eroding the peaks of once sharp words until her monologue was a barren wasteland that even a skilled linguist could get lost in. "If'n ye 'arbor any 'lusions tha' Fellow needed yer meddlin' ye've a sore state o' mind! 'Twas Fellow fixed ye up tha' eve, Fellow y'be owin' a favor to, an' she b'longs nummore t'ye than she does t'them trees she leeches! 'Ware th'second she getsoutta this 'ere ring, Zenadia, for when she does---"
Suddenly the walls of the arena erupted, and Ophelia leapt back with a frustrated snarl as flecks of dirt sprayed into the sky and a gentle voice bid her fortune. Rotating to face the inside of the circle, she finally saw her opponent, Raven. She offered the blue-eyed wolf a curt nod as the sheet of water rose around the arena. Ire in her bloodshot eyes, Ophelia twisted around for one last look at Zen, his face liquid and warped now.
"---we'll see where the ownership lies," she said, keeping her accent between her clenched teeth.
The contenders of the second round watched each other, walking opposite sides of the field as the audience warmed up. Most were shouting the E.T.'s name, but a few decided to take the side of the short-tempered loner with the bloodshot eyes, who was not without her own quirky charm. These diverters of convention raised their voices in chorus as Ophelia abruptly traded her slow pacing for a lunge across the packed dirt. Her body was a silver-brown blur as she leapt at Raven, bringing her forepaws up to try and latch onto the female's haunches while her jaws gnashed.
OOC: You have no idea how fun it was to write her rant! I guess we'll hook Erato up with a healer when Celtic comes back? Also, could you give me a link to Raven's bio so I know how well matched they are physically? I can't seem to locate it.
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