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The Iron Dynasty, DeLaRose Role Play Group » Rose Gladiator Tournament 2018 » Arena Entrys

Arena Entrys

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1 Arena Entrys on Thu Feb 15 2018, 13:19

Anaya

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To partake in the contest the first challenge is to be accepted into being a combatant of the tournament there are 16 slots for people to fill and to get there you start here. Place a 1 minimum paragraph size 12 font typed out post of your best work. please make sure it is your best work you may go as large as you like but not smaller then the minimum requirement listed. once submitted you will not be allowed to edit it so make sure it is your best work before you hit enter. if a edit is seen to have been done it will result in disqualification.

Setting for All submission posts is
A Large castle made of stone, oak and iron beams, the day is bright over cast but there is a light mist and fog clinging to the ground, it is morning, dawn the sun is just peeking over the horizon, there is a woodland to the east, river to the west and what looks like the sea in the distance, there is a chill coming over the air from there and the light smell of salt. You have come to the castle for some reason (you can wing it on why you are there think of something neat) there is a beautiful garden out front and a large court yard, men are fighting in it sparing one another for sport. guards are training, large horses and sheep graze freely. But at the doors you see blood running inside the building, and once you get to the doors the building stinks of blood and rot. There is one dead guard inside the castle doors and one partly dead guard muttering unclear words of how his mother was so and so and you cant make out the rest. (inside past that point is up to you to describe, have fun with it and show me your best. Feel free to npc if you like and set up a whole thing for your post)
NOTE: You do not have to use this made setting, you can wing it fully yourself if you wish to, the choice is up to you on how you want to be seen in your entrance, setting is only given for convenience it does not have to be used if not wanted. but please make all entrances fantasy medieval and the rpc you will use for the arena. Entrance does not have to be a combat entrance, it is an example of your best work and nothing more, but do with it as you please.

- Please post your post in this thread not anywhere else
- Once there are over 30 combatants posted in to this thread the admin team will start going over posts to pick out the top 16 players Entrances will be skimmed but not gone over in full detail till 30 or more entry's are posted
- A list of the 16 players will be posted when they are sorted over, not before this
- No words will be given to the admins thoughts, do not come to us asking how you did we will not tell you If we are being nice we will say "you did good" we will say that to EVERYONE even if you did badly it is not a representation of how you did
- Admins will not be picking favorites or accepting bribes, if you did good you will be picked on your post, if you try to bribe an admin to pick you the admin is allowed to take your bribe then disqualified you, don’t bribe admins.
- Once the list of the accepted combatants is posted a note will go out to there inboxs that they have been accepted in
after that a tree graph will be posted on who is fighting who, the fights and who is ageist who is random, if you get plotted ageist a player you don’t like fight them or back out, if there is a player that you really don’t want to fight but don’t want to back out please contact lead admin (Anaya) and we will see what we can do, if we cant do anything and inform you we cant it is up to you if you want to fight them anyway or back out making them the automatic winner by default.
- Only accepted players have to submit bios to lead admin (Anaya) please do not send bios in until you know you are accepted into the leading 16 or not
- If there are questions please message lead admin (Anaya)

Signed Anaya

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2 Re: Arena Entrys on Thu Feb 15 2018, 13:20

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Wraythe entry
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As the rocking of the large ship moved back and forth, a large man who had paid for passage slept soundly, while others on the ship were on bad footing and some retching over the side. As the call came for land he opened an eye and let out a long sigh, swinging himself out of his small hammock to land upon the boards, his heavy stature causing a thud to sound as he did so, he then proceeded to wrap his arms to his biceps in a black bandaging, pulling a coat over his shoulders before strapping a set of light gauntlets to his forearms. After he was dressed he made his way off of the boat and into the surrounding wilds, keeping to himself as he traveled, his looks alone keeping most away from him, on his back he carried a set of two longswords, no other weapons seen, though the chill through the air near him let everyone know he was finely attuned with ice and frost. The large man was walking slowly and let out a small sigh, the air around him becoming heavy and seeming as if it were humming, the man was collecting energy inside of his being, a special type of magic that not many knew, with a fluid motion he placed his heavily armored foot down, leaning forward he then pushed off, the shockwave from the sudden explosion of energy from his foot pushing the leaves of various trees back away from him while his form shot forward at such a speed it was difficult to see, the only sight that stood out was the black and white hair that sprouted from his head. He traveled like this for a fair amount of time before showing up at a rather nice looking castle, at least from the outside, he had heard about possible work here, or at least the promise of coin, he passed through the large courtyard, collecting a few gazes from the men training, and the various animals keeping their distance, as he reached the doors a sickening smile crossed across his features, the familiar scent of blood and rot. "Ahhh, lovely, seems i'll be having a bit of fun in this place" He then pushed open the door and looked about at the bloodied scene in front of him, and with the half dead man he knelt down and dug his fingers into the wounds he had sustained, enjoying the sound of the sweet scream that erupted from him, but he didn't end the mans life, he instead walked off and let him suffer. The bloodstained interior was a sight for sore eyes, reminding the large man of his days as a castle crasher, being hired to take out certain families and destroying their lands, and with no others really around he decided to wait around and see if anyone else would make their ways here.

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3 Re: Arena Entrys on Thu Feb 15 2018, 13:22

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The thrill of battle called to Lucian as he flew across the air with saddlebags across his back his lupine and dragon sences open smelling the garden and seeing the castle through the light fog but under the scent of the flowers he could smell it. Blood and rot and corpses. He landed with a heavy thump and shifted to his human form dropping the bags at his feet full of metal clanging and scraping. As he was putting them down he heard the words of his mate temple how they buzzed in his ears pleading hed be careful and he would chuckle hearing them replay over and over. He also thought of his family his father and mother if they knew where he was what he was about to take on. He unzipped the holdalls and he smiled grabbing his famous weapons. The lore swords He would take three for this tournament. Each blade was made with an adamantine mix of dragon fang. Incredibly light and durable these blades could cut through most steels and irons and even magical barricades like a warm knife through butter. They themselves had special properties being sleipnir the fang of the four winds. It was a longsword that would be strapped to his hip that when unsheathed would unleash the fury of the four winds themselves without the use of magic or an incantation. He would then remove narmun the fang of flame. This blade took the form of a spear blade and shortened shaft made from enchanted rowan wood to be nearly unbreakable the blade was the same mix and the shaft could elongate and collapse at will and once it was willed the blade would burst into flame to add a burning mix to his attacks. The last weapon to be removed from his hold all would be sahrotar the fang of storms. This one was special to him. He was given this fang from his father well adopted father. The dragon who had raised him taught him to harness the power of the storm to ride the way of lightning he never forgot the day he received the fang and the eldunari that accompanied it. The soul of his adopted father sahrotar. Now he needed his armor and defences. He slowly pulled on his dragon child armor. Made from the scales and bones of ancient dragons and adamantine chain mail they were a force to be reckoned with if hit with an elemental attack it had a chance to rebound on their opponent. He stood at six feet when he was willing to stay up straight with grey scaled skin. He was a nephilim dragonling. His power was easy to define. He controlled five elements but two could be combined to make a sixth. He was graced as a dragon to be adept at using lighning fire and metal based attacks. He could also wield holy and demonic energies. He could combine his nephilim magics to create the grey. The grey was an element that was creation incarnate that if the opponent was hit it would be a tossup of what would happen for creation was not linear it was opportunistic. With his dragon biology he had increased durability due to his scales and his metal manipulation allowed him to create a sort of exoskeleton to increase his survivability and defence. And he held the stomach and lungs of a dragon allowing him to consume the elemental attacks and if it was made of metal physical attacks by literally biting through the blade and chewing the metal. He also had increased strength speed stamina and his armor barely weighed on his body the last few things he pulled from his bags was a shield made from dragon plate scales forged into a crown shield with a black dragon insignia and a book to read between bouts. The book would be titled "lycanthropy and combat applications". He suffered from the affliction of lycanthropy and could control his changes but the book could help him further learn how to control himself while in his beast form so now that he had all his gear the bags disappeared he turned after snapping on his cloak hed walk through the doors his mask suddenly snapping to his face to conceal most of the scent as he pulled a chainmail hood over his silver hair and he saw one other there but he chose to ignore him for now and he simply sat down putting his belongings to the side and began flipping through the book waiting for the rest to get there and begin the bout.

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 01/26/2018 07:24PM by Guest_LucianNorthLyca.

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4 Re: Arena Entrys on Thu Feb 15 2018, 13:22

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Kafziel Enty.
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Sitting upon a questionable comfortable seat the large man sat watching out from the coach. The sounds of the horses pulling the heavy weight along filling his surroundings. He quietly sat alone in the wooden couch his legs crossed over eachother. With his elbow he leaned on the wood at the open window his chin resting upon his palm. It was still early in the day and he had not fully woken up yet from having tried to sleep in the ever rocking coach. He came from the east and the sun was in his back. It was easy to the eyes not having it shine into his eyes while he was still not fully awake. The salty wind a delight together with the sun piercing through the light mist. A beautifull sight to behold. A imp,minor demon, would stop the horses pulling on the reigns as it then with a mid toned screech called to the one inside. For a servant it was a bother that it could not use a more word based language. The screeching often got on his nerves. Kafziel letted out a sigh and brushed off the dust that had fallen on his shoulder. He places his hand against the small door and bended over stepped outside stretching his arms out with a minor yawn. The gold he wore over his bare chest reflecting some of the light into his eyes as he turned around and watches back to where they had come from. Nothing in the area seemed familiar except for the woodland they had passed through. Woodland always looked the same in his eyes however. The imp which had stepped from the coach would lower its head to the man and then fall into mist turning into a black marble which flew underneath his skirt and into the pocket of his pants. The uses of the dark arts were most convenient when travelling alone. The horses which had been pulling the coach all this time he letted free so they could join the other horses and graze from the grass. The coach itself would quickly starts to rot, or rather it was aging rapidly untill only a rickity mess was left which had seen better times. He watched it fall apart with some minor interest and responded in his own way."It would be wise to invest in a coach that does not need magical aid to be of use."Turning his head to the start of the large courtyard he then smiled and with a casuall step walked over its borders. The men sparring with eachother did not seem all that bothered with his presence. A few quick glances that he returned pointed him on the way to notice he stood out. Dressed only with a skirt, pants, boots and gloves he certainly was different from the other men. Giving them a quick nod before he whent his merry way he passes them qyickly to go to the large castle ahead. The closer he would come to it less he enjoyed the salty scent of the sea nearby. It was being replaced by an iron scent that he could recognize as blood.A horrible mixture of scents to be around. Once he was close enough to notice he could see blood was on the doors leading into the castle. A dead guard was smashed through it and was now limpless inside the castle doors like some kind of sick ornament. Another would be nearby it and still twitched enough to be called alive. His steps became larger the closer he came to the near dead guard untill he reached running speed. A good few feet before he arived he already fell to his knees and slided untill he was kneeled next to the almost dead guard. He picked him up lifting him close enough to hear if anything was left to say before he passed. There was indeed some muttering. His hand grabbing on to his shoulder while he forced as many of the words out as he could. It was involving his mother. A young man it seems ,to young to be married and close to his mother, it was a pity that his life was ended so soon. His golden eyes gave away a dark shine as the last twitching occured before the young guard was limpless in his arms. Laying him to rest on the ground he rose to his feet. Some blood had found his way on his upper bod, staining the gold hanging from his neck and his normally flawless looking skin. Of all things perhaps that bothered him most of all, an aspect of pride is vain more so then any other. He reached down for the dirt of the road and started covering his palms with it while he moved to stand at the center of the doors. The pool of blood he stood in staining his boots.It was clear whatever happened began inside and still is going on perhaps. He reached out and from the blood a black figure rose untill from it covered in blood the Sculptor Of Trembling Hands came out. A strong name for a scythe he owned, and as it should be for he does not accept mediocre. Moving the scythe in his grip to find a comfortable hold on it he started to open the doors. The blood certainly did a good job lessening the sound of the wood scraping over the floor. His eyes stayed peeled for anything that moved, but inside it was dark. The windows were covered by dried blood, how it got there he did not yet know. What he knew was that something horrific had happened. Snarling to his right indicating that it certainly was not something human. The sound of the beast sounded most like an echo from the distance. He did not turn quickly not expecting anything to jump on him. Seeing how the space got bigger towards the snarling he guessed it was the throne room that he would be heading to. Now that he had walked out of the pools of blood his steps finally starting to fill the castle. The eary silence and occassionall snarling made for a pleasant first stay already he thought to himself. The echoing sound in the snarls had dissapeared for a deeper tone of the beast. When he finally got to see it it stood near the throne. The body of a well dressed man being torn apart by the neck with blood covering a nearby window that already dripped with remants of flesh and blood."Disqusting."He mutters to himself as he lowered the scythe till the metal tip hitted the floor. With light tapping making a echo fill the throne room he got the attention of the monster. Eyes a deep red with a pale skin and raggy clothes covering it he was easy to recognize.A vampire on a bloodfrenzy, and a youngling at best. Perhaps a wanderer during its transformation taken in turning for the worst. He letted out a sigh and straightened himself out. His eyes stayed on the vampire that looked at him in return like he was the next meal. He moved his foot back and with both hands he holds the scythe tightly as he prepared for a fight. It was however a small one as the vampire lunged at him it left itself wide open only thinking about eating. Sidestepping to the right he simly had to bring down the sharp end of the scythe and cut its head off. The head would roll ahead into the shadows and dissapear while the body twitches upon the ground violently."How sad."He remarked as he stepped to the throne and took his seat looking over the interior of the castle covered with blood and remants of flesh. A nice sight to watch as he moves his right foot along with a tune he started to whistle as he waited for someone to come along.

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5 Re: Arena Entrys on Thu Feb 15 2018, 13:24

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The stallion's hooves came down upon the earth with a complete disregard for what lay under each resounding step. Bones crackled and popped as mud and blood squelched beneath the monstrosity, but it could not be fairly said his carnage and that already present could be any worse for those whose lives had been lost. The animal's breaths streamed hotly into the cool air, fog within fog within the mystery of those slowly seething currents. Black as Nyx's bosom herself, the immense destrier moved with a sinuous grace no ordinary steed might have accomplished, and indeed the creature's supple backbone gave the lie in what at first glance might have seemed just a rather intimidating warhorse. The beast's body was tightly muscle-bound but it's mane and tail remained unfettered, left to hang and, for the tail at least, drag in the blood and gore left underfoot. Equally as dark as the horse was the tack that bound him, black leather masking hid all but redly glowing eyes and a partially agape jaw betrayed the suggestion of elongated tushes. A thin ropey drool laced downward from that mouth full of gnashing teeth, and it steamed in the chill air. Across the steed's neck arched a cleverly crafted neckpeice that in it's uniquely reticulated pattern protected the arching swell of what clearly upon closer inspection would have been a male of it's species. From there the blackened leather seemed curved to fit over withers and haunches almost as if born to the beast himself and it moved with him as surely as a second skin. Strung across withers front to back were the only true anonomly, strands of what looked to be ivory trinkets. These tinkled merrily in each heavy step of the animal wearing them. Upon the beast's back sat a rider cloaked in darkness himself who also moved with his mount as if a part of it. His unbound hair and the horse's mane would seem almost of the same make. The air sifted the horse and rider's hair in complete disregard for what was taking place beyond them, captured on currents of air not in alliance to those beyond them at all, making both appear a dream unfolding in their mutual advance. Or, more fittingly, a nightmare come to life. The rider's coldly beautiful face was pale and stern, unsmiling, his eyes almost hidden beneath lowering brows, a slashing gleam of ice as he took in the carnage their further advance revealed in each of the horse's deliberate steps. The steed carried them both in to the castle's main courtyard and the sound of those being left behind them slowly muted. Insanity prevailed here in that any could seem so unaffected by the massacre that had clearly overcome those within the walls while those without continued the pattern of all the days before as if nothing untoward had ever happened, for here, within the courtyard, it was clear few if any could have survived the plague that had come in the dark to destroy those within. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, many ripped and torn indecently asunder as if by some great rabid beasts. Ah, plague indeed. The rider doubted seriously any who had lived here had known what would come for them. He had but to reach for the knowledge to have it sent back to him none had escaped. Even those behind them who had seemed intent on training were doomed, set to hack and to parry until their strength gave out and they fell where they stood, never to rise again. The rider cued his mount and the steed ceased his forward momentum to stand blowing and tossing his head, baring his fanged teeth but responsive as ever to the wishes of his master. About them both the air coiled and seethed with renewed energy, and the hair of the dead began to writhe beneath it's invasive touch. It was time to allow the others with him their freedom and for him to set loose their rapacious appetites. When they were done, and gone, none would remain save the desperately toiling men outside. Those would not survive to tell the tale of the fall of the foolish.

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6 Re: Arena Entrys on Thu Feb 15 2018, 13:24

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As if it came from the mist itself a dark silhouette formed within the light mists depths as Nefas approached the castle. The place seemed to be a regular castle at first though if one were astute there were signs something was amiss, namely the normalcy of it. it seemed that way at a distance but even now in the early evening hours if you drew near things would quickly catch the attention of even the most oblivious of people, the stench of blood and rot would be impossible to miss. When Nefas advanced over the threshold it became all the more obvious a massacre was within the walls, hence the stench. He paid no mind to the mumbling half dead man, muttering of mother, and even less mind of the dead guard, aside from a slight scoff. The potent scent of clove which Nefas exuded cut cleanly through the smell of the filth near it as it advanced single mindedly to the center of the courtyard, as if to put himself on display. Standing thirteen feet the young shade towered over most, his “skin” vanta black, playing tricks on the eyes of most. His flesh appearing as little more than a silhouette no matter the angle, this fact robbed him of nearly all perceivable detail. This effect was worsened by his adornments. Springing from his brow was a rack of horns, resembling the ones you would expect to see upon the head of a demon, indeed most people would mistake this beast for one. His face was mostly obscured by a broken mask, aside from the fractures and missing left ocular region, the missing fraction revealing naught but the darkness of his flesh, the mask itself seemed to be a black broken scrying mirror. If you were brave enough to stare you might be consumed by vain praising of ones self, like some twisted tale of Narcissus. Nefas’s is hair quite long, it was down to his ankles and kept back behind his shoulders, raven black it caught the light quite nicely to the opinion of most. Around his neck fashioned a rather wicked gothic looking choker, seemingly made of leather this too of course was black. His neck was also graced by three Petrian crosses, which both pendant and chain were made of obsidian. His pauldons were styled after raven skulls, completely covering his shoulders, a black mamba snake winding through each of the skulls, these also looked to be obsidian, and masterfully crafted with no detail spared or neglected, all immaculate replicas. Manica also coated both of his arms, leaving no perceivable chink or weakness to behold, and the tiny plates lapping over each other in a delicious way that accentuated the arms in such a way as to imply a wicked musculature. Each finger tipped with ludicrously sharp claws. Their entirety immaculately crafted, and pleasing to the eyes of nearly all, seemingly more works of obsidian art then armor. The left arm had been decorated further around the bicep a bit of leather, emblazoned with a silver Petrian cross, and around his wrist a rosary, this too of course Petrian. His chest aside from the hanging pendants of his necklaces was left bare, a taunt of sorts, as if a tip of the hat to the roman gladiators of old, a bold taunt to any foe. His tasset which was tightly bound around his waist was an open leather skirt, though seemingly oiled and polished the upper half in exceptional shape while the tails bore the brunt of the damage age and degradation. His legs shielded within what seemed to be the same obsidian material of the rest of his armor, these of course also tightly fitting and generally pleasing to behold, his grieves too fully enclosed offering excellent protection from any angle of attack. Once he reached the center of the courtyard he stood completely still, waiting some sign of his first battle which was to happen, Nefas knew what he was here for, to prove itself “worthy” the gifts it had been given, to reap the souls of the worthy and spread the darkness of night.

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