Re: Epic Clash [Entry closed, 1st round later tonight]
02-05-2010, 01:43 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Baphomet.
Eight beings from different universes suddenly find themselves waking, without even knowing that they had been asleep. All were strapped to upright slabs in a row and, beyond the physical restraints keeping them in place, all found themselves completely unable to move their bodies, as though a great weight were pressing down on their chests.
Around them, blackness. Complete, all-consuming blackness, except for spotlights trained on all eight prisoners. It was suddenly pierced by a small sliver of white - teeth, revealed through lips parted in a pretentious smirk.
"Waaaaaaaakey wakey. You may be a bit disoriented right now. That's normal. You'd better snap out of it quick, though, if you don't want to be caught unaware by one of the seven beings next to you."
A man stepped out of the darkness and into a light that came from nowhere. Tousled hair, a red shirt with a pirate ship, and sunglasses. Sunglasses, in a world with no sun. He held his hands behind his back and walked up and down the row of beings, never letting that disgusting smirk leave his face; that smirk that seemed to delight in the fact that many of the people before him would love to try to snuff his life out right now if they could only move.
"That's right. Welcome to the Epic Clash. A battle to the death. Though you don't know it yet, all of you are here to kill. Seven of you are here to die. With each death, I take you all to a new location to let the carnage start anew. With each death, you survivors are one step closer to freedom, and your one greatest wish... as well as I can carry it out. You'll find most reasonable requests to be within my grasp, and yours, if you win. Your opponents are the people next to you. And do try to keep it entertaining, there are quite a few... 'people' who want to see an exciting fight. Let's get straight into the introductions, starting with you." He pivoted on his heel and jabbed his forefinger into the chest of the mostly human-shaped being on the leftmost slab. Only "mostly", as his head was unusually round and shiny.
"This strange gentleman is named Glere. No, your eyes are not deceiving you, he does indeed have a glass bowl for a head. I guess you'll see whether it proves easier to shatter than the average skull. You may notice the cape he wears. It's not so much a cape, as a space from which he can pull any number of items, useful or otherwise. We all look forward to seeing how well he wields them."
A slightly smaller man with undefined edges trotted in behind the first quietly. He held what appeared to be a notebook. As the first man moved to the next slab, the second stopped in front of Glere and began scribbling in it furiously. The first man, without turning to face the occupant of the second slab, jabbed his thumb into his sternum.
"This guy with the suit and the wings doesn't really have a name, but most just call him Mister Nothing. He is, in fact, a grim reaper. But don't worry, he's only part-time. Nonetheless, it would behoove you to stay on his good side, that scythe folded up in his belt isn't just for show."
He moved to the third slab, and the second man followed him to the second, looking between Mr. Nothing and his notebook as he scribbled some more. The first man gestured to an unusually tall asymmetrical mass of armor with a missing limb.
"Meet James Raven. He's an orphan, and not too happy about it. He's trained for most of his life in the arts of combat and shadow magic, he's got a magic suit of armor, a sword, and I understand he has a...shocking replacement for that missing arm of his. All in all, a very deadly combatant."
The shuffle continued, as the first man moved to the fourth slab, the second man moved to the third. The fourth contestant looked... well, rather ordinary, truth be told.
"Thomas Packston, or should I say Eric, Greg, Bern, and Walt? Don't be fooled by his tame appearance, this man's got four minds in that head of his, and each one has its own personality, its own strengths, and its own powers."
The second man began to scribble in front of Thomas, as the first moved towards a tall, thin woman with white hair and goggles.
"This adaptable woman is a survivor of a zombie uprising on her world, and with good reason. Her name is Michelle Davis, and I understand she's quite a shot with that rifle of hers." He looked her up and down, stroking his chin. He raised an eyebrow and his grin widened a bit. "Looks pretty flexible, too. Type of woman who could wear you out." He shook his head, as if suddenly snapping back to focus. "Right. Moving on."
He moved on to a man wearing medieval style platemail, the second man not far behind. "This knight in shining armor is called Emilio Nahaz. His quests are always epic, his travels all things of legend. Hearing the stories about him, you might almost suspect he were a bit more than human. Whether they're true or not, he's got a sword and I suspect he'll stick you with it if you cross him."
The first man moved to the next slab. The second frowned and looked up at him, still scribbling in front of Michelle. "Special Agent Coy Spender. An appropriate name for a man with a coin-operated magic machine. By which I mean, he has a machine that produces coins which can be exchanged for magic spells." The second man put a finishing flourish on whatever he was inscribing in his tome and moved on to Emilio. "We'll see how much it costs to destroy his opponents."
The first man continued to the last slab and the second seemed increasingly frustrated. "Asteira." He drew his lip up an a disdainful sneer. "Not my type. Anyways, she lied, cheated, stole, and killed her way to the top of an illustrious political career, and stole a lance which would seem to be rather powerful. Oh, did I mention that she died once, and that didn't stop her? It's up to you to find out if the second time does the trick." He stepped back to the center of the area, just as the second man moved on to Coy Spender and began to scribble with increased urgency.
"Without further ado, allow me to introduce your first arena of battle, and the last place one of you will ever see!"
The second man turned and spoke up for the first time, timidly. "Br... I mean uhm, Overseer! I uhm, I haven't finished chronicling yet. Can... can you wait?" The first man lost his smirk and lowered his eyebrows behind his glasses. "Um, I mean, I haven't drawn Asteira yet? If it's not too much trouble."
"It is." The second man put a few final lines onto the page with a dejected expression and hurried back into the formless shadows behind the first man, who stood silently with his arms crossed until the second had disappeared from view. "As I was saying, first arena of battle. I'll admit I have a weakness for places with a story behind them. Some lore." The blackness and everything but the other contestants faded, though the first man's voice remained. A blast of cold air hit the contestants as a network of blue stone tunnels came into view, with large ice crystals jutting out here and there. Icicles clung to the ceiling, but dripped steadily as they melted. "Welcome to Bluestone Cave, more recently referred to as the Ice Dragon's Lair, part of the Cavern of the Crimson Fish. Don't worry, the ice dragon in the name is no longer with us, having recently been taken out by an unusual hero. She was responsible for the cold temperatures in here, which were, until recently, far too low to allow any of you in here safely. They've begun to rise again, and only just exceeded freezing.
"Some say the rocks live in this cave. The claim would be laughable, but something must be maintaining the gravity-altering machinery around here. Oh, and the door at the entrance? You're welcome to try to open it if you want, but I've taken more than enough precautions to ensure the action would be futile.
"Now, we can't have you all starting out in the same place. That would end the round far too soon. Better to let you all wander the caverns alone for a bit, not knowing if your killer is around the next bend!"
All eight contestants heard the man laugh as their slabs all shot off in different directions. They flew directly through the rock surface and each contestant was immersed in darkness as they passed intangibly through the solid stone. When light returned to them, they found themselves separated from the other seven. The restraints and whatever strange force had prevented them from moving both released at the same time.
Eight beings from different universes suddenly find themselves waking, without even knowing that they had been asleep. All were strapped to upright slabs in a row and, beyond the physical restraints keeping them in place, all found themselves completely unable to move their bodies, as though a great weight were pressing down on their chests.
Around them, blackness. Complete, all-consuming blackness, except for spotlights trained on all eight prisoners. It was suddenly pierced by a small sliver of white - teeth, revealed through lips parted in a pretentious smirk.
"Waaaaaaaakey wakey. You may be a bit disoriented right now. That's normal. You'd better snap out of it quick, though, if you don't want to be caught unaware by one of the seven beings next to you."
A man stepped out of the darkness and into a light that came from nowhere. Tousled hair, a red shirt with a pirate ship, and sunglasses. Sunglasses, in a world with no sun. He held his hands behind his back and walked up and down the row of beings, never letting that disgusting smirk leave his face; that smirk that seemed to delight in the fact that many of the people before him would love to try to snuff his life out right now if they could only move.
"That's right. Welcome to the Epic Clash. A battle to the death. Though you don't know it yet, all of you are here to kill. Seven of you are here to die. With each death, I take you all to a new location to let the carnage start anew. With each death, you survivors are one step closer to freedom, and your one greatest wish... as well as I can carry it out. You'll find most reasonable requests to be within my grasp, and yours, if you win. Your opponents are the people next to you. And do try to keep it entertaining, there are quite a few... 'people' who want to see an exciting fight. Let's get straight into the introductions, starting with you." He pivoted on his heel and jabbed his forefinger into the chest of the mostly human-shaped being on the leftmost slab. Only "mostly", as his head was unusually round and shiny.
"This strange gentleman is named Glere. No, your eyes are not deceiving you, he does indeed have a glass bowl for a head. I guess you'll see whether it proves easier to shatter than the average skull. You may notice the cape he wears. It's not so much a cape, as a space from which he can pull any number of items, useful or otherwise. We all look forward to seeing how well he wields them."
A slightly smaller man with undefined edges trotted in behind the first quietly. He held what appeared to be a notebook. As the first man moved to the next slab, the second stopped in front of Glere and began scribbling in it furiously. The first man, without turning to face the occupant of the second slab, jabbed his thumb into his sternum.
"This guy with the suit and the wings doesn't really have a name, but most just call him Mister Nothing. He is, in fact, a grim reaper. But don't worry, he's only part-time. Nonetheless, it would behoove you to stay on his good side, that scythe folded up in his belt isn't just for show."
He moved to the third slab, and the second man followed him to the second, looking between Mr. Nothing and his notebook as he scribbled some more. The first man gestured to an unusually tall asymmetrical mass of armor with a missing limb.
"Meet James Raven. He's an orphan, and not too happy about it. He's trained for most of his life in the arts of combat and shadow magic, he's got a magic suit of armor, a sword, and I understand he has a...shocking replacement for that missing arm of his. All in all, a very deadly combatant."
The shuffle continued, as the first man moved to the fourth slab, the second man moved to the third. The fourth contestant looked... well, rather ordinary, truth be told.
"Thomas Packston, or should I say Eric, Greg, Bern, and Walt? Don't be fooled by his tame appearance, this man's got four minds in that head of his, and each one has its own personality, its own strengths, and its own powers."
The second man began to scribble in front of Thomas, as the first moved towards a tall, thin woman with white hair and goggles.
"This adaptable woman is a survivor of a zombie uprising on her world, and with good reason. Her name is Michelle Davis, and I understand she's quite a shot with that rifle of hers." He looked her up and down, stroking his chin. He raised an eyebrow and his grin widened a bit. "Looks pretty flexible, too. Type of woman who could wear you out." He shook his head, as if suddenly snapping back to focus. "Right. Moving on."
He moved on to a man wearing medieval style platemail, the second man not far behind. "This knight in shining armor is called Emilio Nahaz. His quests are always epic, his travels all things of legend. Hearing the stories about him, you might almost suspect he were a bit more than human. Whether they're true or not, he's got a sword and I suspect he'll stick you with it if you cross him."
The first man moved to the next slab. The second frowned and looked up at him, still scribbling in front of Michelle. "Special Agent Coy Spender. An appropriate name for a man with a coin-operated magic machine. By which I mean, he has a machine that produces coins which can be exchanged for magic spells." The second man put a finishing flourish on whatever he was inscribing in his tome and moved on to Emilio. "We'll see how much it costs to destroy his opponents."
The first man continued to the last slab and the second seemed increasingly frustrated. "Asteira." He drew his lip up an a disdainful sneer. "Not my type. Anyways, she lied, cheated, stole, and killed her way to the top of an illustrious political career, and stole a lance which would seem to be rather powerful. Oh, did I mention that she died once, and that didn't stop her? It's up to you to find out if the second time does the trick." He stepped back to the center of the area, just as the second man moved on to Coy Spender and began to scribble with increased urgency.
"Without further ado, allow me to introduce your first arena of battle, and the last place one of you will ever see!"
The second man turned and spoke up for the first time, timidly. "Br... I mean uhm, Overseer! I uhm, I haven't finished chronicling yet. Can... can you wait?" The first man lost his smirk and lowered his eyebrows behind his glasses. "Um, I mean, I haven't drawn Asteira yet? If it's not too much trouble."
"It is." The second man put a few final lines onto the page with a dejected expression and hurried back into the formless shadows behind the first man, who stood silently with his arms crossed until the second had disappeared from view. "As I was saying, first arena of battle. I'll admit I have a weakness for places with a story behind them. Some lore." The blackness and everything but the other contestants faded, though the first man's voice remained. A blast of cold air hit the contestants as a network of blue stone tunnels came into view, with large ice crystals jutting out here and there. Icicles clung to the ceiling, but dripped steadily as they melted. "Welcome to Bluestone Cave, more recently referred to as the Ice Dragon's Lair, part of the Cavern of the Crimson Fish. Don't worry, the ice dragon in the name is no longer with us, having recently been taken out by an unusual hero. She was responsible for the cold temperatures in here, which were, until recently, far too low to allow any of you in here safely. They've begun to rise again, and only just exceeded freezing.
"Some say the rocks live in this cave. The claim would be laughable, but something must be maintaining the gravity-altering machinery around here. Oh, and the door at the entrance? You're welcome to try to open it if you want, but I've taken more than enough precautions to ensure the action would be futile.
"Now, we can't have you all starting out in the same place. That would end the round far too soon. Better to let you all wander the caverns alone for a bit, not knowing if your killer is around the next bend!"
All eight contestants heard the man laugh as their slabs all shot off in different directions. They flew directly through the rock surface and each contestant was immersed in darkness as they passed intangibly through the solid stone. When light returned to them, they found themselves separated from the other seven. The restraints and whatever strange force had prevented them from moving both released at the same time.