Spring Tournament, Round 1

by **Magpie** on April 12th, 2013, 2:21 am

It was a bright, sunny day, without a single cloud marring the sky. The air was warm and humid, but not oppressingly so. The perfect day for a fight.

Gideon Area was packed with spectators, some young, some old, some women, some young Akalak men too injured to participate. Word had spread like wildfire around the city, to the point that Gilaman had Kuvay’nas stationed around him at all times, despite his protests, to keep every other man on the street from jumping on him.

As the contestants entered the preparation chamber on their respective sides of the arena, they found a sturdy wooden replica of their stated weapon of choice. Picking it up, they would find it heavier than expected – each had a steel core to give it a realistic weight.

Out on the arena floor, in the center viewing box on one side of the arena were tournament judges: Nevar Chivan and Commander Nodorus, head of the Kuvay'nas. Gilaman the Jaw Crusher was not a judge, but sat at Nevar’s right. On the other side of the arena were the other judges, Ismail Bahram and Mizra Aqdas, Grand Masters of the Tuvya Sasaran and Kendoka Sasaran, respectively.

As the contestants neared the center of the ring, the crowd cheered for their favorite, creating an undulating roar until Nevar stood and cast up his hands for silence. After a moment, he raised his deep voice to echo throughout the stadium.

“Welcome Rivarians. Kuvan and visitors, friends all. Our esteemed guest, Gilaman the Jaw Crusher, has called this tournament to test the mettle of Riverfall’s warriors. Are we able to meet this challenge?”

The crowd’s deafening assertion echoed from the stadium to the entire city.

“Combatants!” Nevar lowered his hands to indicate the pair at the center of the ring. “Without further ado – Begin!” A shrill bell sounded once, and the battle was begun.

by **Loken** on April 18th, 2013, 7:16 am

Riverfall was buzzing with the news of the prideful scandal. Loken could feel it coursing through his very being as he held the wooden replica of a Tiger Hook Sword in his right hand. Its balance was perfect though distinctly heavier than he had anticipated when he first gripped the weapon. Having devoted himself to finding balance in life through martial prowess it was all an innate reaction to accept the challenge. Though why did he feel so out of place. Before walking out into the center stage of the arena Loken began to cut the air with the wooden weapon in his hand to calm his nerves. Loken's entire appearance was made perfect for the public with black hair properly combed, pants washed, though he decided against to go completely bare chested since he only had the one shirt. His head was bowed as Nevar Chivan spoke, his eyes closed as he listened intently. When the arena erupted into thunderous exuberance, Loken began to control his breathing. Taking a deep inhale to calm his mind and exhaling when the bell sounded to begin. His head lifting as his eyes opened and focused onto Vanator.

Without word he initiated his attack, swiftly crouching low with his right foot forward and swinging the wooden Hook sword to try and snare one of Vanator's heel's at the achilles tendon. It was a a simple attack aiming to try and trip the man to the ground.

by **Vanator** on April 18th, 2013, 2:26 pm

Vanator surveyed the crowd, hefting the sparring weapon in his hand, testing the battle axe's weight and balance. The Drykas huffed at the irony. He, a Denusk, called a warrior of Riverfall. But the horseman had fought to defend Riverfall, made Sanctuary his home, and had made peace with his own prejudice against the Akalak. So Vanator had applied for citizenship.

How he came to be in the tournament, that was Riaris' doing. His friend had convinced him it was what a warrior should do, playing on the Drykas' pride. So Vanator found himself in the Gideon Arena, turning to face, of all people, Loken.

As Vanator scuffed his boots against the sandy ground, shrugging his shoulders and bouncing lightly to loosen up, he looked the man over. He knew Loken, though not well. The men were very different, and had found common ground difficult to find. The Ano cultist was a man guided by logic, the Drykas, by passion. Vanator also knew that Loken was a man devoted to his martial traditions.

The crowd was silenced. In the moments before the bell sounded, Vanator assessed his opponent, seeing how the man focused. But the Drykas did not direct his attention to Loken's eyes, or to his strange weapon, he watched his shoulders, drawing an imaginary line across them horizontally, another line intersecting that went from his neck to his navel. This 'T' was the focus of Vanator's gaze. Eyes and weapons lied, but the physics of movement did not.

The bell rang out, and Van saw Loken's momentum shift immediately, the black-clad man lunging forward. But the Drykas did not expect the strike at his ankle, his responding crouch and sudden drop of his axe not fast enough to counter the younger man's unexpected attack. The hook of the tiger sword snagged the heel of Vanator's boot and the snap back of Loken's strong arm pulled the Denusk's foot out from under him. The Drykas fell backwards onto his back with a grunt, jerking his foot free of the weapon. Loken was still too close to give Vanator time to scramble to his feet. Holding the ax defensively in both hands, one under the head, the other near the end of the haft, Vanator rocked and used his raised leg to create the momentum to forward into a low crouch. His right hand shot forward, his torso twisting to put power behind it, the end of the ax haft aimed at the outside of Loken's left knee.

by **Magpie** on May 6th, 2013, 12:27 am

Abruptly, a bell sounded twice, stopping the combatants in their tracks. Nevar stood once more and held up his hands for silence in the cheering stadium. "Combatants, the round is over. You've both fought bravely and with great skill, but there can only be one champion." As he spoke, an Akalak youth sprinted across the arena floor, from the second judging table to Nevar's. Commander Nodorus took a slip of paper from the child, nodding slowly at its contents. He slipped the paper in front of him to Nevar. Nevar held up the paper, Gilaman craning his neck to see it as well, and set it back down again. "By the judges' decree," his voice filled the stadium as the crowd held its breath. "Vanator Denusk is the winner! Loken, you have the city of Riverfall's gratitude for participating in this tournament. Vanator, take rest and prepare; your next competitor will meet you in short time."

Only the closest observer would have noticed the way Gilaman swallowed anxiously as he watched Vanator and Loken leave the arena floor.

OOC Notes :

by **Magpie** on May 13th, 2013, 1:32 am

e

Vanator :

Loken :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, please don't hesitate to PM me.
e

Closed Spring Tournament, Round 1