Morning, Day 6
The sun rose and the crowd cheered. A new battle was taking place, in the light. It was ironic that the Courtesan was going to fight now, and the crowd knew it. She knew it too, and it was evident in the manner she took the stage - with a smile with teeth that glittered like jewels under the sun. Waving at the audience, she secured the undying love of a good quantity of young bachelors, old bachelors, and even married men, who could now finally fulfill the medieval idea of courtly love. She giggled innocently at all the attention, which was also ironic.
The Sculptor was pretty ironic too, or at least his creations were. The crowd had been wondering how he fought - actually they were pretty curious about the Courtesan too, because both were characters that would normally be associated with a less violent life. Well, here was the answer. Following the Sculptor was a little army of golems, several of them - actually, three of them. They lumbered along the ground like machines. Their master was a small, stocky, balding man with a short clipped white beard and a pair of eyeglasses perched on his nose, which made him look pretty much a regular customer for the Courtesan.
A bell chimed, and reality started to shift when it stopped suddenly. "Hold on," said the Courtesan. "I need to finish putting my makeup on..." A wave of rolling eyes rolled through the crowd. "There, all done," she said, after a brief pause. "Let’s go," she said, pressing her makeup into the hands of a court official, who swore he would never wash his hands again.
The second time reality shifted, the combatants found themselves in a dark alley. It was the kind of place where the Courtesan hawked her wares. The dumpster was, in this time period, the entire floor, so trash littered the place and rolled around like tumbleweeds. Although the sun was out, the buildings were too tall and the fighters were obscured in shadow. The alley was also narrow like anorexic girls.
"Get her." The Sculptor’s voice, normally normal, sounded downright ominous. The three golems stomped in front of him and advanced slowly towards the figure of the Courtesan. She slowly backed up and then tripped on her heels, hitting the floor. She slid backwards as the golems came closer.
"Hey, come now," she said, her voice wavering. The Sculptor bit his lip but did nothing. The middle golem stepped out and raised his fist to crush his opponent, who let out a bloodcurdling scream. It was the scream of terrified girls everywhere, and protective men’s blood boiled in the audience. The Sculptor called the attack off, yelling and waving his arms.
"Got ya." The Courtesan suddenly leapt into the air and disappeared into the shadows above. Landing on a golem, she jumped off it and flipped a little flashily in the air, landing on her feet. The golems, struggling to turn around, instead crashed into each other and reached a deadlock. Then she took off like a Bannor off to vanquish evil. Homing in on her target, she took out tiny knives, the edges tinged with green. The Sculptor hardly had time to blink before she arrived, slashing his chest with the miniature knives. She leapt back well before his dilatory punch whiffed the air.
The Sculptor grimaced at the wounds but remained upright, showing no signs of weakness. Indeed, his face said: look, I was only slightly inconvenienced by your attack. Bring it on. Suddenly, a darker shadow obscured the already dark alley. The Courtesan whirled around and saw a golem, poised to attack. She leapt to the side, bounced off a wall, and landed on top of the golem for the second time, sitting on it like it was giving her a piggyback ride. Her hands moved, hitting all of the vital points, but the golem hardly dented. She resorted to simply unscrewing the head, which took quite a bit of work. When she did so, the golem deactivated and slumped to the ground, rather suddenly. She went down with the golem, which had the rather pleasant effect, for her at least, of causing the second golem’s horizontal slash to miss, a worthy trade for twisting an ankle upon her landing. She whirled around to face the golem and leapt, despite the pain it caused her, into the air, unexpectedly leaping right into the golem and rebounding up into the air, where she straddled the walls with her legs. She shuffled along up there like a spy and perched on a convenient ledge, unseen.
The Sculptor moved to his broken golem, lying on the floor. Assessing the situation, he determined that he could maybe repair it. Getting to work, the Courtesan seized the initiative and leapt down, moving like a hawk. The second golem, however, who had been keeping watch, bent over and deflected the blow by grabbing her leg as she kicked. It then threw her down the alleyway, where she tumbled and then landed on her head, then rolled and skidded to a full and complete stop a couple of yards further down. Not even her worst clients had given her this abuse, she thought. Blood was oozing everywhere. The Sculptor stood up and moved behind the second golem, using both of the golems as bodyguards.
Picking herself up, the Courtesan ran, blood trailing behind her like skywriting, except you had to be from a bird’s eye view to see it. It said: "|". As she approached the golems, she slid as if she were stealing a base, right under the golem’s legs, missing the Sculptor, who had the sense to sidestep. Getting up, she quickly turned around and kicked the second golem in the knee joint, causing it to lose balance and start toppling backwards. The third golem caught the second golem in time, but the Courtesan deftly performed the same knee-bending trick on the third golem and it fell forward, losing its grip of the second, which fell too. Both had the misfortune of landing on their master, utterly crushing him. Somehow, his arm stood out from the wreckage, moving desperately, calling for help that he knew would not come. The Courtesan acted as the exact opposite of a mechanic, dismantling the golems to the best of her ability. She then sat on top of the wreckage and watched the Sculptor slowly get crushed and suffocate to death. The crowds took bets on which one would happen first.
Neither, as it turned out. When his hand went limp, she got up and extracted him from the rubble. His body was bruised from the crushing weight of his golems and his head was literally split open. Somehow, he was still alive. She cradled him in her arms and kissed him, then laid him on the floor, where he died.
Spoiler :
There was a lot of golem wreckage to clean up after the bell tolled, and there was the Courtesan too who had conveniently fainted over her fallen opponent, so it took a while before the official with the proclamations could take the scene. When he did, he was clearly irritated at the delay and injustice of having been kept waiting.
"The upcoming evening we will have the pleasure of seeing the Raider face the Marksman wherever he so chooses."
Evening fight: Marksman vs Raider, Raider gets arena choice.
It is now day.
All contenstants, vote for combatants for the next morning's fight.
People with day abilities, send me PMs.
Combatants, send your battle ideas to LightFang!
Betting is open for Marksman vs Raider. Place your bets in BOLD dark orange.
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