Neverwonagame3
Self-Styled Intellectual
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2006
- Messages
- 3,549
Choxorn, why not just send PMs to those you don't suspect in future? That way, there's a least a chance that the agent doesn't know how much you know.
Dissentions V2.0 Game Thread
- Thread starter Tolis
- Start date
Ok This is the End of betting for night 2.
This night, as the warriors prepared to begin combat, the mood had changed. The first two battles had shocked the audience, as most of them had made their fame by fighting those weaker then themselves. Never had they seen such close battles, and the sheer ferocity of them no longer left them with mouths gaping. A blue, hairless Mutant approached the arena, and as he did, white protrusions began, oddly enough, to protrude from the flesh on his back. Some razor sharp, some barbed, and others coated in spikes. From his hands grew long spikes. With a shambling and unsteady gait, he paced slowly towards the portal. The Ronin, in his metal-studded leather armor showing wear from much use, checked to see his three katanas were secure at his left hip, and his gourd of sake on the right, as always. Walking down the stairs to the arena, he unfastened his drink, and after a deep gulp, proceeded to spit the remainder in the general direction of D’Artagnan, with a curse and a low challenge. “I spit on your honor, as you have already done mine. You shall die this day, abomination.” With that, and a quick glance over his shoulder, he was away into the arena, with the mutant just one step behind, after carefully dodging the stream of sake.
This time the scene in front of the masses swirled, leaving a mass of colors floating, not only on the ground, but also in the air. Whirlpools of color congealed into the shapes of high stone walls, sakura trees in full blossom, and a small koi pond, overlooked by a small, ornate wooden bridge. The clouded night sky provided no illumination. The only sources of light were the torches, mounted shoulder high along the walls and along the guardrails of the bridge. With a burst of color, the combatants were found in a small walled Edo-styled garden, and the perfumed scent of cherry blossoms filled the arena. The13thRonin stood casually, one arm in the sleeve of his kimono, and the other bent at the elbow inside, his empty sleeve flapping in the light breeze. The Mutant reached behind him, and removed one of his spines, and with lightning-speed hurled it at the Ronin. The Ronin stood there, as peaceful as one could be in mortal combat, and didn’t even try to evade the attack. A gust of wind, and a small cloud of dust were the only sign he had moved in any way, as the projectile was cut clearly in two, both sides passing harmlessly to the sides of Ronin, striking two trees. On bone sliver passed cleanly through the trunk of the tree, and was left embedded in the wall behind, the other sunk into a tree with such force that a shower of pink petals cascaded down and floated on the breeze. A brief smile touched D’Artagnan’s lips, ad he reached back with both hands, and removed two more projectiles.
The13thRonin leapt into one of the many trees, and vanished in a sea of pink. Not a moment later, two more bone spears followed, singing as they flew, but the Ronin has already shifted, a slight sway of branches the only evidence he had even been there. Two large branches fell to the ground, the sakura blossoms a moment later. The13thRonin leaned against a tree on the opposite side of the arena, sake in hand, lazily looking over the arena. “Too slow, you will have to do much better then that to catch me,” and with a bound, he zipped across the arena, leaving only a blur and a rush of wind in his wake, straight at the mutant. With a cut too quick for even the fastest reflexes, the Mutant’s arm left arm was separated from his body, and even before it hit the ground, Ronin was seen resting against the other wall. Green blood oozed from the severed limb for a moment, and then stopped. D’Artagnan simply bent down, picked up the still twitching arm, and placed it against the stump. A moment later, the fingers of the once severed hand stopped twitching and flexed once. Sidestepping towards the wall, the Mutant began to rain a flurry of projectiles at the Ronin, who simple stood in place, and cleanly cut each in half without a perceptible movement. The only hint that he had a weapon was a glimmer of reflected torch light off his blade. As D’Artagnan reached the wall, The13thRonin began his attack again, running along the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Or was he running along the wall? He seemed to be bouncing from ground to wall, ground to wall, impossible to trace his exact movements. As he reached his target, the Ronin let loose with a horizontal slash aimed at the Mutant’s throat. But the Mutant was prepared. The13thRonin’s blade became caught inside D’Artagnan’s throat which had been reinforced with a massive internal bone-armor in preparation, the flesh already mending itself around the blade. In a move surprisingly quick, the Mutant grabbed Ronin’s wrist, and the color started to drain from the Ronin’s face, far too quickly to be natural. With a gasp, The13th Ronin released the sword, and retreated to the other side, this time much slower then before, and leaned with one hand on the wall, breathing heavily for the first time this battle.
With a sickening sound, D’Artagnan removed the katana from his own neck, and held it awkwardly at first, unsure quite how to use the thing, green blood dripping down its length, killing small plants at his feet. He puzzled over the sword for a moment, before moving again. Striding over to the nearest cherry tree, he expertly reversed the blade and slashed through the thick tree trunk. A few seconds later, the tree fell, and the Mutant grunted at his new found weapon. The Ronin looked to be almost recovered, and glancing down at his lone empty scabbard, for the first time, the calmness of the Ronin’s countenance had faded for a moment. Then with a smile, he withdrew both swords, one held in each hand, with the left one held in a reverse grip. “So you aren’t entirely without bite after all. Too bad it isn’t enough.”
The Mutant responded with another thrown bone, and once again The13thRonin attempted to deflect it, but he was too slow. The spear did indeed split in two, but did not harmlessly pass by. One sliver left a gash in the Ronin’s empty sleeve, while the other stuck in his shoulder. D’Artagnan cackled, and The13thRonin looked confused for a moment. Why was his foe so happy over a minor wound? Reaching up to tug out the spear, he was brought to his knees. A barb had managed to latch itself around tendon and bone, and any attempts to remove it now would only cause further injury, and the angle of the spear left it impossible for him to cut down himself without removing his own head. Angered, the Ronin charged in, swords flashing, and the Mutant readied himself for the assault.
Flashes of steel on steel rang out in the night air, each strike landing on blade. How could the Mutant match the Ronin’s years of training and experience? A few scrapes were all that Ronin was able to land, and those seemed to heal just a quickly as they were inflicted. The weakened Ronin seemed hard pressed, and was forced to back down, one step at a time, to the bridge over the pond. It was there that Ronin missed his footing. Slipping on the wet wood, he dropped to one knee. D’Artagnan seized his right hand in his free hand, and once again the color began to drain from the Ronin, the sword slipping from his hand, only to be retrieved by the Mutant. Now with two swords the battle was over, a weakened Ronin had little chance defend himself, so with one last attack, he threw himself at D’Artagnan, swords flailing wildly. The Mutant just laughed, and with a single slice removed a few locks of hair from Ronin’s head.
A sudden kick from Ronin, and D’Artagnan lost his footing, pushing him face first into a torch and then into the koi pond. And then he screamed an unearthly wail that even dropped a few of the observers to their knees. As he stood up, the right side of his face was badly burned, dripping green blood. The clear waters of the pool had turned black, and many fish had floated up to the surface, belly up. Ronin smiled, and reached for the nearest torch and pulled it out, wielding like a club. He leapt at the dazed Mutant, and cleanly sliced off his arm, striking at the stump with the buring torch. The smell of scorched flesh even overpowered the cherry blossoms. In a purely reflexive motion, D’Artagnan swung wildly and knocked the remaining sword out of The13thRonin’s hand, and then sent him flying.
The Mutant screamed again, and this time, he exploded. Or perhaps a better description would be his weaponry simultaneously shot out in all directions, striking many trees, and sending a fog of pink petals everywhere in the arena, obscuring all sight.
When the flowers settled, the Ronin, with various pieces of bone sticking out of his body was seen standing next to the mutant, hand in hand. Literally, as The13thRonin held the severed of arm the Mutant, still twitching and clutching the katana, in his hand, dripping green blood over the Ronin’s arm. The acrid blood left horrid burns all over the Ronin, but he was beyond caring. D’Artagnan, still blinded by pain and blood, offered no resistance as the The13thRonin hacked off his other arm, and then doused him with his bottle of alcohol. A few moments later, with a torch added to the mix, and the Mutant was immolated, his own blood and alcohol feeding the flames. D'Artagnan dove into the water to save himself, and Ronin responded by locking his legs around the Mutants neck, keeping him under. As strongly as he struggled, already weakened by flames, he could not match the Ronin’s strength, so he did the only thing he could. Once again, protrusions began to grow out of his back, this time incredibly fast, piercing The13th’s Ronin’s legs in many places. Meanwhile, the remaining severed arm had stealthily creepy up Ronin’s back, and with claws as sharp as daggers began to attack his armor on his back, and not long after it, the unprotected flesh within. As the Mutant's struggles became weaker, the Ronin too felt the exhaustion from a protracted battle. Poison in his system weakened him, but still he hung on. Weak from loss of blood and weariness, he suddenly collapsed, head first into the water.
The scene exploded before the audience, and all that was left was a motionless The13thRonin on top of a Mutant, who was no longer twitching. The arm on the Ronin’s back dropped to the ground, while a pool of blood collected around the two. It would take doctors and healers many hours to repair the damage, and even in fact, just to remove the corpse from the Ronin, as he lived, if only just. Thus ended the story of the Mutant, who sought to challenge Honor incarnate.
This night, as the warriors prepared to begin combat, the mood had changed. The first two battles had shocked the audience, as most of them had made their fame by fighting those weaker then themselves. Never had they seen such close battles, and the sheer ferocity of them no longer left them with mouths gaping. A blue, hairless Mutant approached the arena, and as he did, white protrusions began, oddly enough, to protrude from the flesh on his back. Some razor sharp, some barbed, and others coated in spikes. From his hands grew long spikes. With a shambling and unsteady gait, he paced slowly towards the portal. The Ronin, in his metal-studded leather armor showing wear from much use, checked to see his three katanas were secure at his left hip, and his gourd of sake on the right, as always. Walking down the stairs to the arena, he unfastened his drink, and after a deep gulp, proceeded to spit the remainder in the general direction of D’Artagnan, with a curse and a low challenge. “I spit on your honor, as you have already done mine. You shall die this day, abomination.” With that, and a quick glance over his shoulder, he was away into the arena, with the mutant just one step behind, after carefully dodging the stream of sake.
This time the scene in front of the masses swirled, leaving a mass of colors floating, not only on the ground, but also in the air. Whirlpools of color congealed into the shapes of high stone walls, sakura trees in full blossom, and a small koi pond, overlooked by a small, ornate wooden bridge. The clouded night sky provided no illumination. The only sources of light were the torches, mounted shoulder high along the walls and along the guardrails of the bridge. With a burst of color, the combatants were found in a small walled Edo-styled garden, and the perfumed scent of cherry blossoms filled the arena. The13thRonin stood casually, one arm in the sleeve of his kimono, and the other bent at the elbow inside, his empty sleeve flapping in the light breeze. The Mutant reached behind him, and removed one of his spines, and with lightning-speed hurled it at the Ronin. The Ronin stood there, as peaceful as one could be in mortal combat, and didn’t even try to evade the attack. A gust of wind, and a small cloud of dust were the only sign he had moved in any way, as the projectile was cut clearly in two, both sides passing harmlessly to the sides of Ronin, striking two trees. On bone sliver passed cleanly through the trunk of the tree, and was left embedded in the wall behind, the other sunk into a tree with such force that a shower of pink petals cascaded down and floated on the breeze. A brief smile touched D’Artagnan’s lips, ad he reached back with both hands, and removed two more projectiles.
The13thRonin leapt into one of the many trees, and vanished in a sea of pink. Not a moment later, two more bone spears followed, singing as they flew, but the Ronin has already shifted, a slight sway of branches the only evidence he had even been there. Two large branches fell to the ground, the sakura blossoms a moment later. The13thRonin leaned against a tree on the opposite side of the arena, sake in hand, lazily looking over the arena. “Too slow, you will have to do much better then that to catch me,” and with a bound, he zipped across the arena, leaving only a blur and a rush of wind in his wake, straight at the mutant. With a cut too quick for even the fastest reflexes, the Mutant’s arm left arm was separated from his body, and even before it hit the ground, Ronin was seen resting against the other wall. Green blood oozed from the severed limb for a moment, and then stopped. D’Artagnan simply bent down, picked up the still twitching arm, and placed it against the stump. A moment later, the fingers of the once severed hand stopped twitching and flexed once. Sidestepping towards the wall, the Mutant began to rain a flurry of projectiles at the Ronin, who simple stood in place, and cleanly cut each in half without a perceptible movement. The only hint that he had a weapon was a glimmer of reflected torch light off his blade. As D’Artagnan reached the wall, The13thRonin began his attack again, running along the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Or was he running along the wall? He seemed to be bouncing from ground to wall, ground to wall, impossible to trace his exact movements. As he reached his target, the Ronin let loose with a horizontal slash aimed at the Mutant’s throat. But the Mutant was prepared. The13thRonin’s blade became caught inside D’Artagnan’s throat which had been reinforced with a massive internal bone-armor in preparation, the flesh already mending itself around the blade. In a move surprisingly quick, the Mutant grabbed Ronin’s wrist, and the color started to drain from the Ronin’s face, far too quickly to be natural. With a gasp, The13th Ronin released the sword, and retreated to the other side, this time much slower then before, and leaned with one hand on the wall, breathing heavily for the first time this battle.
With a sickening sound, D’Artagnan removed the katana from his own neck, and held it awkwardly at first, unsure quite how to use the thing, green blood dripping down its length, killing small plants at his feet. He puzzled over the sword for a moment, before moving again. Striding over to the nearest cherry tree, he expertly reversed the blade and slashed through the thick tree trunk. A few seconds later, the tree fell, and the Mutant grunted at his new found weapon. The Ronin looked to be almost recovered, and glancing down at his lone empty scabbard, for the first time, the calmness of the Ronin’s countenance had faded for a moment. Then with a smile, he withdrew both swords, one held in each hand, with the left one held in a reverse grip. “So you aren’t entirely without bite after all. Too bad it isn’t enough.”
The Mutant responded with another thrown bone, and once again The13thRonin attempted to deflect it, but he was too slow. The spear did indeed split in two, but did not harmlessly pass by. One sliver left a gash in the Ronin’s empty sleeve, while the other stuck in his shoulder. D’Artagnan cackled, and The13thRonin looked confused for a moment. Why was his foe so happy over a minor wound? Reaching up to tug out the spear, he was brought to his knees. A barb had managed to latch itself around tendon and bone, and any attempts to remove it now would only cause further injury, and the angle of the spear left it impossible for him to cut down himself without removing his own head. Angered, the Ronin charged in, swords flashing, and the Mutant readied himself for the assault.
Flashes of steel on steel rang out in the night air, each strike landing on blade. How could the Mutant match the Ronin’s years of training and experience? A few scrapes were all that Ronin was able to land, and those seemed to heal just a quickly as they were inflicted. The weakened Ronin seemed hard pressed, and was forced to back down, one step at a time, to the bridge over the pond. It was there that Ronin missed his footing. Slipping on the wet wood, he dropped to one knee. D’Artagnan seized his right hand in his free hand, and once again the color began to drain from the Ronin, the sword slipping from his hand, only to be retrieved by the Mutant. Now with two swords the battle was over, a weakened Ronin had little chance defend himself, so with one last attack, he threw himself at D’Artagnan, swords flailing wildly. The Mutant just laughed, and with a single slice removed a few locks of hair from Ronin’s head.
A sudden kick from Ronin, and D’Artagnan lost his footing, pushing him face first into a torch and then into the koi pond. And then he screamed an unearthly wail that even dropped a few of the observers to their knees. As he stood up, the right side of his face was badly burned, dripping green blood. The clear waters of the pool had turned black, and many fish had floated up to the surface, belly up. Ronin smiled, and reached for the nearest torch and pulled it out, wielding like a club. He leapt at the dazed Mutant, and cleanly sliced off his arm, striking at the stump with the buring torch. The smell of scorched flesh even overpowered the cherry blossoms. In a purely reflexive motion, D’Artagnan swung wildly and knocked the remaining sword out of The13thRonin’s hand, and then sent him flying.
The Mutant screamed again, and this time, he exploded. Or perhaps a better description would be his weaponry simultaneously shot out in all directions, striking many trees, and sending a fog of pink petals everywhere in the arena, obscuring all sight.
When the flowers settled, the Ronin, with various pieces of bone sticking out of his body was seen standing next to the mutant, hand in hand. Literally, as The13thRonin held the severed of arm the Mutant, still twitching and clutching the katana, in his hand, dripping green blood over the Ronin’s arm. The acrid blood left horrid burns all over the Ronin, but he was beyond caring. D’Artagnan, still blinded by pain and blood, offered no resistance as the The13thRonin hacked off his other arm, and then doused him with his bottle of alcohol. A few moments later, with a torch added to the mix, and the Mutant was immolated, his own blood and alcohol feeding the flames. D'Artagnan dove into the water to save himself, and Ronin responded by locking his legs around the Mutants neck, keeping him under. As strongly as he struggled, already weakened by flames, he could not match the Ronin’s strength, so he did the only thing he could. Once again, protrusions began to grow out of his back, this time incredibly fast, piercing The13th’s Ronin’s legs in many places. Meanwhile, the remaining severed arm had stealthily creepy up Ronin’s back, and with claws as sharp as daggers began to attack his armor on his back, and not long after it, the unprotected flesh within. As the Mutant's struggles became weaker, the Ronin too felt the exhaustion from a protracted battle. Poison in his system weakened him, but still he hung on. Weak from loss of blood and weariness, he suddenly collapsed, head first into the water.
The scene exploded before the audience, and all that was left was a motionless The13thRonin on top of a Mutant, who was no longer twitching. The arm on the Ronin’s back dropped to the ground, while a pool of blood collected around the two. It would take doctors and healers many hours to repair the damage, and even in fact, just to remove the corpse from the Ronin, as he lived, if only just. Thus ended the story of the Mutant, who sought to challenge Honor incarnate.
The Planeswalker has left the arena to get a breath of clean morning air. She smiles as she walks, but there's not much humor in it. Down by the river, several old women are washing clothes and gossiping about their sons' wives; it's clear that they at least have little stake in the outcome of last night's fight. They ignore her as she squats at the water's edge and and picks up a smooth, flat stone.
She sends the stone skipping across the water. It bounces six times before it sinks out of sight. Her smile disappears; she looks grim. Just about right, she says.
She sends the stone skipping across the water. It bounces six times before it sinks out of sight. Her smile disappears; she looks grim. Just about right, she says.
Good show Ronin.
Now for the up coming fight I'm betting 50 gold on the Mentor. I've always had a professional dislike of Necromancers, I mean I go through all the trouble to kill someone and the then come a necromancer and raises the one I just killed. It rather hurts my pride of being a professional.
Now for the up coming fight I'm betting 50 gold on the Mentor. I've always had a professional dislike of Necromancers, I mean I go through all the trouble to kill someone and the then come a necromancer and raises the one I just killed. It rather hurts my pride of being a professional.
Update the first post!
IC:
For a second, the barbrian was not sure who exactly it was that won. It almost seemed they had both died. Then it became apparent that the Ronin had won.
Good job, Ronin. But my teammate seems to lack any affiliation to the Imperium, so that makes me suspcious of you. Are you lying, or just very clever? Or both? I'll find out sooner or later. But for now, I cannot prove anything, so I'll do nothing for now.
IC:
For a second, the barbrian was not sure who exactly it was that won. It almost seemed they had both died. Then it became apparent that the Ronin had won.
Good job, Ronin. But my teammate seems to lack any affiliation to the Imperium, so that makes me suspcious of you. Are you lying, or just very clever? Or both? I'll find out sooner or later. But for now, I cannot prove anything, so I'll do nothing for now.
D'Artagnan59
The Gascon
Ghost Comment:
That's it, I'm haunting Ronin.
That's it, I'm haunting Ronin.
kill fire
Enormous Midget
Chandrasekhar, you will die!
D'Artagnan59
The Gascon
Ghost Comment: Ronin, you will now experience a fate much worse than death.
My ghost rickrolling you to sleep. Every night. Until you die/go insane.
My ghost rickrolling you to sleep. Every night. Until you die/go insane.
mythmonster2
BEC NOIR! RUN!
OOC: Yeah, ghost comments are overrated and stupid, not to mention useless.
Catharsis
catch u on the flip scythe
Meghghan Psquirrelstone had enjoyed that match-up, even if she hadn't voted for it - the combatants put on such a good show that she wasn't even paying attention to her sleep schedule. As a result, when the fight ended she fell forwards unexpectedly, hitting her head on an inconveniently-placed metal pole. For a few hours, she was genuinely unconscious. On the plus side, though, she landed on her CD player, so at least she can't play that Celine Dion CD anymore.
uhhhhh... where... where am... mis... mister fwuffums? i... uh
As her thought processes kick in, she begins to wake, checks herself, and immediately falls asleep again.
Hmm! A most excellent fight. And some discussion, too, while I was relaxing. I am most intrigued by this:
Now, I don't really understand what's been happening in private, but it sounds like either thomas.berubeg or Izipo has been spreading lies about his team-mates. I can't fathom why any of those four people would feel the need to team up to kill D'Artagnan, especially because, as we now know, he was innocent. I also don't see why D'Artagnan would lie about such a thing. So this suggests that either thomas or (my vote for today) Izipo is hiding something.
Unless I've misunderstood something, an explanation is warranted. And if no explanation is forthcoming, a fight against sirtommygunn is my suggestion.
uhhhhh... where... where am... mis... mister fwuffums? i... uh
As her thought processes kick in, she begins to wake, checks herself, and immediately falls asleep again.
Hmm! A most excellent fight. And some discussion, too, while I was relaxing. I am most intrigued by this:
mythmonster2 said:
Now, I don't really understand what's been happening in private, but it sounds like either thomas.berubeg or Izipo has been spreading lies about his team-mates. I can't fathom why any of those four people would feel the need to team up to kill D'Artagnan, especially because, as we now know, he was innocent. I also don't see why D'Artagnan would lie about such a thing. So this suggests that either thomas or (my vote for today) Izipo is hiding something.
Unless I've misunderstood something, an explanation is warranted. And if no explanation is forthcoming, a fight against sirtommygunn is my suggestion.
Allysian_Fields
Chieftain
"Perhaps is would be interesting to see the voidwalker take on the sacred fist? That would make for a good fight."
Izipo
Hardcore casual gamer
Wow, Ronin, that was some fight...
I hope you'll be better soon, go have some rest now.
And another one of our team chosen by the mark to fight ? Well, sorry KillFire, but your survival is no longer in the cards.
And Catharsis, I hear you... But why not go all the way and vote for me to fight Thomas ?
I hope you'll be better soon, go have some rest now.
And another one of our team chosen by the mark to fight ? Well, sorry KillFire, but your survival is no longer in the cards.
And Catharsis, I hear you... But why not go all the way and vote for me to fight Thomas ?
