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It was the screaming that attracted Infineon’s attention first. Until this chance encounter Infineon’s day had been going peacefully, waking up to continue his travels towards the next village. The village in question was a small, sleepy fishing village that was nestled inside the bounds of a small wood. The one road that lead to it was a thin, winding track that was as unassuming as the people who used it; all in all, this village was the kind of place that Infineon enjoyed visiting. Today, however, it would be the scene of a baptism of fire for another creature into the world of Darkness Incarnate.

The source of the screams soon manifested itself as a group of women and children who came running down the path towards Infineon. Infineon stood aside as the group sped past, sparing him barely a glance as they traced the track back towards the closest town. As they past him, however, one woman called out to Infineon:
“If you value your life, I wouldn’t continue to our town. A risen warrior wandered into our village today, and though our men held it off while we escaped, there can’t be any of them left alive by now…”
With that, the woman hurried to catch up with the fleeing group. Infineon, on the other hand, completely ignored the advice of the villager and hurried on up the path to see the true extent of this monstrous defilement of nature’s laws.

As he came around the last bend in the road and onto the main street of the town, Infineon’s bile rose in his throat. Scattered along the abandoned main street were the shattered corpses of the men who had stayed to defend the village. Necks bent to sickening angles, makeshift armour torn to shreds and huge flesh wounds on each end every one of them; dead, all of them completely dead. What was already a horrific scene took on a darker shade when Infineon noticed that the flesh wounds were not caused by any conventional weapon, but were actually caused by the jaw of a human as it tore of chunks of flesh and severed arteries. Looking around him at the mutilated corpses of these innocent villagers, Infineon’s rage grew to the point where his normally pacifistic approach was overshadowed by his need to avenge these villagers’ deaths. Finally, Infineon’s roving eyes focused on the one moving humanoid that remained in the street, a repulsive hulk of unholy resurrected flesh that was hunched over what was clearly its most recent kill.

Infineon, finding the target of his rage, spoke something which sounded like an un-word and slashed his hand in a slice through the air. A sparking rent appeared in the fabric of creation, and from it Infineon removed Artemis, ready once more to serve its master. Armed and ready, Infineon shouted out a demand and a challenge to this lowly creature; he would give it a chance to defend itself before he executed it himself.

“Stand, you worthless creature, and defend yourself! In the name of Zoltan I will determine whether you are worthy to live. Pray to whatever god maintains your unholy life; pray to them for mercy, for from me you shall receive none!”
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Infineon is standing about 50m away from Barley.
Levitas will not be participating in this battle.
Feel free to introduce yourself to the battle in any way you see fit, and fear not, I shall not be executing your character; not this battle at least!
Good luck.

(Sorry for the amount of time this took for me to complete. I've been working on research projects with one of my professors and I've either been busy or tired. Plus, this came out a little longer than I expected.)

It had barely been daybreak when Barley Soup had wandered up to the village. Many citizens were finishing breaking their fast or dressing themselves, preparing for a long yet leisurely day. A few fishermen had been up early enough to try and get to their boats for a lazy session of pre-dawn recreational fishing before the actual work began. Children and wives were running around, doing chores and spreading gossip. A faint, erratic beat could be heard throughout the town; the sort of music you only hear from a settlement working perfectly through an idyllic routine.

Funny how zombie stories always seem to start in places like this, yeah?

It had been a group of children who had noticed Barley Soup first. A tall, thick, pale man had emerged from the trees, following the coast. He hadn't spoke, barely moving quicker upon viewing the children. The reason behind his slow pace was apparent, with one of his legs was being all but drug behind him. The man was dressed in full leather armor, with his dark hair matted and greasy underneath his leather cap and his tired, sunken eyes barely acknowledging anything. His boots were covered in sand and mud and something that had a smell vaguely reminiscent of fish guts and skin rot; a smell all too familiar with the many sons and daughters of fishermen in these parts.

So when the tired, lumbering man had came upon the village, the obvious choice was to harass him. The children had run around picking up stones and sticks to pelt at the man. Words quickly followed. “Ya stupid drunk!” “Have a fun night, you lame urchin?” “You look like you could use a bath! Sea's the other way, gimp!” The man attempted to reach out to grab the children, but he was just far too slow and clumsy. After a few attempts, the man stumbled and fell down. The children, proud in their defense of the town, nodded at each other and took off, prepared to save the world in other fictional ways.

Barley Soup worked to pick himself back up. He wasn't in the greatest condition right now. It had only been a few hours since he was risen, and everything was still settling in. The magic animating him, lacking a master to direct it, was proving to be rather unreliable, and his own rotten muscles and nerves didn't help. He was feeling slow, he was feeling weak...

He was feeling hungry.

It had been hours since his last meal. That man of the cloth he had eaten had been oddly filling and comforting, and now Barley was starting to feel his stomach clench up in annoyance. It was time to eat, it screamed. Find me a meal now.

Barley had finally managed to make it into the town's borders, staring blankly at all the people running about. Something about them didn't feel as... filling. The priest from earlier definitely had less meat, Barley's brain was barely able to reason, but he had this feeling of being much more appetizing. Trying to piece this inconsistency together was more academically rigorous than anything Barley had been forced into since his raising, and as such he had been forgetting to move.

The villagers, however, had not. Many looked at the odd, sickly man with worry or concern, hoping that his disease didn't spread. Many of the children looked at Barley, planning their next raid on the newcomer. Almost five minutes had passed before one of the men walked by.

This man was a fairly recent arrival to the town, having found it on his many journeys. He had once been an adventurer of minor renown and warrior of basic skill, exceptional only in the amount of travel he had put into his life. As such, he was extremely worldly, knowing much of foreign lands and obscure magics. Often, the children would crowd him, asking for stories of old kings, bloody wars, insane wizards and magic swords. In a town such as this, magic was almost unheard of. That's why it took this one man to look at Barley Soup before shouting.

“THE RISEN DEAD! MEN, TO ARMS!”

He had taken off, back to his hovel in hopes of grabbing his weapon and shield from the hiding place under the floorboards. Unfortunately, his yell had roused Barley Soup from his thought-inspired trance. Worse, it had given him a target.

Barley took off after the man, but it became immediately apparent to the zombie that his speed was much lower than this warrior's. His rotten leg was slowing him down, and his stiff joints weren't helping. Groaning in hunger, his pure instinct yelled at his legs, insisting they give up more speed. And they answered.

Mid step, Barley's leg surged with tainted power; magic that would normally animate flesh and bone instead reinforcing it, and he ended up flying through the air, landing with a crash onto the escaping man. The entire ordeal had lasted scant more than half a minute, and still the villagers stood in shocked silence. That soon ended with Barley Soup's first bite.

Sweet, sweet bliss. Warm and moist, chewy and hearty. Every area of the body was a new meal. The satisfying sound of snapping and crunching accompanied Barley's search through the man's chest, eventually finding some of the best organs. The liver was first, then the stomach, then the...

*WHACK*

Barley's head was shoved deeper into the man's mutilated chest as a club was raised once more, followed by another downswing. Men had been visiting their homes, gathering what meager weapons they had at their disposal. Women gathered their children, elders, and whatever things of value they could carry. Screams and vomit filled the air, some quieting as they noticed a savior bashing the head of the fleshie.

After a half-dozen swings, the hero relaxed his arm, peering down at the monster from behind his wooden shield. It had stopped moving, not even a single twitch from its arms and legs. It simply lay face down, head nestled somewhere in the bloody mess of his first victim. The brave man closer, giving the corpse a little kick in the side. Maybe he would be the village hero now, he though. Maybe this would qualify him as a seasoned warrior, enough at least to brag about how he had conquered a man who Death itself could not.

He was halfway through his smirk when Barley Soup reached over, grabbed his leg, and snapped it clear in half.

Half an hour later, the village was mostly deserted. A few had chosen to barricade themselves in their homes where most had run. Many sailors had taken boats had taken out of port and sailed off, in hopes of waiting out the threat or getting to a nearby town to ask for help. The dozen men who had stayed behind to fight Barley had done admirably, landing blow after blow on the undead menace. Eventually, though, the zombie had outlasted them and feasted.

It was then that Infineon had showed up, just as Barley had started into the twelfth man. Through the sound of his own loud eating, Infineon's words had only insignificantly buzzed in his ear. He shrugged it off and went back to his meal.

Nice first post! Keep up that level of writing skill and you’ll be passed in no time at all! Just make sure to try and post in a few days of your opponent’s last post or they might become (justifiably) irritated at your lack of activity. I have no real critique for your first post though, well done.

This post is a tad harsh for a training battle, but let’s see what you’ve got. In your post you should include both a defensive and an offensive action (I don’t mind if it’s a special or not), but do try and not get impaled on your second post

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At the other end of the street, Infineon’s target raised its head for a moment in recognition to the sound, and then continued to devour the flesh of its target. This display of nonchalance in the face of a challenge did nothing to calm Infineon’s rage towards this creature.

“So be it”

In an instant Infineon accelerated to nearly full speed, with his rage and his thirst for justice powering his already formidable speed [Lightning Speed] Infineon hurtled down the street at a speed that would make it difficult to track him. Add to that the electric blue trail of light that trailed behind Infineon’s movements, and he was making quite a spectacle of himself.

When Infineon was about 20m away from the creature, he lowered the head of his halberd forward and aimed it directly at the creature’s chest. This strike would be easy enough to dodge if the creature was paying attention, but Infineon was using this strike mostly to test the waters and see what kind of fighter his opponent was.

Finally, just as Infineon came within distance of his opponent, he thrust Artemis forwards with all the strength and momentum of his charge behind it. The force of the charge would impale Infineon’s opponent to the wooden wall behind him if he didn’t dodge or block the strike, and the distance that the spear put between Infineon and his opponent meant that a direct counter would be unlikely to even get close to being harmful to Infineon.

-----------------

Infineon is , as described, most of the length of a polearm away from you.

Stress: N/A

(Sorry, again, for the lack of activity. I end up doing research a lot of the day and either forget or am too tired to remember to post. Hope this is fine for my first combat action.)

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Somewhere, deep within the healthy parts of his brain, Barley Soup was starting to put the pieces together.

Someone had shouted. Yes, ok, that had happened. What had they shouted? Something about... Sand? Sand and... a worthless feature? Perhaps there was some home that boasted sand as a selling point? No, shouted some other section of the brain, the rot has clearly gotten to you. It said 'Stand, you worthless creature!' Well, that was rude, thought the first part, then turned its efforts back to deciphering the rest of the message.

On a much more... surface level of his brain, Barley was finally able to recognize someone had spoken! Speaking meant people! People meant meat! Meat meant... meat!

A disgusting, slopping noise could be heard by anyone left alive as Barley dropped some now-unidentifiable organ and turned to face his newest morsel. This morsel, however, was fast. Really fast, and coming right at him. Barley almost threw his arms out and got to his feet, intending to rush up and embrace his next meal. Almost.

Something that was very unlike his brain started speaking up at this point. It communicated with Barley in ways he could understand. He saw images play through his mind. A man, with a pointy stick, was hunting a big cat. The man lowered his spear and charged forward. The cat, almost lazily, had just reached out with one of its massive paws, and batted away the spear. The man, now a babbling, incoherent wreck, barely made it a few steps away before the other claw followed, ripping through his back, his spine, and ultimately his life.

"Do that," the voice commanded, then tugged Barley's vision down.

One of Barley's victims had dropped his weapons upon his attempted escape, and they were now at Barley's feet. They were nothing to write home about; a club fashioned as more of a carving project than an actual weapon and a shield that was more picket fence than defensive tool. They were what was available, though, and the voice was being very insistent, showing Barley scenes of using the reach and defense offered by these tools to open way into a new all-you-can-eat buffet.

There was no time for Barley to strap the shield on, though. So Barley's only course of action was to make due. Up came the shield, the strap being gripped by rotten fingers. Up came the club, clamped securely by a reanimated fist. Up came Barley Soup, twisting his torso and flinging his left arm out, shield first. The shield would make contact with the point of the halberd, leaving a deep cut in the shield, and thrust it out of the way.

Sadly for the living, Barley Soup was not an expert at... controlling his momentum yet. The shield continued through on it's arc, arm powering the rest of Barley's torso through the spin. The man was close, Barley could see, and he felt his right arm twitch. Out came the club and, being pulled along by the force of Barley's spin, traveled around and down, aiming straight for the head of Barley's next meal.

Well done, your edited post is much better than what you had before in terms of clarity. The specifics you wove in make it much clearer what your actions are.

You will notice that I noted a skill and a special use in this post. I’d like you to use a special in your next post to show that you know how to use them and also so that you can decide how you notate the use of a special, as there is no ‘set’ method for denoting where in your post in a special happens. Also, you should get ample opportunity to put in skill notations in your next post, given that I just used magic on you…
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With a grunt, Infineon stabbed forwards with Artemis at his foe, the blade aimed right at the creature’s gut. Unluckily, the creature seemed to have better reflexes than Infineon had thought; picking up a shield and a club that had fallen on the ground even as Infineon closed in for the kill. In a flash of movement, the fleshie (for Infineon could now see properly what the creature was) raised the shield and deflected the path of Infineon’s strike. The sharp blade of Artemis bit deep into the wood of the shield, but the angle on the shield was enough to mean that the force was angling off to the side, saving the shield from being impaled. However, Infineon’s focus had already moved on from the shield by the time his strike hit the shield, and his entire focus was now on the large club whistling through the air at his head.

As the club started its arc, Infineon realized that he was far too unprepared to block with Artemis, which left him with only the option of dodging. Fortunately, the blow was ‘aimed’ at his head, which meant that dodging was still possible; a blow aimed at his chest could have caused a lot more hassle. As Infineon was still running forwards after the charge, he lengthened his next stride and bent his whole body forward by 45 degrees; effectively walking underneath the uncontrolled strike [Quickened Mind]. Sadly, this position left Infineon no room to swing Artemis around as he was now within arm’s reach of this fleshie, but Infineon had other tricks up his sleeve.

As his opponent’s defence and subsequent attack had all been based on a rotation to the left, his opponent would likely be off balance by his strike. In addition, the shield had been flung out to the side which would make it difficult for even an experienced warrior to bring it in to defend from Infineon’s next close quarters attack. Based on the fact that Infineon had ducked under the last strike, that left him on the outside of the creature’s arm, slightly to its right, and gave Infineon the perfect target for his attack.

The bare upper arms of the fleshy as it recovered from the attack were the perfect target for Infineon’s next attack. Infineon put the very last of his forward momentum and all the power in his right arm into a straight punch aimed just below the creature’s shoulder where its leather armour ended. The punch was no regular punch though, as it glowed with a pale blue inner light, imbued with [Bolt Touch] as it was. Unless the creature somehow dodged the punch, Infineon was working on the bet that it would cause mild numbing or even shock spasms in the creature’s upper arms, leading to its deadly strikes being less powerful than they usually were. Regardless of whether the spell was there or not though, if that punch hit then on a normal human it would definitely be a nice big bruise in the morning…
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After Infineon ducked under your swing, he is just inside arm’s length, and slightly to your right. Artemis is held in his left hand away to your right.
Bolt Touch: (1)/2 remain (charge lost only if strike makes contact)
Stress: 0 (2) (1/4)

Barley’s attack had missed. That’s all that needs to be said on the matter, so consider the rest a bonus. The club, powered by the outrageous strength of Barley Soup’s arm, hips, waist, torso, and rest of body, had almost struck the small man (or whatever it was). However, fleshies are notoriously clumsy and slow, and Infineon was simply too fast for Barley to catch with such an awkward strike. He had simply run under and past the club, leaving Barley stumbling around like an awkward loon. His right foot lifted off the ground and his left pivoted, powered by his missed swing. This led to a very unstable position for the risen warrior and he swiftly stomped back down with his right foot, keeping himself stable.

Problem 1 Status: Dealt With

Problem 2: Tiny Man with Big Pokey

Infineon’s strike had been blocked and parried, sending the tip of the small lump of living flesh’s weapon far off to the side. The impact had shaken Barley Soup, but ultimately hadn’t proved effective. Soft, rotten tendons and loose muscle cushioned the impact, keeping him relatively stable (other than his own momentum spinning him). The pointy bit was on one side of Barley’s vision; Infineon was on the other. Barley Soup’s mind attempted to crank out the reason this would be relevant to the situation at hand. The voice in his head explained. “It means he cannot strike you. Strike him now!”

Unfortunately, the worst possible thing could have happened. Infineon, acting quickly after his successful positioning, decided to strike back. Infineon’s fist did indeed strike too and hit hard it did, with all the force of a speeding midget. Infineon’s fist, combined with some leftover momentum of the spin, forced Barley’s arm up, pointing the club skyward. The damage was negligible, however. A punch to a solid object like a heavy, solid object like a fleshie’s upper arm, thrown by someone notably untrained in hand to hand combat, couldn’t deal much damage. And really, what sort of proper, bloodless corpse is even capable of brusing? However, the punch allowed Infineon’s spell to also connect, but that’s when things started going bad.

The electricity should have caused Barley’s arm to start contracting and causing muscle spasms. However, it did not. Rotten and faulty nerves could be attributed to this, but not nearly as much as his own curse. A good portion of Infineon’s magical power behind the spell was directly siphoned into Barley’s very being. The spell still connected, effects showing. Barley Soup’s fist clenched a little tighter, trying to fight off a traitorous arm, and a slight smell of burnt meat began to waft, but to someone familiar with the spell it was clearly less than fully effective. [Endless Hunger, skill]

The shock of the spell was less physical and more mental in Barley Soup. As soon as the spell connected, his mind exploded. His endless hunger seemed to wane for a moment, only to return more torturous than ever. Having known relief, even a little, even for just a moment, was enough to turn Barley’s full attention down to Infineon. Whatever this thing did… Barley needed to eat it. This was an oasis in a desert.

Infineon’s punch to Barley Soup brought him easily with arm’s length of the fleshie. That is, it brought Infineon within the length of one of Infineon’s arms. Barley, towering over Infineon, could probably reach down and touch the mage on his head with just his elbow. However, Barley was not thinking in a logical manner, and could not. Hunger overruled his mind and every instinct and thought shouted “EAT!” Whatever force was in Barley’s head agreed and reminded Barley to do as he did with the priest he had first met.

Barley let his arms relax while keeping his fists clenched, grasping his weapons strongly while letting Infineon’s spell remnant cause his muscles tense and relax randomly. He didn’t care; he wouldn’t need them. Barley Soup’s torso followed along, head snapping down with unusual speed for a fleshie… since he had let his knees buckle. Using gravity rather than his own slow body, Barley would thrust his mouth towards Infineon’s nearby shoulder, aiming for a powerful bite. As he fell, he would make the first sound produced by his own vocal cords since his creation: the horrible, terrifying howl of air being sucked through a rotten man’s throat. [I Could Just Gobble You Up, special]

Alright, you're almost done here. Make your next post an extended one, really try to put detail specifically into your character's actions; really see what you can do with your character. I've intentionally left my character in a terrible spot for you to take advantage of, because my next post will (in all likelihood) end the training battle.
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Infineon felt the energy rush out of his hand, coursing up into the arm of the fleshie he was fighting and causing a putrid smell of burnt hair and flesh to fill the street. Usually, the spell would cause at least one involuntary muscle contraction, however in this case something was wrong; instead of taking the damage of the spell, the creature seemed to drink in the mana of the spell, and then shrug off the rest of the effect. The sheer unlikeliness of the total failure of the spell rooted Infineon to the spot for a second, trying to make sense of the series of events in his mind. There was clearly some sort of magic absorbing effect working on this creature, as Infineon had felt the magic being sucked out of his hand as he cast the spell, almost as if the creature had devoured it. With one of Infineon’s higher end spells being seemingly shrugged off with ease by the creature, Infineon resolved to resolve the fight with the blade.

While Infineon had run this through his head, the fleshie had recovered and was now winding up for some sort of attack. Infineon looked at both arms to see that neither was making any particularly aggressive moves, so he started backing up while trying to see where the attack would come from. It was almost at the last second that Infineon noticed the creature’s knees buckling and the maw of his opponent opening wide as it collapsed towards his shoulder. It was instinct that saved Infineon, instinct and further application of magic. Casting [Zephyr Cloak] as he fell, Infineon buckled his right knee and pushed off with his left in an imitation of his opponent’s attack. The speed that Zephyr cloak gave Infineon allowed him to just get out from under the massive jaws of the fleshie, even as they took a bite out of his travelling cloak.

Infineon’s move had left him flat on the ground, but now he had Artemis between his foe and himself. Rolling his right leg beneath him, Infineon moved up to one knee as soon as he finished sliding and swung Artemis around with both hands at the creature’s shins. The large beast may or may not have had time to recover from trying to collapse on top of him (Infineon didn’t have time to check) but either way, Infineon’s limited knowledge of fleshies left him with the impression that their weakness was their mobility since crippling them was the only real way to stop them. With the horizontal slash Infineon intended to do just that, aiming at the middle of the leather armour where the muscle of the leg should be most concentrated. Infineon likened his strike to an lumberjack trying to fell an oak tree; weaken the lower end, and let gravity do the work
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Stress: 2 (2/4)
Zephyr Cloak Cast; 0 remain
Mach Gust: 3/4 remain

Ok, given how close you are to finishing, I'm going to give you 48 hours to post your next post after this time stamp. After that point I will unfortunately be obliged to fail you unless you have an exceedingly good excuse (severe internet drop out or something). You're so damn close to passing, don't fail now!

Falling and hitting the ground is a pretty jarring experience. Falling and hitting the ground head-first is even more jarring, even for a zombie.

Barley Soup, having expected to get a nice, delicious mouthful of mage flank, hadn’t expected to miss. Barley Soup, who literally had a case of brain rot, couldn’t fathom the implications of missing. Barley Soup, who couldn’t find the cognitive agility to remember to close his mouth, pounded his jaw into the earth and scoop up a sizable amount of dirt to keep his piece of Infineon’s cloak company.

It took him a second to figure out what was wrong. His mind was so absorbed and focused on obeying the law of hunger that it required a few extra seconds to parse certain information. “The hunger did not subside,” was quickly followed by “You do not have a mouthful of meat”. This was unsettling to Barley, knowing that he would have to try again to get a bite of the mage. The next nugget of wisdom that he was able to understand was “You are on the ground.” This was easy to deduce, even for a fleshie. He didn’t feel as though his legs were holding up his body, he had smashed his head into the ground, and his twitching arms were being somewhat prohibited from movement. He was able to lift his head and see Infineon kneeling on the ground. His brain was barely able to think “Mage over there” before he had gotten one leg up, kneeling like Infineon.

Unfortunately for him, his ability to react and move was much slower than Infineon’s, so by the time that knee was up Infineon’s attack was already coming. Barley Soup had no chance to think fast enough to get out of the way.

CRACK

An ugly, visceral sound echoed through the ruined town. A halberd was a heavy weapon and a horizontal slash was not an easy maneuver from a kneeling position, but Infineon’s skill with the weapon and Artemis’ grand craftsmanship were enough to power the blade through the studded leather armor and necrotic flesh, slamming into Barley Soup’s bone. The swing wasn’t powerful enough to crack the bone, but definitely enough to hear the thud of metal on femur.

If Barley Soup felt the pain (which, make no mistake, he did), his face didn’t show it. Rather, his face showed a very un-animalistic rage; the sort of anger shown primarily by people who failed to get what they want. Advice and observations stewed around in the fleshie’s mind.

The mage was right here! He could make the hunger go away, at least for a time! Eat it! EAT IT!

All of Barley’s rage and hunger was quickly being overruled by a slight contented feeling, issuing itself from his Barley’s injured right leg. Processing this information unusually quickly, Barley’s right hand would drop his club and shoot down, clutching the shaft of the weapon. The feeling spread, and the voice in the back of Barley’s head began screaming “The weapon is enchanted!” Barley didn’t know what enchanted meant, but he wasn’t about to give this up without a fight.

Barley’s right leg was damaged. He didn’t care. Powering himself through it, he decided to attempt to get rid of the mage while keeping this tasty, filling toy. A small thud would issue as Barley’s shield fell to the ground, and his left hand came over to grasp the shaft of Artemis. His left foot would follow the rest of his body and stomp onto the ground. He had just the plan to separate this mage from his weapon.

Barley’s legs both locked firmly in place and Artemis’ shaft held tightly in his grip, his arm muscles would noticeably bulge as a low groan would come out of his mouth. The contractions of his torso, forcing air out of his lungs and mouth, muffled by the dirt, would barely be perceived, but nonetheless be present. With a sudden burst of force and motion, Barley’s magically enhanced arms would attempt to shake Artemis back and forth wildly, intent on knocking the weapon out of the mage’s grasp and even, perhaps, bludgeoning the poor little man into a more… agreeable state.

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I'm really sorry for the wait that I had to put you through here. I've been struggling with some medical problems for the past week that have made my motivation and creativity suffer as a part of it, and I just couldn't find it in me to forge a new post. I should have gotten in contact with you via PM, but, well, I just didn't think to. Sorry. On the up side, I believe I am doing better, and hope that the ludicrous nature of this zombie nearing the end of his first battle (albeit training) is enough to satisfy you. Thank you for being so patient with me.

On a small side note, would it be frowned upon if I, assuming the next post is the 'end' of the battle, would make one post after that, to resolve Barley's end of it?

Well done. I find you to be more than competent in our manner of fighting. I hereby proclaim you PASSED unless a Moderator wishes to raise a complaint. Congratulations and welcome to the world of DI! Feel free to post your closing post below this one and I shall then post the official stamp below that.
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Infineon grunted with exertion, swinging Artemis with as much force as he could muster from this awkward kneeling position. The blade whistled around and smacked into the leg of the fleshie in front of him and sunk into the being’s flesh with the gruesome sound of metal hitting bone. Infineon tried to swing the weapon back out of the wound, but the depth that it had sunk in made it tricky to pull out. Showing a cleverness that seemed uncharacteristic of regular fleshies, Infineon’s target dropped his weapon and reached down to grab Infineon’s weapon where it was embedded in his leg. While Infineon was strong for an elf, he was nowhere near as strong as this monstrosity, and Infineon soon realised that he had no ability to physically get the weapon back; the monster so attached to the idea of shaking Infineon off the weapon as it was.

Before the violent thrashing of the staff could actually injure Infineon, he let go of the weapon and jumped backwards away from the wildly swinging end. Infineon sagged where he stood; he tired of this battle, the mana draining effect of his opponent finally starting to take hold of him. His opponent was a worthy foe, and while he was a menace to society, Infineon had grown to harbour a certain amount of respect for the fearless creature; wily beyond its looks. It was, therefore, a relief when Zoltan spoke directly into Infineon’s mind.

“Well done, my prophet. You have tested this fleshie and found him to be worthy of his place here in this world. The Dark Pantheon has requested that in this case you spare his life, and the divine rules demand that it be so. Therefore, much as it pains me to command you to do so, recall your weapon and leave this place; savour your dislike of this creature until you meet again, for then you may show it no mercy.”

Infineon acknowledged the command of his God silently, before getting to his feet. Infineon stared over at where the pitiable monster crouched and waved his hand. With the sound of seared flesh, a hole to the etheric realm opened up and consumed Artemis, returning it to its domain and readying it to be called at a later point. With one last glance towards the monster and a glance around the town to find any possible survivors, Infineon determined that there was nothing further to do here. Content with that summary, Infineon turned once on his heel and then he too was consumed by a portal to the ether, leaving the battlefield with nothing but the smell of ozone to register his presence there at all.
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Infineon has left the battlefield
Stress: 2 (3/4)
Zephyr Cloak: 2/3 posts remain (0 casts remain)
Mach Gust: 3/4 remain