Maganic Wars

The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)
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Author:  MyShipSails [ Sun Nov 11, 2012 6:14 am ]
Post subject:  The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

-Battles are fought in turns, you post after a response.
-Fighting happens in "real time" meaning you can, if you wish, go back in time a little to describe actions and things you do before any attack of the opposition lands (within reasonable limits)
-Be as descriptive as you can. More information makes for better battles.
-Do not ever control your opponent's character (or pets) in any way.
-Characters are, typically, allowed two actions per post: One defensive action and one offensive action. Regardless of whether you were attacked or not, you may only attack once per post.
-You can only use 1 special/spell per turn (you can use multiple skills per turn, and 1 special and multiple skills per turn though). Specials that have an effect on your opponent count towards your one offensive action. Defensive specials count as a special use and your defensive action. Misc specials (buffs mostly) are neither one but still count as a special use.
-Try to be fair in both your attacks as well as your dodges. Getting hit every now and then is not the end of the world, and deepens your character.
-There is a minimum of 2 paragraphs required in a post (though more are desirable!)
-No 'Unblockable' attacks. There's always something, somewhere that can happen.
-Be creative, use the world around you to your advantage!
-Use a spell checker, or a program that helps with puncuation. It can't hurt... and can generally help your posts more readable.
-Have fun!!! Battles are supposed to be enjoyable. If don't like it, something is wrong.

The destination wasn't very far away now - indeed, some of the buildings could be seen over the crest of a hill even now. Walking the rest of the way would likely only take another hour or so, and the man walking there was far from fatigued. Yet upon finding the abandoned wagon and the peculiar-yet-plain stone it resided upon, the samurai was distracted by something that halted his advance, the city-port of Jadra's Gate in the distance being almost forgotten. An old, rusted out wagon on a platform that didn't make much sense sat in a place that should have drawn attention, and should have been moved by now. It was only a handful of paces off the travelled road, after all.

A quick glance around revealed nothing noticeably spectacular about the either the wagon nor the worked stone around it. Weather damage had left the body of the wagon, well, weathered, and the canopy that the wagon looked designed to fit was not to be found. The iron wheels had rusted in place and stained the ground beneath them, further describing how long the wagon had been left in place. What was more drawing, at least to the man standing before the scene, was the paving stone that sat underneath the wagon. It was a perfect square of stone, just a few feet away from the worn dirt road, perfectly 10 metres on either side, with the wagon taking up the centre of the area. The stones, unlike the wagon, were in perfect, seemingly new condition, as if they had just been placed. Not a speck of dirt dared cover them, aside from the lines of rust from the old wagon wheels.

The contrast between old and new, while both seemed quite out of place in general, drew Xander in for a closer look. Once he got to the cover-less wagon, he spotted some items still resting within the body of the ruined vehicle. He scoffed, instantly thinking that anything of value would have been stolen long ago, and nearly didn't bother to even examine the findings. But a particular book title caught his eye. It turned out to be a familiar handbook, which along with many other similar titles that were also found resting in the wagon, briefly covered topics that most Darkness Incarnate natives had reason to know of. Things like 'Local Races: Explained' were often found in small port-side shops to sell anyone that came from elsewhere were there, with some having multiple copies and editions within the piles of books. The man laughed, now knowing why the contents had remained in the wagon rather than in the hands of a rummager.

He turned to leave the place and carry on when he saw a note sticking up in the mass of books. The paper was in fine condition despite being exposed, so Xander snatched it up and read it, tearing the portion that was underneath books to keep it from blowing away in lieu of taking his time to first move the books.

The note read: "Stay here for a few minutes. There's a new guy who might need help. Make sure he's good enough in a fight not to die to a thug or two."

Thrilled at the idea of a fight, the samurai complied with the message and took a seat at the driver's end of the wagon, letting his overcoat soak up whatever filth had cumulated on the seat. The coat was quite tattered around the bottom anyway; its not like a whole bunch of care went into the thing.

And there the samurai waited with anticipation, his hazel eyes searching for whoever might show up next.


Feel free to contact me (or whomever you are battling against in the future) if there are any problems you have with a post. Ideally, your following post will have our characters meet up. I hope you have fun!

Author:  Murgatroyd [ Wed Nov 14, 2012 2:24 am ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

A hand reached down to pluck a small red flower from the ground. Up it went, raised up and into the air, wavering ever so slightly from a wayward wind. As its ascent halted, a large, wet, black nose neared itself to the flower. A sharp inhale, then a moment of stillness, sharp exhale. The flower bent, petals tore from it and sailed off into the upwards sky, using the breeze to power their voyage. The stem was dropped from its perch in the heavens, crashing once again down to the earth. Along with the stem that now rested on the ground was a plethora of flora, littering the ground and concealing the soil beneath.

The face that the aforementioned nose attached itself to was that of a majestic creature, that of a brown, matted bear. Oddly enough, the body that the aforementioned face attached itself to was that of a man, not more than six feet tall and not exactly as large as one would assume of a bear. This amalgamation of man and beast was made only stranger by the way it continually stopped to inspect each type of flower it could find. What it was thinking was a mystery to all - all but itself.

Must we stop at each and every last one of these plants?

The man turned and continued his trek, walking out of the small field he had inhabited for quite some time. He weaved between trees and stumbled over roots, persistently paving a path to nowhere in particular. As chance would have it, personal path finding was no longer necessary as a small dirt path peered into view. A slight alteration to his course and he now had a defined destination – Jadra’s Gate as a sign informed him.

Unwittingly the man had begun a journey that would last days, but something told him he should remain on the path for however long it takes…

If you go wandering back into the woods I will personally euthanize you.

The path was uneventful, winding slightly and consisting of nothing but dirt, and rocks that sat on top of dirt. Occasionally a sign would appear, informing him that no, he was not there yet and no, they weren’t close. Finally, though, after much walking, and much more walking, roofs were visible over the next hill. As if taken aback by something as strange and out of the ordinary as man-made structures, the man stopped and stared in contemplation.

Finally, something to break the monotony, to save me from this hellish boredom!
Oh, be quiet. Maybe if you actually conversed you wouldn’t be so bored. Otherwise, yes, this is quite interesting.
Why do you think I would converse with someone as mundane as you?
You’re conversing with me right now, aren’t you?
Yes, let’s continue to the city without your raucous nonsense. If you would take us there, Arctos, it would be much appreciated.

Onwards he – apparently, they – went. After a while, the path became a bit wider, as did the clearing on either side of it. Along with this came more structures built by man, though this one appeared a bit more desolate. A wagon was parked a bit to the side of the path, perched on a low stone plateau. The wagon itself looked as though it had seen hell – missing parts, rusted, cargo spilled all over. In fact, the stone it sat on seemed like it would, if sold, be worth more than the wagon and its contents combined.

This is the most interesting this to happen in days, so you may as well check it out.

As Arctos approached the wagon he stumbled over a few misplaced objects, one of them being a book. He skimmed trough it quickly, catching but a brief glimpse into life outside of his previous existence. He tossed it aside, and as soon as he lifted his head to resume his inspection he spotted movement. It was a man, from the front of the wagon. Interesting.

Approach him, you dolt!
Yes, and be sure to say something!
You really think that he’s going to say anything? Surely you know better by now!

He had nearly entered the man’s peripherals. An awkward almost-smile became the bear – most would say he was simply baring his teeth, whether or not it would be taken for what it was – and he stepped into the man’s view. He held one hand out and waved a hello.

He didn’t say anything.
You knew he wouldn’t.
Yes, I suppose I did.

(Thanks for the training, hope the colors aren't too distracting, haha. I don't know, I guess its either that or typing 'said/thought/whatever mindspeechword Archelon' five thousand times a fight.)

Author:  MyShipSails [ Fri Nov 16, 2012 7:17 am ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

(( Colours are fine. I prefer them over 'character said' in general, and that's only more true in your case. Actually, thanks for just using colours instead, hehe. ))

Xander idled on the dirty old wood for a while, long enough to make him wonder if the note he found was meant for him to find or was just a regular note left by someone as a joke. If the weather wasn't as nice as it was, there would have been no way he would have stuck around long enough for his trainee to show up.

His eyes drifted lazily through the tree branches while he waited, no longer content with scanning the area for traces for a stranger to throw down with. The man, so lost in reverie, almost didn't hear the sound of the one he had been waiting for as they stumbled over some of the wagon's content. Xander hopped down from his dusty seat when he realised that someone was near and the sound he heard was not just some forest noise. He was already excited before his boots got the chance to consider hitting the ground. Either it'd be the one he was waiting for, or he could quit this waiting game and go pester someone in the city for a while.

He took off his coat before he even saw the guy. It was probably filthy from sitting on that wood seat, and it was a little too warm outside to be wearing that much clothing in combat. Rather, what he hoped would be combat.

The charcoal grey shirt that was underneath quite clearly displayed signs of originally having sleeves. The remains of what used to be sleeves looked as though they were cut off rather quickly and then just left that way probably because that's exactly what went down. Not really much better than his dirty coat, but at least it wasn't as dirty.

He turned, but stood and blinked a few times when he saw who had made their presence known. He cocked his head in confusion for a moment, not entirely sure what he was seeing. It seemed to be a rather scrawny bear dressed as a man, bearing its teeth. Or, no, wait, was that just a man with a really realistic mask? But then again, it seemed like the mask could move. So was it a man with a bear head? And it looked angry, but admittedly, the samurai knew very little about man-bear facial motions. The human looking part seemed to be in a pretty friendly mood though, as it was relaxed and waving. He felt more comfortable guessing at body language of a person than what could possibly be a bear smile, so he guessed the person-thing was friendly.

"Well, you sure are goofy looking guy. Guess that means you're who I'm waiting for, though. Most interesting people stand out in a crowd, and I don't imagine you blend in all that well. Can you read?"

Xander approached the unspoken man with his usual certainty, no longer shaken by his appearance. It was probably helpful for him to know of a shapeshifter in this situation, as coming to terms with people that may or may not actually be people, but actually animals or part-animals, wasn't completely foreign to his experience. Once he got within arm's reach, the note was passed. If the bear-guy could read, he might not need to 'convince' the guy to take out his staff.

"I hope you're some sort of martial arts master or have a few spells, else this is going to be way boring. Kind of glad you aren't some freakishly strong dude of legend, though. I'm a little bit more than just 'rusty'."

Xander walked back to the wagon and grabbed pulled his blade from the sheath that was still attached to his discarded overcoat. It would, hopefully, give Arctos and company time to examine the note and understand why the guy who handed them paper was now resting a blade over his shoulders just a few feet away.

"Whenever you're ready, then."


It might be a rule somewhere, but trainers usually give the first attack to the trainee. Unless you want to have our characters chat for a bit first, unleash them hurting things!

Author:  Murgatroyd [ Tue Nov 20, 2012 10:30 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

    Oh boy, this reaction wasn’t entirely predictable.
    Why didn’t he just say something?

The man stood for a moment with a rather perplexed look on his face, like he didn’t know quite what it was he was looking at. After he was done staring for a few seconds, his face became serious and his voice did not falter:

"Well, you sure are goofy looking guy. Guess that means you're who I'm waiting for, though. Most interesting people stand out in a crowd, and I don't imagine you blend in all that well. Can you read?"

As the man approached, Arctos took time to evaluate him. His shirt was dark grey, a bit ruffled and torn, along with a pair of even darker pants. He wasn’t much larger than the body Arctos currently possessed. The man reached out, a piece of paper was exchanged, and the man walked back towards the wagon. He spoke as he walked:

"I hope you're some sort of martial arts master or have a few spells, else this is going to be way boring. Kind of glad you aren't some freakishly strong dude of legend, though. I'm a little bit more than just 'rusty'."

    He really has no idea who we are, does he?
    I don’t think he knows that we are a “we”.

Unfolding and turning the paper revealed text that was scribbled in somewhat sloppy handwriting, with ink that was now running and smeared. Nonetheless, the text was readable. "Stay here for a few minutes. There's a new guy who might need help. Make sure he's good enough in a fight not to die to a thug or two." Once he had read the paper, Arctos crumpled it into a small ball and tossed it aside.

    A thug or two? What would you call him? In fact, we don’t even know his name, yet he challenges us to a duel.
    Either way, the man seems rather determined to fight. We should be proactive, land the first strike.

The sound of metal on cloth rang through the quiet air, signifying the appearance of the death dealer itself; the man had drawn his blade and had turned to face Arctos again. Almost instinctively, the staff disembarked from Arctos’ back and lodged itself in both of his hands. The men stood just feet apart. Timing is everything. Get him while his guard is down. He didn’t exactly look prepared for a quick attack, especially with the way he held his sword – which was gargantuan and looked very sharp, by the way. He seemed almost relaxed, the way the blade rested on his shoulder.

    Is he really that confident?

"Whenever you're ready, then."

Arctos has already begun his attack by the time the man’s sentence was through. He lifted his staff above his head quickly, and brought it down upon his foe in a diagonal swing, going from the man’s left shoulder down towards his right hip. Arctos’ hands gripped the slimmer end of the staff, leaving the slightly heavier, knobbed end hurtling towards his foe.

(This was kind of rushed out, but I hope it's okay. I'll get back into the swing of things next post.)

Author:  MyShipSails [ Mon Nov 26, 2012 3:01 am ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

The paper note of questionable origin was read over, crumpled up, and discarded. If the man knew the circumstances which lead to that note being found, he may have treated it a bit more gingerly, but he redeemed himself by quickly pulling out his staff without hesitation. Xander couldn't help but smile - it wasn't everyday that he met someone eager to battle for a reason like a printed message. The guy didn't protest, nor did he speak a word while he wound up for the first attack. It was nice to see someone ready to take advantage of a stance that was far too relaxed for imminent combat, rather than waste the opportunity with chatter and introductions. If his opponent was smart, he'd probably know this is meant to be a non-lethal exercise, and such pleasantries could be handled afterwards.

Shamefully, Xander realised he was actually getting caught off-guard from a person whom he had literally just challenged. He was already proud of his trainee, though such pride would only appear as a widening of his eye as he tried to react fast enough to the sudden lurch of a wooden weapon. However, as his sword was resting too far away, and he really needed both his hands on the hilt to make use of the blade, so he opted to simply take the hit.

But he had it on good, albeit mysterious authority that this guy wasn't up to his eyes in mad skills. Information was certainly handy, and knowing he probably wasn't about to be torn in half from some spell that was hiding in the wood made him a little less cautious about a new opponent than he would normally be. Instead of trying to trying to get out of the way or making a clumsy block, Xander simply braced for impact while getting ready to react with his own attack.

The staff hit with all the force it was expected to, which was more than Xander had really hoped it'd be. Pain shot through his shoulder, giving the samurai the impression that this particular robe wearer didn't just read a lot of books to get where he is. Still, he had managed to get his other hand to his weapon before the impact, so his follow-up was swift. The two combatants were close, which begged sword use, but he didn't really want to seriously hurt the guy. Not if he was just supposed to be checking out his skill in battle, at least. While the staff connected with his shoulder, Xander realised that he was expected to be a trainer for the bear - the note really should have specified that, he had nearly not made the connection.

Lessons. Xander took the hit head on, then advanced even though it brought him too close to swing his long sword. The steps forward were done quickly and with plenty of practice, and quickly closed much of the small amount of distance left between the men. While he advanced, the handle of his blade rose ever slightly, and when the two were but inches apart, the blunt handle of a longsword was driven towards the head of a bear. The samurai wasn't sure if bears liked having metal shoved into their snout as much as other animals did, but he was excited at the idea of finding out [Fleeting Beauty] .

After the attack, he walked backward, thinking his foe would do have to do the same to recover from the trade. He took his sword into his left hand only, leaving him just as susceptible to a fast attack has he was at the start of their battle so that he could rub the new sore spot on his shoulder that resulted from a great swing from a quiet animal-man.

"Well, first. If you don't know much about your foe, and he seems to be better outfitted than you, should probably exercise a bit more caution than that, though it was good to take advantage of my poor form. Just don't be too reckless, there are some really strong people out there, and it's kind of hard to know how strong someone is if you run in and die. Especially if you aren't making lethal attacks. Even if you manage to give a good hit and take a good hit, you're losing if you're the guy with the staff."

The bear-man could read, so it probably understood spoken word. That's how things worked, right? He kind of hoped he wasn't just wasting his breath, but it was pretty hard to say for as long as the creature remained silent.


Fleeting Beauty, 1 of 3 used.


(( If that was your rushed post, things are looking up for you. Sorry about my delay, I'll try to pick up my pace.

So, if your character wants to avoid the attack, you don't need to act as though my post-attack paragraphs happened. They are reliant on assumed reactions, so you can 'soft edit' them out of our battle. I'll give an example so that my terrible explanations can be avoided if need be.

Post 1: I write that I eat a banana
Post 2: You try to take the banana before I eat it. You don't need to assume you fail simply because I 'already' ate the banana in my post.

In our context, I assume I hit your character in the face in my post. Though this obviously doesn't need to succeed, Xander only walks away and chats at you if it happens. If your character has something to say about his poor facial features getting smashed, those two actions don't need to take place if they no longer make sense. Just be careful your soft edits don't tread into character control.

Aside from that, your posts are awesome. Keep it up and we should be done after you use a spell, block or dodge an attack, and take a hit. As always, let me know if something in my post bothered you. ))

Author:  Murgatroyd [ Tue Dec 04, 2012 1:22 am ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)


The staff connected, and rapturous voices sounded between the unheard trio of inhuman intellects. The one who controlled the arm that swung the staff knew better than that, as the receiver of the attack showed no visible signs of pain. In fact, rather than recoiling, the man began an advance. He took several deliberate steps towards Arctos, preparing a rather hefty blow. Luckily, the man swung with the blunt end of his weapon. Unluckily, there was no time for Arctos to deflect or avoid the blow. A pre-emptive wince, a quick curse was thought, and the hilt was upon him.

A cracking sound was audible as the hilt seemed to phase through the snout of the ‘bear’ and instead strike a very human skull. Half a second later, the ursine visage did what could only be described as imploding upon itself. It collapsed upon itself in what appeared to be a concentrated gust of air, and once the air was gone, so was the bear’s head. All that remained was a masked human head, devoid of all features.


There was no response.

    Did he just
    Get knocked unconscious? It would appear so.
    How is that even possible?
    I’m not going to question it. Rather, I’m going to seize my opportunity!

After standing lifeless for a moment, another swelling of magical currents began – this time outward. As it rushed from the masked head there appeared to be a few red flecks, no, ashes – ashes that gave off no heat and seemed to disappear from the air moments after their creation. Red feathers sprouted from the mask, and a horribly sharp beak appeared towards the front of his face. Dark green eyes nestled into their place, staring intently at the man who was now walking away from him, rubbing his shoulder. Inside the mind of the newly formed avian-man-thing, Arctos sighed heavily and made his presence known to all that could hear; that is Archelon and Ajdarxo.

Muttered under a calmed breath and barely audible, Bartgeier asserted, “You’re going to regret that.” He reached up, through his beak and what would appear to be his vulture skull, to feel his human skull. He ran his hand up and down his forehead; it was a bit wet, presumably blood. In fact, Bartgeier realized that it was quite a bit harder to concentrate on anything than it should be. A slight concussion? Of course.

    Great job Arctos! Honestly, making life harder on the rest of us and somehow managing to be knocked unconscious! I wasn’t aware that was even possible. Wonderful!
    I only did what the rest of you told me.
    Well, at least you’re subservient.

While the switch of consciences was being made, the man had begun speaking:

    "Well, first. If you don't know much about your foe, and he seems to be better outfitted than you, should probably exercise a bit more caution than that, though it was good to take advantage of my poor form. Just don't be too reckless, there are some really strong people out there, and it's kind of hard to know how strong someone is if you run in and die. Especially if you aren't making lethal attacks. Even if you manage to give a good hit and take a good hit, you're losing if you're the guy with the staff."

His sentence ended essentially at the same time as Bartgeier began rubbing his head. In one ear, out the other, just about. He had heard just enough to be annoyed. Bartgeier was having a hard enough time paying attention to anything, let alone some thug trying to teach him combat basics.

    “You shouldn’t think so highly of yourself. Better yet, you shouldn’t underestimate me. I’ve a bit of a temper. My friend, by comparison, is much nicer.”

As he spoke, a small flame appeared in Bartgeier’s hand. It molded itself into a sphere, crackling and sparking with white hot embers. He looked down at it, thinking to himself that it seemed a bit smaller than he expected. Either way, it was likely due to the unholy headache that pierced his skull, causing him to hardly be able to concentrate on the fireball. It had cooked long enough, it was time to lob this fiery concoction.

Bartgeier tossed the fireball at his opponent, who was a few steps away now. It was going towards the man’s chest, until it detonated shortly before reaching the man. Red ash and fire scattered in every direction. It would be hard to avoid all of the blast, but it wouldn’t be too hard to minimize damage if the man reacted in time.

Bartgeier returned to a relaxed position as he watched his fire do its work. He leaned lazily on his staff that rested under his right arm, and rubbed his head a bit with his left hand.


Fireball [1/2]
Elemental Mastery Sickness [Post 1]

(Sorry this took so long. Things got a bit hectic at work, got home and basically went straight to sleep for a few days. Also, I wasn't sure about whether I should edit your text out or not. My character's appearance change would probably stop you mid sentence or something in reality, but I just kind of assumed that Xander REALLY wanted to finish his sentence. Let me know if you want me to change it.)

Author:  MyShipSails [ Mon Dec 10, 2012 1:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

A sense of pride filled the bones of the samurai as his hilt connected quite perfectly with his foe, an event which completely justified taking a solid smack to his shoulder just a moment before. The blow hardly contained the strength he so effortlessly used to wield against his foes, but it seemed to do the trick; he was still a warrior, after all.

He felt his strike pass through where he expected to feel bear snout in a short moment of disorientation, thinking it was either going to be the most realistic mask he'd ever seen, or an actual bear head sitting on human shoulders. Passing through it as if it weren't there, though, that was a weird thing, and he didn't immediately trust that he saw such a thing happen. It could have been a trick of the light, and the time delay he felt was because the man had surely tried to back up when he saw the attack, right? Especially when the awesome mask seemed to be so forcefully broken afterwards, which seemed like excessive fragility of the material. He figured such a work of art probably couldn't be made durable, so things checked out, and he hardly gave the idea of an intangible mask a second thought before he turned around to walk away and nurse his swelling shoulder.

Xander became quite glad he had chosen to walk backward to get distance instead of turning his back. A plain mask was all that was left in the wake of their first trade, but that hardly lasted long. Watching something seem to be birthed into reality from nothing in a great burst of phantom heat and burning light, then taking substance like it was always there, just hidden, gave the observing man a small sense of awe. It wasn't like magic he had ever seen before, this brought brought forth life much like a summoner could do, but the idea of only utilizing a specific section of another creature in such a way was nearly beautiful. Indeed, if the vulture looked any less terrible, Xander likely would have roared at the show, offered to buy the man a drink, and called off this whole training thing. Anyone who could do something like that was likely able to handle a thug, he thought, but he was too interested in seeing the reasons for learning such a trick to try and call the match off. He let his advice about not being stupid when you have a staff and the other guy has a sword, though somewhat absent-mindedly as he gawked at the avian form of his foes' mask.

"Temper? Good, cause that last move wouldn't have ended so well if I wasn't just here for training. Maybe I'll actually get to get warmed up enough to actually try today!"

That's when he noticed the fire. Fire explained why he only armed himself with a staff - he didn't need a pointed end to be lethal. Judging by the now quite sore shoulder he sported, which only seemed to be getting more tense, and his apparent magical potency, this guy had to be okay against a bandit or two. Though the samurai was now legitimately excited about the encounter, he'd seen people on the receiving end of fire magic a few too many times to eagerly join the BBQ club. Time to move, he decided. It was a blessing he wasn't wearing any armor, so that he should be able to get out of the way. It was a curse that he was so close to his opponent, but not close enough to interrupt the casting. It'd be a close call, but he wasn't about to take this particular hit for the sake of teaching.

Xander took a couple steps to the side, and at the last moment possible, he leapt as far out of the way as he could. He was going to make it! Hah, just goes to show that decent reaction time was better than magic, and that any on-contact explosions only mattered when they made contact. Yup, he was incredible, and this negative bird is going to get an earful of wisdom from a true warrior. Things were looking up for the samurai! But then the fireball exploded anyway. Things sure do suck more when they don't go as planned, which was always.

A small, fiery explosion still hurts when you are on the edge of the blast. It's not much better when you are on the ground, unable to flow with the outward force the little that doing so could help. He hardly managed to cover his face with his already-hurt left arm before the fire reached his body and poured over his left side, burning cloth and skin alike. It was leagues worse than the staff hit, which had left him worse than he let on. A yelp escaped his lips, communicating his surprise to the sudden explosion he didn't expect, and the pain that it caused.

There was no time for words. He scrambled to his feet, a fire in his eyes to match the flame that he just ate, and ran at his foe with a heated shout. If the guy couldn't survive a full swing of a longsword, he couldn't take on bandits. The test was on - and it was on the arc of a blade slicing the air completely horizontally, a swipe aimed to tear through a delicate abdomen and its contents.


Glad you mentioned your skill, post was solid. *all the praise* If your posts are this good, I really shouldn't complain about having to wait a bit for them.

note: didn't proof this, pm me if there are any errors that offend the intelligence of mankind or cause physical harm to readers

Author:  Murgatroyd [ Sat Dec 15, 2012 4:19 am ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

The man reacted quickly, sidestepping and then leaping away from the fiery orb that Bartgeier had lobbed. It mattered little, as the orb exploded in mid-flight, flinging its flame in every direction, seeking blood to boil. The flame found its home in the man’s left half, singeing and burning everything it touched. A short cry emanated from the man – so he does feel pain after all! – and he writhed in pain for a moment, before leaping to his feet. The haste with which he snapped out of pain and regained his footing was impressive. Impressive enough for Bartgeier to resume his combat stance, taking his staff up in both hands, across his chest, once again. The man wasted no time. He began a sprint for the bird-headed man.

Once the man was steps away, he unleashed his attack. A horizontal slice aimed at Bartgeier’s stomach. As the sword came around, staff went up. The staff absorbed the blow with an initial thunk, but quickly turned to a thought-piercing crack. The staff gave way; the visual cracking along with the audible snapping put Bargeier into a sort-of trance, lasting only a second but feeling like much more. Is this fear? The sword’s momentum continued to carry it towards the feeble feather-headed man. Is this hopelessness? – A sudden clarity swept over Bartgeier, a single thought ran through his mind clearer than any before it.

    This is mortality.

The bird-man took flight, jumping backwards at the last moment he possibly could. The sword caught the robe he wore, ripping it a bit at about stomach height. Upon landing and regaining his footing, Bartgeier’s legs felt like they could no longer support his weight. He still gripped his staff, less a staff now and more a pair of sticks. He dropped them. Useless. - His breathing became erratic, his hands shook a bit, and his human heart beat rapidly. He needed a few moments to recuperate, and he needed to see what his enemy was doing. He calmed his breathing, and attempted to speak clearly.

“That was a great attempt! You even managed to break my oh-so-sturdy staff. Tell me, what is your name? You’re the first I’ve faced in quite some time now.”

    Is he attempting another distraction?
    Seems more like he’s stalling.

“I,” he continued, walking forwards towards the man “am Bartgeier.” The man’s swing had likely thrown him off balance, so chances are speech would come as more of a shock than a counter-attack.

    Oh, now I see.

Bartgeier held his arms out to his sides, welcoming, beckoning. After a moment, he extended his right hand out, the universal sign for a handshake. What wasn’t apparent to the naked eye, though, was that his hand was heating up. If his opponent did choose to touch it, he would feel a rather powerful burst of heat. If not, he wouldn’t. Either way, the energy would be expended, whether air or flesh would feel the heat was up to the man.

Hopefully the man wouldn't still be hellbent on slicing Bartgeier up. He was rather defenseless, after all. It would come down to reactions if it had to, but hopefully this little trick would work its magic.

Burst Touch [1/2]
Elemental Mastery [Spell 2]

Author:  MyShipSails [ Tue Jan 08, 2013 1:24 am ]
Post subject:  Re: The Welcome Wagon (Murgatroyd's TB)

And with this post, you pass. Sorry about the huge amount of wait, and welcome to DI!


The strange mage, shocked by a fast recovery and retaliation, hadn't enough time to escape from the swiping longsword. Still, he wasn't so unprepared that he simply took the attack, throwing his staff into a proper blocking position without difficulty. The sight of the staff being raised made the attacking samurai wince - he was hoping for a dodge or a hit. There's no way his burns would feel any better after the two weapons collided, and he was running out of steam quickly. The pressure he was keeping up despite the pain he was in was catching up quickly, so he'd probably have to back off for a bit after this attack.

But he didn't care. He grited his teeth and prepared for the aching bounce off the wooden pole his opponent wielded, fully dedicating himself to his swing.

It was pretty clear to Xander, by that point, if it wasn't already, that any sort of bandit would be really upset if he tried to take on the birdman in a fair fight. He wasn't just strong - he was quite confidant and able to keep a clear head in a quick battle that was at least marginally more straining than a fight would be against the average thug. It would be good for the wounded samurai if the mage was content after blocking his current attack, as he'd be allowed to back out before his disadvantage turned for the worse. He wished, at that point, that he hadn't lost his cool and struck out in rage.

But something funny happened, and a want to do harm quickly turned to concern. Worry washed over the samurai's face as his longsword's follow-through wasn't quite as stopped as he had anticipated, the interposing staff cut clean through and unable to assist Bartgeier any further. Though the mage had certainly caused a deal of pain, he wasn't sure how much damage his blade would cause if it hit the man. He certainly didn't want to kill the guy, even if his anger told him otherwise, since the mysterious note asked for something more akin to a sparring match than a regular battle. The staff certainly reduced the momentum of his swing, but not enough that the sharp blade would simply bounce off clothing and skin like a weak breeze.

His worry was lifted, though, when the man collected his wits and got out of the way at the last moment. The relief was enough to subside any sort of remaining desire to harm the man for the fire he threw, which, now with a clear head, was just as appropriate as the pommel smashing into his face just a moment prior. His entire side, now roaring with the pain of exertion, along with the close call averted was enough to stay his hands from any further aggression. While his opponent took a moment to collect his thoughts, the samurai took a moment to catch his breath and deal with the pain of his burns.

"Hah, that spell of yours really stings."

The mage advanced while he spoke, which was either stupid, or a trap. Probably the second, given how cool he'd been throughout their battle, and so Xander uncomfortably rose his sword back to chest level, pointed outwards. It'd deter any closer approach and give him a decent start if more attacks were in order. But gods, holding the blade up wasn't something he really wanted to be doing right now.

"Looks like we're about done, here. You can clearly handle some little regular folk begging for change with a knife drawn, so my reason for taking you on is satisfied. And I'm not sure if you want to keep fighting me when you have nothing to defend yourself with. Wanna call it a day?

Oh, and I'm Xander. You might of heard of me? I can't really tell how old you are with that cool mask covering your face. Sorry about smashing it, by the way. Normally not so eager to smash something so cool, but you know how it is with combat.

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