Closed Fight! Fight! Fight!

[Alea Davenport]

Alea has no idea what was going on over her head. The only thing she cared about was whether there were still bodies on top of her. Everything else was a jumble of shouting and unintelligible rage. She did recognize the Ebonstryfe's voice, though she couldn't see who his friend 'Eypharian' was.

The fight flowed and moved enough that the bodies on Alea soon got up to rejoin the fray, and since she was imitating a rock at that point, they did not bother attacking her further. That gave her a chance to get up, though she kept her body crouched low, below the eye-line of the average fighter. She looked around, trying to get her bearings on the fight.

She zeroed in on the Ebonstryfe immediately, his black armor making him hard to miss. She also noticed the young boy running toward the 'stryfe with his fist pulled back and a familiar look in his eye. Gods, was the kid stupid? The man with the sword would cut him down without hesitation! The Ebonstryfe were not known for their mercy.

With barely a thought, only well-meaning instinct, Alea rushed forward. She tackled the boy just as he began to throw his punch, throwing her entire torso at his side. For once, she was bigger than the person she was attacking, so this move might actually work!

[Lessomm]

Things were happening around him as Lessomm tried to focus. People ran past and into each other, he could hear shouting and yelling but none of it made any sense. His head kept banging and his back hurt immensely. The stars in front of his eyes popped to black spots before fading away slowly. He grunted as he dragged one gauntlet of the stones of the square, placing it firmly on a stone next to him. Grunting, he pushed himself up from the ground, his head spinning. With effort he managed to get up on his knees, looking around in a daze still. Behind him lay a man with a piece of wood in his hand, the rest of was a little further over. At first the words spoken to him meant nothing. Just sounds that pushed against the edge of his hearing. But as he mulled them over in his mind they became clearer and more distinct. Stand your guard. Was he in a fight? He was in a fight. It had been a glorious big one at that. A grin touched the Eypharian's lips before his face dropped back into neutrality. The sword guy. He was around somewhere. Lessomm had seen him somewhere before. Pushing himself up on one knee, Lessomm got to his feet, swayed a little but steadied himself. Around him, the world continued in its exploding chaos but none of it touched the young servant. He shook his head again and looked around. There he was, the man who had the sword and who had roused his consious mind to get back up. He ran the gauntlet along his chin, wiping away the lines of blood that had set there. Before he could thank or attack the swordsman, he heard a calling from somewhere. The swordsman turned away from the fight to look. Staggering over, Lessomm gathered himself and straightened his back. What else had the man said to him apart from standing his guard? It didn't matter. Under his shirt, his other arms moved about and got back in place. His elbows of his second pair hurt immensely as they had taken most of the weight from the fall just now. The ones at his back were no better off, having taken the brunt of the assault from the man with the club. The chaos around him provided more than enough cover for the strange motions underneath his clothes. Lessomm took a deep breath, which send a piercing pain through his chest. Yup, bruised rib or ribs. He touched at his chest with one gauntlet fist. "Perhaps I could lend a hand cleaning up? If you'd allow it, Sir Ebonstryfe." Lessomm spoke to the swordsman. "It would give me a good excuse to pay you back for helping me just now." And a good excuse to return the cracked ribs favor to some random stranger. Or strangers, more likely. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers in the gauntlets. This would prove interesting either way. On one end there was the Ebonstryfe and helping them would provide ample targets and a good reason. On the other hand were the masses, which would give the Eypharian an interesting opportunity to test himself against a few Ebonstryfe. Both choices would prove to be interesting. The day just became a very interesting one.

[Sevris]

There were many things happening at once that was beginning to make Sevris's head spin. But he willed himself to keep a straight head. Usually this was a time where he was surrounded by so many possible enemies, he would whip out his Double-Bladed sword and began a massacre. He would only do that if directly attack. As no man stands alive after throwing blows his way. The Eypharian whom he had helped just now was now offering his services in return for his saving. Sevris was instantly curious and made a quick note to observe more from him if he were to become useful. "Just call me Paladin Shade. And yourself? Also if you mean to help then we must take out the ones instigating this brawl. Once they are out, my men can calm the crowd more easily." He was going to point to a heavy crowd when a spotted a young boy charging towards him fist drawn. Out of all this mayhem this was the most amusing thing to the Lazarin. Suddenly the women from earlier tackled him to the ground. Was she trying to save him? Because Sevris was certainly going to fell him. Either way this twice he had noticed her and he would also make note to find her after this crazy battle royale. But the battle did care for their little break. A crowd bustled its way over towards them, and one of them actually pushed an unaware Sevris on his back. Someone began to stomp on him hard as they saw a potential victim on the ground. Sevris head hit the ground once before he braced for another attack. The boots pummeled his hands and he was instantly furious. A rage he hadn't felt in a long time burst forward. As the attacker pulled his leg up for a hard stomp. Sevris kicked his leg out in a low and precise kick. It caught the front of his kneecap, the hard kick gave him a resounding pop as he broke his leg inward. The cries of the man were drowned out by the beating of others around him. Sevris was in a frenzy when stood back up. "That's it! You must seek death to attack me. And I shall grant it." He loomed over his weakened prey and without hesitation, plunged his sword into his heart. Time to crack down.

[Theur]

An explosion came from Theur’s side, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to the ground. He fell hard, harder than what it should have been. He fell with a bounce, he fell with a small slide and he rested on something warm; something wet. A burning pain erupted from his back. His blurry eyes sharpened themselves as a rage filled him. Immediately he began to move but found he couldn’t, something prevented him from moving; a human, a rather bumpy, curvy human. His hateful eyes fell to hair coloured hay. His free arm would have crashed down upon that head elbow first; that was until a resounding pop filled the air. The boy’s eyes wandered to where that sound came from and what he saw darkened his expression. Theur was no stranger to dead bodies but seeing the act of killing was an entirely different matter. The Ebonstryfe had killed someone. With no time to think he felt a hand on his arm, the same arm that was supposed to strike the head and was pulled away. A group of four people circled above him as an equal number of feet came down onto him. The first few hits all met their mark; arm, rib and thigh the next few fell on arms and legs raised up. Theur had assumed the fetal position which helped albeit a little. These were men, their blows hit hard and his limbs were becoming numb. One of the blows forced the boy to slide; a small trail of blood followed. Theur winced in pain and he dropped his guard for a moment. Suddenly a foot came down catching on the fat on boy’s arm (the fat found on your tricep). It ripped and drew blood, it was his non dominant arm but all the more it hurt. He rolled to the side as one arm clasped his new wound just as another foot found its place on Theur’s lower back. This time he spun, the pain all around him. By chance he saw Lessomm through a parting of legs, and then he remembered something. Again the boy took on the fetal position but this time orange droplets dotted his arms invisible to all but Theur and Lessomm. Little help it did when it went against a foot; there wasn’t enough shield; he was drawing too little djed; he had to dig deeper. He imagined a storm underneath his skin focusing on it meanwhile the barrage of feet continued. Theur wasn’t even trying to dodge he was just trying to hold out. A pulse resonated in his arms; Lessomm’s words repeating over and over inside his head. “Protect” Just as a foot came down again his arm exploded. Orange ooze flew, landing wherever and whenever they happened to chance upon, hardening in the process, most though covered his arms. His shield had never done this before; exploding but then again it worked. Theur felt no pain. A smile formed, finally it was Theur’s turn to attack…or so he thought. The foot was raised and with it fragments of orange shield shimmering against what they were tasked to defend. For the second time Theur's face darkened; his shield was dangerously unstable. The sight of an orange shield albeit fragmented bewildered his assailants, giving Theur some much needed breathing room. Through some legs Theur eyed Lessomm; shouting his name but with the ongoing chaos, it was hard to say if he actually heard it. That same shout seemed to remind Theur’s assailants what they were doing and continued moving the boy again in the process. Through another pair of legs he saw the same hay like hair from before. This time however he saw the full picture; a woman. The boy needed help; that same person saved him once from the Ebonstryfe he wondered if she would do so again. He yelled again; no words just him shouting at the top of his lungs. Shrill, high-pitched, pained not knowing if it reached his target or if it drowned with the ongoing chaos.

[Alea Davenport]

Tumbling to the ground, Alea got separated from the boy. She rolled to her feet as quickly as she could, trying to get her bearings, wondering how it was possible to lose them so many times in such a short fight. The shouting of the Ebonstryfe caught her attention. At first she thought it was just typical brawl-taunting, but it drew her eye in time to see the sword mercilessly skewer a man.

That was it, this had just gotten a bit too dangerous for Alea's taste. Time to run, before she was killed next. She looked around for the boy, intending to grab his hand and make a run for it. She caught sight of him on the ground under a mass of stomping feet. She tried to shove her way through to him, but then something worse happened.

A globby, orange light flew out of the boy, and Alea barely had time to dodge behind another brawler to avoid being hit by the stuff. She did not know what it might do to her, and she had no desire to find out. The boy was a mage. Now there were two dangerous people that Alea wanted nothing to do with.

A survival instinct that was becoming all-too-familiar lately manifested itself in the form of a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she ran. She kept low, dodging carefully between the clumps of fighters. She made sure not to draw attention to herself, and that combined with her small frame allowed her to slip through the crowds with relative ease. It was hard to avoid getting knocked over a few times, but as long as she just kept running and did not retaliate, no one drew her into a conflict.

Alea did not waste time looking behind her to see if she was being followed. The edge of the brawl was visible; if she could just get past it she would be clear to run all the way home and forget this whole thing happened.

OOCFeel free to chase Alea. If no one is interested in going after her, then you can assume she escaped and this can be my last post for the thread.

[Lessomm]

Lessomm smiled at the paladin as he figured it funny that they were making new aquaintances in the middle of a brawl like this. "Lessomm, at your service." Lessomm gave a deep nod to the Paladin before turning away from him, readying himself to get to the skull cracking part. After taking a few steps, he noticed the paladin wasn't following and when he turned around the paladin was engulfed by a wave of brawlers. Running back, Lessomm jumped and landed almost on top of one of the brawlers, his gauntlet connecting to the top of the man's head, causing him to slump down to the ground with a sigh. But there were plenty of brawlers around the paladin and Lessomm feared for the man's life for a moment. Until he stood up out of the crowd and pinned one of the attackers down to the ground with his blade. Taken aback by the sudden show of violence, Lessomm swallowed at his choice of ally yet did not run away from him. Instead, from underneath his shirt, he moved his hands and started unbuttoning it, which resulted in his shirt seemingly unbuttoning itself as his two gauntlet covered hands were still next to his body. It was most likely a very creepy sight to onlookers who decided to watch. Once the shirt was unbuttoned, Lessomm dropped it to the ground, revealing all six of his arms, four of which flashed down to his belt and sliding into the remaining four gauntlets that rested there. "Let's hope he's not too Ravokian..." Lessomm muttered to himself as he threw himself once more into the group of brawlers that had been kicking the paladin, raining steel fists on shoulders, arms, faces, ribs, whereever he could get to them. With one hand he grabbed a man by the shoulder and spun him around to face him. The next moment a second steel fist rushed into the man's stomach, knocking him over on his knees. At the same time another hand blocked an incoming fist and a fourth gauntlet hit the man in the chin, the spikes on the knuckles of the gauntlet piercing the man's skin and flesh, drawing blood. The rest of the paladin's attackers broke off quickly and retreated into the crowd. With his heart beating in his throat and the world seemingly in a haze of red, Lessomm looked around, panting. For a moment he only sensed it, the use of magic, and he spun around, peering into the crowds as he tried to find the source of it. The more he turned, the more he felt the direction of the Djed being used. Finally, his eyes rested on a group of men stomping and kicking someone on the ground, not an unfamiliar sight in this brawl. And then he heard it, only barely, over the chaos. His own name. "Paladin Shade!" Lessomm let out a shout towards the swordsman before he jumped into the group, shoulder first. For a moment the group budged under his assault and the kicking eased up on their target. In that moment Lessomm recognized the boy Theur. And then the group started to push back and the boy disappeared once more under feet and legs. From the group, a few men broke off and bore down on Lessomm with kicks and punches. And from the side, seeing a weaker prey, more brawlers drew in towards the Eypharian. Some wielded nothing, other carried pieces of wood. One even carried a short blade with blood dripping from it. Six arms rose up in defense as Lessomm blocked a punch and swayed his head to the left from another punch. His own fist lashed out and the studs on his gauntlet burried themselves in a man's cheek, knocking him off of his feet. A piece of wood swung in from the side and Lessomm ducked away, blocking the impact with his shoulder before punching a teethed gauntlet right through the makeshift club and into the attacker's forearm. More attacks burst in on him and Lessomm felt himself backing down more and more, further away from the young boy. This was not a place for a boy like Theur. Even with his magical potential the boy was in a dangerous place. Feeling the adrenaline rush through his body, Lessomm managed to halt his backwards advance and stopped the brawlers in their tracks. Their grim expressions and their wild attacks continued but Lessomm pushed back with equal force, taking a step forward for every step backwards. The palading lay forgotten in his mind. His entire being was focused on getting to the boy. Another punch lashed out and Lessomm heard a resounding crack as his fist touched the man's chin, who promptly sunk to the ground. Under a constant barrage of fists, feet, wood and the single blade, Lessomm's body felt the need to react on its own. Bubbling up from beneath his physical being, his Djed pushed up through his body towards his skin. Invisible to normal eyes, the blue liquid trickled out of his pores at first but quickly turned into a river of Djed as it rushed all over his skin, settling underneath his clothes and gauntlets. As Lessomm continued to dodge and block attacks made on him by the Ravokians, his mind was focused on two simple tasks. 'Don't get hit' and 'get to the boy'. His Djed immediately absorbed one of those tasks as a shielding order and started forming the familiar hexes. At first, the Djed was still liquid and the hexes were few and far between but the longer the fight continued, the more solid looking hexes appeared from the liquid. Before long, Lessomm was covered in overlapping hexes, almost like a reptiles skin, or a fish' scales. While his body was tiring out, Lessomm managed to dodge less and less fists but more and more attacks bounced off his body harmlessly. Only the wooden clubs still managed to hit him and hurt him. The knife had nicked him twice already and the longer the fight continued, the more Lessomm slowed down. His breathing was ragged and panting and beads of sweat ran down his cheeks and nose and dripped down into the dust of the ground. From his right, someone swung a piece wood towards his face. Lessomm's hand moved up to block the attack. Under the impact, the wood cracked and splintered as it exploded on the gauntlet. The impact knocked Lessomm to his left and out of nowhere a fist moved up to try and hit him in the face. Although it seemed to connect, it bounded off harmlessly from his skin as the shield blocked the attack.

[Nemesis]

Alea Davenport

Skills	*	*
Brawling	*	+2
Bodybuilding	*	+1
Observation	*	+3
Weapon: Fruit and Veg	*	+1

Lores

* Brawl at a Dance Show!

*

*

*

*
*
Consequences, Injuries, Expenses, and More!

• In here
• And here

Lessom

Skills	*	*
Skill 1	*	+??
Skill 2	*	+??
Skill 3	*	+??

Lores

* Lore ??

* Lore ??

* Lore ??

*
*
Consequences, Injuries, Expenses, and More!

• ??
• ??

[indent]Sevris

Skills	*	*
Observation	*	+2
Unarmed Combat	*	+1
Weapon: Longsword	*	+2

Lores

* Brawl at a Dance Show!

*

*

*
*
Consequences, Injuries, Expenses, and More!

• Investigating the death at the brawl, Ebonstryfe Commanders have reprimanded Sevris for the unnecessary murder of a citizen.

[indent]Theur

Skills	*	*
Skill 1	*	+??
Skill 2	*	+??
Skill 3	*	+??

Lores

* Lore ??

* Lore ??

* Lore ??

*
*
Consequences, Injuries, Expenses, and More!

• ??
• ??

__________

• Nice thread guys, though I'm not sure about the concept of a high ranking member of the Ebonstryfe murdering a citizen out of anger.
• Lessomm, Theur, if you return, please send me a PM and I will share your grades.