First Death Tournament of the Arena Lord

(Notice: Entry is now closed. No more participants will be granted entry into the first tournament.)

From the center of the vacant arena, a small marble platform raised high into the air--high enough that all those who yearned for battle could hear his message. Throughout infinite space and boundless time, across every dimension connected to Hyrule, his voice would carry to the future combatants of his arena. Upon this towering pedestal, there was a small figure standing no more than three feet tall, cloaked in a black robe with eyes glowing white.

His seldom-heard voice was of such power that it resonated through your entire frame, should you be of a select few who are capable of hearing his message. His words, exceeding description, spoke of a tournament to be held. It would begin no sooner than... the sixteenth of april... a date which no resident of Hyrule seemed to know, yet somehow it was one with which you were familiar. The battles would take place on the very arena he stood, to be seen by you only upon the fabled sixteenth.

Though there was no limit on the number of applicants, and no two combatants could bear the same 'controlling deity.' It would be one combatant against another, with no limits on the depth of violence nor the tools or methods used. There would be no holds barred, and battles would end only in the death of the opposition. To aid this harshness of combat, any memories of one's opponent would be temporarily banished from every combatant's mind upon entering the arena. Nonetheless, all other standard rules of the arena would apply.

The reward for the ultimate victor was described with such magnitude and eloquence of word that you could not understand it, though you could understand that this reward was 'beyond measure' and 'unobtainable to your world.' The best you could make of it was either a 'permanent boost to one's inner strength' or 'countless riches,' whichever seemed most appealing to you, alongside some form of trophy.

He entrusted you to know that as long as their thirst for blood was strong enough, and you willingly or not yearned to thrive or perish in this glorious tournament of warriors, then their entry was already sealed. Through the Lord's own magic, you would be instantly warped to his arena on the appointed date, and presented with your first opponent. Your controlling deity would take care of the rest. This deity would issue your application and any further concerns you or your deity may have, in 'this thread,' here and now.


Combatants
1. Guy (Guy) - 1W/0L - 20 tourney rupees
2. Nicholas (Chaos James)
3. Rift (Seththeshadow)
4. Rika (Eevachu) - 1W/0L - 20 tourney rupees
5. Blyss (Amore) - 0W/1L
6. Silas (Hilariouslink)
7. Sexton (Chaos)
8. Chris (The Janitor) - 0W/1L
0. -Adaar- Removed

Matches: 34 remain
Nicholas vs. Guy
Nicholas vs. Rift
Nicholas vs. Rika
Nicholas vs. Blyss
Nicholas vs. Silas
Nicholas vs. Sexton *In Progress*
Nicholas vs. Chris
Rift vs. Guy
Rift vs. Rika
Rift vs. Blyss
Rift vs. Silas
Rift vs. Sexton
Rift vs. Chris
Rika vs. Guy
Rika vs. Blyss
Rika vs. Silas
Rika vs. Sexton
Rika vs. Chris Rika wins.
Blyss vs. Guy Guy wins.
Blyss vs. Silas
Blyss vs. Sexton
Blyss vs. Chris
Silas vs. Guy
Silas vs. Sexton
Silas vs. Chris
Sexton vs. Guy
Sexton vs. Chris
Chris vs. Guy

Re: First Biannual Death Tournament of the Arena Lord

Through a dimension across space and time, the message echoed in the mind of one Guy Denzrita. The Scrub froze in his tracks, attention suddenly perked. He had experienced much, but such a voice booming such a profound message into his head... was something altogether new. He could only assume it was some form of telepathic message, but over what distance was it sent and from where? ...Who exactly was this "Lord," and why was he so interested in a bloodbath...?

Shuddering in the freezing mountains south of Nabooru, and bewildered out of his mind, Guy somehow nonetheless knew he would soon find himself in a tournament to the death... not terribly unlike one he had experiences years ago, and miraculously survived. He could only hope that he would come out of this one alive as well... and that his 'controlling deity,' whoever or whatever that was, would be on his side.

Re: First Biannual Death Tournament of the Arena Lord

"What an interesting idea," Nicholas thought outloud, breaking the otherwise silence of the countryside. The promise that was made seemed strange and couldn't possibly be granted by any mere mortal, but the idea of a fight seemed to appeal to him.

"Prize or no prize, this sounds like something you don't want to miss."

With those words, Nicholas had sealed his fate, and come this mysterious time, he would find himself in a battle the likes of which he has never before seen.

Re: First Biannual Death Tournament of the Arena Lord

Rift blinked, and shook his head. A thought that was not his own had just been spoken in his mind. A loud, profound thought that overpowered everything else. He knew not where it had come from, so he looked to the most obvious, if not most ridiculous possible source.

"Did you say something?" When his companion didn't answer Rift muttered under his breath. "Fight to the death... not my idea of fun. But that prize sounds very appealing, whatever it may be..."

Whether he wanted to or not, Rift had a feeling that he would be up to his neck in blood whenever this strange Sixteenth of April, whatever it may be, came to pass.

Re: First Biannual Tournament of the Arena Lord (5 days rema

As Adaar quietly dozed against a large tree, a voice entered into his mind. Powerful, yet as if floating on the wind, it spoke of a magnificent tournament to be held soon. Powerful still was some unknown force that compelled Adaar to go to this place... wherever and whenever it was to be.

Before he could fully awaken from his light sleep, the voice was gone, leaving an echo of its power in Adaar's mind. He looked about in confusion, searching around limbs and through leaves in hope of finding the source of the voice.... only silence. Slowly the echo faded into nothingness, leaving Adaar to wonder what truly awaited him on the mysterious event of April 16th.

Re: First Biannual Tournament of the Arena Lord (3 days rema

Blyss awoke to the sound from inside the fort. " Conflict? Blood? I'll be there! The sun better be down though." The reward sounded interesting. An increase in inner power? That'd be a nice little taste of blood to add to her menu.

She popped her neck and stepped outside into the night and looked for the moon. A thought across her head. She was in no way controlled by some Diety, unless it was a rather cruel one. Nor did she know by the passage of time that this date would come, but she knew it would come, and she'd enter into combat.

Re: First Biannual Tournament of the Arena Lord (2 days rema

Silas' wings locked midflight as they rose above his head in preparation to flap. Time seemed to slow, his momentum disappear. Even as a distorted voice spoke through his ears and into his mind, he could still feel his body shift, begin a rapid descent to the ground. Head first. The sixteenth of April...the guardian deity...what was this voice speaking of, and furthermore, what the hell was it doing inside his own head?

And then, it stopped abruptly. Silas struggled to right himself before his skull crashed into the ground. He succeeded and brought himself up in a steady U-turn before gliding among the skies once more. His mind wandered to the message, hearing it speak of a prize, an increase in inner power. The Rito smirked, barrel-rolled through the skies excitedly. This 'tournament' sounded fun, and he'd certainly be there.

Re: First Death Tournament of the Arena Lord (2 days remain!

Sexton thought for a second at the proposition, he didn't like fighting by any means but the idea of countless riches was enough to make a man of his stature quiver. Sexton just nodded, what's the worst thing that could happen? It's not like it would kill him... apparently he didn't know about the death part of the title..

Re: First Death Tournament of the Arena Lord (One day remain

"Chris" sat in silence, frantically scratching into the walls of his house. His stick of charcoal had run low, and the dusty residue had faded from his fingers. His breath was ragged and his hair was hanging like a curtain over his fevered face.

"Ann, Angel, Annelin...." he muttered, his scratching increasing in intensity. His fingers were bloody and his nails broken but the madman didn't notice. "...have to find it, somewhere, darkness DEKU!"

Suddenly, a voice of thunder shook him, vibrating his skull. Tournament...prizes....fighting....

blood.

Suddenly, the fevered man pulled himself to his feet. Brushing off his coat and putting his long hair behind his ears, he grinned wickedly. Claude walked to the boarded window. He had no idea what this "April 16" was, but he could only assume it was some date. And in the dark corners of his mind, he knew it was soon. VERY soon.

Whoever this "controller" was, he hoped he was ready. Looking out from the crack in the boards, he could see that some people were in the streets. Leaning his head back, he sucked in as much air as he could. A blood-chilling scream should bring the doc, and with him, the sword.

This was going to be perfect.

Why is everyone vs. everyone else. How does this work out for a tournament? Isn't it possible for someone to face themselves then?

(Stop the out-of-character chat.)

As you stroll along in life, you suddenly... decide to... blink. But as you open your eyes, you are not where you once were. No, you are now staring down what appears to be a mere Subrosian encased in a black cloak, with eyes more fierce than any description can remotely portray.

Your surroundings were strange; aside from the Subrosians, there were eight other individuals of various races, ages, and walks of life surrounding you, although somewhat strange was the presence of only one female. Every last one of them seemed just as confused at the situation as you. You found your feet standing upon open orange sand, and above you was a darky and cloudy sky. There were several massive, jagged rocks sticking out of the ground nearby, and a few smaller ones which seemed to break off the seven larger ones. Beyond them, the dark desert in which you stood seemed to extend for eternity in all directions... only interrupted occasionally by the rolling of dunes... and what seemed to be a downpour towards the northeast.

But then, the Subrosian spoke. "I am the Arena Lord, and you nine have proven yourselves desiring to join my tournament." His words are spoken with such eloquence and power, they seem to resonate through the entire cosmos and throughout every fabric of your mind and soul... yet at the same time, you can't perceive what is so unusual about this individual's manner of speech. "Do not fret of where you were moments ago. This passing of time exists separately from that one; when this tournament is over, you will have returned to your body unharmed."

"As promised, all the memories of those standing around you have been temporarily banished from your mind. Even if you have a merciful heart, do not worry about killing the opposition. I will personally give life to those who have fallen unto defeat in combat."

The Lord turned away, his cloak whisking in the breeze, "My servant will now give you the details. Enjoy your time here, combatants." The Subrosian proceeded to take several steps away from you and the other eight, before hid body seemed to fade into the air as if it was nothing but smoke.

Abruptly, a deep and gruff voice came from behind you, "Sup." ...It was a Darknut wearing nothing but black leather pants and some form of chainmail shirt, his height towering over not only you but all of those around you. There was something... strangely familiar about him. It was rather obvious from his casual demeanor that he was not in the service of Ganon and had no intentions of doing battle here and now. "Right, so, as you can see... this place is pretty barren, but I can summon any food or anything else you need, you can find the restrooms over there." His hand was thrown back to point out the general location of a modern-looking wooden door behind him, which appeared inexplicably on the jagged rock behind him.

"I would highly advise against going too far into the desert you see around you, though neither I nor the Lord will stop you from doing so." He cleared his throat, then extended a hand to direct your attention to the circle of jagged stones surrounding the group--the diameter of the circle was 100m, give or take. "Anyway, as you can obviously see, you're surrounded by a bunch of rocks. Ignoring the bathroom one, if you and one of your fellow combatants places a hand on a rock simultaneously, both of you will be warped to an arena--the arena for each rock is different. The symbol on each rock corresponds to the them of its arena--Forest, Fire, Water, Light, Shadow, or Spirit."

"If either combatant demands it, or two combatants cannot agree on an arena, then you will fight in the Spirit Arena. According to the Arena Lord, it is the most balanced and offers the smallest preference for any particular fighting style," he shrugged, "even if--in my opinion--it is the most boring of the six."

"Anyway, the arenas are in a time-space separate from this one. Disregarding how long the fight takes in that existence, here it will happen faster than a blink of an eye. As soon as the match ends, you will find yourself in the exact same spot as immediately before the match began. Who wins a match, as always, is decided by the Arena Lord himself, and follows the normal regulations of the Arena."

"Now then," his arms crossed, "As you may already know, this tournament will be done Round-Robin style. That is to say, each of you will fight all of your fellow combatants once each. You all will fight eight times. There is no specified order, and you are free to engage in combat whenever you wish. However, if you are taking an exceedingly long time to finish your rounds in comparison with the other combatants, you may be expelled from the tournament. Whoever has the most victories is the ultimate winner; ties will be dealt with in a fair fashion."

He began to slouch, obviously getting fed-up with his monologue, "For each of your victories, I will give you twenty tourney-rupees. These rupees will not exist within the pockets of your Hyrulean selves until the tournament ends. However, I will accept any amount of them as payment for one of various treasures--weapons, spells, vehicles, etcetera--which I will instantly summon for you upon payment. These treasures can be used in tournament combat, but aside from them, you may only use what you were teleported here with until the tournament ends. Any rupees you do not spend on me will be yours to keep when the tournament ends. This is in addition to whatever rewards we choose to bestow you."

"Finally, you can read a description of each arena on an inscription of the corresponding stone." With a heavy exhalation, he ended with, "Now then, feel free to ask me any questions you wish, or to interact among yourselves. The Lord will be busy watching your matches, but I will be in this central hub until the tournament ends."

Forest Arena (open) Forest Arena (close)

The time of day is early morning, somewhat breezy, cool, and the grass still damp with last night's dew. There is a slight fog filling the air in a tightly-packed woodland composed almost entirely of deciduous trees, spanning what seems like countless miles. The trees sharing an average height of about twelve feet, and block out most of dawn's sunlight fairly well. There is little underlying fauna save unshaven grass approximately a foot high, and the occasional Deku Baba.

Fire Arena (open) Fire Arena (close)

The time of day is midnight, but the air is warm and aglow. The battlefield is a mere 120 feet in diameter, placed atop a plateau surrounded on all sides by right-angle cliffs which seem to extend into nothing. Surrounding the circumference are interspersed at six-feet intervals tall, majestic torches about six feet in height, lighting up the exterior of the arena. The main circle of the arena itself has a slight slope leading downwards towards the middle, at the exact center of which is a small pool of molten rock, about a dozen feet in diameter. Littering the ground are dirt and small stones.

Water Arena (open) Water Arena (close)

The time of day appears to be afternoon, yet the sky is dark with heavy rain which covers the battlefield. The air is crowded with drops striking ground and thunderbolts tearing the sky. In the middle of an infinite ocean, you find yourself standing on a small, almost triangular isle, with each of its three edges about one-hundred feet. The shores lead slowly into the ocean outside, and themselves are composed entirely of sand. Towards the center of the isle, however, the sand gives way to grass, which gives way to five tall coconut trees, ripe for the plucking. The center of the island gradually leads up to about six feet above the shore. Seashells line the outer sands.

Light Arena (open) Light Arena (close)

You find yourself in the interior of a perfect cube which seems to defy any sort of time or place. Each side is composed of four-hundred slightly off-white tiles a foot in length and width, their composition not unlike marble. (In other words, each side of the cube is 20 feet long at its shortest point, and the distance from the floor to the ceiling is also 20 feet.) Walking onto one of the walls or even the ceiling allows you to walk upon the surface as if gravity itself has shifted only for you. The light source, though it is not perceivable as such, is a dim glow given off by each and every tile, which in turn fills the entire area with bright illumination.

Shadow Arena (open) Shadow Arena (close)

Just after sunset, you find yourself in winding alleyways of a strange city you have never seen, its buildings of a design similar to the more tighter areas of Castle-Town. Walking its streets are countless thinly-spaced dummies, who appear somewhat like thin hylians without clothing who are completely black, with a white sheet of paper over their otherwise-featureless face. The buildings themselves are strangely lacking in doors, and each is no more than one or two stories high. Otherwise, the streets themselves are very akin to those you could find in any Hylian city, even featuring dummies talking to each other in tongues foreign to you or engaging in commerce. The dummies will react much like Hylians. Though the streets and alleyways are mostly dark, each combatant is summoned near a torch which can be removed from a bracket on the wall. Though spaced out rarely, various other torches can be found in the alleys as well. Unlike all other arenas, the two combatants cannot see one another when the match begins. This shadow-city is surrounded on all sides by a thirty-foot impassable wall, which has a diameter of about two-hundred feet.

Spirit Arena (open) Spirit Arena (close)

Examine the world around you here and now, and devoid it of all other life forms, for that shall be where you engage in combat.

"Oh, and before I forget: You may interact here and now as you wish. For each of your tournament bouts, however, your controlling deity must make a separate thread. This thread must follow the nomenclature as follows:

'TOURNEY: Your opponent's name vs. Your name.' Obviously, which arena the battle takes place on should have already been decided here or through some other means of communication.

Don't worry too much if that last bit makes no sense to you, but it needed to be said."

Blyss chuckled, thinking of fights with each of these people, but the only one that'd she feel bad about doing is that one... the boy, who looked exactly like Akir. He'd be second. " Hey, Pinocchio, I'll take you on first. How about a bout in the fire?"

She yawned, purposely trying to irk the competition. The most annoyed they are the better, I want an all out fight

Sexton stared off at the group of people he was about to fight.. he didn't know what he had gotten himself into. A few of them seemed kind of unstable, as if they would kill him without hesitation. Despite the Darknut's powers to bring him back, he didn't want to experience death in the first place. He took a sigh and decided to go to the bathroom to hide out and hope to go under the radar. Maybe he doesn't bring back the dead and this is secretly a last man standing type of ordeal.

The only thought he could think of when he entered where how nice their facilities were. Very wide bathroom almost as if a fight was supposed to take place here as well. Everything in the bathroom was solid white in color. It had four sinks, four toilets, two urinals, and a shower. The only shabby part of it was a dim flickering light overhead.

No-one seemed to have noticed him. Perfect. Claude rubbed his hand through his freshly cut hair and smiled. Surprise was his friend here, and he knew it. Behind the others, he focused magical energy throughout his body. The illusion cast, his hair looked curly and red, and freckles covered his face. Hiding his rapier under his coat, he walked towards the somehat oddly dressed child nearby. He was wearing a red hat, and his hair was an odd green.

Assuming a friendly persona, he tapped the child's shoulder. "Hey there." He hated this act, but he had to get these people off guard. "How about a battle? That Shadow place seems rather interesting."

Nicholas glanced around the group of strangers, taking in general information about this rag-tag group of fighters bent on killing each other for prizes that have no clear definintion. While it was true he had also joined the tournament, Nicholas was more curious then bloodthirsty, and could always use the practice of battle.

Glancing to his side, he almost missed the back of a Hylian heading into the bathroom. Looking around the group once more, before following the man into the bathroom. The place was strange compared to an outhouse on farmland, but Nicholas was more intrigued by the strange Hylian's choice of retreat.

"Why did you run off so fast? Scared?"

Completely ignoring the freakishly-pale Kokiri's words, not even caring who 'pinocchio' is, Guy was busy pondering his strategy on how to best defeat the competition. A couple mages, a sniper... thankfully, not one of them seemed to be in a proper suit of armor, or even stone skin. The only one who might have a good chance of evading or blocking his knives was the Rito, and really, that one didn't look the most intimidating anyway. Regardless, the tournament would just have to be now, when he was practically unarmed and devoid of any his old abilities, wouldn't it?

...He pondered of his siblings, and his comrades, wondering if one of them could be here without his knowledge. Unto Guy, it was actually quite disturbing, considering this so-called Lord held such power and flung it around so casually... what else could be erased from his mind in the blink of an eye?

"So... since you've invited questions..." The mere Scrub took a couple steps towards the monumental Darknut, inquiring rather directly, "Who exactly are you, and the Lord? ...With all the power that Subrosian possesses, why does he waste his time with this?"

Sexton stood at the urinal having a fairly hard time getting anything to work until the imposing voice of a Hylian walked into the bathroom which frightened Sexton enough to start.. He tried not to show it as he finished at the urinal and turned around, atleast now he wouldn't piss himself later. "I think the better question is why were you so quick to pursue. You hiding some secret passion?" he spat off a one liner with a smile on his face.

Nicholas couldn't help but laugh at the man's suggestion. "No thanks, I'm more of a romantic, you'd have to at least take me to dinner first." Nicholas chuckled again, a silly grin crossing his face. "But in all seriousness, I just needed a quick way to choose an opponent, and since you ran off to the washroom, it was easy to single you out as my first opponent."

Stretching his arms, Nicholas glanced around the bathroom. Wow did it turn awkward fast, silence is quite the cruel mistress.