Fire Master's return! (open challenge to our veteran fighters)

[Inferno Dragon]

OOC: for those of you who weren't here when I joined, fire master was my original user name and character for the multiple battlefields. he was a pyromancer, or fire wizard if you will, and I'd like to start using him as well as inferno in my battles. but I'd like to fight someone here who might remember him first to re-aquaint myself with my lost character.

Fire Master: that's right, I'm back! I finally got free from Inferno and I'm ready to cause some chaos on the battlefield again! Ah but alot of you may not remember me. you see, back when Inferno first came to this land, known as the nintendoland battlefield at the time, I was his human form. I allowed him to blend in with your kind. However, when he heald his tournament here he reverted to his half-breed self and forgot about me. for six long years I tried to regain controll but to no avail. Well, that is until Tiamat was kind enough to seperate me from Inferno, and now I'm free to cause as much chaos around here as I want! now, who wants to face my wrath first?

the rules are standard gunjin rules.

fire master will be my combatant.

I'm ready to have some old school fun with one of our veterans, whoever accepts can choose any character you want and you can choose the battlefield too.

[1-up Salesman]

i'll use my character Rael!the 15-year-old fighter! he can turn into a wolf, and has a mace, a sword, and a shield.

BRING IT OOONNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!: grumble:

[Repster]

1 up salesman. This challenge was clearly for a veteran of the battlefield, which you clearly are not.

I'll take this. Post to come later.

[Repster]

The sun had passed it's zenith. About half past noon the wanderer judged. His view of noon anyway. He did not much believe in the steady tickings of a clock for the phases of a day. Morning was from dawn until noon, noon was the hour of which the sun was at it's highest. Moving on to day followed by dusk when the sky was a canopy of colors from the setting sun. Then evening until the hour of midnight when the moon peeked, and then comes the night before dawn when the sunrise filled the sky with colors once again. This was the hottest time of the day, the sun having peaked some time ago and even as it settled and cast lesser and lesser amounts of it radiance, the temperature still yet rose. This was a simple constant, no matter the land. He had seen those that are in perpetual night for half the year, and day the rest, yet day and night they are.

The wind howled as his relentless stride took him towards the metallic ruins of ancient refineries. Deep within the desert this was, the scorching heat which to dehydrate a man in an hour and guarantee the vultures a hot meal by the time they descended upon him. Those monoliths of iron and steel rose around him. Strange natural formation, and small mountains of sandstone as well. Those would hold caves, shade, and survival for most. Not he who walked forward, onwards and deeper into the desert did he go.

Sand swirled around his peculiar robes. Purest of white, pristine, and loose. The left sleeve oddly cut short descending halfway his bicep, not scissors or knife could make such a wound in silk. A neat tear more then a cut. There was no doubt the right sleeve was torn, bits and piece hung lose were it ended at the shoulder. Almost unbroken and perfect the robes descended to the knees were it was torn asunder much like the right sleeve, a messy affair. A strange line, some strange imperfection tarnishing the silk. A perfect line this tarnishing was, from neck to beneath right rib, and continuing to his back and just beyond his spine. It seemed to move as the fabric did, never wanting to change from it's position relative to the man. Belt of crude leather, a strip torn of a creatures hide, was adorned with ring of silver and a buckle of more. In a dragon the buckle was shaped with stranger red gems for eyes, eyes in golden sockets. A flask of silver clipped to the right side on a ring more solid then the others. Beneath said robe could be seen the trousers, composed of the same pure silk. Loose they were to fit a man thrice his size with ease, and so was the result of a mass of folds. A strip, of a perfect cut, to bind the silk above the ankles.

Bare feet trudged threw the white disorienting sand, rightly so was this named the Sandsea. Small dunes rolled and rose and fell with the winds much as the waves, if the movement taking countless hours instead of moments. Onwards he walked, heedless of the inhabitants of this land on and around the metal framework towering all around. Solid shafts they seemed, with a crosswalk around each, links to another, and another all about, broken bridges decayed in time. There were more then the simple small scavengers, and the plantlike beings that doted the land. He could feel them, great being of heat up there, in towers of which the denizens rightly staid away from. Then there were the vultures, scouring the skies waiting for the Sandsea to take a life so that they may feast.

Short and long red hair of countless tones, both bright and vibrant orange and some not so much. Tanned skin, and branded, Aidan Dreiks did walk. Not a bead of sweat on his brow. Gold dragon that spiraled upon the length of his right arm, tail on shoulder head laying on hand, it glittered in the blistering sunlight. Like gold it was, and similar was his left forearm. Tarnished brass shone for the dragon there. Wings seeming to be more of dorsal fins like those strange fish in the rare oasis. Armor of fire it seemed on his left arm, at the bicep barely covered by the sleeve, whip of countless tail clenched in fiery gauntlet hand. Rune upon rune upon rune haphazardly across his bare flesh. Arcane some, divine others, more of simple lettering known and forgotten, but all sharing in significance and nature. With the back of a hand a single strand moved aside from brow, the only long enough to reach yet short enough not to hamper sight, and fire was revealed within the palm. A single flame, mirrored in shape, if not tone, it the hand's twin.

His scar, from above the left eye and down, down, down, did it go. It connected perfectly to the tarnishing on his robe. Even the wrappings around said empty eye socket, of the same silk the man bore, did not break the line. On the bandaging tiny runes forming another larger rune also did not break the scar, being discolored where it crossed them. About the size of an eye was that marking on the silk, in blood it seemed to be made. So did other runes frame his face. From chin lining his smooth shaven jawline long the temple and joining. Three formed a triangle around a flaring sunburst in midforehead. The right golden eye glowed with feral intensity, madness, amusement, sadness, and serenity. The smirk across his lips held amusement alone.

So the blacksmith did walk, with a gulp from his flask and drunken sway. So the monk did wander, with grace to rare to behold. So the madman did pace, impatient for something to do. So did vultures smile, this one death followed and a meal soon after. So did Aidan Dreiks move, battle soon to begin.

[1-up Salesman]

aw, crap.

hey, you're pretty good at writing stories, as i can tell from your post. ever make fan-fictions?

[Galefore]

Um, dude, keep this kind of thing to PMs, 1-up. This is a battle topic, not a chat thread, mang.

[Inferno Dragon]

the wanderer heard a faint chuckle from behind him and spun around to see a tall man in a silken hooded crimson robe. ihe robe itself did not seem like silk at first glance, but rather it appeared to be a robe formed of blood that still flowed like a river over the form of the man wearing it as it blew in the slight breeze of arid winds. tied around the man's waist was a belt with a blood ruby lodged into the front center of the belt. The hood of this garment obscured all view of the face of the wearer by covering the face with heavy shadows. all that could be seen in the hood were two angled flames where the eyes would be. the hands of the cloaked man were covered with crimson cauntlets that stayed ablaze no matter the weather or environment and gripped tightly in the right gauntlet was a long slender golden staff that ended in a firey crystal orb at its tip.

Firemaster: you must be lost because no sane man wanders into my domain willingly. That is, unless you have a reason for being in my domain of heat traveler. allow me to introduce myself, I am Fire master, manipulater of the mystical art of pyromancery. please traveler, enlighten me as to who you might be and your reason for being here so that I may send my condolences to your home town or next of kin once you die here in my desert.

the stranger smiles evily to the traveler as he stands still staring with firey eyes out from the shasow under the silken hood.

[Repster]

The monk laughed, and took a swig from his flask. The laugh one one whom has long since embraced it's madness. It held an undertone to it as if within the inferno of a burning house, and none worried about it.
"I never claimed to be sane, child." His voice carried the same undertone of fire, if more relaxed. His tone, pure amusement.
"I am Aidan Dreiks. My home would slay thee, or thy messenger. As fo' mah kin, well ya oughta be happeh that they ain't be amongst the living no more so you don't gots no buisiness wif mah crib, yo."

His left leg stretched, slowly brushing the sand as he took a fighting stance. Slightly crouched, ready to pounce. If the blood robed one thought to set fear in the heart of the blacksmith, he would have to try much harder. Much harder indeed.
"This ain't your turf, kid. Little white fellow that kinda looks like a mouse said there was somebody raising trouble out here. I myself could not deny the request of such a cute little critter."

He shifted into simply standing there, casually. His smirk grew.
"I'd duck if I were you 'Fire Master', but then I'd also be a wussy arrogant mage now would I not?"
Aidan place his hand to his chin and pondered the thought as his left leg shot upwards. A straight kick to the sky that did not affect his stance. A rock, gathered and clutched between his toes a moment ago, flew straight and true right up a red hood and in the middle of a pair of fiery eyes. The barefooted one took a swig from his flask, none to concerned of the other one's presence. His leg lowered, his flask reclipped, his hand casually back down in the folds of his pants. With the stance of one inebriated, smirk on his lips, the golden eye watched, and waited.

[Inferno Dragon]

The mage stood there unphased by the rock that had just flown between his eyes. Fire master chuckled a little at this attempt to harm him as the same rock fell from the interior of his robe to his feet. the rock was smoaking as if it had passed through the flames of a forge.

Fire master: a tip to you drunkard blacksmith, don't ever assume that what you see is as you percieve it.

The mage slowly pulled the hood back to reveal that beneath it was a firey head with the two flames that represented eyes turning to green flames before fixing the hood back the way it was.

Fire master: you see, I can shift my form between physical and firey at a whim, and because you're attack was so predictable it was easy enough to avoid. Now let me show you a sample of what this "wussy arrogant mage" is cappable of drunken blacksmith.

Fire master smirked in the darkness of his hood as he pointed his staff at the feet of the blacksmith. a stream of white flames spewed from the firy orb at the tip in a flowing stream of firey death speeding towards the blacksmith. Aidan quickly jumped back a few feet just in time as the flames impacted with the sand and instantly froze the sand in mid impact into glass. The mage approached the patch of glass and picks it up, showing the blacksmith.

Fire master: heh, this isn't even from my hotest flames, its edges razor sharp and it is thick enough to be used in one of your churches. here, have a look for yourself!

and with the flick of the wrist the glass ignited as it flew at the drunken blacksmith's throat with enough speed that, if not stopped the cutting edge would surely decapitate Aidan.

[Repster]

Aidan much like a viper, struck. Speed was not the only thing of the snake he used, like said viper his mouth was the business end, catching the molten,cooled, and reheated sand. The flames licking at his lips being ignored. The glass crunched as his fangs bit through it, and he spat out the useless shards. None concerned was he with the blood that hit the sand with them. It seemed to boil.
"My churches? I think not. First, no churches, monasteries, quite a bit of a difference. Second, not mine. You'd be surprised to see what I see, let alone perceive. Oh yes, yes you would" He spoke between chuckles.

Then, then he who wears white moved. He did not charge, he did not walk, he did not run, sprint, leap, or even stumble towards Fire Master. Such pure grace and raw speed had no word to describe it. Thus, he moved, and was upon Fire Master. Fingers curled into a claw and grasping for a skull to crush. He gripped, and the mage's head became a flame once again. The monk did not lose his grip. He dragged the flames, that the staff wielder had for eyes dancing in now pure fire, level to his eye.
"Also. Not. bloody. Flaming. Impressed. Capiche?" Aidan's smirk turned to a grin at the expression he perceived within the "eyes". "You would think, or rather... I would think considering you don't seem able to, that the signs are painfully obvious..."

Fire Master recovered from the shock. This man could grasp fire as easily, if not more so, then flesh. He needed to get away. This is the point where the monk's other fist struck him squarely in his stomach, right besides the ribs, and he tried to double over. Yet Aidan still held firm, much as with a handful of hair. It hurt. It mattered not a wit if flesh of flame it was, beneath those robes. Aidan hurt him. For that was his intent, and Aidan's will was a powerful thing.
"First, I don't sweat. Kinda a key point in the desert."
Then came the second, and third strike. Each moving along the ribs more and more. This was the point were ribs usually failed, whether currently flesh or not. This was far from the first time Aidan punched fire that had been flesh.
"Then oh lookit that, gold dragon on one arm, brass on the left, being of fire above that, fire, fire, fire.I've got a red on my chest, drakes below it, and a phoenix on my back, care to guess at my legs? Branded across my flesh. Hrmmm what could THAT mean?"
Aidan's leg, midway between foot and knee, crashed into the weakened ribs, and broke one if not more. Most mages would lose three in the monk's experience, they were usually the frail sort. The flame branded palm released the mage as the leg hit sending him face down into the burning sand. Slightly out of reach for both. After all, the man in the red robes was trying to get free. His attempts were futile when Aidan could render the useless so easily, but he might have succeeded with a moment more before being tossed about. Better not to take any chances.

"Third is my bare feet in the scorching sand. Feels nice between mah toes, it does."
Some thought Aidan was not one to kick a man when he was down. They were right, but he did it anyway. The blacksmith took a step, and punted Fire Master a few feet up, but not away. Closer if anything.
"Fourth, my voice ain't no pansy little bloody trick. I don't hide who I am, boy." The undertone was louder.
Just as the fire eyed man crested his rise, the golden eyed one brought down his elbow. Not unlike a hammer striking an anvil. Straight to the base of the spine did Aidan strike, the force accelerating the red one down. Not far mind as Aidan's foot had already been whirling about the kick that sent him away. Once again in the ribs. That made six, the softening of fire compared to flesh could only go so far. And counted for very little in the first place.

The mage bounced then skidded. Aidan rose his arms in victory. He always did get a pang of success when he got them to bounce. A tricky art. With a swig of his flask, he waited for Fire Master to drag himself up.
"Fifth... well I could just go on and on and on and on. Probably to subtle for you soon enough if you missed the blunt warnings. I bear the Eternal Flame, child. Fire is the last thing that will protect you against me."
He watched, and waited, casually. This was dreadfully boring. He had a decent idea of what was coming soon, if not in the mages next tactic. They were always so drearily predictable, and it was never any more effective from one time to the other. He, one the other hand, was cooking up something perhaps a little more... unexpected.

[Inferno Dragon]

As fire master began to rise he collapsed again and instantly incinerated as did his staff. The monk, the blacksmith, the wanderer smiled triumphantly at the now incinerated mage.

Aidan: just as I thought.

just as his words had escaped his mouth he was struck hard on the side of the head from beind with a staff that ended in a firey orb. the traveler turned to see Fire master standing there un harmed.

Aidan: But... how? I just killed...

Fire master: a clone, more specificly a magical clone of myself. had that really been me I would have used my magic to free myself. they also have the very nice ability to draw your attaks to them keeping me safe. and the transition beteen my self and a clone is virtually... non-existant.

the true fire master reappeared behind Aidan and made three more clones of himself and quickly arranged himself and the clones at five equidistant points around the monk.

Fire masters: blazing penticle formation!

the five slammed the bases of their staffs into the sand, creating a flaming pinticle, or five point star, around Aidan.

fire masters: magma pillar errupt!

from the center of the penticle where Aidan stood a pillar of molten magma errupted from the sands beneath him and quickly engulfed him in the blazing pillar of magma.

[Repster]

"Try again, child." Aidan voice came forth from within the planet's lifeblood. Unhindered by the roar of the geyser. He stepped out, every fiber of his being down to his clothing unsinged. He spat a mouthful of lava, brushed the molten rock from his shoulder much as one would dust, and ignored the pool of molten glass and countless minerals at his feet. In fact, he walked atop it as solidly as the sand. As solid as on bedrock for that matter. It was wrong. There was no force to keep him up, no magic to levitate him. He simply seemed to wish to do so, and that he did.

"So that's one futile attempt off the check list. Let's see wich one you go for next... Such a nuissance. Here I thought you might be of some entertainment. Well, let's see if you can swim." He chuckled taking a swig of his flask.
The monk idly wave his hand aside and sand rose, and crashed upon the clones, and the original. It was not much, however, it did not dissipated and go away. Two feet of sand around the legs was a considerable hinderence. Especially when there was another, larger, wave coming to to roll over them. A foot of sand over there heads if the first was any indication.

The monk yawned as he looked about lazily as he lost sight of the mage and his toys, mayhaps there was something of actual entertainment in this area. There were rumors of some sort about a great beast within the caverns that said to link one end of civilized land to the other. Though... if the rumors were anything like those of Fire Master, he might as well just get in a bar fight somewhere. There was always the off chance of someone worth his time being there. If not, fixing the inevitable collateral damage would be of some distraction.

By the flame he was taking awhile to deal with the sand, or was he really that pathetic... doubtful, but a possibility. He whistled a somewhat cheery tune, might as well wait a bit more. He could not help but chuckle as a few words of the melody came forth from his mouth unbidden.
Welcome to the jungle.