[i]Something was coming.[/i] [i]Marcia Rosegold, worshipper of the being known as Raidriar and one of the current magic users at the Dojo had sensed it, the presence being miles away from the Dojo itself - but it was coming. Busting out of her apartment, the blind girl immediately began drifting towards the general direction of the magical anomaly, her brunette hair and singular twirl of hair flying in the intense winds that brewed into the Dojo that day, lightning and rain crashing down upon the land of Tatakai as wild and as violent as ever.[/i] [i]The Gelidus Desert...it had to be coming from the Gelidus Desert...[/i] [i]As more bright electricity flashed throughout the skies, Marcia suddenly stopped in place, her boots skidding across the muddy ground as she froze in place. Her blinded eyes widened with terror - as billions of visions suddenly spewed into her mind, visions of death, destruction...the assimilation of everything, the birth of the true ultimate being.[/i] [i]And that being...the one that Marcia saw tear through planets, incinerate galaxies, and annihilate the order of space, time and reality itself...it couldn't be. Marcia gasped, before a scream escaped her throat as her face turned a deathly pale, before the visions...that suddenly ceased. Leaving behind the strong magical anomaly, the raging storm above...and Marcia, who was left terrified of the future.[/i] ((Closed. Plot post will be up tomorrow.))

Bump for later.

[b]Chosen[/b] .....it was the word that burned within the man's mind, as he walked the courtyards of the Dojo, aimlessly and without due cause. Chosen, as a wielder of a keyblade. Chosen, as one of Nocturnal's trinity. Chosen, as the one trodden beneath so many of this place...... he put his hands in his pockets, and sighed. He was tired of this, not having much reason to stick around.....save one. he was bound, no matter his current state, to find someone worthy of wielding a keyblade.... [i]Hours later..[/i] Alpha sat on a bench, sighing, he was picking at something on his arm while writing in his journal. However......he wasn't alone, and he almost jumped when he heard a voice behind him. [u]"kid, you got a moment?"[/u] Jared asked, quietly. Alpha obviously didn't trust him, he'd heard the stories, the jokes. "Depends." [u]"Good"[/u] jared held his left hand out, and his personal keyblade, CounterPoint, appeared, looking garish with its purple and gold trimmings "what is that?" [u]"Your future"[/u] ((open))

[b][u][i]Shape up[/i][/u][/b] [b]It was early, and the Lounge of Blades was having a rather slow morning. There a few guards scattered about the Lounge, and three Bartenders serving the people. Royal sighed, looking around at the place he had created and owned [/b] "Alright, Jackson how's business?" [b]He sat down, asking one of the waiters the question as said waiter plopped a cup of black coffee in front of Royal [/b] [i]"Well boss, it's actually been Really well. Everyone's paying, respecting the rules." [/i] "How's the crew?" [i]"Waiters are efficient, tenders are quick, fair. Great crowd." [/i] "I'm glad." [b]Royal took a sip as Jackson went back to work. The door swung open, and Royal looked at the person that had entered [/b] "Morning." [spoiler]Open![/spoiler]

A rift in space and time erupts amoung one of the many mountains. Through its maw one could see the undeniable untruths of the universe in color before becoming hopelessly brain dead. And through it walked a single man in unrecognizable gear. His warplate is painted an absolute black that seems to seep away the light around it. It is also inlaid with a red crystals that glow bright red like fire. He does not wear a helm instead his face is that of an avenging angel, his hair fashioned into a wild vibrant red mane. Across his back a cape made from the pelt of a massive black wolf. His weapon of choice long forgotten and given a valuable replacement. The chain ax was inscribed with runes that shifted as they were looked upon and hard to gaze at with mortal eyes. Its edes flickered with an unnatural fire. He was here before and he came in search of his mentor to settle the age old question of the ancient Dojo. "Who is the better"

[b]Be Gone, Foul Beast[/b] Luana watched as the Dojo was torn asunder. The wall was dismantled, piece by piece, giving way to the huge creatures that marauded the plateau above mountains. They were made of ever hanging liquids, slithering up and town a skeletal frame and infecting everything it touched. Civilians crawled away, hope draining from their feeble mortality as parasites pushed from their body, exorcizing organs and making them husks twitching on the concrete. Shades, demons hopped from burning shingle buildings, mercilessly hunting down and executing all who remained. People attempted to run to the doors, only shredded by the burning guns held by the demonic creatures, horns flickering with fire and strange fungi on their barren bodies mutating wildly. Above the scene of chaos was two eyes brandished into the sky. They were violent and burned with fury, boring into the souls of those who stared into its eyes. The Shade. With a gulp of guilt, releasing that the attack was no fault of her own, she pushed the large doors of the Dojo open, shoving aside dead corpses. The creatures turned to her, their maws foaming at the delicious human scent, as Luana called forth her allies. [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

[b][u]The Other New Arrival Of a The Day[/u][/b] [i]As per usual, more newbies were arriving at the Dojo. After the scarlet-haired super soldier earlier, people had their hands full. However, as dusk was setting, a few more people came through the gates. One of them stuck out from the rest - mainly due to the fact that she had enough weapons to take out an entire platoon. Along with said weapons, she had a somewhat odd looking armor suit. As for her physical appearance, she had hair and eyes the color of blood and some splatters on her body that looked a helluva lot like it. She also had a few visible scars and a couple missing fingers. Though she looked like she could cause some serious trouble if she put her mind to it. However, she decided not to and instead walked around for a few minutes before finding the Lounge of Blades. She walked up to the bar and asked for a drink. When the bartender denied her the drink, insisting she pay a rather large price compared to the rest of the drinks there, he was met with a lethal dose of electricity. Lycoris, the unofficial Asari owner of the bar, was coaxed off her couch by this and approached the new woman. They talked for a second before the woman reached behind the bar to grab what she had originally wanted. The duo proceeded to head back to where the Asari was before. They both took a seat and continued their conversation. As people walked by, they caught snippets of the conversation which included nothing good.[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

[b][u]The Coming storm[/u][/b] A few dozen kilometres north of the Dojo, a house was being built. To get to it, there was a slim staircase with wide steps winding up the mountain. These steps eventually led up to a plateau, land locked by the mountain around it. Here, the house was being built. It was actually rather large, but knew the effects of coziness. However, only the frame and the flooring for the first floor was actually built. A man with pale blue skin had tied a rope around some planks of oak wood, and threw it it over the side of the frame to begin raising it. His left leg was not exactly...functional. So he was having trouble not slipping and falling right on his ass. He let the planks down, wiping sweat from his brow as he sat down. Grabbing the cane beside him and resting it on his lap. Falk, let out a breath of fatigue. "You've got to be kidding me with this... Ugh." [spoiler]For Zane. [/spoiler]

[u][i]Virtual Reality - Unknown Time[/i][/u] [i]The shapeless rift of the VR room stood endlessly still, it's pitch black walls expanding outwards for hundreds, maybe thousands of miles in its vast void. Not one being was within it, so this was its standard, natural state - just waiting for a sentient being to activate it, and choose a location for an upcoming battle. When suddenly, the walls, flooring and ceiling shifted and changed suddenly, the very room transforming...into something much, much more different than before.[/i] [i][u]Cairo, Egypt - 1989[/u][/i] [i]The nighttime lights that brightened the Cairo night lined the streets of the Egyptian city, the stores and shops of the town closing down for the night as the entirety of the roads were cleared. Still, older cars and trucks lined the sides of the streets, while a few civilians patrolled the sidewalks, cigarettes and newspapers clenched within their hands as the wind rustled through the streets and city. All was silent, until the two arrived, at the spot where the journey of the six they had studied had ended for good, their role in this world fulfilled.[/i] [i]As if suddenly revealing themselves within the city, two figures suddenly appeared in the middle of one of the city's streets; both human, one being a male and the other, a female. The man stood at a height of 5'10, his body a surprising thin, compared to most of the Dojo's members. A buttoned up black shirt hid away his frail body, the pair of navy blue jeans that he wore tightened by a dark leather belt, dirtied and previously tan dress shoes upon his feet. The young man appeared to be between eighteen or twenty-one, with a sharp angular facial structure and jawline, alongside a pale, yet friendly face. Covering the boy's deep, peaceful brown eyes were bits of shaggy dark hair, engulfing his face in a messy - yet oddly likable manner. A smile was upon his face, as if he was indeed a joyful person. As for the woman...she was similar, yet different in several ways as well. Standing at the sane height as her male partner, or 5'10, the woman had a similar body frame, although she had an hourglass-shaped body and seemed much more athletic than her counterpart. Her clothing consisted of a bright white coat that was draped over her body, styled in an old British manner, with tints of velvet red fabric and a handkerchief protruding from the neckpiece present. Deep steel grey fabric leggings could be seen upon her to serve as pants, while a pair of light grey combat boots protected her feet, the surface shined and polished to an unnatural amount. Her oval-shaped face was pale and expressionless, cold and emotionless as if she was prepared for anything that came, steel-colored eyes scanning the area in front of the two. Her light silver hair was tied in a bonnet, the hair gleaming slightly in the darkness of the night, illuminating it with its very presence. One odd thing about both of them is that they had both went into a virtual simulation with no weapons: no firearms, no melee weapons...and they didn't seem like the type to fist-fight anyone. The male of the two spoke first, in a light yet casual tone. Yet, he also seemed as if he was...a troubled young man, to say the least.[/i] "So this is where the great DIO was killed...by your guy, what's-his-face." "Jotaro Kujo, the grandson of Joseph Joestar, Travis. And do not forget, Noriaki Kakyoin was slain here as well as DIO." [i]The woman immediately replied with a quiet, monotone-like voice, like a recording. Yet she also seemed to have tried to remain exceptionally polite to the boy, although she was much more interested in their current location.[/i] "Yeah yeah, whatever." [i]The young man replied quickly, a smirk played upon his face. [/i]"But why are we here, Sarah? I mean - people don't care about shit that happened on Ear-" "Language, Travis." [i]Sarah, once again, responded in her typical tone of voice, yet she had a very faint smile upon her face. Clearly, she didn't mean it the warning too much at all.[/i] "I thought we could at least draw in some people to combat, perhaps see just how deadly One Vision to get. I've practiced for months, just for this place, this...Dojo." "Months, Sarah? Jeez. Now I remember - we haven't seen each other since May! Holy hell, it HAS been a while! So...when they comin'?" "...Soon." [i]Was all that Sarah replied with, as the virtual reality had drug in something else...someone else, in particular. ((Open for combat, and an introduction for Sarah/One Vision and Travis/Due Time.)) ((I'd prefer some 2v2 fights, lol.)) ((Their bios are...exceptionally vague, and for a reason, too. Just so you guys know.)) ((Link to Biographies: Sarah/One Vision - https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/219284791/0/0/1 Travis/Due Time - https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/219313455/0/0/1 [/i]

[i]"The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic." -Joseph Stalin[/i] [b]It was a cold night. The snow was falling at a steady pace, and it was starting to blanket the Dojo and its surrounding areas. A figure stood in the snow, seemingly oblivious to it. He wore a black parka that reached down to his knees and carried a modified AK-47, as well as two steel daggers. His deep, heavily Russian voice broke the silence.[/b] Finally. [spoiler]open[/spoiler] [spoiler]*cough*IRINA*cough*[/spoiler]

[b]Cowboys from Hell // VR Simulation // 4:12 PM // Marshal JT. [/b] [i]Commerce and cars created a white noise in the background of the city's marketplace in the poorer district of Padras, as the Frontiersman stood in the dead centre of the entire place, his ten foot tall suit of armour and blackened duster keeping him as the focal point to the curiosity that many of the beggars and low-class citizens had. JT was visiting the city in the country of Cylak because he was bored of the Dojo's rolling hills and whining citizens, and wanted to return to a place where even the robotic police droids were programmed to not -blam!- with the common man. The majority wad full of junkies and wannabe gangsters, but they wouldn't deter JT. He grew up here, he knew Cylak. [/i] ((Open)) [spoiler]Imagine Cyberpunk Texas, so Deus Ex in Dallas, Texas, with a bunch of drugs and crime. [/spoiler]

[b][i][u]The Child Outcast[/u][/i][/b] As Stinger walks towards the Dojo, the thought that he doesn't belong comes to his mind. Not only is he rather young, but he has no real weapons, only his wit. Then again, he has no where better to go, no family to love him or miss him. Maybe he does belong. As he grows closer to the Dojo, he begins to see people also going to the Dojo. He doesn't see one person younger than him entering, only taller and older and far tougher looking people. The thought that maybe he should turn around comes back, but he wills himself to keep going. He still sees no one younger than him. As he reaches the courtyard full of sparring people, he looks around and is terrified. Suddenly, the thought that he may get seriously injured crosses his mind. But he doesn't give in, he wills himself forward. [spoiler]Open, don't beat me too badly[/spoiler]

[b]Tubbs is just casually chilling, but his writer makes him fight Orn[/b] [b]next thing ya know they're both about to fight in the arena[/b]

[b]The Newcomer... not like anyone even cares | Somewhere in the Dojo[/b] A figure, dressed in all white armor, slipped his way through the crowd of civilians. He was tall in comparison to everyone else, his boots creating a metal [i]clang[/i] as he walked. He wasn't sure where he was going, but had a feeling it would be somewhere decent. He didn't want to go to a bar - he never liked to drink. He heard everything through the crowd of mixed individuals. Their problems, their plans for the evening, it was quite interesting - knowing what people were doing or what they planned on doing. It made things fresh. It wasn't the same routine every day. Rain had began to fall, the orange lights in his armor and visor seemed to be a faded haze of colors due to the heavy downpour. He had been walking for at least two hours, still, not having a clue on where he was. He just so happened to have stumbled across the Dojo by mistake, it was never intentional to come here. Surprisingly, people didn't seem to mind a tall man in an all white power suit. It baffled him on how oblivious people were... or, were they just used to it? It didn't seem unlikely. For some reason it felt very plausible for a place like this. He continued on, the people still bustling by, going on with their day. He didn't seem to mind this, however. He, for some reason, found it calming. It felt natural to be walking around these streets. But he did hope for some interaction with another person, no matter who it was. [spoiler]Open. Please, feel free to reply. I've been trying to get back into RP.[/spoiler]

[u][b]Stranger things[/b][/u] The storm rages over the dojo, lighting striking in various places. The storm does not feel natural however, and a black hooded figure can be seen snatching people off the streets. Reports say the figure simply tapped the victims in the head, and they stopped moving. Eventually most of Dojoville is gone, its population gone without a sound. Flyers are put up, recruiting for people willing to help search for clues. [b]Quest active: Lost wings[/b]

[spoiler]Just going to throw this disclaimer up here: I'm not entirely sure if I'm allowed to do this so if not and Admin says burn it down *makes anti post molotov* I'm perfectly fine with burning my post to the ground.[/spoiler] [u]Coffee shop + God Limiter Finally[/u] After a while a small Coffee shop appears in front of Ama's lab. *Silver Leaf Coffee and Tea* is written across the building in silver lettering. The building itself, seemed to be fairly floral on the outside but on the inside it seemed reminiscent of a luxury penthouse with a counter across the back side. Robotic machines seem to operate as cashiers as Ama sits back on a sofa near a furnace with a blanket on and a cup of tea in her hand. Flatline is sitting out in a corner on call with something in regards to someone missing payment. As for what the payment is for is difficult to figure out from the distance. Ash seats herself at the counter talking to an invisible force, seeming to attempt to calm another soul for the afterlife perhaps? And finally there's Gerald dressed in a Santa suit seeming to sneak up on random patrons of the bar and sticking stockings on their heads while whispering "May the spirit of Christmas compel you" [spoiler]So my full roster is here doing their own things. Open to talk with any of them. Just give me a heads up on which one. Wouldn't want to give Gerald lines to Ash XD![/spoiler]

[b][u]Another New Arrival[/u][/b] [i]Just like every other day of the week, new people were arriving at the famous Dojo. Most of them were the usual wannabe badasses that were no better than any of the other wannabe badasses. However, there was one person that was somewhat noteworthy. A scarlet-haired woman with some badass looking armor and more than a few weapons, all of which were more than enough to make people take a second look. However, she didn't seem[/i] too [i]interested in causing trouble (which was lucky for more than a few people). Instead, she headed to one of the courtyards. A sparring match was going on currently, so she decided to step in. And by step in, I mean grabbing them both by their heads and flinging them into a concrete wall. A few combatants would step in here and their, but none lasted for more than a couple minutes. She was getting bored to be quite honest.[/i] [spoiler]Open. If you wanna fight, tell me if you'd rather have her at her full strength with all her shit or dumbed down a little because she's pretty goddamn OP compared to most[/spoiler]

[b]The Arbiter stood in the Dojo arena, awaiting a challenger.[/b] [spoiler]I'm bored, let's fight[/spoiler]

Why is this shitty group thread allowed to be spammed constantly on the Offtopic section?

[b][i]Fury[/i][/b] [i]"There is just enough Christ in me To make me feel almost guilty" -Van Halen, "Humans Being"[/i] [b]Washington, D.C. Alternate Earth, One Year Ago[/b] [i]Dean Garrison stood looking out the windows of his office, ten stories up, overlooking parts of the city that had been rebuilt in the wake of Venom Incorporated's invasion and occupation. He remembered when he first arrived after all of it, seeing the smoke and fire from the air, the corpses, the burnt-out hulks of armored vehicles and civilian automobiles. In the time that had passed, the city had cleaned up and rebuilt itself effectively, now back onto its normal schedule and bustling yet again with busy people and tourists. Turning away from his observation of the D.C. night lights, Garrison walked to the cabinet he kept in the office, full of mementos of his service. A photograph of himself and some friends in combat gear with some special forces guys from Delta in California, another of them in Dubai. Above those, a picture of himself and his family, his wife and daughter standing beside him happily. On the lower shelf, a bottle of Maker's Mark and four shot glasses, a treat for special occasions. As he looked back up to the picture of his family, he saw something that made the hair on his neck stand up. A reflection appeared, that of a mask, half-black, half white, the eyes glowing an eerie blue. A cold and metallic voice pierced the air, and Garrison nearly jumped out of his skin. [/i] "Where's Caine?" [i]it asked.[/i] [i]Garrison was silent.[/i] "Where's Caine?" [i]The voice said again, more harshly.[/i] "You.... you were killed...." [i]Garrison sputtered.[/i] "And yet here I am. Where's Caine?" "I... I don't know..." [i]Garrison gasped.[/i] [i]The masked and armored figure grabbed him by the back of the head and smashed his face into the cabinet, shattering glass, wood, and breaking Garrison's nose. Pulling the bloodied and dazed man back, he spoke again.[/i] "Don't lie to me, Garrison. You know where he is." "I... swear.... to Christ.... I have no idea where he is... he doesn't just give out his whereabouts to us..." "Bullshit." [i]The masked man said, a clear edge to his voice.[/i] [i]He slammed Garrison's head into the wall again, harder, leaving shards of broken glass in the man's face.[/i] "I swear... please... I have a family..." [i]The man threw Garrison to the ground, and disengaged his mask's locking mechanism, taking it off, and tossing it to the ground. Garrison rolled over onto his back, and the color drained from his face as the man grabbed him by the throat.[/i] "So did I." [i]Jackson Wolfe stared the man down, his blue eyes cold, expression hard, a near-spitting image of his father, except for his blonde hair. Dragging the man up, he slammed his head into the wall again, and again, and again, and again, dropping the corpse after he had completely caved in the side of Garrison's head, blood splattered across his armor and the wall. Reaching for Garrison's pocket, he withdrew a cellphone, and scrolled through the contacts, finding the one he was looking for. Picking up his father's mask, he waited as the phone rang, and a voice answered. [/i] "Dean why the hell are you calling me at 12:30 in the God damned morning?" "Wash you hands as you wish, Pilate, your fate's been sealed." [i]Wolfe crushed the phone afterwards in his hand, dropping it to the ground as he slid on his mask, disappearing into the darkened hallways.[/i] [spoiler]Closed. Open for comments.[/spoiler]

Ocean man

Personality "I am Terminus, knight of endings... I uphold the oaths I've sworn when I donned the Consecrated Pallis-Titanium Plate armor.. I gave up my name and even my very identity, all for the task of rebirthing the legend, for the honor of becoming the rider who heralds the end of an era..." Terminus, as he is called, is usually very serious, having been a veteran of many battles he can come across as a cynic to those he speaks with. This is intentional for he truly believes that above all else, the responsibilities a man has to his lords, his family, to country, to god and the very planet itself are absolute. To break these oaths are a grave sin in his eyes and those whom would break such oaths and responsibilities are less than nothing. As a knight, Terminus does indeed follow his own code of chivalry. To serve faithfully the lords and ladies whom he has pledged his services to, to provide protection to and aid in the reconstruction of the fiefs he has earned through combat and to mercilessly crush the enemies of those he has pledged to serve. This near fanatical belief in ones oaths and reaponsibilities do override his apathy for others circumstances at times, but he is not without pity. On many an occasion he is known to be benevolent individual, sometimes offering protection to those whom need it and only asking for food, drink and a warm place to sleep at night. Appearance "My appearance... To many, I am a faceless creature clad in full body faded grey interlocking plated armor made of five centimeter thick consecrated Pallis-Titanium, with a full helm as well and countless symbols of the aguila and other holy etchings, runes and wards.. They are not wrong.. For Terminus is just the armor.. No one needs to know the man behind the armor. Nor do I want anyone to know of the man behind the armor.. That knowledge will make the task of resurrecting the legend all the more difficult to achieve.." Powers "Powers..? Hah! I do not need such trivial magicks! Such things breed reliance! Reliance begets laziness! Laziness invites stagnation and death! All I need is my armor, my skills, my faith and my Brothers and Sisters in arms!" Terminus seemingly does not have any special powers as stated above. Rather, he scorns such abilities as signs of laziness. However, whether it's because he was born with such or it was a result of daily rigorous exercise that he undergoes in order to remain at peak physical form is debateable, he does have some form of augmented physical capabilities that allow him to fight longer, strike harder and generally survive the weight of his Consecrated Pallis-Titanium full body plate armor. His armor however has been consecrated and laced with many runic enchantments and protective wards, so it offers some protection against undead and those with psychic abilities in addition to his strong willpower and near fanatical beliefs. In addition, his armor and chain mail is capable of rendering all forms of supernatural phenomena like magic based attacks and kinesis null on contact with the armor. His weapon of choice, a naginata with a fire caster located under the base of the blade and a small fusion reactor located inside the butt of the weapon with the purpose of powering and providing fuel for the weapon's mounted fire caster and the blade of the naginata itself, has the same supernatural phenomena nullifying capabilities as the armor. Only difference is that the blade of the naginata has a fifty percent chance to inflict the silence ailment on whomever it strikes for one turn with each subsequent blow giving it a fourty percent chance for the silence ailment to stack for another turn. Abilities "People think that underneath the armor lies nothing, a cold spectre, a forboding herald of the end... -chuckling- Oh how wrong they are.. Strip away the armor, the rumors, my reputation, my skills, my comrades in arms and what you have left is just a regular mortal human... Like everyone else.. I am naught but a human, nothing more.. Nothing less.." He has no special abilities of his own, everything he has is the result of his hard work, his blood sweat and tears. Items currently in his possession Fire gem imbued Greatsword of Farron with curved Parrying Dagger. Naginata of the Endings Herald. Armor of the Endings Herald. Moonlight Greatsword. Havel's Shield Dragonslayer's Greataxe. Skills "My skills.. The culmination of who I am, who I was and all that I will be.. I have devoted my life to the path of the Knight.. From martial skills that I learned as a paige like blacksmithing, armor and weapon maintenance, financing, bartering, falconry, tracking, hunting, Archery, foraging, cooking and ettiquete. To the skills of warfare I learned through war and my squirehood like strategy, politics, speechcraft, terrain advantages and disadvantages, caring for my steed, horseback riding and even my mastery in the usage of the Consecrated Pallis-Titanium Naginata I received as a coming of age from my father before the gates of Valhalla opened and the Valkyries guided his eternal soul to the halls of valor.. All of these skills and the knowledge imparted to me by many teachers have shaped and groomed me for the role I take today.." Journeyman level Blacksmithing Master level Armor and Weapon Maintenance Journeyman level Financing Expert level Bartering Journeyman level Falconry Journeyman level Tracking Expert level Foraging Novice level Archery Novice level Hunting Apprentice level Cooking Master level Ettiquete Apprentice level Strategy Expert level Politics Expert level Speechcraft Apprentice level Topographical Battle Strategy Master level Steed Maintenance Journeyman level Horseback Riding Master level Two handed Weapon Combat Weaknesses "Weaknesses... It is such a hard thing to admit one's own faults.. Even more so to make an honest effort to fix your weaknesses.. Even in the role I must fill.. I worry that my own imperfections will cause me to fall short of the expectations and the legend I am tasked with rebirthing.. This armor is not without its flaws, it is cumbersome and heavy.. So fast moving targets and those at range are a hassle to take down.. Another thing I have to worry about is the environment during times of bad seasons and other such maladies.. Heat created through a natural source can still boil me alive, and electricity through a natural source can still electrocute me.. Another vulnerability is the threat of arrows or small blades piercing through the slits of my visor and armor.. Beyond that.. I am only human.."

[b][u]THE CONCLUSION[/u][/b] "LADIES! GENTLEMEN! BOY'S! GIRLS! AND THOSE WHO TRY TO MAKE THINGS MORE COMPLICATED THEN IT NEEDS TO BE! THE TOURNEY! IS FINISHED! YOUR GRAND CHAMPION, HAS KEPT HIS TITLE! ZANE REMAINS THE VICTOR!" The audience applauded at the announcement of their champion. Trumpets played, drums were on the roll, the deity was already counting the money he was making from the tourney! It was a time of excitement. Alright! Before we conclude, we have to give out the awards! SO! Here are your awards! Bitches! GRAND CHAMPION: "Zane has won the tourney! Again! For his victory...He's got something custom made. Made by Tina, in a combined effort with that new blacksmith everyone forgets about, you got yourself... A new Buster sword." A massive, straight edged blade rises from the ground. It's easily the size of a person, and it gleams a dark grey in the lights of the stadium. On the middle of the blade, there seems to be a small precise cylinder carved into the blade, which rises to the top to be a sharpened opening on the already sharp edged blade. The hilt is huge, but seems to meld comfortably in ZANES hand. A white dragon moves up the blades design, also glimmering and complimenting the aesthetic. On the handle, here was a small button. "Alright! GRAND CHAMPION! Here's your new sword! Oh, ya, it can also shoot super precise lasers! Cool, right? The colour can be whatever the hell you want it to be. I always thought you were indecisive so it's set to all of em right now. Congratulations! Her name is Ausführung. You can put her up on your wall or whatever. Since you are "retired." Hehe." Ranged Champion: "JT made the cut on this one! So we have another gun he can put in his pants!" The champions Rifle: This black and gold bolt action rifle fires powerful shots, able to take heads off with ease. It has a laser sight that is projected with mirror technology, allowing the laser to act as a pinpoint and also a sight for the weapon. It's custom chamber allows for any type of bullet to be loaded. Ranging from a 9mm, to a .50cal. Have fun. SOLDIER CHAMPION: "JJ took this one! And almost made it to be the champ! Now, his reward!" The champions blade: this silver and black hilt glows with power, and can form it's blade from one of three elements. The flame blade can melt though armor, the ice blade can pierce flesh easily, and the earth blade can crush armor with ease. Best Fatality: "Okay. Let's be real. There's no competition. Bal took this one easy! HE BEAT HIS OPPONENT TO DEATH WITH HIS SEVERED ARM!!!" Amulet of Blood Gulch: This amulet allows you to have your attack for one turn cause significant more bleeding to your opponent for a single turn. Allowing for much more damage. No matter their armour. (Can only be used once in a fight(it's a critical hit basically)). Best one liner: "Pirate ships? Guns? Magic? A tornado? Something good had to come out of that! That's why Mortar is taking this one!" Amulet of Articulation: Merchants will recognize the amulet and give you a discount no matter where you are. Along with this, you are significantly more charismatic. Even if you don't try to be(mainly applies to anyone who allows this amulet to work in their posts). Best fight: "This one goes to two people! They will both get the same of the award! The best fight of the tourney was... Orn VS Celon! Now for their award(you both get this one)." Anti-Grav boots: these boots will allow you to run across any surface you so please! Perfect for climbing and/or finding a unique way to murder and maim your opponent!(Lasts five turns. But they can be turned off. Charge takes ten turns for the full five turns. Just do that math ya danks.) Best rule follower: "Alright. I know this one sounds lame. But it made my job easier! And that's what matters! The best goody two shoes of this tournament was... NATHANIAL!" Ring of Arrest: This ring allows you to paralyze any foe for a single one of their replies. This makes them completely immune to any attack, but it also means they cannot do anything to you due to paralysis. Perfect for get aways. "And that concludes our annual Tournament! Thanks to everyone who participated! Sleep well, fight hard, and have a good night!" [spoiler]And the next one will be better. I swear. [/spoiler]

It was getting dark. Cannon had just left the training grounds for the night and was heading home to his ship. The snow storm had mostly died down, a few remaining snowflakes drifting lazily in the lamp lights. The Mandalorian shouldered his rifle as he walked, glancing wearily towards the shadows. He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. He arrived at his ship, which had been reparked outside the dojo, so far all seemed alright. He reached up to open the ramp when suddenly he heard it, the sound of footsteps somewhere in the shadows. Stopping, he turned around drawing his rifle. "Whose there?" No answer, he could swear the shadows moved. Switching to night vision, he raised his rifle. Suddenly, a massive blast of energy slammed into his chest. With a cry, he fell to his knees as a number of being clad in grey and blue Mandalorian armor emerged from the shadows, their weapons trained on him. "We finally found you, dar'manda!" Chuckles their leader as they open fire. [spoiler]Open. Save Cannon or don't. If you don't, he dies and will not return.[/spoiler]