Two rows of pillars surrounded on both sides by row after row, column after column of pews that lead up to a large, hanging pedestal. Hovering in the air is the large stone structure, suspended by magic overlooking the pews and gates that lead into the tower. At the center of the middle-aisle cut between the pews is a round rune on the floor with the diameter of a full-grown man's height. Mystical orbs of light hang several feet over the pews providing them with ample light. Lining the walls from the doorway to the furthest end are tall thin iron candleholders that stand 10 feet tall. Hovering just over the ornate tips are more light-orbs. Down the center aisle sit several mages in the pews studying books or praying. Behind the pedestal is a wall, standing before it is a gigantic statue of an archangel with its mythril sword brandished, preparing to strike. The statue had to be 40 feet tall, and the cathedral's room was about 50 feet tall plus tiered gothic-arches in the ceiling.

With a wave of the hand, a Mage separates the pews into a wider aisle, all the benches sliding off to the walls of the massive room. Upon the pillars that line the center aisle are lanterns hanging upon ornate iron hooks that jut out a foot from the pillars themselves. It is here that the two would compete under the eye of the Mage Tower. An unnatural light forces its way through the ceiling, illuminating the floor's center in a wonderous circle. Most of the light in the room comes from this source; it is raining outside, and the patter of water droplets can be faintly heard against the stained glass.

Ting-ting-tick-tang-tlang-ting-tang-tang-tang-ting-ting...

Alkioth could hear the rainwater perfectly where he was standing. Each droplet was like a shooting star, exploding upon hitting the purple-stained glass. He let himself stare off into space, his mind empty.

Ting-ting-ting-tang-ting-ting-tick-tick-tang-tick-tang-ting-ting-ting...

His eyes came into focus upon the glass window once more: it was purple, and within it was a blue circle. Inscribed into the circle was indecipherable writing. It looked gorgeous, and Alkioth assumed the words must have been beautiful too. He smiled, and looked down to the floor for a moment.

Scree-urmf-tch!

Alkioth's head shot up in time to see a single mage move all the pews away from the aisle with a mere wave of his hands. This must be where we're dueling, Alkioth thought. He took a deep breath, and gently dropped to one knee, his hand upon the hilt of his broadsword, pushing down so as to not damage the marble floor.

Dear Lord, I pray you keep my enemy in safe hands as you do me. Pray-tell our swords may clash, but our souls not. Pray-tell we be safe and in your holy hands, O' Lord. May the duel reveal the more honorable man, and keep each man honorable in his own right.

But may I thank you, O' Lord. For you have taught me the way, and I follow it faithfully. You are my heart, my breath, my beat, O' Lord. You are my Lord, and may I follow you for the entirety of your almighty plan. Thank you, O' Lord. Amen.

Alkioth opened his eyes and looked up. He saw floating orbs share their light with the cathedral. He saw the mage walking somewhere. He saw the hanging pedestal. He let his eyes wander around the room, taking it in. It was quite beautiful.

Dear Lord, please do not let me defile this place -- unless it be your will, and your will alone.

The young ranger steps into the great hall of the infamous Mage Tower, the lights on the ceiling casting shadows upon his cloak shrouded face. The boy's hooded cloak stays on as he looks slightly up, glancing over the magnificent structures that could only have been created through magic, marvelling in their wonder. He quickly, however, returns to looking forward, knowing that if he looked up too long, he not only would lose his primary focus, but that his cloak might fall down, revealing his identity. Fighting a child might be something a noble knight would not do; Tonio wanted his opponent to be fighting his best. The boy's hands grip the rapier at his side as he faces his opponent, preferring to allow the knight to make the first move.

Tonio falls slowly into a stance, being careful to get every movement correct. The smallest flaw in a stance could mean life or death in a fight, something that was very important. His right leg slides backwards, perpendicular to his left leg, which faces forward. The stance falls lower, dropping the man's apparent height a few feet as he settles, his cloak spreading slightly to reveal the green tunic beneath. A swift motion of his hand draws free the rapier from its sheath, the sound of steel on steel echoing throughout the room as the blade is drawn back behind his center of gravity, the tip of the blade pointing forward towards his oppponent.

His opponent is obviously not ready however, seeming to pray to whatever gods the people of Hypeltheon might worship. Tonio himself was not from Hypeltheon, though he was sure that gods must exist here. Back in the realm he was originally from, his strength almost equalled that of the gods; something the ranger was hoping to regain as he journeyed through this realm. His swords had been lost upon his arrival, but eventually they might be found and added to his strength. Each day that passed, his body grew more and more used to this realm, the energy of the spirits more willing to help him. He had to become one with the land and stay for quite a while before even the weakest techniques had been available to him. The rangers had helped him with that, quite impressed with the progress the boy had made.

The soft sounds of raindrops on the stained glass steadily grew, a light rain turning into a heavier downpour. It seemed the gods themselves must have known the seriousness of the fight, sending a suiting background for such a match. Tonio drowns out the sound of the raindrops from his mind, more intent on defeating his opponent as swiftly as possible. This could be done with the Shukuchi, but to reveal his trump card so soon was a horrid act of tactics. Instead, the boy waited, allowing his opponent to make the first move in order for Tonio to learn the enemy's tactics.

Alkioth had just finished his last few words to God for the time being as a cloaked man entered the tower. He got but a glance at the man, for he looked upward only slightly; apparently he was being careful as not to reveal his identity.

Interesting. What motives does this man possess? Is he a man? Why would one wish to not show himself?

His opponent stops about ten cubits from him, and slowly drops into a low stance. He falls lower, and lower. His legs will have to be strong to keep that, Alkioth thinks. That or he doesn't wear much armor. But his mind goes clear and serious as his opponent unsheathes his rapier slowly. An eerie sound echoes slightly in the tower.

For a moment, Alkioth looks upward -- but not at the tower. He looks up, wondering if God is watching him. There was no doubt in his mind his opponent would be a challenge. After all, they weren't in the second round for nothing.

He steps forward, slowly closing the gap between his opponent and himself. Alkioth is wielding his shield with his left arm, covering the bulk of his left midsection. With a quiet grunt he unsheathes his broadsword. His forearms bulge and his biceps tighten and flex as he wields it up and outward, slowly enclosing upon his opponent.

Alkioth's eyes are darting all around his opponent, checking everything about his opponent. His cloak and how it covers his face, save for what Alkioth can see via the shining orbs -- which is next to nothing. Alkioth can make out only facial features, but nothing too useful to an overall image. He cannot see the man's skin tone, age, eye color -- nothing. This was a change for Alkioth, who had been used to battling men eye-to-eye. It would appear this duel would be different.

Slowly, the blade of Alkioth's broadsword drops. The tip of the blade is a few feet away from his opponent. Carpe diem, discupli.

Alkioth lunges forward, bringing his elbow back a bit before thrusting the blade outward -- hoping to pierce, or at least cut, into his opponent's belly.

Tonio's eyes keep a careful eye on his opponent, noting the man's slight moving as he prepares to lunge forward. Even as the broadsword is thrust forward, the ranger breaks stance, stepping forward with his back leg to meet the knight's thrust. The rapier swings downwards in an arc, crashing against the side of the deadly broadsword. The ranger makes a quick burst of strength, knowing that a mistake at this point might lose the duel, pushing the blade out of the way just enough to cut against his cloak. As the blade passes past him, his opponent would inevitably fall forward, the lack of a definitive hit causing the strike to carry him forward.

Tonio Asura takes advantage of this moment, a small smile on his face as he takes another step forward towards his opponent, bringing his free hand along with him. The free hand suddenly closes into a fist as it draws near his opponent's face. The armor his opponent was wearing would make any other attack futile with his off-hand, creating more harm to himself then his opponent. The fist would most likely smash into his opponent's face, though the man might be able to dodge the attack. After all, the ranger had managed to read his opponent's movements before they were made.

Whether the hit struck or not however, the cloaked man would slide past. Immediately after sliding past, he settles his front foot, pivoting on it in order to swing his back leg around to face his opponent's back. His cloak seems to float slightly as it travels with him, settling only as he draws back his front leg to meet his back, standing up straight. His cloak again encompasses his entire body in shadow, keeping the obviously taller knight fom being able to read his motions at all. The rapier is pulled up, pointing upwards as he prepares himself to react to another attack.

The knight obviously was rather strong, based on the power that had been placed with the thrust. His speed was something the Ranger had not expected however. That bulky armor would give most people a noticibly smaller speed, yet this man was able to move with it on swiftly. Tonio would have to be more careful in his reactions, being sure to give himself more time to react. If he let his guard down, the match would surely be a loss on his part, something he could not let himself deal with.

Alkioth's opponent was faster than Alkioth had expected. He'd parried Alkioth's attack quickly, and was already coming around Alkioth. Now everything was slow. Alkioth's weight was forward from his thrust, and he stumbled a few feet -- the weight of his broadsword coupled with the parry from the rapier had caused it to drop about a foot.

He is fast, he thinks for a second.

His opponent has little or no armor, and wields a rapier. Thus he is light, fast. However, he lacks the strength of a blow that a broadsword can provide. Further, his cloak may turn out to be a hindrance upon him -- all the swaying may impede his footwork, especially if it is cut enough to entangle his feet.

Suddenly Alkioth realizes he is exposed, and spins around counterclockwise. This is fortunate, as his opponent has swung his fist at Alkioth. Alkioth's shield is raised, hoping to block the sly attack.

Alkioth's feet, meanwhile, are quickly moving about beneath him. His muscles are tightening and relaxing quickly as he tries to regain balance. If his block is successfull, it will provide just enough time to find his footing.

The ranger lets out a string of curses in an ancient language as his fist hits the round shield, feeling his knuckles go numb as pain shocks through them. He had been trying to avoid hitting steel; he hadn't expected his opponent's shield to rise up so fast. Even with his hand injured, he travels past his opponent, his cursing drawing to a sudden stop. He might have given away something that could keep the opponent from giving his full force, as his voice might have been readable. Tonio curses himself for this silently, shaking his hand a bit to regain the feeling in it. His good hand then returns to grasping the rapier, prepared to deal with any attack his opponent might strike out with.

The two stand-off for a few moments, leaving Tonio with no choice but to engage. He would have rather avoided his opponent, allowing him the first move after the stand-off. However, his opponent was faster then expected, as well as much more clever. The ranger would have to use every skill at his disposal to win, whether it be brute force or not. He suddenly breaks into a dash at his opponent, drawing the blade over his head before getting within the broadsword's deadly range. As soon as he reaches that range, he leaps to the side, partially expecting an attack to come in order to strike him down in a single blow. If that reaction came, the next part of his attack would catch his opponent off guard, allowing the boy to get the first true attack in the battle.

His sword is suddenly engulfed in a frozen sheath, ice surrounding the blade. Tonio had channelled a bit of his own energy combined with the energies of the world into his sword, using the elements in an attempt to strike down his opponent. Ice was his speciality; it was the form the elements took now in order to aide the ranger in his battle. The blade swings downwards towards the armor on the right shoulder, an icy blade increasing the sharpness of the blade as it travels. If the blade hit, the ice would seep into the armor, cutting it deeper then the blade alone. This would most likely shatter the armor over the shoulders, allowing the ranger access to attack the flesh beneath it.

A loud, brutish KWONG! rings out as his opponent's fist slams into his shield. No doubt the centrifugal force would have at least fractured some bones in his opponent's hand. Alkioth would have preferred a hard break, so as to limit his opponent's actions; but there was always his opponent's sword hand he had to worry about.

As Alkioth regains his balance he frowns. Not in anger, but in contemplation. His opponent had cried out in pain, but not in Alkioth's own language. What language was that? I've never heard it before, he thinks quickly. His opponent's voice was different, as well. It was higher-pitched than Alkioth's. A flash of intuition and deduction flashed through his mind.

Alkioth adjusted his stance once more, presently standing with his knees bent. His weight was on the balls of his feet for the little quickness he was allowed with his armor. It was a struggle of skill and concentration to remain strong yet relaxed. If he let his muscles tighten, he would become slow and probably hurt himself -- but if he remained too relaxed, he wouldn't wield his weapon true. It was a dangerous balancing act -- one that could cause him his life.

Suddenly Alkioth is charged. His opponent sped toward him with surprising speed, rapier raised above his head. Alkioth's face remained stern, readying himself to attack at the boy's exposed midsection. But just as Alkioth was about to strike, his opponent leaped to the side. In response, Alkioth follows suit by turning to face his opponent, leaping to the side about a foot in order to stay centered.

Alkioth frowns once more, seeing his opponent's sword change. Alkioth heard cracking, like that of ice melting. But instead, Alkioth noted that ice was actually forming. Then came his opponent's attack -- a hard slash at Alkioth's right shoulder.

Using all of his might and bravery, Alkioth spins. As he comes around to meet his opponent's attack, he brings his shield upward at his opponent's frozen sword. But he used his momentum to his advantage, also raising his broadsword in a hard slash at his opponent's elbow. He knew not what this icy blade could do, but he knew that even if his shield were destroyed his opponent would most likely lose his arm. Unless, however, his opponent miraculously could jerk his arm back -- thereby letting Alkioth merely parry the attack, instead of severing the arm.

Tonio Asura grimaces, the pain in his off-hand still echoing through his body, distracting him from placing his full force behind his strike. However, the force of the falling blade is still enough to crack the powerful shield of his opponent, ice seeming into the fresh cracks. The ice spreads within the cracks of the shield, further expanding the cracks until the shield shatters into two pieces. However, the ranger cannot finish up his attack to force the blade into his opponent's arm, as the massive broadsword is swung in an attempt to sever off his own arm. This would be fatal to the boy, who would not be able to fight at all with his sword.

This surely couldn't happen to him this early in the fight; he simply wouldn't allow it. A brief burst of energy is sent into his legs as he activates a minor level of the Shukuchi, giving him just enough speed to avoid the attack. With that extra speed, he leaps backwards, away from the slash that would have cut through his arm. Landing several feet back away from his opponent, the Shukuchi's power fades from his system, a short gust blowing back his cloak for a few brief moments to reveal his face. However, the boy quickly pulls back down his cloak, not allowing himself to be seen more then a brief second, intent on making sure his opponent would continue to fight his best.

Tonio draws back his rapier once more, his right leg falling back into a stance derived from Tae Kwon Do. Even as the boy had explored the various realms of time and space, he had picked up many different styles. Hopefully, his opponent wouldn't be expecting the stance and thus wouldn't be able to react to the exotic stance. His sword is drawn back slightly behind his center of balance, allowing him room to react or attack, making the stance quite versatile. A smile draws upon his face, knowing that the fight would now be made slightly easier. With the shield out of the way, the only thing left to do was find holes in the armor that would be his trouble. If those holes could not be found, he could break them himself. It would only be a matter of time.

Alkioth feels his opponent's sword crash into his shield. Part of it shatters, sending flakes of metal and wood into the air. If Alkioth's cloak had been covering his head, his face would have been protected from the splinters -- but it wasn't. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the right as they cut into his flesh. He was still wincing as his shield was busted in two from the ice running along the cracks.

His broadsword hit the ground, jerking Alkioth's body in a circle. He regained his footing and balance facing his opponent, who was now a good distance away. Strange stance, he thought for a second.

Alkioth had to figure out where he stood in this match, and quickly. He let his eyes dart down to his shield quickly -- about half of it was left intact. The leather straps were still tight, but his fist was exposed. He would have to keep that in mind.

Returning his gaze to his opponent, he eyes him. It was a style he'd never seen before. He cocked his head, and changed his own stance. Instead of leading with his shield, he turns -- and leads with his broadsword.

"Continuez, s'il vous plaît," he says, the left side of his face bleeding as he jumps onto a pew, still facing his opponent.

Tonio Asura mutters to himself, trying to understand what his opponent is saying. Among the languages he knew, that wasn't one of them. It did sound familiar to some of the tongues from the realm he was originally from, though it was at the same time unintelligent murmurs to him. Either way, the intent of his opponent's actions was clear. Both sides were at a stand-off for the moment, neither side daring to move, in hope that they would get the chance to react rather then be forced to make the first offensive. The ranger realizes this, backing up away from his opponent with careful steps, making sure to get several of the pews between him and his opponent. The pews would serve as a minor defense, protecting his lower body from attacks. This would allow him to focus on the deadly broadsword, which would cause him to take much more damage.

The boy's eyes glance over the opponent, carefully studying the damage done. The shield had broken into two seperate pieces, meaning a quick second strike would destroy it permanently. However, this had the added benefit of getting shards of metal in his opponent's face. These shards had blinded his opponent for the brief moments that his cloak was down; more than likely it would create a minor blind spot that he could benefit from. He holds his rapier pointed forward, trying to figure out where a blind spot would be; at the same time thinking of possible methods of attack. His Shukuchi might have been hidden by the temporary blindness, though it would be risky to use it again so soon. He certainly couldn't hide with a ranger skill just yet, as his opponent's sight had returned.

In the end, it returned to a stand off, neither side daring to move forward. It was a test of wills, each fighter testing their endurance as they prepare to strike. The boy pulled his sword back further, preparing to thrust it forward if he was forced to make the first move. However, at the same time he would be able to deflect an attack if needed. Hopefully this fight could continue like this, his cloak not needed to be sacrificed; that would reveal his identity, possibly causing the fight to become less heated then he wanted.

Alkioth's opponent took the opportunity to retreat a few pews back. Alkioth did not want this, and lept from one pew to the other -- managing a precarious balance on the back of each pew. He stopped a pew away from his opponent. His shield was guarding his left side and his stomach, his broadsword wielded slightly upward -- directly, if not a little to the left, in front of him.

He could feel the warm blood trickling down his face. It fueled his passion for victory. Fate had already made the choice of who was victor. God knew, but neither of these opponents knew. At least Alkioth didn't. All he needed to know was that God was looking down upon them, and that the victor would be known shortly. Alkioth had faith in that.

Alkioth cocks his head for a moment. "Why wait, mon ami? Continuez!" he says, jabbing his broadsword at his opponent's neck quickly -- if not idly, trying to ellicit an attack.

The ranger notices his opponent's movement, leaping forward in order to draw closer to him. At the moment he is busy trying to make out a bit of what he is saying, trying to gain some insight into his opponent. The first language he uses seems to be the same English in his world, while the latter is a language seemed to be Latin based, even if he did not know it. Either way, those thoughts are pushed out of the way as the broadsword jabs forward towards his neck, more taunting then a full attack. Either way, Tonio would have to react to it rather then just dodge, as it was an opportunity nonetheless.

The boy drops his stance down a bit, hopefully allowing the blade to pass over his head cleanly. However, a slight underestimation of how low the stance can be dropped at this point is made, the blade cutting through the top of the green cloak he wears. The force of the blow sends the cloak backwards off his head to reveal his face, a few brown hairs falling to the ground as the broadsword passes through. The ranger gives his opponent no chance to react to this however, instead swinging his rapier out in an arc as his stance breaks. The sword swings outwards towards the knee joint of the man's armor, the ranger knowing that it would be potentially the weakest point in the man's defenses.

Alkioth's idle shot had been a tactical mistake. His blade caught only his opponent's cloak, which came off -- revealing his young face. Alkioth's eyes widened a bit, unsure if this was a young male or perhaps worse -- a female.

Merde! De Dieu... What have I done? he thinks for a moment.

He is unprepared for what happens next. His opponent slashes at his left knee, which is covered only by his pants. If he'd had time to think, gather energy, or even if he had less armor he could have easily avoided this. But none of those luxuries were his.

Alkioth's intention was to raise his leg and kick the blade away. It was bold, but ultimately futile. Just as he raised his leg, the blade connected with his armored boot. It cut through the armor, and cut into his skin and muscle. Just before reaching bone, however, the blade stops. Alkioth falls to the left, and attempts to harm his opponent by letting his blade fall toward his face -- his intention is to cut his opponent's face, just as Alkioth's own had been cut.

Alkioth falls inbetween two pews and struggles backward with his right foot, pushing along the floor. He must get up before his opponent gets to him.

Merde! Merde! Merde! S'il vous plaît, mon Dieu. S'il vous plaît.

The ranger makes a quick movement on his foe's disadvantage. He was surprised at the braveness of the kick towards the sword, though it was futile as the force of his strike sent his rapier's blade to seek out the flesh of his foot. His strike is true, his blade digging through the armor and towards the bone, being stopped only as his opponent falls back over the pew. However, as the boy smiles at the first true strike of the duel, his opponent counterattacks as he falls, his blade seeking out to cut his opponent as he fell. Tonio tries to fall back in time as he notices the falling blade, but far too slow for his tastes. It is too slow to fully avoid the strike as well, as the blade cuts vertically down his left cheek, spilling red blood onto the floor, staining the citadel's clean marble floors with the tainted color of fresh blood.

Tonio's hand shoots up to his face as he stumbles back slightly, cursing himself lightly under his breath as he realizes his opponent had struck him. Even as his hand shoots upwards, his sword drops to the ground with a thud, leaving him wide open had his opponent not been fallen between the pews. He feels the slightly sticky red liquid spill upon his hand, dripping down his palm to splash against the ground. His hand pulls away, allowing his eyes to glance across the blood, even as he mouths an ancient curse in a foreign language for his opponent. He had let himself get injured, something that he hadn't expected from his fight, expecting the Knight to be far slower then he. That had obviously been wrong. The fight would take the max of his abilities if he was too win at this rate.

He quickly gets to work while his opponent had fallen behind the pews, not wanting to allow the wound to bleed freely. He digs through the small pack at his side, something he had prepared a bit before the match if he needed it. A small roll of bandage is pulled free from his pack, as well as some adhesives. In a few quick seconds, the boy's dexterous hands apply the bandage, keeping the bleeding of the small wound at bay. However small the wound was though, it was a trademark that the ranger wasn't invincible, despite the power of his Shukuchi. As his hand grips the hilt of his rapier, pulling it back up from the ground, he lets the bandage roll fall to the ground, not bothering yet to put it away. He would make his opponent pay for that wound; the fight would end in the ranger's victory no matter what the cost.

Alkioth had hit the ground, his eyes wide in momentary terror. He was in intense pain, and his wound was bleeding profusely. With his right boot, he pushed himself back away from his opponent. He didn't know if his strike had been true, and only hoped it was.

At any time his opponent could jump over a pew and cut him down. But the attack never came. Alkioth was surprised, and lay there for a moment. He was tired, out of breath, and in immense pain. He hadn't felt this sort of pain in years -- but of course, it had been years since anyone had inflicted such a wound upon him.

He looked up through the Mage Tower. It had the effect, at the very top of the ceiling, to be an eye. Alkioth took it as a sign -- the eye of God.

Alkioth's face flushed in concentration. In fact, in anger. Within his heart burned a fiery passion, such that it extended to his broadsword. He let his shield go, flicking it onto the ground so as to have his left arm completely free; and it was with his left hand that he grasped the back of a pew and stood on his good leg, his knuckles white from his tight grip.

He looked over to his opponent, who had bandaged his face. Alkioth's eyes themselves seemed to burn as he stared.

Time to end this.

Tonio's eyes were filled with a burning light, angry at his opponent for managing to wound him, however slight; at the same time mad at himself for managing to get hit. It was this anger that manifested deep within him, threatening to cause him to overstep his physical limits, which would no doubt be his downfall. His feet tap against the smooth floor of the Mage Tower as he prepares himself for a technique that would surely end in his opponent's death, if not forcing him completely on the defense. It was this technique, the Shukuchi, which he felt would win him the match. However, such a technique would only be his downfall as angry as he currently was.

The boy suddenly bursts forward, his speed increasing magnificently as he draws near the pews where the man rests. This was the true power of the speed, his body becoming near a blur as he moves, barely trackable to the eye of the average viewer. To a fighter, he moved as though extremely fast, beyond what human warriors could normally achieve. This was the speed he hoped would end the fight against his opponent, through, through any means possible. This speed would most likely be his downfall, however. He wouldn't know this as he drew closer to his opponent, his boot clad feet making loud noises as he draws nearer to his opponent. The pews drew ever closer, becoming the only obstable between him and his opponent.

As he draws near his opponent at his incredibly high speed, he leaps into the air, the propulsion due to his acceleration sending him high into the air above his opponent. At this point of the fight, he gave no thought to the consequences of his actions, his mind only focused on defeating his opponent. This would be his downfall, as the loss of calm was the loss of a fight. The ranger sends his rapier plummeting down vertically as he falls from the extreme height, seeming to fall from his opponent's so called "Eye of God." His sword soars downwards towards his opponent's head. If the blade hit, its velocity would surely destroy his opponent, even through some of the thickest of human armors. He would win this fight at all costs, proving once and for all that he was the best warrior in the land.

His opponent's eyes were full of fury as well. It seemed that this duel would come down to a battle of wills -- who wanted it more. Alkioth was at a severe disadvantage: he was nearly crippled and was losing blood fast. His opponent wouldn't have to worry if he'd just stay away -- for surely Alkioth would pass out.

Alkioth feels Death clawing at him. Around his vision, a darkness appears. He feels as if his body is becoming detatched. His sword drops from his hand, and he begins to feel lightheaded. He hears voices -- murmurs, whispers. They seem hauntingly familiar to him -- a call from beyond the grave, perhaps?

No, Alkioth, like this... he hears among the whispers.

His face twitches. It was the voice of his long-dead uncle.

Never forget technique. Without it, you have nothing.

His opponent was in the air, coming down at him -- his rapier with deadly intentions. Alkioth blinked once more, hearing his uncle's voice a third time -- Maintenant! -- as the Eye of God had been hidden by his opponent's body.

Alkioth lifts his hands, performing his Hand of God. This would not only catch his opponent's blade, but would also disarm him -- throwing the blade across the floor. Normally, his opponent would have been thrown down as well, but it would not be the case this time. Even if he completed the Hand of God manuever taught to him by his uncle, his opponent would crash into him.

Alkioth

Tactics: 9 (Not bad at all.)

Regulation: 10 (Hand of God, perfectly acceptable)

Quailty: 10 (There was more than one occasion where you had one, if not, no attacks in your post. Excellent.)

Fairness: 9 (Didn't see any forced hits, congrats.)

Technicaility: 9 (Another commendable job.)

Overall: 9.4 (Awesome Job! So close to 2 levels if you win!)


Asura

Tactics: 8 (Tae Kwon Do doesn't Exist in Hypeltheon - DONT use it again. There are no adhesive items in Hypeltheon either - remember, European Fantasy, Middle Ages. Your Rapier would have broken, not the Buckler.)

Regulation: 10 (Charge Slash, Shikuchi - perfectly acceptable.)

Quailty: 7.5 (3 spelling / grammatical errors. You overestimated the power of a Rapier several times, among other problems.)

Fairness: 9 (You used the Shikuchi twice. - at the end - at the beginning)

Technicaility: 8 (You used the Shikuchi to invert momentum and evade that upward arcing slash. Not too realistic. But most everything else was fine.)

Overall: 8.5


Alkioth + 1 Lvl.