Fight 1
---------

Cheers roared out from the crowd as the first match of the tournament began, people, elves and all creatures alike were in the stands, on their feet clapping and hooting and bellowing and yelling. The noise was deafening but it did not seem to effect The Black Knight of Mousillon, his gallant steed moving at a slow gait, the iron barred doors shearing upwards, the scraping noise causing slight discomfort to the warhorse, but they went forth none-the-less, the sand of the arena being imprinted by their passing. The Black Knight drew his morning star and raised it to the air, the sunlight glinting off the shiny spikes, and the crowd somehow mustered an even louder cheer, though there was the occasional boo, they were mostly just excited to get this thing started...

From the other side of the pit, the gates screeched open, the iron bars clanking into place as a rather large and heavily armour human(?) took 5 heavy steps towards his opponent. The armour was somewhat silent, but his strength was easily visible from just having to wear such encumbering but protective gear. A light grin was on his face as Malystryx gazed at the crowd and then towards his opponent, drawing his gruesomely designed blade he hollered his challenge. The stands shook with approval, and the bretonnian knight lowered his visor.

As if a signal was set off the two charged, obviously the Knight moving faster than the chaos lord, but the met on even ground, Malystryx somehow managing to get the upper hand. Clashing his sword to his shield, the champion of Slaanesh jumped, quite a feat with such encumberance, and slashed out viciously with his sword in an attempt to knock the bretonnian knight from his horse. His speed was nearly incapable of being followed, but somehow the black knight of mousillon brought his shield to bear and deflected each blow, preparing to return his own. Only too late did Malystryx realise his mistake as he was suspended in the air, his sword glancing off the expert shield, and his eyes barely followed the morning star as it crashed into his chest.

Oddly enough, magical energy coursed through his entire being, although there was only a slight sharp pain in his chest, something being broken, he was more concerned about the magic. It wracked his body for a moment, using his arm as a conductor to lash through and to his sword, though he held it with a firm grip, it merely exploded in his hand, causing his to curse in pain as he fell out of the air, landing on the now bloodied sand with a loud thud. There was a hush over the crowd as this display of skill from the knight, and they thought the end was near. Rearing back, the warhorse prepared to crush the head of the chaos lord, and it kicked straight down.

This was his moment, Malystryx forgot about his mistake and brought his fist up in a forward thrust at the back leg of the horse, rolling forward to avoid the kicking in front. The heavily gauntled connected with bone crushing force and the leg snapped simply, causing the knight's mount to collapse on it's own head, and with his armoured body falling onto it aswell and into a roll, it was killed. Getting to his feet, the Black Knight of Mousillon growled with anger, charging at his weaponless opponent, rearing back with his morning star to bring it down with all the force he could muster at Malystryx. This reckless attack was easily blocked, and stepping back all the chaos lord could do for now was parry and block the ruthlessly aggressive onslaught of the once calm bretonnian knight.

The skirmish continued, Malystryx attempting to bash at the knight with his shield and gauntlet while the knight continued to swing away with his morning star. With a moment of brilliance the knight used his shield to knock away Malystryx's own, and thrusting forth again he beset his weapon into the shoulder of the chaos lord with all his force. There was a bone splintering noise as it crushed the shoulder plate of his armour deep into his skin, and the shield fell to the ground as his left arm fell limp. Now rage ignited in Malystryx's eyes, and with a quick motion that the bretonnian knight was unprepared for he lunged forth with his right fist, the gauntlet smashing into the bretonnian's head denting in the armour and sending him spinning and then falling to the ground, dizziness taking over as blood poured into his eyes.

Malystryx saw this as his chance, ignoring the pain that was causing him much discomfort, he leaped forward again, landing heavily onto the bretonnian knight. He brought his gauntletted fist back once more, letting it fall with all the force he could muster onto the head of the bretonnian once more, watching the armour cave in he bellowed with pride at the victory that he had ascertained against all odds. Standing, he turned to the assembly and held up his fist, his sign of victory. The crowd didn't make a noise however, not yet, and the hush allerted Malystryx of what was going on, turning he noticed the bretonnian who had been still on the ground before, was on his feet, gripping the morning star in both hands. "Die vile demon.", were the words spoken as he swung the fierce weapon with both arms and all his might. Malystryx could not hope to move as the end of the weapon crushed his head into nothing, his heavy body crashing to the ground soon after.

Then the arena shook with the approval...

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R1: M - 0 BK - 1 (broke the weapon) BKH - 0
R2: M - 0 BK - 0 BKH - 0
R3: M - 0 BK - 0 BKH - 0
R4: M - 0 BK - 1 BKH - 0
R5: M - 1 BK - 0 BKH - 0
R6: M - 1 BK - 1

Close fight. Next fight will be typed up tonight.

For those of you in the tourney, read the last post in the main thread.

Fight 2
----------

The crowd was in a restless state as they waited for the next fight, a few brawls had broken out and guards had been forced to take some kicking and screaming humans and greenskins away. The creaking and then crashing of the iron gates both opening simultaneously got the audience's attention once more, cheers ringing up before the entire arena was shaking again from this particularly rowdy mass of individuals. From one side came a dwarf, his red beard seemed to suggest what he used to be, but his armour showed what he was now. A walking wall of hair. Or that's what it seemed, he was just short and engulfed in armour and...hair. His axe was nearly as big as he was, and as he walked there was most definately an intimidating eir about him. On the other side was something a bit wilder, leaves entwined in his hair and much taller, there was a wood elf. This one seemed particularly wild, a cloak thrown crudely around his shoulders as he was sitting on the bare-back of an elven steed. He was poised more like a feral animal than the typical grace like nature of elves.

This time, there was something of a staredown, but it didn't last long. The primitive elf had no patience, and his anger was evident. He had issues. Charging forth, holding to the hair of the steed, he was heading extremely fast towards the pound of metal. A moment later his blade was drawn, humming with magical energy as he came by towards the shorter, much shorter dwarf, swinging with a wild skill. The sword rang with power as it clonked against the heavy armour, not penetrating but disgruntling the dwarf. A roar rang out in the pit, sand flying up while the dwarf sprang forward, with an odd speed, he swung his giant axe in a large arc, and a spray of blood soiled the ground again. There was a scream of rage, rather than pain as the wood elf lord sprung off his horse, which had been severed in half by the powerful swing accomplished by the dwarf. The arena was shaking again with glee.

Kael rolled from the ground, the cloak flying off to expose the terrible wound inflicted upon the belligerent elf. A whole chunk had been taken out of his side, driving him to a rather terrifying and deep fury, befitting of him. He leapt forward, swinging his sword in amazingly fast and powerful arcs, Garagrim was overwhelmed, his armour managed to deflect most of the barbaric attacks, but it could only do so much. The sword penetrated in two places, humming with a powerful magic, blood spewed forth from the wound in his shoulder and in his lower leg. Garagrim let out a bellow of pain, his axe falling slightly from his grip and he fell to his other knee, the one that hadn't been slashed.

The audience roared, the arena shaking, the dwarves were in an uproar booing and breaking into fights with the weakling beardless elves in the crowd. Kael turned, a sickly look in his eyes, rage was flickering in his eyes as he stood over the dwarf. It had been an honourable battle, but Garagrim had killed his steed. Gripping the hilt of the sword with both of his hands, he swung, putting all of his weight and his strength behind it as he aimed it for the neck of the dwarf, where there was no armour. Garagrim met his fate with courage, not faltering or begging as his head rolled to the ground, a massive pile of beard and blood. It was finished.

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Sorry not a long fight, it was really offense oriented.

R1: K - 0 G - 2 KH - 0
R2: K - 2 G - 0 KH - 0
R3: K - 1

The initiative was prolly what won the fight. I just gave the horse a death because it fueled the fight and the horse didn't do anything anyway.

too bad I lost :P

I didn't think you were going to it was weird. I don't expect Kael to make it past the next round anyway.

Fight 3
---------

The sun was beginning to set, it's dieing rays casting a strange orange-purple glow over the entire arena. This seemed to calm the audience somewhat, they're jeering only reaching slightly loud levels now, the arena ceasing to shake. The crashing of the gates could be heard easily this time over the noise of the crowd, and out came the two new contestants.

Aravar, another champion of the high elves made his way elegantly across and onto the sand, his robes blowing to and frow. He had a very clean appearance, and radiated an aura of purity. His slanted eyes could easily pick out each form in the crowd, and raising up his arm, he drew his sword with a very clean -shhkt-, pointing it towards his opponent and raising his voice in a hateful challenge upon seeing the druuchi highborn. "Despicable slug, prepare to be abolished!!!", he bellowed across the arena to his opponent, bringing his sword down in a swift movement to his side, lowering himself and preparing to charge.

Kih-Ti seemed to be amused by his cousin's actions. Pitiful, he thought. His cold one was becoming restless, grinding its clawed limbs to the sand, snarling and drooling profusely. It's eyes were resting on the opponent aswell, as the purplish rays glinted off it's rider, it began a slow trot forwards, the scaley cape about Kih-Ti's neck moving about slightly, causing a disturbing image to become even worse. He looked like something out of nightmares with his pale skin and his rather dangerous looking armour, and weaponry. With a snarl he kicked his heels into the sides of his monstruous mount, charging it forward while he drew his blade, holding the crackling magical weapon with a ferocity that could only be held between these most hateful of foes.

As the two came close to eachother, it was Aravar who was first to strike, his own weapon humming with magic that was barely contained within the thin sword, he leapt forth swinging it in a wide arch, but it moved so fast that many would not have seen the multiple times that he had slashed. The sword drew blood, even though he could feel his energy being drained by the malevolent shield, Aravar's sword pierced through the near impenetrable armour but once, the highborn screaming with his rage at such a thing. Growling, he shifted in his saddle, and then leaned forward as both he and his mount prepared to tear Aravar into shreds, the contemptuous high elf that stood blatantly disrespectful before him. His sword seemed to tear even the air apart as it howled, piercing through the robes of the high elf prince, ripping a long and painful gash through his chest and sending a spray of blood all over the sand. Aravar stumbled back in pain, his legs faltering a moment as he fell to his knees. As he looked up, the last look on his face was that of despair as the Cold One closed it's jaws in upon his head, taking it clear from his shoulders.

The arena shook...

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Round 1: A - 1 KT - 2 CO - 1

Aravar's lack of armour really screwed him over, and I rolled a 1 on his save against the cold one.

aw man!

good game...

that was a veyr good read

Fight 4
---------

The sun had finally set, the sky seemingly blanketed in a bluish glow from the rather close moon. The stars shone brightly, each with it's own meaning and agenda. There was a light breeze that continued through the arena, and many of the creatures in the audience were either sleeping or had left. But there were still enough to create an uproar in the stands (you would wonder how someone could sleep through that?), they knew this was going to be the final battle of the day, and it was going to be good.

The screeching began again, some of the sleeping ones woke up once more to witness the end of the day. Day one in the arena of champions, already three had died, blood stained the sand, and the audience was waiting for more bloodshed. Trotting forth on a rather terrifying looking steed, Kjarl entered. He was a monster of a man, and his steed was much the same. Dark smoke was emitted from the nostrils of his daemonic mount, horns and spines all over it, it's hooves left giant prints in the sand as it moved forth, some of the sand turning to glass as it moved, it was that hot. Kjarl's eyes focused on his opponent, and he grinned, hefting his axe upon his shoulder he let his loud, bellowing like laughter echo across the pit, mocking his enemy. "Weakling elf, I wish that I had but a better opponent!!!", he spat, before placing a giant helm over his crazed visage. He battered against his shield, and bellowed some more, attempting to intimidate the high elf prince.

Of course, this was to no avail, as the noble elf began a steady gait with his steed forward, the barding moving as if it were one with the beast. His armour glinted in the starlight and moonlight combined, making him seem almost ethereal, his pendant hummed with magical energy, something that covered him in his own protective field. Narrowing his already slanted eyes, his steed broke into a full charge then, and he raised his great weapon that he held with both hands to the air, screaming his battle cry. His robes that covered his elequent and intricate armour fluttered as the Exalted Chamion and Elven Prince descended upon eachother, the clash together rattling armour and being alike. The frienzied champion of Khorne was the first to strike, the Elven Prince having been encumbered too much by his great weapon, strong but hard to weild. Strangely enough however, in his fury he lacked the required skill to actually hit the opponent, and his axe was swung to and fro, but wildly out of control, the high elf easily maneuvering in his saddle to avoid it. The Daemonic Steed was no exception, it's hooves flailing wildly as it's opposite (Imrahil's steed), struggled to avoid it's wild attacks.

Now it was his turn, but Imrahil had just as much luck as the Khornite. Bracing himself and swinging his weapon with all of his might, he only managed to strike a glancing blow, sliding it off the armour of the enemy and causing himself to almost lose balance but righting himself, his horse adjusted and the two opponents cirlced eachother a moment, but Kjarl was clearly the most impatient, and charged in once more with his axe moving about in his fury again, relying more on strength and speed than skill...This time it proved to be more effective, having just recently regained his balance the Elf Lord was no longer suited to the quick and erretic movements that were required to dodge the feral attacks and the first pierced his armour near his side, drawing a long line of blood that welled up and burst through the opening. A scream could be heard throughout the arena as the crowd shook the place, and Imrahil dropped his weapon so as to hold his wound, only after having done so did he realise the consequences. With a bellow of triumph and fury for the blood god, the Khornite worshipper raised his heavy and visciously adorned axe above his head with both hands now, dropping his shield for the moment. "Haha-hahaha!!! Blood for the Blood God!!!", were the last words Imrahil heard as the axe plunged down, crackling with the magical forces of Khaine and literally splitting him in twine. Each half of his body falling to either side of the also impaled horse, which perished with a quiet whinny. Blood everywhere, the audience finally roared. It was over.

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Round 1: K - 0 DS - 0 I - 0 IH - 0
Round 2: K - 1 +3(KB)

Unlucky Kjarl didn't even hit once in the first round then hit with all of them in the second. Also made 1 lucky 6+ armour save in the first round.

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The first day was finally over and the cheering of the crowd could still be heard from miles at that last, particularly gory finish, but the creatures finally started making their way out. The stars hung high in the sky, and the moon overlooked the place of death and destruction. They had each come here of their own free will, and only one would leave alive, unles the victor so chose to spare. Each of the victors were lead away to their rooms, the next morning it would be early, and they would get to face whoever they wanted to challenge this time, rather than their opponent being chosen for them. But there seemed ot be an otherworldly presense there...something watching over each of the contestants. Something with power possibly even equivalent to a god?

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Alright so basically you have 24 hours to start challenging and such. Make the challenges in the main thread, not this one.

Fight 5
---------

The sun was just dawning on the arena as the semi finals were scheduled to begin. Each luminescant beam of light from the sun that rained down upon the colliseum cause mixed reactions. Those of joy and those of spite, some detested the light, while others clearly enjoyed it. The crowd was somewhat more settled than usual, simply because it was early in the morning and nothing had been going on yet. While they had been sleeping, the matches were made, and no one knew what to expect. Collectors were ready to start the betting, as soon as the two opponents were going to show themselves, and depending on who they were.

From each side of the arena there was a loud screeching noise, the obvious signal that the gargantuan gates had begun to open, releasing the two savage fighters. This would be the beginning of the end of the tournament for one of them, each hoping it was the other. The will to live, fight, and to gain glory drove them to do things that were unimaginable normally. Resting upon his daemonic steed at the opposite side of the Black Knight, Kjarl let his fiery eyes rest upon his opponent. There was a growling noise, and the steed went onto just it's back legs, smoke blowing from it's nose along with some fire. Kjarl raised his magically enchanted axe to the air, then pointing it towards the enemy in his outright challenge. "I'll kill you for Khorne!!!!", he bellowed across at the man, then began his charge.

The Black Knight was much the same, though instead of enraged he was steady. His warhorse had been killed in the first match, which he sorely regretted, but it was replaced just as easily. So as it went onto it's hind legs, he brandished his Morning Star, the sunlight glinting off of his armour and the mount's barding, giving him the perfect vision of a chivalrous knight. Thus he began his glorious, yet corny, charge as well, heading directly towards his enemy, the Exalted Champion of Khorne. The two of them clashing together was with boneshattering force, only the great armour tha they worse protected eachother from such a collision. As the melee began, the Khornite once again let his frenzied attitude get the better of him, swinging wildly with his axe and missing horribly in his lack of skill. The Black Knight could feel the sweat dripping off his forehead as the magically humming axe whizzed just near to his head, but he did not let it daunt him. Thrusting his own body forth, he pulled the morning star of fracasse back, and smashed it down with all his might at the champion of chaos. The morning star crushed the shield of his opponent against his shoulder, breaking his arm and causing Kjarl to back up and actually think about this battle. Mindless attacking wasn't going to win it.

Grinning, the Black knight continued forth, but was in for a shock as the Khornite oddly was faster than him, swinging his axe about with such force that it knocked the bretonnian off of his horse and onto the ground. He suffered no damage however, the armour protecting him easily, and getting to his feet, the Black knight prepared to attack once more and swinging the morning star again, he left no option of dodging to Kjarl. Kjarl did the only thing he could think of, he brought his axe to bear, to counter strike against the weapon, he did not think something made from Khorne himself would break. His mistake. The weapon shattered upon impact, and it left something of a dumbfounded look upon his face, but rage soon followed, and prodding the daemonic steed forward, it kicked out with it's infinitely powerful frontal legs, and they each landed on the chest of the bretonnian knight, sending him flying back through the air to land on his back in the sand, his armour having been melted in the front to his chest, the burning causing him a substantial ammount of pain.

Returning to his feet, the knight realised that he had dropped his weapon, Kjarl picking it up himself, there was a sickly grin on the champion of khorne's face as he advanced, dismounting from his steed. He knew there was no chance left for the bretonnian, He may have beaten that Slaaneshi scum...but he has no chance against me!, were his thoughts as he continued in his dreadful advance. The two met once more, and all the bretonnian could do was ward off the malicious blows with his shield, keeping himself concentrating so that he could not be defeated. In fact, he would not be defeated, he couldn't allow it. In a final hope at winning, the Black Knight leapt forth in between the blows from Kjarl, smashing him in the face with his shield, using both hands. This knocked the Khornite to the ground, but the knight did not relent, he leapt upon the fallen foe and began his onslaught, bashing the shield against his head over and over and over again. A few minutes had passed and the struggling chaos champion was no longer moving. The winner standing and opening his visor. It was over.

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Round 1: K - 0 BK - 1 DS - 0 WH - 0
Round 2: K - 0 BK - 0 (broke the weapon though) DS - 1 WH - 0
Round 3: K - 0 BK - 0 DS - 0 WH - 0
Round 4: K - 1 BK - 1

Good fight.

Fight 6
---------

After the body of the fallen chaos champion was dragged off the sand, and the injured knight was helped away. The crowd was in an upraor, banging their feet, smashing anything they could, just making as much noise as possible in general. They were chanting now, hoping for the next fight to begin as soon as possible so they could go get their lunches before the final match. The sun had reached the middle of the sky now, and it was hanging there, illuminating the colliseum. The gates were starting again...coming up with a crash. The time for death was at hand.

On one side, the wilder elf stepped forth, accompanied by his mount, that strangely he did not ride. Leaves entwined in his hair as always, he was whispering in his own language to the steed, calming it and giving it directions at the same time. He moved his cloak slightly about his shoulders, before stepping forth, drawing his magically crackling sword, holding it up to receive the cheering from the crowd that he had earned from his first victory. The Druchii warrior across from him made many of the same gestures, though his were much more violent and filled with rage as well as bloodlust. The battle was about to begin, you could tell by the restlessness that was in the crowd and the fighters. As if a gunshot had gun off to signal a race, they both charged. Kael ran beside his steed, keeping amazingly up with it, while the cold one growled and roared furiously.

They clashed, Kael being the first to draw blood as he leapt up, swinging his magically humming sword to rake it across the chest of Kih-Ti. The Dark Elf hissed in pain, bringing up his hand that held the shield of ghrond to his wound, meanwhile counterattacking himself. The sword ripped through the very fiber of the air, crashing through the magical defenses that Kael posessed to impale through his shoulder, piercing out the other side with a spray of blood and an ear shattering bellow of pain. Ha!, the dark elf though, got you cousin!!There was a sickening look in his eyes, one of sadistic pleasure in this type of fight. The look didn't remain there long, as the steed that Kael had been conversing with was off the ground, and gave Kih-Ti a quick kick to the head. The elf was sent flying, howling in his rage at this pain before landing in a heap on the ground. The mount had been successful and it went to pick up it's rider.

Before the steed could make it to Kael however, Kih-Ti's cold one took advantage of the wounded Wood Elf, lunging forth and snapping with it's jaws. The teeth punctured him about the leg, raking and tearing the flesh from the bone. The elven steed booted the Cold One away finally, after moments of sheer excruciating pain the elven lord fell to the ground, unable to walk after the bone had been destroyed. Laying up on the ground he knew that all was lost, he lay there waiting ffor the end, his shield gone and his weapon having fallen at some point. He was beginning to lose consciousness from the pain and bloodloss. Through hazy vision he could see the Dark elf advancing upon him, it had slain his new steed and it was his turn now. Gripping his sword with both of his hands, Kih-Ti grinned, bringing it down with a sharp force, impaling it through the chest of Kael and embedding it deep into the sand as a sign of victory. He raised his hand to meet the adoration of the audience. If anyone had bothered to look however, Kael's body had disappeared, only leaving a pool of blood about the sword.

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Round 1: Kael - 1 KT - 1 KH - 1 CO - 1
Round 2: Kael - 0 KT - 0 KH - 0 CO - 0
Round 3: Kael - 0 KT - 1

And thus Kael looses and Kih-ti advances to the finals.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
you lost to a DARK ELF, fool
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
So, the bretonion is next? this should be a cinch

Fight 7
---------

The sun was beginning to fall behind the hills once more, casting an eerie glow over the entire arena, setting the mood for the fight perfectly. This would be the end of the tournament, to the winner would go insurmountable pride, and the loser to the next world. The crowd even knew the importance of this match, and thus they didn't create the usual stir that was there, and because of it the silence seemed to oddly accent the atmosphere. It was even somewhat cold, the signs that winter was approaching. The breath of many in the stands could be seen, and it looked as if there was smoke coming from the colliseum.

Finally the gates moved up, but strangely there was no noise for this match, as if they had been oiled or fixed up. Coming from either entrance were the two who had made it thus far. It was a great feat of them both to have made it here, each having had a difficult advance (some more than others <.<...), and each having had their mistakes. But only by learning from their mistakes would they be capable of finishing with this tournament alive. The Black Knight rode with his head high into the pit of sand, his mighty warhorse snorting and being restless as was expected. Looking forth as the last rays of the sun shined dimly off of his armour, the bretonnian from Mousillon had faced evils far worse than the Druchii warrior that he was now presented with, and he was steadfast in his slow advance with his warhorse. Opposite him, Kih-Ti was thinking much the same, there had been better opponents than this, and he had defeated them all. Why should this be any different? The sickeningly aggressive armour that the Druchii warrior wore was gleaming dimly aswell, his shield and sword both crackling with a dark, magical energy.

The advance quickened, and the audience was silent. The only noise that could be heard was the wind howling through the circular arena. Then the crash. Both mounts were oddly crippled by the impact with eachother, the Cold One from the sheer speed of the Warhorse, and the Warhorse by the viscious lizard's pure strength. The two riders were sent flying, each in their own direction to land with a bone crunching thud in the sand. Getting quickly to their feet, they each went to meet eachother in a melee, fighting furiously. The first attack was of course from the Elven foe, his rage barely concealed with his raging attacks, each one missing as the bretonnian deftly parried his blade with a shield and little bit of luck. But the elf was not so lucky. The Black Knight let his mace fall with a thundering force, landing right on the shoulder of the dark elf, crushing the armour into his bone and breaking them both. Magical energies swirled through his arm and to the magical sword, shattering it and causing the druchii highborn to scream in pain. It was all he could do to ward off the attacks coming from the bretonnian with his shield for now.

This continue for a while, neither being capable of penetrating the others defense. Mostly because the diabolical elf had no way of fighting back anymore, and thus was completely on the defensive. Meanwhile, the bretonnian knight was much the opposite, completely offensive as he smashed and smashed away at the magical shield with his morning star. Of course, no matter what this could not continue for long, and deciding that all defense would not win him the battle, Kih-Ti pushed back with his shield, knocking the knight off balance. Taking advantage of this, and his maliciously designed armour, he made a quick thrusting motion with his leg, kicking out and into the chest of the Black Knight, his armoured foot penetrating deep through the armour as a result of the solid steel spike on the end. Blood was now pouring out of the wounds of the two individuals. Breathing was heavy, and the crowd was in suspense, this could go either way.

They clashed once more, this time worse than last, each fighting with a vengeance, the druchii however having a new invigoration at the damage he had dealt, but the knight had a new rage to counter it. The standstill continued once more, trading blows and neither really getting the upper hand. The sun had finally set, and it was dark now, the only illumination of the arena being provided by the fires all about. The audience could barely make out the quickly sprung attacks by each of the opponents, and though neither had the upper hand, they were both beginning to get weary. Ther ewas a breaking point however, and the bretonnian had a sheer moment of brilliance, he threw his shield at Kih-Ti. The shield collided with the Dark Elf warrior and sent him off balance. Now was his time of glory, the bretonnian jumped up, gripping the Morning Star with both of his hands and pulling it back to finish the fight. This was it, his moment, the end of the tournament, the beginning of all that he had strived to accomplish. The dying scream of the druchii warrior could be heard through the entire stadium, the morning star having broken through the magical shield and the skull of this valient, though twisted, warrior.

The Black Knight took a moment, on one knee before looking up to the crowd. He had won, and they were all on their feet, cheering and clapping and whistling. They respected him, and he was filled with pride.

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Round 1: KT - 0 BK - 0 WH - 0 CO - 0
Round 2: KT - 0 BK - 1 (broke the weapon)
Round 3: KT - 0 BK - 0
Round 4: KT - 0 BK - 0
Round 5: KT - 0 BK - 0
Round 6: KT - 0 BK - 0
Round 7: KT - 0 BK - 0
Round 8: KT - 1 BK - 0
Round 9: KT - 0 BK - 0
Round 10: KT - 1 BK - 1
Round 11: KT - 0 BK - 1

It was a long fight, kind of got boring to roll after a bit. But it was a good one, it was close though, good job and congrats Luc.

Why did my axe broke :huh: . lol, i really thought without his magical weapon i would 've had killed the bret. :D But it was a good death! His soul will rest the abiss, hehe

...........Why did your axe break? The Runeshield should have countered my Morning Star, but even then, the Killing Blow probably wouldn't have worked on me, really low chance against 6 to get it and getting through my 4+ ward. But nevertheless some good reading.