Battle Royale: Knightmare

[Lord Fear]

Knowing that he's not going to be sent back Lord Fear goes to hide in a tree and covers himself to keep himself hidden.

[Young Grimwold]

*YG manages to catch Hordriss' words as the contestants disperse. Scared to follow anyone else, he stumbles off in a separate direction, until he is alone.*

*Checking his knapsack (which smells new, and looks rather too stylish for even a genteel ogre), YG is mildly relieved to discover a map, which, with some scrutiny, should lead him to the 'Eastern border' of which Hordriss spoke. He is intrigued by the other items he finds.*

*Then he spots a weapon. One that can both kill, and maim. YG feels a familiar terror emerging in his stomach, like bubbles and steam rising from the family cauldron. Whilst violence is innate among ogres, YG has always done his best to avoid murder. He feels far more alone, and trapped, than he did the last time he was in the Forest of Dunn. Looking again at the weapon, he decides that suicide is a definite option.*

[Lord Fear]

LF opens his Knapsack and see the objects in it*

"If this is a joke then I'm doing to start playing by MY own rules" He thought to himself as he looked in the knapsack. "Luckly I still have my rings"

[Sylvester Hands]

* Hides behind a tree so the others can't see him looking into his new-found mirror *

[Kully]

[OOC: Game on! May be an idea not to let others know what objects and spells you have until you use them, othgerwise roleplay with be biased by OOC knowledge!!!]

[Ursula]

*Sitting underneath a rock ledge near the river, Ursula examines the items in her knapsack, somewhat disdainfully. The map and item she has no trouble identifying, but the bottle and scroll give her more trouble as the writing is no more than neat scratches to her. Thankfully the bottle is also labelled with an image that gives her an idea of its purpose, and as she handles the scroll, a word forms itself in her mind*

"...hmmmm... more magic it seems... But I will have no part of it."

*Dropping the knapsack, Ursula gets to her feet, looking around cautiously. Although she has no wish to fight, she is certain that some of the other contenders will not see things the same way*

"Well... it seems that the best course of action is to avoid the others for now... and this is hardly the best form to do so..."

*Stretching her arms, she shifts form as she does so, and brings both arms down to the ground as they transform into paws, her clothes dissolving into thick tawny brown fur. In her Ursine form, Ursula appears as a normal bear, although anyone who has seen her in a more bestial form will most likely recognise her by the colour of her fur. she starts to shamble off into the trees, when she suddenly hesitates, looking back at the knapsack abandoned under the ledge.*

*With a resigned grunt, she lumbers back over to get it, nudging her blunt head under the strap so that it hangs about her neck. Snorting in annoyance at both herself and how silly she now looks, she vanishes into the trees, looking for a better hiding place*

[Skiprazor]

"I have been thrust into this situation a thousand times, it seems...yet today I am as lost as the first time I tasted competition."

[*Secluded among the giant boulders of the northern wilderness, Skiprazor crouches down and removes his knapsack. He appears visibly weakened, and his eyes, which normally emit an irridescent blue glow, are flickering like a torch in the wind. Exasperation, mixed with a small sneer of resignation, washes over his face. He extends his hand towrds a nearby clump of thicket, willing desperately for his 'gift' to return to his grip, but nothing happens. He silently curses the Old Man's choice of rules - for even though his powers are far removed from the sorcery used by several of his opponents, he has been compromised just the same. After much effort, a few small sparks emerge from his fingertips, but it is barely sufficient to ignite tinder.*]

[*Robbed of his latent abilities, Skiprazor's thoughts turn to melee combat - an art he has not partaken in since arriving in the realm. Nonethless, he has been a warrior long before coming here, and still retains all of his old martial skills. His hand moves instinctively to his belt, whereupon he is dismayed to learn that his matal-shafted dagger is gone, as is the defensive rod of steel normally bound around his forearm. His dismay turns to disgust when he opens the knapsack and surveys the items therein. But as he turns the items over in his hands, an emotion begins to well up inside him - an emotion he has not felt, nor been allowed to feel, for what seems like an aeon. It is the thrill of the game, of the hunt - of survival.*]

[*Filled with a renewed vigour, Skiprazor packs up his items, shouders his baggage and, seeping over the rocks like a wave from the oceans, moves into the dense thicket of the forest.*]

[Tom Troughton]

*Tom stood silent amoung the trees contamplating the problem. His race the Alzans were so good at camoflarge that no one would find him.*

"Hmmm, I must reach Hordriss But How?"

*Sudernly Tom heard a stagned Clanking noise comeing from behind him. He turned round and his blood froze.*

[Lord Fear]

"It's time to test if my rings still work in this pathetic dimension" said Lord Fear as he prepared to throw a fireball.

[Kully]

[OOC: Remember back to the beginning, Fear - all magical abilities are removed]

[Lord Fear]

[*Bangs his head on the wall* I forgot sorry]

Lord Fear throws his arm foreward but notices that no fireball was thrown.

"Dragons breath" said Lord Fear as he tried again, again and again but nothing.

"Looks like I have to use these useless items to my advantage somehow" muttered Lord Fear.

[Skiprazor]

[*"Dragon'sbreath!"*]

[*Skiprazor freezes as the solitary utterance echoes through the forest canopy above him. The speaker is unseen, though doubtless in the trees overhead, and their tone, though unknown to Skiprazor, is filled with a truly evil blend of malice, grandeur and frustration. His nerves tense, preparing themselves for the effects of some diabolical spell that will surely spell the end of his game. After a few moments, he realises that no sorcery is afoot - the word is a mere curse.*]

[*He flattens himself against the tree as the rustling of leaves and low mutterings continues overhead. He has no idea who could be up there, but he is praying that they are attired in materials that will be advantageous to him. Reaching into his knapsack, he pulls out what is presumably his provided weapon, eyeing it with disdain.*]

[*Skiprazor's eyes close as he once again wills the enegry to reach his fingertips. After a few moments of silent agony, he resigns himself to the fact that even his own sense of being has been compromised by the Old One's rules. The energy he could have produced would doubtless have enhanced the functionality of his weapon, but as it is, he resigns himself to the fact that he will have to fight like just another mortal.*]

[*Filled with doubt, Skiprazor looks upwards and points the weapon directly at the source of the noise, high up in the branches.*]

[Sylvester Hands]

Kully said:

May be an idea not to let others know what objects and spells you have until you use them, othgerwise roleplay with be biased by OOC knowledge!

[OOC: Sorry, I'll bear that in mind (though one of the skills of role-playing, practised here on a few previous occasions, is having and not using player knowledge).]

[Kully]

{OOC: Very true. Apologies if anyone thinks I am undermining their RP skills.]

[Kully]

*Skiprazor's weapon pulses in his hand, but the field seems to either not reach high enough or has no effect on those around him at this point. Perhaps he should try again later...*