Battle Royale: Knightmare

[FrightKnight]

*FrightKnight quickly becomes bored sitting in a tree and contemplates using one of the items in the knapscak. Surely this spell must have SOME use...?*

(OOC: Well, he'll be in action after I've had some much needed rest. Back again tomorrow...)

[Skiprazor]

[*After a few tense moments, Skiprazor lowers his weapon, as the inate ridiculousness of what he is doing finally begins to sink in. He can think of only one, maybe two at the most, among the combatants who would be affected in any way directly by the object given to him by the Old One, and the individual overhead must not be one of them. Either that, or the weapon's effect is too weak, crippled by his own lack of power in this place. *]

[*Stuffing the object back in his knapsack, his knuckles glance off a glass bottle he had forgotten he had. With mild curiosity, he palms it and turns the label around in front of his face. The word written on the bottle is familiar enough to give him hope, as it will only serve to augment his own unique combat skills. That is, assuming it works the way he intends....*]

[*Skiprazor takes a deep breath, tilts his head back and, confident the individual in the tree is still unaware of his presence, drinks the bottle dry. He places the empty vial back in his knapsack and stands patiently, waiting for the bitter liquid to take effect.*]

[Kully]

*Skiprazor begins to think the potion was a hoax, as he feels no different. He glances down at his knapsack...to find that it is gone - as is the rest of him. He jumps in shock, and with the movement sees the outline of his figure and the contours of his body shift.

He gasps.

Skiprazor is now, in effect, a man sized chameleon.

He takes a look around and considers his next move, as there is no telling how long the potion will last...*

[Skiprazor]

[*Stunned into near-paralysis by the radical effects of the potion, Skiprazor quickly regains his senses - the cloaking factor will doubtless wear off after a short while. He decides to capitalize on his newfound invisibility, driven onwards by an overwhelming, and not altogether alien, desire to score the first kill.*]

[*Skiprazor climbs nimbly up the treetrunk, being careful not to disturb the leaves and branches. His progress is slowed both by the caution of stealth combat and the extra concentration required to co-ordinate his translucent limbs effectively. In a matter of seconds, however, he peers over a branch and spies the cursing individual.*]

[*The man has his back to Skiprazor, but even at this, there is no mistaking the chrome armour and luxurious velvet cloak of Lord Fear himself. Skiprazor has never crossed his path until now, choosing instead to keep himself anonymous from the Opposition, and yet here was their great leader before him now, totally unaware of his prescence.*]

[*He is just about to lunge at Fear, hands positioned to deliver a fatal neck-snap, when a small branch caught on his surcoat snaps loudly below. Skiprazor freezes, motionless, breath held, every muscle tensed, with his hands scant inches away from Fear's head.*]

[Automatum]

The Automatum steps into the clearing and turns his head slowly to face Tom. His shades glint in the sunlight light.
There is a sudden flash of red and a narrow red beam of light hits the tree nearest to Toms head. The tree erupts into flames.
The Automatum moves forward.

[Tom Troughton]

*Tom turns and bolts, but The Automatum is close on his heals. Tom runs harder pushing tree's bushes and all maner of obsticals out of his way. Finaly he begins to lose The Automatum.*

"Got to keep going."

*Tom looks back The Automatum is no were to be seen Tom burst through another bush and.....................*

*His hand grabs for the branch to stop his fall. The ground is a good 20-30 feet below.*

[Tom Troughton]

*Tom clung to the branch for dear life. He looked down at the sheer drop below, but his face showed no fear, in fact his expression was almost one of acceptance and partial relief.*

“I’ve one chance.”

*He muttered and started to swing his feet trying to reach the edge of the cliff. He missed the first time, but the second time he made it.*

“Now just to move along this branch.”

*Tom started inching his hands forward along the branch. He was nearly there when his left hand slipped Tom lost his footing and was left dangling by one hand. He looked away and thought of all his friends.*

“Meliss, Yong Grimwold, Sidriss, Julia, Hordriss, Rob & Ursula. I’ll miss you all, Farewell and fair chance my friends.”

*Then his other hand lost its grip and he plummeted to the ground. But Tom did not scream or cry out, he just fell sighlently down to earth. There was a sickening thud as his body impacted with the rocks below. His body made one last jerk as if attempting to sit up then, all was still and the Comical but powerful Hobo Magician called Tom Troughton was dead.*

Contestant #2, Tom Troughton, dead. 9 to go.

[Young Grimwold]

[OOC: You're not going to Regenerate, are you? ;D]

*Young Grimwold stands at the top of a Forest precipice, overlooking the Dunnfalls. Despite his time at sea, he never spent much of it in the water. In his mind, he has endowed it with a cathartic power: the ability to wash worries away; the ability to wash him away. Managing to find people he cared about so soon after moving to Wolfenden was something he never expected; but how can he feel gratitude, when those people are out to kill him? He wants self-control, yet he wants to punish himself - why this confusion? Because none of this seems real. And if it's unreal, it can easily end. Victory in defeat.*

I'll never play this game.

*YG has raised his knapsack, ready to dispose of it in the sweeping currents of the Wolftrack River; when he sees Tom die. The snapping of branches as Tom falls is a snapping back to reality for YG. He is not ready to die yet. Unable to gaze at Tom's corpse, he panics and runs back in amongst the trees.*

[OOC: Is Tom's knapsack left behind for one of us to find, or did it fall with him?]

[Lord Fear]

*Hearing about what happened to Tom, is very,very pleased*

"It must be my lucky day" gloated Lord Fear

*He continues to sit in his tree hiding and waiting*

[Skiprazor]

[*The seconds pass like hours, Skiprazor's lungs tortured with the holding of his breath. Fear seems certain to turn round and investigate the snapping twig when a sorcerous presence makes itself felt in the ether. Though no words are spoken, the presence implants knowledge in his mind - a sensation no doubt shared with the other combatants. The hobo magaician has been the first casualty. Skiprazor feels a slight twinge of remorse, though he can not help but wonder who would have been cunning enough to dispose of the wizard. He is also smart enough to be thankful that he did not have to meet the hobo magician in combat himself.*]

[*Fear, meanwhile, appears openly pleased at the news, chuckling to himself as if at a private joke. It becomes obvious that he is still ignorant of his foe's presence less than a foot behind him. Skiprazor can feel the effects of the Stealth potion beginning to wear off; he has to move now, regardless of risk.*]

[*In one violent motion, he lunges at Fear's back. Catching his adversary's head under his arm, he locks his hands and allows his own body weight to carry him over the branch and into thin air. Fear is dragged by the neck off the tree, face first, still clutching his knapsack as the two crash through the thicket. Branches whip at them, flint-sharp wood that bloodies and tears, as they tumble towards the forest floor, finally crashing to the ground - Skiprazor on his back, Fear on his head - with a bone-jarring impact. Leaves shower the bodies from above. The screecing of ravens flocking from the canopy overhead echoes out like a death-knell.*]

[*Skiprazor gets to his feet, agonized from the fall. Stumbling away from the prone form of Lord Fear, he retrieves his own knapsack and takes a moment to catch his breath. The risk he has taken is a severe one, and he may find himself compromised when he next encounters an enemy, but he is satisfied inwardly - satisfied that he is performing his macabre task efficiently, despite his extreme reservations.*]

[*He is startled from behind by the rustling of undergrowth, and turning round sharply, is exasperated to see Fear slowly getting to his feet. Blood flows from a gash on the side of his forehead and he is physically exhausted, but he has survived the fall, saved from death by the solid chrome of his armour and helmet. Now fully upright, Skiprazor can not fail to be impressed by the sorcerer's imposing appearance. Lean and muscular, he is clad in black chrome and leather, his cloak billowing out behind him - indeed, he looks more like a military general than the technosorcerer he really is. His eyes, black in their sockets, are blazing with uncontrolled malice. Yet he appears almost amused, as if he found Skiprazor's attempt on his life a mere triviality.*]

[*Their eyes lock across the forest. Silence falls, punctuated only by the occasional rustling of the foliage. A light rain has begun to fall through the canopy, soaking the two combatants in seconds and rendering Skiprazor's camoflauge almost obsolete. Yet their gaze remains focused, resolute, determined. Now is the time for action.*]

[*Skiprazor's body flickers and fades as the effects of the potion begin to dissipate. His face breaks into a snarl, and he races pell-mell towards his foe, his eyes bleeding contempt.*]

"Come on, Fear!!"

[Lord Fear]

"Perhaps it's time you joined that Hobo, I always knew he was a mortal" gloated Fear

*He opens hi Knapsack and pulls out his object from it, a long thick stick which he decides to use it as if it was a sword snice it was sharp at the ends*

"Get a load of this mortal" shouted Fear as he charged at Skiprazor

[Sylvester Hands]

* Attempts to sneak through the trees behind Skiprazor to come to Fear's aid. *

[Thinks:] I don't care what that old geezer said; I'm loyal to the Opposis- Osoppi- Oppsiti- baddies!

[Kully]

*Aching slightly, Tom finds himself lying in the middle of the circle they started off in, with the Old Man standing over him.*

Man: Oh dear, oh dear. This will not do at all. I was hoping you would be a survivor, for all your morals, but it seems I was wrong. Even a runner like you has his...erm...pitfalls. Never mind, eh? Just rest assured you will not be rewarded for aggression, I suppose.

*He claps his hands, and Tom is transported back to the village, the memories of his short battle still in his mind and both wondering and worrying about who will survive.*

[Kully]

*Just before Sly reaches Skiprazor, and before Lord Fear is reached, all three hear a distinct clanking from nearby, and they all freeze. Do they dare risk hanging around?*

[Lord Fear]

"I would like to stick around but I don't like the sound of that, come Hands" said Fear as he began to run away along with Hands leaving Skiprazor.