It has to be true

What is Phelix doing here? He is literally just a boy.

He had not originally placed in the Olympics, so being called to fight was surprising and a bit horrifying. And not something he was the least bit prepared to actually do. He looked up at Saran'zol and was suddenly overwhelmingly aware of how squishy, soft, and killable his body was. He felt like a fish out of water. Which is what he was, literally.

He calls upon his magicka but it freezes and scatters uselessly. All he can do is focus on trying not to be splatted- by Saran'zol or the other combatants.

I'm counting on you
To be my wings and my eyes

THE CHAMPION,
UNBOUND

saran'zol

the unbound champion

199/300

▼BURNING ▼INFESTED

The Unbound Champion seethed as the gembound flew into action, taking their blows one after another. The red sparks jumped from plate to plate, as Azrael opened wounds on its arms, as Relic ripped open the skin of his leg, as the space above his head began to compress, dragging him backwards where many of his horns began to grind, as the handle of his staff burst into fire and seared his hands black, and as the corrupted spores began to pour into his wounds...

But HE COULD NOT BE HELD BACK. As if the wounds he suffered gave him no pain, the valkhound roared and literally leaped into battle, landing in front of Fahl. Despite the plasma literally burning through the scales of his palms, he did not let go of the weapon, instead lashing forward with one of the blades to carve deep into the caster. He reared and whirled around, surprisingly swift and agile for his size, the other blade slicing down towards Audland, but dirt suddenly cast into his eye made his hiss and flinch. With a brief moment of visual impairment, the blade only bounced off the stone floor instead of slicing through a fellow valkhound's flesh.

Luckily for Saran'zol, however, the odd, seemingly useless arm hanging at his side was grasping seemingly randomly and landed on Audland in the blade's place. It reached forward, an odd vent in the palm opening and shining straight towards Audland, suddenly blinding right in his face.

Rubbing the dirt out of his eyes, Saran'zol roared again, and a wave of force ripped out of him, unevenly rippling towards a number of the fighters surrounding him, red sparks bouncing through the air as the wave of magic swept outwards. Fahl and Audland, both right next to him, were right in danger of getting hit by it, as was Shrike nearby, and Azrael and Shrike.

RELIC 20/20	AZRAEL 20/20	SHRIKE 20/20
FAHL 20/20	GAHERIS 20/20	PHELIX 20/20
BAUXITE T-ONE 20/20	NIDHOGG 20/20	AUDLAND 20/20

[ ACTION LOG ]

> Saran'zol's blade cuts towards Fahl! Failure to dodge will inflict 16 points of damage.
> The second blade misses Audland!
> Audland has been blinded! Any targeted attack next turn will miss.
> Saran'zol has cast Vaccuum! Failure to dodge will inflict 8 points of damage on Shrike, Fahl, Audland, Azrael, and Phelix


> Audland infests Saran'zol with deviant spores!
> Azrael hits Saran'zol with a flurry of attacks!
> Gaheris damages Saran'zol with an event horizon!
> Relic damages Saran'zol's leg!
> Fahl sets the staff on fire, burning Saran'zol!
> Nidhogg successfully causes one of Saran'zol's attacks to miss!
> Shrike damages Saran'zol with a body slam!
> Saran'zol, the Unbound Champion has appeared!

@Relic (Gaheris, Bauxite T-One) @Nidhogg (Shrike) @Fahl @Azrael @Phelix @Audland

Shrike didn't actually know what Saran'zol was doing next. She just knew from her brief experience in combat thus far that she was not really built for tangling with things her size or larger. Hit-and-run was the way.

She'd hit. Then it was time to run.

No sooner had she impacted him than she was shoving off, feet to his armor, flinging herself away and into the air again with a beating of wings. When the magic exploded outward, she was already making distance as best she could--hopefully far enough away as she rose up and turned, scouring the little battlefield while deciding her next move.

And, man, this battle was already brutal. Her hackles went up, despite the exhilaration of bloodlust. She'd have to be careful, here.

He was at range, safely at a distance.

Of course, that was a bit of a problem since he couldn't bite Saran'zol from a distance. And Nidhogg didn't use much magic, in general. But his blood was up. He wanted in, and he couldn't get close, so he did the stupid thing: while scurrying around the edge of the battle, he opened his mouth and concentrated.

At the very least, it didn't backfire and blow his face off. But the toxic green glow that swelled before the throat-eye died out, sputtering away, before anything actually happened.

With an impotent hiss, he clapped his jaws shut and went back to what he did best: running around in a seemingly random direction.

Despite their best (and truly it looked like their best, for most of them) efforts, the beast was still not just breathing, but standing. And soon, it began to start swinging too.

Seeing the double-ended blade-staff swinging around, effectively extending the armspan-slash-combat range of the already large valkhound, was bringing about a mixture of hypnotic satisfaction and rage-inspiring jealousy that Audland had not experienced before. It was giving him ideas—while the sight lasted. He had almost been so caught up in the motion of its whirling that he'd gotten himself sliced up on it. By all means he would have had Saran'zol not whiffed (thank the Creator).

The sudden blinding-beam hand cannon definitely caught Audland completely off guard, though. He let out an agonized hiss, reaching his hands to his eyes and recoiling. The hand coverage was in part to test the severity of the blindness. Audland would find that indeed, light or dark, his vision had been temporarily stolen away. Best thing he could do was wait like a pretty sitting duck and hope nothing else happe...n...ed....

Why does he hear running? Flying? Motion away from some area. And wind whipping past him in the opposite direction.

Then he felt the tug, first at his fur. Oh no. He couldn't flipping see it.

Assuming that the pull direction was bad and Audland didn't want to go there, he would have to blindly "swim upstream", so to speak. Given that he'd gotten this far thanks in part to his great agility, this should be no trouble, right?

Ahaha. Wrong.

Forgive a blind man for failing to see the ground he was running on, tripping, falling, and then getting blasted back to last Wednesday. Lord, it hurt—the pressure of the vacuum made Audland's body feel like it was being crushed down to fill the space, and his lungs burned life hellfire—but Audland wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing anything other than his awful, snarling grimace about it.

It has to be true

The chaos only intensifies, with Phelix able to do little else than cower and pray not to be squished or blown asunder by the flurry of combat and spells. Everyone else here proves to be far, far more adept at combat than he is, and he has to wonder why he was called upon for this task at all.

And why had he even agreed to this? Combat wasn't something Phelix had particular interest or skill in, the most he ever did was defend himself from the occasional lesser who mistook him as a easy meal. Why didn't he just tell Tectus no? [Well, Tectus was incredibly intimidating, and apparently an 'Overseer,' which seemed really important] But there had to be DOZENS of gembound out there better suited to this than he was.

Maybe it'd be better to ruminate on this when he WASN'T in incredible danger.

A wave of sparking red energy and force is sent rippling across the arena. Phelix is far too small and ungangly on land to hope of dodging out of the way. His magic reaches outward desperately, grabbing and condensing the water vapor into a icy shield just in time to protect him from the shockwave.

I'm counting on you
To be my wings and my eyes

Oh, smoldering shit.

He'd really overestimated the advantage that distance could afford him. Not once in his quick strategizing had Fahl accounted for the possibility this Saran'zol could simply close the gap in a single rage-fueled bound. No sooner than he could indulge in a measure of satisfaction, tempered by mild disappointment, that his magic had clearly taken hold of the staff, the searing heat which clung to its handle grew threateningly closer to his scales than he'd ever anticipated.

Plasma's white intensity gleamed off the staff's untouched blades as one of them whisked through the air. If his run continued along its current course, the wicked edge would surely find little resistance as it slashed through scales completely bleached by sudden terror. In an eye's blink, Saran'zol wouldn't have to exert too much effort in his lash out at the iguana; his much smaller opponent could end up spearing himself on the end of his staff, an easy defeat in the midst of battle.

His heart hammered. Each beat of it inched the blade nearer and nearer. He could hear his breath, heavy and labored, and the scrabble of his claws while back legs desperately tried to brake before meeting a brutal and bloody end. His body was failing him, so dedicated had he been to hurtling around the arena. Once more all hope rested in his greatest of strengths: magic would have to wrest him free from the awful situation he'd plunged into.

Operating on pure instinct, Fahl reached out for a spell that granted him a better form of retreat than his current pitiful attempt. Mind frenzied by fear, he fumbled for instead of seized that which would become his salvation. Shafts of light, feathery soft, spilled out from shoulder blades in a rough approximation of wings. So insubstantial and shimmering were they that their utility could be scarcely believed until a downward flap of them pushed their owner backward.

"Fuck," he stammered, jaw quavering, as the blade missed. "Son of a fried and fuckfaced fish."

The wings kept flapping, frantic in pace, as the next devastating attack radiated out from Saran'zol. Invisible though it was, gathering dust tipped Fahl off to it, and experience provided a strong idea of what this force might be. He braced himself for the pain of pulverized bones, even while his magic continued to drag him away. For the sake of Pisces, his beloved native Pisces, may his power allow him to just manage to cross the threshold into momentary safety.

Who was he kidding? He was probably screwed.

The flesh of the Unbound Champion ripped away, and the meat burned with electricity in her mouth. Relic spat it out, as if afraid his blood alone would electrocute her.

The first of his attacks was intercepted by Nidhogg, the second deftly avoided by a well-timed spell, the third... She'd cleared the area of effect herself, paws kicking up dust in her wake. But others were still in the line of fire, and she noted how small some of her fellow competitors were.

That was hardly fair. She didn't see any of the other, bigger fighters closing the gap either. Rather than dive in for another opportunity to attack, she sprinted to intercept Fahl before the shock wave reached him.

It was an incredibly close call. She grabbed the iguana (gently) in her jaws, wrapping them around as much of his torso as they could fit to ensure she didn't accidentally break anything, the process stealing precious seconds as the attack began to surge forward.

Relic sped up again, fighting to regain momentum. It was enough so that the spell skimmed past, but even a glancing hit was enough to send her into an involuntary front-flip, head and neck colliding heavily into the ground in a series of noisy clanking. She tried her best to avoid biting down harder on Fahl, but was forced to let him go early, dropping him back onto the ground with some force. Ow.

She tumbled onto her side, then scrambled to right herself, shaking off the ache of the impact. "You alright?"

@Fahl (tag for interaction)

The Bauxite was, proudly, one of the larger combatants who refused to lift a finger to those less equipped. Skill issue, he would call it, if he had known to say so.

Having been inactive last round and reaping the rewards, he waited until the dust had settled after the spell to break into action, joints moving like liquid, a great bisexual-coloured wave surging toward Saran'zol...

The sharp, hollow claws of his arms jabbed towards the champion's massive body. The paralytic effects of his venom would never work to their fullest extent, but it'd be a painful sting, especially for a flesh wound.

Gaheris had yet to draw Saran'zol's ire, and she exploited this fact. Better the battle end quickly, and to tend to the wounded later, yes?

She'd never tried to maintain the singularity for more than a few seconds, but she pushed her focus and energy into stretching this one's lifespan - she sought to move it closer to the champion's centre of mass, but multi-tasking wasn't a skill she'd developed. The black hole wavered, moving slowly towards its target.

He ended it shortly afterwards, noting that it was closer to him than he'd prefer. There was a puff of dust, and it was gone.