Arena Beta

Standing within the center of the bubble, towering above the majority of those that passed by him, Kuan observed the unloading of a newly arrived shuttle. The masses would come out soon, and crowd into the underground colonies where they were to make their homes. That, or they would simply be returning to their homes after some trip. He chuckled lightly as he came to the realization that he was in fact a part of that number. Accept he was waiting for a ship to arrive that could bring him back home. Either way, he was much like the travelers arriving at the colony, just wanting to get back home. Again, he chuckled, sounding a little more sinister with this one, though not by intent.

I’ll be back soon. And then, we can be happy again.

Figuring that it was best to wait within the colony, Kuan leaned over, retrieving a hiking staff from its resting place upon the ground, wiping it clean of the dust and dirt that had collected upon it. As he walked away towards the colony tunnel, he noticed that everyone, at some point, looked upon him with inquisitive scowls of disapproval. This was expected from the moment he had arrived. These people hadn’t always seen a man wearing such a ragtag assortment of robes. Nor had they ever seen a man of Kuan’s height, and appearance, so it seemed. It also became apparent to him that not everyone, in fact, no one, was likely to have seen a man with a cloud of necromantic energy floating around his body.

He chuckled a third time, this one more of a hearty, booming laugh than a mere chuckle, the sound of which caused several men to jump in shock. He had had this mass of energy around him for so long that he forgot that it was even there most of the time. It had become as much a part of his body as his arms, legs, or head were, and operated as easily as any of the three. Yet Soul’s Veil was no simplistic device. Even he had only just began to scratch the surface of its capabilities, and had determined that he was far off from mastering its use. Were he able to give it to another, odds were that they would take several years just to learn how to get it to move, let alone perform the other functions it had.

“None of these people would really understand, would they?”

 

((A lesson to take heed in, generally, battles are made more interesting if there is a good build up to them. I.E. not having the pre-arranged nature of the battle carry over from OOC to IC)).

Look at me! Thinking that someone could possibly answer my question. How futile.

Being that he was in a mood that had made him far more apt to laugh at his own follies, he laughed yet another time. This laugh was of a wackier nature, sounding like a sort of clown, or gesture, cackling at his own jokes, although no one around him felt them funny, or well timed. He supposed that he was starting to look a bit insane, seeing as he was both talking to himself, and breaking into a mild hysteria at his own thoughts. But when he realized how mad he must have felt, he felt he merely laughed all the harder. For some thirty seconds, he found himself unable to draw in a legitimate breath, as he calmed his humorous, self-loathing thoughts, and snuffed out the laughter. Now, he simply showed a creeping, discomforting grin, and a spark of madness in his orange eyes as he placed his foot forward to continue along to the tunnel.

Kuan wheeled around, swinging his forward foot around in front of him, returning it to a planted, standing position. He had turned around just in time to find himself on the opposite end of a fire based spell, forged from the blade of a younger man, not much older than himself, having a light brown hair, as long as, but neater than his own. Raising his staff into the air, he muttered an incoherent set of words, which in themselves held no meaning, nor use other than for the sake of showing off. At the beckoning cry of his soul, the space before him split open into a dimensional tear, pierced through the paper-thin barrier between life and death. From this tear, a band of ten wispy spirits, devoid of physical matter, charged out, bearing down upon his attacker from several sides. Each of these spirits would be able to tear his soul apart from the inside out, if it were desired that they do so. It was also into this tear that the fire would enter, lost to a realm in which it held very little use.

"What good is it to you, to be attacking a mere wanderer such as myself?"

 

This one just won’t give up. One would think that I had done something to offend him at some point in time. I suppose I must ask him.

The horrifying, scraping sound of ten voices of the summoned spirits screeched through the air within the dome like the sound of metal scraping against metal. The attention of several nearby onlookers was shifted towards the two combatants, nervously spectating the unfolding events. Blocked from their target by a shield forged of flames bearing a purely spiritual energy upon them, they stopped dead in their tracks, burning upon the very touch of the fires. Unable to die a second time, and unable to be truly destroyed again, they dispersed in wisps of dark smoke, traversing through the spiritual barrier through which they had come from. Their howls of pain carried on through their realm, still echoing within the dome. The portal through to the dead realm closed shut behind them, leaving Kuan with a clear sight to his fire-wielding foe. Already, he was preparing another assault upon the young necromancer.

Fool. Such brashness.

A new fire-based attack was erupting upon him, but he had already forged his defense. The fire was the result of a spiritual, soul based power, which connected this warrior to the elemental prowess. That was the only explanation for how his spirits would have been able to succumb to the previous barrier employed in his defense. This given, the fire will have been embedded with the very life force of the spell caster, the essence of his very soul. Thus, the means of bringing the battle to a viable conclusion was to strip him of the use of such an essence. And Kuan had the means by which such a feat could be performed. Dead Energy, the contrasting force to Life Force, and the soul. This energy exerted itself unto the physical plane in the form of a dark shaded, dome shaped barrier around Kuan. Upon contact, the blast of fire was chewed away. While left with an impressive series of burns, and scars from the sheer heat of the blast, Kuan was otherwise left unharmed.

“I don’t understand this. You attacked me, yet there was no provocation on my part. What is it that you want from me?”

 

Hehehe… He’s going to make this way too easy for me now, announcing the workings of his powers.

The feel of cold metal wrapping around his torso forced its presence upon Kuan’s body, each nerve upon him feeling that his soul would soon join the spirits, which he had long been summoning. Or at least, that’s what he would have felt, were it so simply as that. He was coiled with the serpent-like blade-whip crossover of the fire mage, his arms bound together, rendering the use of his staff for any purpose negated. His foe needed only to pull at his chain, and he would be downed, unable to move, or act. What was more, he would be out cold, and likely to die of blood loss before any further move could be made on his part. And to top off his situation, the hints of magical works were afoot. He was to be confronted with fire, which would burn him to ash, if nothing could be done.

But the pyromancer had left himself within his own set of dire straights. Kuan’s barrier of Dead Energy had not yet dispersed, and was thus, still readily available for one last move. In order for his former method to work, he had to be gripping his weapon. If he were to drop it, Kuan would be able to escape from the chain that bound him to his spot. In theory, he could pulse his Dead Energy through the length of the chain. If it made contact with the fire mage, his magical energy supply would be cut off, cutting off his ability to create fire. Otherwise, he would release his chain to avoid the energy making contact in the effort to salvage his magic. But that was far from the only method. One other, more dramatic means of escape existed, and it was one that could leave his opponent shaken to the core.

It’s risky business, but let’s give it a try. Soul transfusion seems to be the only real way out.

“I’d rather not see myself dead at the hands of a foe,” he said aloud, staring down Ben in all seriousness, before breaking out into hysteria.

Bearing a set of vampire-like teeth in a near psychotic grin, which spread across the entire width of his face, he let out another demented chuckle. The purple-black cloud of necromantic energy amassed around his person sprung to life, jumping up beyond his waist, below which it commonly sat. A lone tentacle form stretched out in front of him, and forced itself down through his mouth, weaving through his entire body. The physicality of his existence faded away, his body falling into the hands of death, as his own soul was extracted from his body, leaving it a hollowed shell of what once held the make-up of his being. His target, a man of equal, if not greater physical wellness than himself, with slick black hair, and a handsome face, clad in a military styled, skin-tight jumpsuit, stood not far from where Kuan’s now limped body.

He was the perfect host in which to house a second soul, namely, the soul of Kuan. He was unsuspecting of what was happening before him, and horrified at the sight of the scene unfolding. Mentally, he would be unable to fend off control by the necromancer.

Kuan’s soul, now externalized, and shaped into the ghastly form of his physical body, behind which it was now formed, for the sake of protection. The visage smiled again, this time looking at the man who was to be his target. Then, with no trace left of it, the ghost, and Soul’s Veil dissipated, vanishing from the sight of the living, passing on into the realm of the dead, and the barrier of Dead Energy faded away. He would give this jump a bit of time, if nothing else, to see the reaction of his attacker.