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RPG Memoria: Guy VS. Echo


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[FONT="parchment"][SIZE="10"]Guy vs. Echo

[FONT="Palatino Linotype"][I]The fighting had gone on for what seemed like an eternity.

Blade had met blade, axe had met lance, whip had met fists, and yet the warriors persisted in striking at one another, until finally, only 8 remained. Eyes bright with bloodlust and clothing stained in blood, they resembled demons in their relentless combat. One more combatant made no difference to them; not one, not two, not a hundred. They would fight and fight until their feet bled and their hands came apart. But that couldn?t be allowed quite yet. Before they could take to eliminating one another, a lone figure mounted the high wall at the far end of the battle arena and bellowed.

[B]?Enough!?[/B] As his voice washed over the arena, time seemed to become suspended. The warriors halted exactly where they were, weapons in mid swing, bodies pivoted for the most powerful attacks. If it wasn?t for the flickering of their eyes over to the new figure, one would have thought them turned to stone. The figure glowed brightly for a moment where he stood, then appeared in front of the fighters. Though it was obvious that this silver haired man had been the one to bring them here, they kept their weapons leveled nonetheless, should it prove to be a trap. The figure remained emotionless as he spoke.

[B]?Congratulations on outlasting your competition. Having bested your first task, and proved your merit, you all ?advance? to the second round. Do not be deceived; though you found Nye any trouble on this barren arena with its week and foolish warriors, you are now faced with dangerous battlefields and warriors whose lust for battle will rival your own. You will not be allowed to rest, to eat, to drink. You must fight and win, as quickly as you can. And should one of you prove capable, you will fight me. If you truly desire your memories back you will not lose.?[/B] The warriors all absorbed his words and nodded their heads in acknowledgment. The Silver haired man smirked and turned around.

[B]?Then go.?[/B] A brilliant light enveloped every competitor, including the silver hair man, and soon, the vast wasteland was devoid of life. [/I]


The ocean. Oceans are known for their beauty, their serenity, their Tranquility. Many regard the ocean as place they can retreat to when life is too much, when times are hard. This ocean, however, is no paradise; it offers only danger to any that enter its domain. As far as they eye can see the foul, black water stretches out and thrashes violently. No sea-life can be seen from above, and many take that as a blessing. Only the foulest, most violent creatures live beneath this poisonous sea, and only a fool would attempt to brave these creatures.

Life above the water is no less dangerous. Strewn across the water are thousands upon thousands of pirate ships, rumored to remain here from some great oceanic battle that occurred years ago. Planks still connect the decaying and ominous looking boats; however, It?s not only planks of wood that be remaining on this ship. After years of being showered with grotesque liquids, the bones of the fallen seamen have become reanimated, and continue their fruitless fight.

Unfortunately for Guy and Echo, as they are dropped down onto ships miles and miles apart, they are dropped into this never ending battle. Though he is not apparent, the silver haired man?s voice can be heard over the sound of steel crashing against steel.

[B]?Warriors! Your task is at hand. Find the other competitor and defeat him, through whatever means you find suitable. Begin!?[/B][/FONT]

[B]OOC:[/B] Have at it, DeLarge and Muuh Puar. The boats barely be keeping together, and swashbuckling skeletons abound. Ye have three posts each. May victory go to the master of the sea![/SIZE][/CENTER]
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[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]The stench of sea salt and rotting wood filled Echo's nostrils as he took in the scene in front of him, and the harsh sound of birds squawking above him assaulted his ears.

[B]"Someone seriously needs to hang out some air fresheners. This place could do with a scent of pine," [/B]he said to himself, voicing every thought he had out loud. The conglomeration of creaking, rotten wooden hulls stretched out for miles in every direction, and he could only assume that his opponent had been dropped at the other end.

[B]"Guess I'd better get going," [/B]he said, taking a deep breath and envisioning the probabilities of his situation. Orange trails snaked out across the battlefield, highlighting each of his options, and he studied each one before choosing one which, while it was not a straight-line journey, seemed the most safe.

[B]"I can get the job done quick, or I can get the job done right," [/B]he said with a smile, before heading off at slightly under sprint pace, a speed that he could keep up for some distance.

He sped along the length of the mast he had been dropped off at the top of, keeping his footsteps light so he didn't break anything, and leapt off the end, turning in a perfect mid-air somersault before landing, crouched, on the deck of a ship that appeared to have crashed into the one he had appeared on. He slid backwards a little on the slick, damp wood, but found his grip and stopped himself as quickly as he could.

He got to his feet and ran towards the prow of the ship, dropping down and grabbing onto the edge of the deck, shimmying himself down onto what appeared to be a series of planks leading across the water. The orange trail before him led across the first two, then jumped over onto a different series of planks adjacent to the one he was on. He shrugged and followed the trail, leaping with incredible grace over to the adjacent planks.

As he looked back, one of the seagulls that had been circling overhead fluttered down and landed on the other walkway. As the bird's weight touched down, the planks cracked and gave way, dropping the angry bird into the water momentarily before it took flight once again.

[B]"Close one," [/B]he muttered, an astounded look crossing his face briefly, and he began edging his way along the walkway he was now standing on.

Frustratingly, it took several minutes for Echo to move a few feet forward, but as he shuffled along, he finally reached a more sturdy-looking section of hull, which he leapt onto with ease.

He took a moment to wipe the perspiration off his brow with the back of his glove, and grabbed the water bottle from the back of his belt and took a swig, refreshing himself.

Clipping the water bottle back on, he stopped and took a few deep breaths, listening to the constant creaking and swaying of the wreckage. Then he heard a new sound, one which seemed entirely unfamiliar to him. Something clacking, grinding, like ceramic or highly polished hardwood. He opened his eyes and turned around to face whatever it was that was making the sound.

[B]"Holy shit," [/B]he exclaimed, genuinely surprised by the sight that confronted him.


Living, moving, armed skeletons.

They hauled themselves out of the water and up onto the deck that Echo stood upon, dozens of eery, bleached-white skeletons, their bones hung with seaweed and rotten wood.

[B]"No offence," [/B]Echo smirked, [B]"But you guys [I]stink[/I]. Might want to think about investing in some deodorant in future."

[/B]The undead creatures turned to face him, their jaws opening and closing, but no sound emerging from them. Their voiceboxes, along with their muscles, their skin and their organs, had long since rotted, like the ships they now stood upon.

Their weapons, however, had not.

They rushed at Echo, rusty swords, knives and harpoons flailing on the ends of their arms, and Echo turned to run across the wreckage.

But, as he turned, more of them dragged themselves out of the ocean to block his exit.

[B]"You guys are no fun," [/B]he said, reaching onto his back and withdrawing one of his swords, [B]"So I guess I'll have to play you at your own game!"

[/B]He leapt at the first rank of skeletons, aiming to take out enough of them that he could escape and face his real opponent. Knocking many of them over, he forced the rest to move backwards, towards the edge of the platform they currently stood on. As they did, he felt a shifting in balance, and noticed that the platform was beginning to tilt.

He smiled, and watched as an orange trail lazily flitted along behind him, over the tops of the skeletons that had been blocking his escape and off the edge of the platform.

[B]"That's the problem with you skeletons," [/B]he said, not quite believing he was saying these words even as they escaped from his lips, [B]"No brains." [/B]He winked at the "leader" of the group, and leapt along the trail, slamming his foot into the spine of the skeleton at the back of the group, forcing them all down to one end of the platform.

He adjusted his balance, and ran up the tilting platform as it raised to an angle of forty-five degrees, and leapt off the top, watching the hordes of undead beasts slide back into the ocean as he flipped over.

Landing on the next platform a little awkwardly, he lost balance and fell onto his front, sliding along the wet, dirty wood. He groaned, and hauled himself to his feet.

[B]"Maybe this probability thing isn't quite as reliable as I'd thought," [/B]he said, twisting his neck until he heard a resounding crack. As he rubbed the sides of his neck, he heard a commotion up on one of the higher parts of wreckage that towered above him.

Jogging along to the bottom of a ship that was in much better condition than the others he had been on, this one being nearly a complete hull, he found a series of raised planks that must have been used as a ladder of sorts. He grabbed on, and hauled himself up onto the deck, where he was greeted with a rather odd sight.

A dark-skinned man, his black hair falling around his face in dreadlocks, was flailing a battered old katana sword at an advancing group of skeletons that had somehow clambered up onto the deck of this ship.

[B]"You guys are crazy!" [/B]he shouted, a loud, barking laugh following his words as he attacked the skeletons over and over again.

[B]"You're telling me," [/B]said Echo, leaping up onto the deck and drawing both of his swords to face the man who must be his opponent. At least, he was the only person for miles around who actually had skin.

The black man swivelled his head to look at Echo briefly, then launched one final, pummeling attack which knocked the majority of the skeletons off the edge of the deck, and the rest into bony heaps at the far end of the ship. Then he turned his whole body to face Echo, his katana glinting. The first drops of rain fell from the dark, leaden sky, signalling the beginning of a mighty storm, and the man simply said:

[B]"Son of a bitch!" [/B]Then he raised his weapon and charged at Echo...
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