Choose your destiny! Flawless victory! [Inevitable Tournament Arc]

[meat_mooks]

No sooner did the Obs Deck descend to Arena Planet LXIII, and the crew allowed to disembark, than they were met by a veritable cloud swarm of cameras. Sleek, elegant things that might have been living, might have been machines, maybe were even magical... but were definitely nuisances as the swooped around to capture video of the crew at all conceivable angles, close up and far away. Their every move from this point on would be on camera.

In front of a small crowd of retainers stood what appeared to be a great circular orb whose only distinguishing features were a nose, and what appeared to be the most overblown mustache ever, which actually appeared to be supporting that two-foot-diameter orb at shoulder height to a tall man. Then the orb took a couple of steps forward,revealing that no, those were actually just really, really hairy legs. A seam cracked open on the creature, and in a voice loud enough to echo across the broad open plains without any need for amplification, it bellowed, "AND NOW! STRAIGHT FROM THE TRANSMIGRATION NINE VESSEL! OUR NEWEST COMPETITORS! FRESH TO THE STAGE OF BATTLE, BUT NO STRANGERS TO WAR--"

It went on like this for some time.

Under cover of this introduction, a small man that to all appearances seemed to be the love child of Richard Nixon and a particularly aggressive Furby stepped forward, and in a bored businesslike tone recited, "Welcome to the tournament. There will be one battle per day. The arena in which you battle will be determined by random draw. Our medical crew will perform all healing necessary and ensure no deaths so feel free to not hold back. Please refrain from accepting any bribes or favors from on-planet spectators--"

"--ARE YOU READY?!" the orb bellowed even louder than before, completely swamping the smaller man's recitation. "THEN STEP THIS WAY!"

And so saying, the orb and its procession began a clearly well-choreographed procession towards a large, medieval-looking fortress that hung dramatically just on the edge of clear vision. (Conveniently, this procession passed several large advertisements.)

Comments

Re: Lyle Buckwater vs. Mark

[moltenman]

With Mark knowing there was a very real chance that he or his opponent could easily fall off left him a bit wary. He had already removed his jacket, showing the bright red meatsuit which shined brightly in the temple.

"You ready for this?" He called out to his opponent.

[meat_mooks]

The halfing smiled and offered a cheerful wave, though the dread barghast beside him growled fiercely, its hackles raised and its body thrumming with the need to attack.

"Quite ready, sir," Lyle said politely.

[moltenman]

"Let's go then."

Mark didn't waste any time as he focused and his skin, hair, and entire body was encased in a layer of lava-indenced heat. Concentrating not to make this battle be too unbearable for those without protection he charged at Lyle, attempting to make this quick and painless.

[meat_mooks]

The barghest leaped forward to interpose itself between Mark and its master, growling words in a magic tongue as it did. Despair suddenly washed over the battlefield as the spell attempted to seize Mark's mind and plunge it into the depths of bitter depression.

The halfling, meanwhile, spoke words of magic of his own, then gesture powerfully with both short arms at a spot to either side of Mark. From the depths of an infernal dimension, a pair of massive tigers, so mighty as to make sabretooths look like Turkish Vans, burst into being, their bodies awash with hellish energy and the scent of brimstone. As one, they charged, aiming to surround Mark and shred him with vicious attacks from their keen claws.

[moltenman]

'This was not good' seemed to be the understatement of the year. Magic was something he still didn't get used to, and so Molten Man was caught off guard when he felt a wave of feeling sadness in his head and then two large tigers appeared from out of nowhere. He was pretty sure that the tigers could not bleed him out to penetrate his skin but... The fight was one against four. Pulling out a lava ball in each hand seemingly out of nowhere and throwing them with almost pitch-perfect accuracy towards one tiger and the braghast as he backed up a little bit.

[meat_mooks]

The two balls splashed over the tiger and the barghest, leaving horrific burns to be sure -- but not as horrific as they perhaps SHOULD have been. Some of the damage was warded away by their demonic nature, and so too did their lashing claws penetrate further through his heat shielding than they should have.

In the background, Lyle's voice rose in a triumphant chant again. Again, the odds just grew dramatically worse -- a half-dozen giant scorpions, similarly imbued with an infernal nature, appeared behind the cluster to seal off Mark's retreat. Venom dripped wickedly from their stingers as they advanced.

[moltenman]

How is this guy doing this? There is no way those things should be able to walk, much less fight! And then there's those scorpions... If I can get this kid to shut up I might have a chance.

Molten Man was visibly angry on the surface, and a little scared but he didn't show it on his human-mutated features. Realizing that his lava balls might not do the trick, he had one chance left: his enhanced strength. He knew it was a gamble, but he is... was a betting man. It was his only chance. If he turned his back to the giant scorpions he could get seriously poisoned so he ran towards the nearest one and tried to uproot the scorpion but pulling the tail via the non-bladed portion.

[meat_mooks]

The swarm of creatures followed him, continuing to press their vicious attack against him, though they were doing damage to themselves with every blow they struck. The scorpions, though, had no real resistance to this sort of violence -- he easily seized the one he aimed for, and at the sustained touch of his lava armor on its tail it began to thrash as its exoskeleton blackened.

[moltenman]

Pleasantly surprised that his last real shot at winning this fight was actually working, he tried to dig deep and repeat the process. Giving all he had, he tried to throw the weakened scorpion towards the swarm.

[meat_mooks]

The scorpion smashed into its comrades like a bowling ball taking out pins. That might not have proven fatal to the scorpions, except that four of them went flying off the edge of the arena, where presumably they would be no further threat.

However, that didn't mean he was safe! One of the tigers had backed up as he moved; now it charged full-speed, adding its momentum to its strength to punch through the molten armor. The blow would cost it, but it was only a summoned creature; no permanent harm would come to it.