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Stepping Up (Arena)

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So this is the infamous arena. Now we should finally get to see what the other guys in town really measure up to.

I am looking foward to it. After all, nothing wrong with a good old sparring match, right?

"Would anyone else like to challenge one of Freedom City's newest comers? Beware, he claims to have already had some success fighting heroes within the city itself. Any other challengers for The Reaver?

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Forth steps a tall, clearly elderly gentleman.

"Might do my rusty old bones some good. Let's see if today's young rascals are as good as they think. I, The Exile, will take up that challenge."

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Man, I gotta fight some old guy now?

If he thinks he can hack it, i am not the one to stop him.

A pair of laser blades extended from The Reaver's arms as he started toward his newest adversary. This fight would be like all of his others. Short and Sweet.

So be it, old man. Prepare yourself!

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As his foe begins to move towards him the ancient mage utters a brief stream of harsh, guttural syllables that sound like they shouldn't be able to issue from a human throat. As the Lemurian words hang in the air glowing sickly yellow bands form in the air, wrapping and binding themselves to the elderly one's arms then sinking in beneath his clothes. Inwardly Wilhelm smiles, a bit of theatrics doesn't hurt.

Before the showy effects of his spell have had time to finish the tall fighter has stepped smartly forward and launched a quick strike against the fully one foot shorter foe striking squarely against the youngster's chest.

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Ahh! Jack screamed, as he was sent flying backwards.

Sensors detect massive impact. Sensors resetting vital systems.

*CLANGK* Jack banged into the cage wall at the side of the arena and fell to his feet, managing to stumble just a few steps foaward. But he can do nothing else. He had to wait for his suit to reset after such a massive blow. It seems he would be alright. The Reaver had protected him, just as it always did. but there was nothing else he could do. Jack glanced up across the arena...

Oh this ain't good... Jack said to himself as he looked up at the old man stalking towards him. What IS he?

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Might as well press my advantage

Again the white-haired mage spews forth a quick stream of torturous syllables, and this time he raises his right fist high, then slams it down towards the floor. He's nowhere near enough to hit his young foe with it, but as the gloved fist begins its descent the air above the Reaver seems to ripple and distort, a distortion that races down as the mages hand does and slams right into the armoured figure.

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Once the fist made contact, everything went black for a second. Then the lights flickered back on as The Reaver Suit restart both itself and Jack.

What are you doing?! Get up! Go! Go!!! GO!!!

Jack sprang into action. Not even thinking, He lept up off the floor, covered the distance between himself and his target, and lunged with his energy blades.

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Hmm, seems he heals near instantaneously from my strikes. Perhaps I need to try something different.

The blades eat through the black coat in a flash but as they withdraw the skin is merely reddened without actual injury or bruising. In any case the eldery combatant takes a step backwards, realizing that his foe is obviously a potential danger.

"I'm actually a bit impressed, and I would like a chance to chat later. But for now I'm afraid I'm going to have to trump you." Another quick stream of syllables follow, these a stark contrast to the previous in being seemingly taken from a celestial chorus rather than the speech of abyssal creatures. For a brief moment every light source in the flares, but strangely enough without harming anyone's eyes. As this happens a sword with a blade seemingly composed entirely of shimmering white light forms in the mage's right hand.

"Blade of Judgement" says the tall one as he whips the blade seemingly straight through his armoured foe.

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After his opponent failed to be affected by his weapons, The Reaver was annoyed.

Damnit! That should have worked!

After his opponent summoned a shining sword in his hand, Jack was awed.

Oh crap...

After his opponent's blade fell, two were horrified.

The Reaver flew backwards and once again banged up against the bars of the cage with a *CLANGK*

I'd love to chat, actually Jack said through clenched teeth. But first, we finish this. And he managed a wry smile through the pain.

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The Reaver could do nothing but scream in pain. The blow which seemed to pass right through him, set his brain on fire and slammed him back up against the cage bars one more time.

Panting the reaver looked up at his foe, for the pain in his brain left him with nothing else to do. You really enjoy this, don't you.

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"Not particularly, at least not in that manner. You have proven most tenacious when confronted by just damage, but I doubt you're as slippery as you're tough." Another burst of syllables, these being like the cracking of massive sheets of ice. The brilliant sword evaporates and instead the mage's gloves seem coated with frost.

"Arctic Grasp" once again the elderly one identified his attack just before slapping down his hands upon the youth's shoulders.

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As the old man's hand fell upon his shoulders, Jack could feel his suit freezing up...

Alert! Systems Malfunction! Minimum core temperature exceeded! System shut down imminent...

No! What's happing?! NO!

As the ice crept up over his suit and began to encase him Jack struggled... but there was nothing he could do. Finally, he passed out from the cold.

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