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  1. #1
    Senior Member Romulus's Avatar
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    Battle Areana 4 Round 1....Results

    reposting fights to here......

    Quote Originally Posted by ChaplinGrim
    Give the people what they want, and what the people want could only be the sensless slaughter of the gutter slime that litter this nation for cash and prizes!


    A microphone squealed in ear splitting feedback, as the corpulent man in the ill repaired Comissar uniform blew into it. "Attention...calm yourselves!" he spoke, as of course his words only brought more discord and mayhem as the crowd erupted in catcalls and jeers. "I have an announcement to make! This next arena will prove to be the most bloody..." the crowd roared, "MOST violent!" he raised his hands, his face plastered with a grin, "Arena battle to THIS DATE!" he let the wave of cheers break over him and lowered his head somberly. "Unfortunately, our previous champion, the no longer with us..." The crowd booed and roared in angry protest, and the "Comissar" raised his hands placatingly. "Yes yes, he was rabid, he had to be put down." he chuckled, "But seriously folks. In our humblest appologies, we bring you the biggest one yet! That's right! THIRTY TWO entrants! THIRTY TWO hungry souls going head to head for the title of master of the arenas! And without any further ado...let the Battle Arena IV begin!"

    Chaplain Mulcahy vs Dragon

    Armor gleaming black in the harsh glare of light lancing down on him from above, Chaplain Mulcahy squinted, slowly fitting his skull masked helm atop his head. Dispatches had been received by his commanders, foretelling of a brutal arena, where heroes of the Imperuim had been slaughtered. Among them, two Black Templar brethren and two Cannoness of the Sister Sororitas. He flexed his burnished gold gauntlet, testing the heft of his Crozius, then once again raised his now visored gaze across the arena.

    Upon landing, he was set upon, and thrust into this savage brutality, against his own will. He would be damned if he gave these heretics the satisfaction of falling in battle, in their crude “tournament”. This whole fiasco stank of Khorne. He grunted to himself, unholstering his plasma pistol and checking the charges.

    His opponent waited motionless across from him. Hovering a meter above the arena floor. A Necron Lord. Mulcahy grit his teeth. So they weren’t going to make this easy then? All the better as far as he was concerned! The quicksilver body of the Lord rested upon a destroyer platform, and a massive Warscythe was held in its hands. Its skeletal head was crested with a fin, giving it an almost draconic appearance. Mulcahy shrugged his shoulders, loosening them up. If only his jump pack hadn’t been damaged in his capture. He could use it against this Xenos machine….

    Caught in his own reflections, he did not notice as the Necron Lord surged forward on silent jets of air. It was only the flash of the raising Warscythe that caught his eye at the last moment. “So, no signal? I see how this will be played then!” Mulcahy roared, bringing his Crozius up into a guard and raising his plasma pistol to the hip. Too late.

    The Lord was upon him. Mulcahy lowered his shoulder and spun into the looming Dragon, spewing forth his “Litanies of Hate” with fervent dedication, and righteous fury. He struck out with his Crozius, cursing in frustration as it failed to penetrate the Necron’s hull, and widening his eyes as several of his counterstrikes met nothing but air, the treacherous Lord’s body “phasing” out of existence to thwart his blows.

    Mulcahy blocked a strike of the massive Warscythe, and turned aside another. The Lord flickered, phasing to the side and unleashed a vicious crosscut, opening up a tear along the breastplate of his hallowed black armor. He growled, the armor had parted like water.

    Retreating backwards, he went on the defensive, the constantly flickering Necron causing his attacks to falter, this just causing his anger to rise to unmatched heights. Another stinging strike opened yet another gash along his upper thigh. His blood spattered scarlet upon the arena floor.

    “For the Emperor!” Mulcahy roared, it was now or never. He couldn’t stay on the defensive and hope to survive. Besides, a Chaplain assaults best. It was almost a mantra to him. He delivered a smashing blow to Dragon’s head, causing splinters of metal fragments to spin through the air. “Phase that one Xenos!” he growled. The Dragon simply spun with the force of the blow, burying the length of his Warscythe through the center of Mulcahy’s chest. The Necron’s eyes flared in triumph, and it wrenched the weapon free, watching the Chaplain fall silently to his knees, motionless.

    Turning the Lord raised his Warscythe towards the crowd, and lurched forward with a horrible peal of shredding metal and sparking conduits.

    “Not….dead….yet…you bastard…” Mulcahy snarled raising his Crozius for another swing.

    The Necron phased out, and with a blinding flash of gleaming metal, sheared Mulcahy in two with his Warscythe, nodding in satisfaction as both halves of his opponent fell in different directions, the Crozius still raised in a defiant fist even in death.

    Dragon wins initiative and assaults.
    Mulcahy has higher initiative so goes first.

    Mulcahy: 5 hits-no wounds
    Dragon: 3 hits-1 wound-no save

    Mulcahy: 3 hits/rerolled 3 hits-no wounds
    Dragon: 1 hit-1 wound-no save

    Mulcahy: 3 hits/rerolled 3 hits-1 wound-failed save
    Dragon: 2 hits-1 wound Mulcahy dies-bionics pass, Mulcahy gets up.

    Mulcahy: 1 hit/rerolled 3 hits-1 wound- failed save
    Dragon: 2 hits-1 wound Mulcahy dies-bionics fail, Dragon victor.
    Quote Originally Posted by ChaplinGrimm
    (Good lordness....)

    Ahi’Nay vs Grandmaster Felix

    Chaplain Mulcahy’s body was carried from the arena, but halted before it could reach the vaulting exit doors.

    “I will see to him….” A deep voice intoned, halting the stretcher bearers with its unquestionable sound of authority. They looked up, almost flinching back. Sheathed head to foot in a shining grey suit of Tactical Dreadnaught armor stood Grandmaster Felix of the Grey Knights. His visor was up, and he stared down at the “medics” with steely eyes that brooked no arguments. He motioned with a wave of his elaborate Nemesis Force Pike, its countless purity seals and holy scriptures fluttering with the motion. “Place him with my retinue, after we leave here, he will be honored properly. As a courageous Astartes. I will see that his Chapter receives him, and record of his death.”

    The medics nodded quickly and jumped to do as he said. Paying them no further mind, he looked across to his opponent.

    Ahi’Nay watched the exchange from across the arena, her com gain amped up to listen in. “How…touching….” She sneered, pulling her thigh high leather armored boots, and smoothing the midnight blue loincloth that flapped idly in the air of the arena. Why they bothered with niceties was beyond her. Such a waste. She eyed the massive Astartes in his heavy armor, and clucked to herself. “Such a waste…” she said again, shaking her head. “He would have made such a resilient…slave.” She purred, grinning.

    She wore a helm, the same midnight blue and black as her armor, faced by an intimidating mask, her eyes burning crimson from the helm’s lenses. Her armor was light and supple, forming to her well proportioned body like a second skin. Shadows seemed to crawl about her body, and ripple, as she unsheathed her Punisher. “Ah well...I’ll simply enjoy the pleasures of his death instead.”

    Felix slammed down his helm’s visor, its systems cycling with a hiss of pressurized air. He had heard there would be Chaos here. Daemon princes of great power. So they send him a frail waif of a Xenos? He laughed deeply, his voice booming. “So princess….”

    Ahi’Nay moved like quicksilver, her form but a flickering shadow. Combat drugs pulsed through her body, and the world slowed to a mere crawl. She heard “S……o p…..r….i…n…” before striking like an uncoiling deadly spring, lashing out with a murderous thrust of her punisher. The blade slammed into Felix’s helm, pinning his jaws shut, and spiking his brain. “cess…” he finished.

    The noble Grandmaster twitched violently, skewered on the tip of her Punisher like a butterfly to a table. “You were saying….?” She purred, wrenching the blade free and watching with lusty eyes as he collapsed, boneless, at her leather clad feet. She rested a heeled boot on his helm, then twisted it back and forth on his faceplate. “Such…a waste.” She laughed, spinning, and walked with dangerous grace from the arena.

    Ahi'Nay wins initiative and charges and goes first with highest initiative

    Ahi'Nay: Felix uses Word of the Emperor-Ahi passes LD test and attacks

    Ahi'Nay: Uses combat drugs for +1WS +1 STR, passes test-4 hits-3 wounds-NO SAVES MADE!

    Ahi'Nay wins in the first round with no retaliatory strikes allowed....FLAWLESS victory. Against a Grey Knight no less....scary.
    Quote Originally Posted by ChaplinGrimm
    Dethekus vs Inquisitor Lord Parmenion

    Ahi’Nay exited the arena, walking to the area she would await her next battle. Dethekus, Archon of the Dying Flame watched her approach, and he grinned at her, swinging a leg over his Reaver jetbike, its black hull glistening, and covered in cabalistic midnight runes. “A pity, you did not even play with the human before finishing him.” He drawled, looking her up and down with undisguised lust in his eyes.

    Ahi’Nay narrowed her own, and held her Punisher out, keeping him at distance. “You disgust me Dethekus. I only pray that you’ll be crushed, so I don’t need to hear the pathetic simpering of your voice for the rest of eternity…” she nearly hissed, stalking by him.

    “Soon enough woman!” he laughed, throttling up his jetbike with a thrumming whine.


    The thrumming buzz of his servitor annoyed him. He waved it behind him and stalked from his “cell”, his blessed blade “Incorruptus” held naked in his leather gloved hand. He adjusted the cravat he wore, set with an emerald the size of his eye. His armor was old, and flawlessly clean, elaborate as the man who wore it was ancient. Lord Inquisitor Parmenion’s face was wrinkled with age, his hair balding and iron grey. What was left of his hair was set in a severe widow’s peak, and bound at the back of his head with a clasp of carved gold. A censer hung from his belt, the burning incense trailing him like a watchful spirit. The Ordo Malleus had ordered exterminatus on this holding of corruption. It had taken him years to track it down. It was almost as if the warp itself conspired to keep the place hidden from him. He had fought and destroyed the vile demons of Chaos for well over two hundred years. A lot longer than most of his peers. He swept through the arena door and onto the ceramite flooring of the battlefield proper.

    Squinting his eyes against the glare he heard the roar of the crowd as he entered, and sneered in distaste. He would burn each and every one of them. They were already dead as far as he was concerned. “Come..” he whispered to his servitor, taking up his position within the arena itself.

    Dethekus straddled his Reaver, helmed and geared almost identically to Ahi’Nay, save the Agonizer held out to his side. He laughed across the distance between himself and the old inquisitor. Parmenion’s lip curled in disgust.

    “Laugh all you wish Xenos. I have dealt with your kind before, you will not be the last.”

    Dethekus ****ed his helmed head at the audacity of the weak old human. “Perhaps I shall not play with you before I kill you either…” he hissed, jumping his Reaver forward at breakneck speed.

    Combat drugs flooded his body, “I will even surpass Ahi’Nay in my victory!” he roared, pushing the drugs to the limit, in hopes of outdoing his kinswoman. He felt something inside him tear, and a trickle of blood flowed from his nose. He growled in fury and attacked.

    Parmenion angled his ancient blade, and awaited the rush. *Idiot Xenos depend on their speed too much. I believe I shall teach him a new trick.* he thought to himself, tensing, his servitor thrumming in anticipation. “Do try to keep up..” he arched an eyebrow, giving the skull servitor a look out the side of his eye.

    Parmenion underestimated the speed of the Dark Eldar Archon, and his blade was too slow to block the lightning strikes of Dethekus. Grunting as the blade drew blood, he spun and coiled the chain of his censer to one of the Reaver’s stabilization struts, grinning as it caught and held, sweeping him along the back of the bike. The servitor whirred forward, as Parmenion was snatched into the air behind the jetbike.

    Dethekus turned to attack the inquisitor once again, and widened his eyes. The old man had disappeared! He snapped his helmed gaze left and then right again, trying to pick up sight of the man who until a moment ago, was leaking his life’s blood all over the arena floor.

    Emerald green digital bolts scintillated from the cravat at Parmenion’s throat. The blasts caught the Dark Eldar and glanced harmlessly from the Xenos’ flickering shadowfield.

    Dethekus spun his head around and snarled. “Damn you!” he brought the Agonizer up and fought behind him, infuriated even more as the frail human turned aside each blow with seeming ease.

    “Had enough yet Xenos?” Parmenion taunted, flicking out two one handed thrusts that were again thwarted by the shadowfield. The Reaver roared, spinning through the air, trying to dislodge the tenacious old Inquisitor, but to no avail. Dethekus struck back again, blows ringing from the clashing of their blades, as parry met with thrust, riposte and counter. Dethekus had to grudgingly admit to himself that the human was skilled.

    Parmenion looped the edge of his blade around the guard of Dethekus’ Agonizer, parrying the blade into the rushing wall of the arena just to their side. The Agonizer screamed as it dug into the wall with a shower of sparks, nearly taking Dethekus’ hand with it. It quivered, stuck in the wall and rapidly faded behind them.

    “Now Xenos…you are mine.” Parmenion gloated, getting a better grip on the chain to hoist himself up behind the Archon.

    “Not yet human!” Dethekus snarled, wrenching on his bike’s controls and performing a suicidal loop, forcing Parmenion off the jetbike, his arms burning from the strain. “You are not the only one with tricks!” he made for the Agonizer, jutting from the arena wall, and grinned in grim and murderous glee.

    Parmenion’s eyes widened and he raised a hand up to shield himself, but to no avail. Dethekus pulled up slightly at the last second, and the quivering Agonizer ripped Parmenion in two, his arm and bisected body spinning into the air. Dethekus roared in triumph and laughed, skimming the crowd and raining gore and blood among them, one of Parmenion’s arms still entwined in the chain of his censer.

    Dethekus wins initiative by a LANDSLIDE and goes first attacking first with higher initiative.

    Dethekus: Combat drugs for +1WS +1Att Reroll all misses. Takes a wound from OD.

    Dethekus: 6 hits-2 wounds-no saves made
    Parmenion: Digi weapons on same init as Dethekus hit-0 wounds-0 hits.

    Dethekus: Combat drugs for +1WS +1Att passed-4 hits-2 wounds-2 saves made
    Parmenion: (Digi-1 hit-1 save)-1 hit-0 wounds

    Dethekus: Combat drugs for +1WS +1 Att passed-5 hits-2 wounds-2 saves made
    Parmenion: (Digi-1 hit-1 save)-No hits

    Dethekus: Combat drugs (as before)-4 hits-1 wound-no save Parmenion dies
    Parmenion: (Digi-1 hit-1 save)

    Parmenion was a saving beast, he just couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with his rolls! I chalk it up to the Archon's superior speed. Parm wasn't going out easy as you can see!

    Last edited by Romulus; July 11th, 2006 at 17:12.
    40K: Tyranid, Necron, Space Wolves
    Fantasy: Dark Elves, Lizardmen, Orcs & Goblins, Dwarves

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  3. #2
    Senior Member Romulus's Avatar
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    More fights......and Typo'd on the Title! lol

    Quote Originally Posted by Darkreever
    General Dale Teeal vs Arnec "The Governator" Schwarton

    As Dethekus juked his bike around in a sharp bank to leave the arena, a figure could be made out kneeling next to the remains of Parmenion. General Dale prayed the soul of a fellow man be commended to the emperor's side, as Dethekus pumped energy into his bike to whiz by and scare Dale. However before he could something shiny and metalic flew by so close that Dethekus could feel the coldness of metal against his skin.

    As Dale got up, the servo's in the augmented power fist whirring as he opened and closed his hand. Opposite him hovered a mechanical monster wielding a deadly pulsating scythe, Arnec "The Governator". Such a sight would scare the life from normal men, but Dale sought to either die or find something that would lead to his death.

    Without waiting, Dale ran forward as fast as his legs would allow him to go, but he was no daemon or alien or augmented superhuman. Firing his ornate plasma pistol in his free hand, Dale smacked a blow into Arnec's shoulder plate that made the hovering necron dip down a few feet; just enough to allow Dale to jump up to..

    Leaping into the air, Dale swung out with his powerfist, the crackling energy of the powerfield in the weapon springing to life and tearing into the hull of the lower body of Arnec where it touched but not before Arnec landed a blow of his own into Dale's side. White hot pain forced Dale to black out for a second before the high motion of Arnec trying to dislodge Dale from his sleek body.

    Dale held on as best his augmented arm would allow him to, but Arnec was doing more than thrashing as he swung his scythe around again and cutting into the mid-section of Dales augmatic arm. The weapon phased right through the arm, and svered it completely as the powerfield died away and Dale began to fall to the ground; but not before coming arund with his other free hand, plasma pistol held firmly, and fired as many shots as he could before hitting the ground. Shot after shot punched into Arnec's body, melting systems and blowing away plating before one shot blew out the anti-grave unit that kept the lower body afloat and sent Arnec spinning to the ground with a crunch of metal.

    Despite having lost his augmatic, powerfist arm, Dale got up as though nothing had happened and fired one last shot into Arnec's damaged body; landing the ball of blue-white energy onto the necrons upper body and engulfing exposed components to the deadly effects of the plasma. Looking at the body of the necron lord, Dale grabbed the scythe from its hand; a;ready the green energy pulsating from it was dieing. Before the energy left completely, Dale cut away Arnecs arm before turning to leave. If anything the arm could be used as spare parts to build him another power-fist augmatic.

    Dale gets first action
    Dale shoots, hits, wounds, Arnec saves
    Dale charges and goes last because of the powerfist
    Arnec- one hit, one wound, warscythe allows no save
    Dale- four hit, three wound, one failed
    Arnec- one hit, one wound, warscythe allows no save
    Dale- three hit, two wound, Arnec fails both and dies
    WBB roll failed (2!)

    Woohoo, not only did a gaurdsmen survive round one (that we know of) but he survived long enough to use a powerfist twice!
    Last edited by Romulus; July 11th, 2006 at 17:15.
    40K: Tyranid, Necron, Space Wolves
    Fantasy: Dark Elves, Lizardmen, Orcs & Goblins, Dwarves

  4. #3
    Son of LO
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    Okay everyone. I'm serious now. The chitter-chatter stops now. Nothing other than the battles get posted here. If I see people commenting in this thread, I'll delete your posts. If you feel the need to make a comment, do it in the other thread.

  5. #4
    LO Zealot Ezekiel1990's Avatar
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    Well these are results soo...

    Quote Originally Posted by Darkreever
    Two of my remaining three fights right here. I'd have posted the third one as well but the rolls were short and I need to scale down the rightup just a little first.

    Steel Titan vs Iron-father Hepheastus

    A Dale exits the arena and the remnants of Arnec are cleared, the next round of combatants enter; the biological monster known as the Steel Titan and the Iron Hand Techmarine Hepheastus. Not waiting a moment longer than it has to, the Steel Titan charges forward and shoots its massive clawed limbs forward; Hepheastus dodging one blow with ease and using his servo arms to block another two as the forth plunges deep into his gut and tears a chunk of metal and ceramite away. No blood comes out, though electric sparks and damaged wiring are clearly visible in the wound.

    Taking a step back, Hepheastus smashes all four of his servo arms forward into the Steel Titans armoured bulk and the powerful fields of energy enveloping the extra arms sheers away flesh and armour while Hepheastus jabs his power weapon forward only to have it parried by one of the Steel Titans bladed limbs.

    The Steel Titan lunges its bladed limbs forward again and again, but each new time Hepheastus is ready for the blows and uses the servo arms to block each attack before coming back with his own, using all six limbs of his body to press any advantage possible while slowly tearing away at the Steel Titan.

    Despite failing with every attack, the Steel Titan lunges with its weapons again; locking with the servo arms yet again. Unlike before though, the Steel Titan does not allow Hepheastus to move back and attack back, pressing forward and eliciting whines from the servo arms as the effort of holding the Titan back begins to become to great for them. Trying a desperate ploy, Hepheastus hacks away at the Steel Titan with his free weapon and connects with the beasts legs; forcing it to falter momentarily, enough time for the servo arms to knock back the Steel Titans arms and crash down onto its head with a sickening crunch of armoured chitin and metal connecting and breaking.

    Using the power weapon as a cane to stay up, Hepheastus surveys the form of the Steel Titan and the gore that had gotten all over himself before ramming the activated part of the power weapon into what was left of the Titan's head before turning to leave.

    Steel Titan gets first action, and charges
    Steel Titan- hits four times, wounds three times, Hepheastus fails one save and loses two wounds from implant attack
    Hepheastus- one hit, one wound, saved
    Servo arms- one hit, one wound, save failed
    Steel Titan- three hit, three wound, all saved
    Heaphestus- two hit, no wounds
    Servo arms- one hit, one wound, save failed
    Steel Titan- three hit, three wound, all saved
    Hepheastus- three hit, two wound, one save failed
    Servo arms- one hit, one wound, failed, Steel Titan dies

    Personally, this fight screams impossible to me and I'm the one that rolled it. Hepheastus actually made eight out of nine iron halo saves. (Law of averages saying that at least three or four of those should have failed like the first one that did.) Interesting battle of pure luck on Heph's part, managing to survive against the odds and weather down the tyrant with the servo arms.

    Araziel vs Tech-marine Tarkor

    With the death of the Steel Titan, the next combatants began to enter the arena as Hepheastus left. Before leaving completely Hepheastus stopped in front of one of the next fighters, the tech-father Tarkor. The flesh is weak tech-brother, you shall be triumphant here witch or no witch. Hepheastus said, and Tarkor nodded in acknowledgement, The flesh is weak and corrupt, it will fail in the end. Tarkor said to himself as Hepheastus left.

    Facing each other at the center of the arena, Areziel acted first; drawing and firing his bolt pistol with the speed similar to one of those he was sworn to hunt for the forgiveness of the dark angels. The shot hits dead center on Tarjor's chest and blows a chunk of armour and circuits away, but the iron father ignores the blow and answers in kind; plasma cutter energy missing Areziel by a hair's breadth before the librarian was on top of the techmarine.

    Both attacked each other with deadlky speed and accuracy; Areziel's attacks coming in fluidly and swift while Tarkors came in precise and automatic. Areziel's skill only just being outdone by Tarkor's sheer number of limbs to attack him with. Again and again Areziel landed blows but Tarkor's ornate armour took the blows with little to no effect while Tarkor's counter-attacks were slowly beating the librarian as Tarkor landed a blow into Areziel's arm that had him almost drop his force weapon out of pain.

    Gritting his teeth, Areziel pushed forward and stabbed forward with his force weapon, willing the weapon to come to life as it burst into flames and punched past the servo arms protecting Tarkor and running the marine through the weak point he had made before with the pistol. Weapon deap within his enemy, Areziel unleashed a storm of mental energy into the blade that clawed for Tarkor's mechanical soul and tore it apart in an explosion of energy and a shockwave backwash of the librarians excess energy that blew both apart. Tarkor no more than a lifeless husk, more machine than man; Areziel, cut and burned badly by the deadly array of weapons of the servo harness, got up to another chear from the onlookers as he walked forward to retrieve his still burning weapon from Tarkor's lifeless body before leaving.

    Areziel gets first action
    Areziel shoots- hits, wounds, Tarkor fails normal save!! Areziel charges
    Areziel- two hit, two wound, both saved
    Tarkor- one hit, one wound, saved
    Servo arms- one hit, one wound, saved
    Areziel- two hit, one wound, saved
    Tarkor- two hit, two wound, one failed
    Servo arms- no hit
    Areziel- three hit, one wound, saved
    Tarkor- one hit, no wound
    Servo arms- one hit, one wound, saved
    Areziel- three hit, one wound, failed (test passed, force weapon deals two wounds) Tarkor dies

    I accidentally went on for four more rounds before realising that Tarkor had been wounded from the bolt pistol... Damnation, had I not noticed that this fight would have gone on forever.

  6. #5
    LO Zealot Gojiratoho's Avatar
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    Results coming directly. Here were my matchups

    Solitaire Bumstead vs Bjorn Ironmane

    As the still sparking corpse of the Iron Father was pulled from the grounds, the Solitaire known as Bumstead appeared silently in the open gate. With a practiced hand he readied his ancient weapons. The low thrum of plasma coils began pulsating from his side, though the roar of the crowds droned it out. He slammed his combat weapon into the ground, peppering himself and the audience with gravel as the monofiliment tendrils fired forth in an explosion which rent the very ceramite tiles that adorned the arena floor. Confident that his weapons were in working order, Bumstead sunk crosslegged and awaited his prey.

    From the other end of the arena, a piercing howl bellowed from the open gate. Bumstead craned his neck, curious as to what manner of beast made the sound. Much to his disappointment, it was only a man that stalked forth. Bjorn Ironmane entered the arena with as much majesty and poise as if he were royalty. His movements did not match his appearance however. Wolf totems and skins adorned his ancient power armor. His long, tangled hair and greasy, braided beard flowed gently on the slight breeze. His face, while at first glance appeared normal, had an slight elongation at his nose and mouth. Close inspection would make one believe a feral beast in human form stood before them, not one of the Emperor's own. In one hand he held a long hafted hammer, the head pulsated with arcane life. In the other was a well worn chain axe that had seen the entrails of many a foe. As his eyes settled upon his enemy, another great howl peeled from his throat. He spoke no words as he began to charge.

    Bumstead sat silently as the monstrous man ran at him. As Ironmane reached the center of the arena, he made his move. His body was a blur to the crowd, dust clouds were the only way they could follow his movements. As he closed the gap with the Space Wolf, his limbs began their dance as years of training and fighting took over. He dodged and weaved between the raining blows of the great hammer, it may as well have not been moving with the ease at which Bumstead dodged around. Much to his amazement, the great beast dodged the plasma shot he had lined up with the back of it's head. This dog was well trained. The Harlequin's Kiss shot forth more times than even Bumstead could count. Many of the blows were turned away, but two hit home. A huge tangle of hair, metal, and flesh was ripped from Bjorn's right shoulder, as was a second clump from his left calf. Bumstead paused to watch the life fade from his enemies eyes. Two pits of burning rage were all that stared back at him. Realizing too late that his prey had survived, Bumstead leapt back only to be caught square in the side by the pulsating hammer.

    The world spun as Bumstead hit the ground. The shouts of the people had been replaced by a high pitched whine. Blood flowed freely from the mouth hidden under the mask of the Solitaire, but still he made no sound. His balance still betraying him, Bumstead managed to roll and block the blows that the now charging Marine fired on him. The Kiss sang out once more in a flurry of motion, but there was no strength behind his blows.

    As the Solitaire swooned before him, Bjorn grasped his hammer in both hands and swung. He connected solidly, and Bumstead's body crumpled before him. In the stands, the Eldar's head landed with a thump at the feet of the cheering crowd. Bjorn raised his hammer and let loose a triumphant bellow as one member of the arena held aloft his new souvenier.

    Bumstead wins charge
    Plasma hits, fails to wound
    12 attacks on charge, 9 hits, 7 wounds, 5 saves
    Bjorn gets 6 attacks, hitting on 6s, 1 hit, 1 wound, no save, Instakill(2 wounds)Bumstead now on Init 1
    Bjorn gets 5 attacks, hitting on 6s, no hits
    Bumstead gets 6 attacks, 3 hits, 2 wounds, 2 saves
    Bumstead (back at init 8 now) gets 6 attacks, 5 hits, 2 wounds, 2 saves
    Bjorn gets 7 attacks, hitting on 3s, 3 hits, 1 wound, no save, Bumstead dies.

    Nescmodi Reork vs Zellend Grimjaw

    No sooner had the 13th Company Wolf lord left the arena did his comrade Zellend Grimjaw ride into the arena on a gleaming, rumbling motorbike, covered in just as many wolf totems as his predecessor. The huge tires left a palpable trail of dust, his battle cries inciting the crowd into a frothing throng of cheers. As his engine idled and the dust began to settle, Grimjaw could see a form stalking cautiously through the cloud. Green skin and leather was all Grimjaw could make out, and his mind instantly brought up the image of his mentor being cut down by an Ork klaw. Rage began to boil over him as he gunned his engine. The figured stopped dead at the sound, a feral beast padded up next to him. As the dust finally settled, Grimjaw found himself staring at the largest Kroot he had ever seen. The kroot hound beside him looked normal enough, but the Kroot itself had the thick sinewy musculature and green toned skin of an Ork. Even it's beak resembled an Ork maw, the lower portion jutting out just a bit further than the upper mandible. A rifle was strapped to it's back, but the thing that caught Zellend's attention was the cruel looking armored gauntlet that the thing was carrying. The claw resembled a scavenged Eviscerator he had seen Battle Sisters weild. A smile crossed his lips from beneath is wolf skull helmet as he activated his own weapons. The low hum of the Lighting Claws was lost under the rumble of his engine. As the kroot reached for it's rifle, Zellend charged.

    The bike cut the distance between them in a heartbeat. Zellend's claws shot forth to carve the xenos into small pieces. While many of the blades did find their mark, several were turned back in flashes of red energy. A small charm hung from the Kroot's neck, glowing more bright with each attack. As Grimjaw stared blankly at this charm, the Eviscerator gauntlet crashed into his back. Pain exploded through him as stars filled his vision. Before a second blow could land, the Space Wolf twisted the throttle and blew past his enemy, the hound trailing him futilely. As his vision cleared, he again saw the xenos again reaching for it's rifle. "Fight like a man damn you!" was his battle cry as he again revved his engine and sped towards the Kroot. Grimjaw leaned back hard on his seat, pulling the front wheel from the ground as he drove ever forward. Unable to get a clear shot, the Kroot began to circle the oncoming marine. Just as it did this, Grimjaw pushed his weight forward to slam the front wheel back down and leaned his whole body into a tight turn. His knee plate dug a jagged groove into the arena floor as the heavy vehicle banked straight towards the Shaper. It brought it's rifle up to block the Space Wolf's attacks, but the weapon shattered under the force of the Lighting Claws blow. The second shot took the Kroot off it's feet and slammed it into the cold ground. Grimjaw watched as the hound ran towards the two of them. He readied himself for the attack only to see the beast tear into the dead flesh of it's former master. With a grunt of disgust, he drove back into the bowels of the arena.

    Zellend wins charge
    6 attacks, 4 hits, 2 wounds (LC reroll) 4 wounds, 2 saves
    Nescmodi gets 4 attacks, 1 hit (Veneration Charm reroll) 2 hits, 1 wound, no save, instakill for 2 wounds
    Hound gets 2 attacks, 1 hit, fails to wound
    Zellend gets 5 attacks, 4 hits, no wounds (LC reroll) 3 wounds, 1 save, Nescmodi dies

    Romulus vs Singultus

    The arena was silent for several moments after the cleanup crews exited. The cheers of the audience slowly turned to low murmurs and hushed whispers. After what seemed like an eternity, a new combatant finally entered the arena. The figure that stood before them was obviously a servant of Chaos. Besides the Chaos markings and World Eater iconography that adorned his armor, a palpable evil rolled off this man. Whole sections of the arena fell silent as his gaze swept them. "What's wrong?" his voice shattered the silence like a hammer "Are you no longer enjoying yourselves. Mayhaps the shame of spectating and not participating has gotten the better of you. Would it comfort you to know that after I claim this title I plan on killing every last one of you?" The audience seemed to inhale all at the same time. "No? Well then, perhaps I should only kill half of you, and allow the other half the pleasure of serving the true Gods of this Verse for all eternity. Does this please you?" Again, his presence seemed a tangible force that kept the audience silent. "You are all worthless and weak. You shall be ground to dust by the will of the Dark Gods. Watch my enemy, and know your fates!" With that, he turned to face the opposing gate. A large crate was being drug from the entrance by several of the handlers. Realizing what this meant, a slow smile crept forth over Romulus' lips. "Dark Ones, I face a Tyrant of the Hive, bless me so that I may slay it in you honor" he cried as he pulled a small bar of metal from within his forearm. As he held it aloft, the bar began to twist and fold in upon itself, growing larger and larger. Within seconds, a vicious looking axe was in the Lord's hand. He slammed the pommel into the ground several times, keeping all eyes on him.

    On the far side of the arena, the handlers released the safety latches on the crate and ran back as one side fell to the ground. The hideous form of a Tyranid HIve Tyrant stalked out. All four of it's arms ended in conical shaped devices, their surfaces covered in small holes. The beast lashed out at the slowest of the handlers, barely missing him with it's tail. A deep bellow wrenched it's attention to the center of the field "Hear me beast. Know that you have met your death. Come forth, and know the meaning of pain." With that, Romulus hefted the axe above his head and charged forth. The Tyrant ****ed it's head to one side, as if studying it's attacker, and then straightened and let loose a cloud of beetles. All sound was drowned out as a rattling, buzzing sound of hundreds of small beetles filled the air. Romulus barely had time to bring his axe up to a defensive position before he disappeared under the cloud. As quickly as the creatures had engulfed him they fell to the ground. Romulus slowly straightened as several more of the creatures fell dead from his armor. As his axe fell to his side, the audience could see dozens of holes riddling his chest plate, and dark black ichor pouring freely from many of them. Romulus stood there for a heartbeat, and then tumbled forward in a heap. The crowd began to roar with excitement, but this just drew the attention of the Tyrant. As it braced to let fly another barrage and the audience scrambled over one another to get clear, a sharp crack was heard. The stench of ozone filled the air as the Tyrant reeled and swooned, as if drunk. Several handlers armed with long electric prods managed to wrangle the Tyrant back into it's crate. Seeing they were again safe, the audience renewed their cheers as the crate and the corpse were taken back down below.

    Singultus wins combat
    12 Devourer shots, 9 hits (Twin Linked reroll) 10 hits 7 wounds (Living Ammunition reroll) 9 wounds, 6 saves, 3 wounds, bionics fail, Romulus dies.

    Gredge Moroon vs Shas'O Mi'Kel

    The arena stood bare again, craters and furrows marring the ceramite blocks that made up the floor. A Tau battlesuit emerged from the gate, the markings of a Shas’O adorned the robotic head and armored chassis. Beside him, a small drone hummed almost silently as it bobbed slightly in the breeze. Shas’O Mi’Kel waited patiently for his opponent to emerge.

    Across the arena, Gredge Moroon came into view. Each step echoed with the servos and whines of bionics along with a very subtle limp. The scrolls and sigils covering his Terminator Armor indicated he was a Grandmaster of the order Daemonhunters. A great, glowing sword hung at his side.

    Gredge stared down the lifeless “eyes? of the Battlesuit before him. “You are no daemon, so you are of no use to me. I shall end you quickly? The suits only response was gunfire.

    Plasma and Fusion Blaster sang out in unison as their deadly payload arced towards the Grandmaster. With speed the belied the size of the suit, Gredge was able to roll from all but one of the blasts which glanced harmlessly off his ancient armor. He rose from the roll at full speed, charging straight towards the xenos. His blade swung true, and huge rents were torn from the Battlesuit’s chest. Knowing he had pierced deep to within the very ****pit, Gredge centered his thoughts to that of cooking the Tau inside alive. Before he could bring his psychic wrath to bear, his weapon was nearly wrenched from his hands as the suit’s thrusters engaged and pulled his prey out of reach.

    Landing safely a few meters away, Mi’Kel let forth another volley from his arsenal. Again, the Marine proved too nimble even under what must be an enormous weight as only one of the shots found their target. This time Mi’Kel was sure it had struck true, for it had been his weapon arm the Plasma bolt had hit, and the arm fell dead as he swung. The shots that had dug deep into the suits circuitry before merely bounced off the armor this time. As Mi’Kel kicked and dug and attempted to engage his thrusters a second time, his drone swooped forward and smashed into Grandmaster Moroon’s face. The shock was enough to knock him backwards and allow the Shas’O time to flee. Blood now flowed freely for the first time this battle, as Gredge’s shattered nose hemorrhaged blood at an alarming rate.

    Mi’Kel attempted another volley as the wounded Grandmaster tried to regain his feet. The now damaged targeter on the Fusion Blaster sent the shot wide, but the Plasma struck home both times. A blue ripple intercepted each blast milliseconds before it would have cauterized the human’s torso, the protective ability of the armor now becoming fully evident. Mi’Kel braced for the charge.

    Fully enraged by the xenos’ refusal to die, Gredge steeled himself for a final assault. He aimed his blows directly at the damaged front armor, cutting a large section out entirely. The Tau housed inside struggled with his release latches, but not quickly enough. With a serpentine strike, Gredge separated the upper portion of Mi’Kel’s head from his jaw. The suit went ominously rigid and silent, and the buzzing drone fell dead from the air. The Grandmaster spat and turned to leave.

    Mi’Kel wins charge
    Fusion hits, wounds, saves
    Plasma hits twice, 1 wound, 1 save
    Gredge gets to actually charge
    5 attacks, 4 hits (MC reroll) 4 hits, 3 wounds, no saves, psychic test fails
    Mi’Kel gets 4 attacks, 3 hits, 2 wounds, 2 saves, Drone misses
    Mi’Kel uses Retrothrusters to Hit and Run
    Fusion hits, no wound
    Plasma hits twice, 2 wounds, 1 save
    Gredge charges back into combat
    5 attacks, 2 hits (MC reroll) 3 hits, 3 misses (rolled all 1s)
    Mi’Kel gets 4 attacks, 3 hits, 2 wounds, 2 saves, Drone hits once, wounds, Gredge fails save
    Mi’Kel uses Retrothrusters to Hit and Run
    Fusion misses
    Plasma hits twice, wounds twice, 2 saves
    Gredge charges back into combat
    5 attacks, 4 hits (MC reroll) 4 hits, 2 wounds, Mi’Kel dies

    All fights done (and I realized that the fluff ending to the Bumstead/Bjorn fight got cut off somehow, replaced it)
    Last edited by Gojiratoho; July 14th, 2006 at 18:37.
    Gyauayuayuayua! Ja! Ve vill crush da little girly men in deir little girl men awrmor! Ve vill see owur enemies driven befowur us, und hear da lahmentaytions of deir wemen. Und from owur home planet, de stayte uf Califowurnia, ve vill lawunch owur mighty offensive. Even if you kill us, ve'll be bach!! Gyauayauyauyauyau!

    -Arnoldunit Schwarzenecronegger; when questioned about the impending doom he would rain down upon the heads of his doomed enemies.

  7. #6
    Back in action! Lord Yossanrion's Avatar
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    206 (x6)

    Yossanrion Brings It Home!
    Here are my results, as typed to Assassin and Supermassive Black Hole by Muse.

    Battle One: Etan Ezekiel Barbarossa vs Daragoth
    Etan strode into the arena, his long brown leather coat, flapping in the wind. He checked his Storm Bolter "Old Glory", and whispered to it: "Come on girl, lets do this. Show them what you've got, my good girl." Sniggering was heard from the otherside of the arena, and a shadowy figure stepped forward into the light, and still the shadows hugged her body. A white grin of razor sharp teeth appeared from the shadow.
    "You talk to that old thing? You are mad, and I must save you from this maddness by way of death."
    Etan gripped fast onto Old Glory.
    "Shadow, you know not what you do. This hears my girl, and she ain't gonna take that kind abuse."
    Whispering to the storm bolter Etan raised it, and fired. The shots hit right on the shadow, and while one seemed to dissapear, and other penetrated the shadow. In an instant the grinning shadow was replaced with a wounded Dark Eldar mistress, and one that was not so smug, but was substationaly more irrate. With a thought she fired a spilter of poisned glass at Etan, but his well worn Carapace Armour deflected the evil shard. Whilst Etan stepped back after being shot, Daragoth ran forward. She pumped her body full of drugs, and feeling the pleasureable sensation pulse through her, she acted upon instinct.
    "Left, right, infront, behind, above, below, 6 LETHAL POINTS!"
    Ethan staggered back from the onslaught his stomach bleeding, and his thigh pumping out blood. He stapped back "Wild Wing" his master crafted power dagger, but to no avail, the Wych was too fast. Daragoth danced around Etan, striking him left, right, all of the 6 lethal points she had been insturcted in the art of attacking from, but as she closed in for the killing blow from behind, a feild stopped her blade, and sent her reeling. Etan swung around with Wild Wing, and stapped it deep into Daragoth's chest. She heaved with pain and pleausre, and wrenched herself off the blade. Again, she pumped herself full of the drugs, and grinning with the joy of pain and pleasure, she stapped into Etan's heart. As she pushed the Punisher through his body, she drew close to his face. She reached forward to steal his life in a kiss of death, cradling his head in her arms. Etan only smiled, and spat in her eye. Daragoth withdrew grimacing, Etan laughed, his last laugh. He collapsed on the ground before Daragoth, his Browncoat blood stained and proud. The Crowd remained silent. Daragoth waited for the roars of victory, but none came. It seemed Etan was getting a little memorial.
    "Nevermind" she thought. She'd have the audience applaud her... on the Slave ships after she was chapion of this arena.

    Etan shoots with storm bolter, 2 hits, 2 wounds, 1 wound on Daragoth, loses shadow field
    Daragoth splinter pistol 1 hit, 1 wound, saved
    Daragoth Charges – combat drugs: +1S, +1A, +1W, No OD
    Charging, 6 attacks, hitting on 3+, hits with 5, 4 wounds
    Etan saves 2, takes 2 – 1 wound left
    Etan Attacks – 4 attacks, hitting on 4+, 2 hits, no wounds
    Daragoth attacks +1S, +1A, +1W, No OD, 5 attacks, 2 hits, 1 wound, saved
    Etan attacks, - 4 attacks, 2 hits, 1 wound, DE takes one wound
    Daragoth attacks +1S, +1A, +1W, No OD, 5 attacks, 3 hits, 2 wounds, Etan takes 2 wounds, and dies

    Battle Two: The Scion vs Mortus the Mystic
    Mortus strode into the areana, and watched the remains of Etan being solomley carreid off. His attention snapped back to the arena, and he saw before him a being of steel, and hate. It floated upon a platform of power, and carried a staff that pulsed with with energy, much Likes Mortus' own Bedlam Staff. Tzeentch was going to be pleased with Mortus' victory, if he won. The Necron lord suddenly pointed his staff at Mortus, and 3 green energy blasts impacted Mortus' Gold and Blue Terminator Armour, with no effect. The Lord then charged into Mortus, but Mortus was ready, and calling upon Tzeentch and the warp, he struck the Necron lord, tearing part of it, and stabbing into the ciructryinside. The Scion, unable to defend against Warp Magicks, was paraylsed, and Mortus twirled the staff about, again bringing it 30cm below the the previous blow, and again using his powerfull warp abilities to defeat the metal monster. Obiovusly the Scion was unable to defeat him, because he could not change his ways, like Mortus had. With confidence that this would be the final blow, Mortus The Mystic brought the bedlam staff towards The Scion's head. However, a metal hand blocked the way, and gripping the staff, the Necron lord swung back, failing to hit Mortus as the Warp coursed along his own metal body. Mortus and The Scion stood there for moments, locked in combat, each unable to best the other. But the wounds delt by Mortus were taking a toll, and The Scion's grip on the Bedlam Staff lessend, ever so slighty. With this fact changed, Mortus The Mystic rammed the bedlam staff into The Scion's head, and calling upon the power of the Warp, and Tzeentch, he destroyed the Scion in an explosion of metal and magic. The arena cheered with joy, and some stopped cheering as metal peices of The Scion flying through the air because of the explosion, smacked them in the head, Chuckling to himself as he left the charrhed metal scraps of the Scion behind in the arena, Mortus knew that the champion of the arena would change to be him.

    The Scion shoots 3 hits, 1 wound, saved
    The Scion charges, Mortus stikes first, 5 attacks, 4 hits, 1 wound, save failed The Scion takes 1 wound can’t attack because of the bedlam staff
    Mortus strikes first, 5 attacks, 4 hits, 1 wound, The Scion fails save, can’t attack because of the bedlam staff,
    Mortus attacks, 5 attacks, 3 hits, 1 wound, The Scion saves.
    The Scion attacks, 3 attacks, 1 hit, no wounds
    Mortusattacks, 5 attacks, 4 hits, no wounds
    The Scion – 3 atacks, 1 hit, no wounds
    Mortus attacks 5 attacks, 4 hits, 1 wound, failed save, Necron lord Dies.

    Battle Three: Unnamed Tyranid Tyrant vs Putracine
    Having seen the Tzeentch fool best his opponenet, Putracine vowed to best him. Walking into the dust and bloodswept arena, Putracine looked around, and came face to face with his Opponent. Or rather, the Jaws. The Tyranant roared blasting the Chapion of Nurgle back in the air, and lashed out with 4 massive scything talons, one striking thourgh the Nurgle Blessed Terminator Armour, dripping with acids, that easily sliced through decaying flesh. Putracine however, was not afraid of wounds, it was just a place from Papa Nurgle to place more blessings. Silienty, Putracine hauled himself to his feet, and marched swiftly towards the tyrant that roared in victory. He punched forwards with his Powerfist, and grapping its ribcage from within, pulled it clower, enough to pummel its head with with his powerfist. Again, and again, and AGAIN! He brought the crushing power deepinto the Alien's head. With its death throughs, the Tyrant failed its claws at him. Putracine merely felt the Talons "ping" of his armour, and with a final twist, he grappedhold of the tyrant's neck, and broke it. Acknoledging the roaring crowed Putracine left the arena, confident that he would get further than that Tzeentch fool ever would.

    Tyrant charges, 6 attacks, 5 hits, 2 wounds, 1 passed, 2 wounds delt( Implant attack)
    Putracine attacks back 4 attacks, 3 hits, 3 wounds, 3 wounds taken, 1 wound left
    Tyrant attacks, 5 attacks,2 hits, no wounds
    Putracine attacks, 4 attakcs, 3 hits, 3 wounds, 2 saves, one wound, tyrant dies

    Battle Four: Cannoness Adriana vs Canoness Sancia
    Canoness Sancia walked out into the light of the areana, her Inferno Pistol hannging by herside, and Blessed Weapon sheathed over her back. 10 paces from her stood Canoness Adriana, hovering above the ground, and eviscarator slung behind her back. She too had an inferno pistol by her side. It looked like it would have to be a quickdraw contesnt. Adrian was quicker to her gun, she pulled it out of the holster, and fired. The shot was true, but a wall of bliding light defelcted the shot from the other Canoness. Sancia did the same, and the same wall of light appeared, however this was a blue light, as compared to Sancia's own yellow. With a roar of "hereitic!" Sancia dove forwards, jumping intothe air, to unsheath her blessed weapon into Adriana's face. However the weapon clanged away from her face, after a sheild of blue light appeared. Adriana responed with her eviscarator, noisy, and petrol smelling, it crahsed to the ground where Sancia had been before she jumped out of the way. As Adriana tried to lift the massive chainsword from the ground, Sancia again swung at at Adriana, again to be tharwarted by the blue wall of light. Adriana swung the Eviscarator in a wide arc, the roaring, tearing blade slamming into the side of Sancia, and cleaving her in two. Or at least, thats what would have happened if Sancia's Yellow Wall of light had not prevented the Eviscarator from doing so. Both Canonnesses were exhausted, but were still alive. Sancia raced forward. Her blessed weapon delt two massive gashes in Adriana's side, leaving her bearly alive. Gritting her teeth and tougne through the blood swelling in her mouth, Adrian swuning the eviscarator again. The tootheed blade ripped though Sancia's side. Gasping in pain, she sung her blessed weapon hard, decapitating Adriana. Using her last concsious breath to spilt blood on the head of the heretic she had destroyed, she collapsed to the wild cheering of the crowd, and the voices of Medics saying that it would be alright, she was into the next round.

    Cannoness Adriana shoots first, 2+ inv. Save used by Canoness Sancia
    1 shot 1 hit, 1 wound, save passed
    Canoness Sancia shoots, Cannoness Adriana passes faith test,
    1 shot 1 hit, 1 wound, Saved
    Canoness Sancia gets charge
    Both get 2+ inv.
    Canoness Sancia stirkes first
    4 attacks, 2 hits, 1 wound, saved by Cannoness Adriana
    Cannoness Adriana 3 attacks, 1 hit, no wounds
    Canoness Sancia strikes first
    Both get 2+ inv.
    3 attacks, 3 hits, 3 wounds, 1 wound, Saved
    Cannoness Adriana 3 attacks, 2 hits, 2 wounds, both saved
    Canoness Sancia 3 attacks, 2 hits, 2 wounds
    Canoness Adriana 3 attacks, 1 hit, 2 wounds (insta kill)
    Canoness Sancia 3 attacks, 3 hits, 3 wounds
    Cannoness Adriana dies


    Well thats it! A nice round I thought. Btw, I did do the master crafting rolls for those who had it, I just didn't state when I used it thats all. So you did get those hits. ^_^

    Anzac Clan!
    Final Fantasy!

  8. #7
    Son of LO darkreever's Avatar
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    186 (x8)

    As the medicea teams rushed Adriana out of the arena, another entered for his fight. Clad in black armour, that could be seen underneath a metalic scale plate tabard adorning his upper body, the skull masked figure walked to the center of the arena with his weapons held in each hand. The crozius arcanium, symbol of the chaplains of the astartes, and a large hammer that hummed as though ready to come to life. From the opposite end of the arena entered a wild figure, the wolf lord Svar of the feral brotherhood, adorned in blueish-grey armour with talismans, necklaces, and various teeth hung about his armour as prizes and wards. Atop his head was a wild mane of black hair that looked as feral as the rest of Svar, especially the fairly large canine like teeth the lord bared at the chaplain.

    As the two stopped at the center of the arena, Alestraad pleaded with Svar not to fight him, Brother marine I beg you please do not go through with this. My mission here is not to kill my brothers but to redeem all heroes of the imperium who have fallen here. The chaplains words almost have a tinge of emotion to them, but a chaplain shows no emotion for they are the symbol of death made real. You would insult me and the honour of my brotherhood by having me backdown to a weakling! If honouring the name of heroe's is your business than you will either have to add my name or your work will end here! Svar snarls as his answer before jumping forward, frost bleading billowing shards of ice as the lord lunges forward to kill his opponent. Brother marine or not, they had both come knowing they risked fighting other allies so Alestraad's plead was no more than one more tactic to win in Svar's mind.

    Letting out a howl of rage, Svar slashed with his blade in one hand and threw a balled up fist forward from his other arm. Alestraad blocked and parried the frost blade with his crozius, but the fist caught him completely by surprise and the fist landed right in the chaplains face; cracking into the skull where a very audible cracking sound marked the damage done. Taking several steps back, Alestraad almost failed to stop Svar's next bout of attacks; but unlike before he knew that the wolf lord used more than just his blade as the weapon to throw at Alestraad and managed to duck another punch and sidestep a kick before activating the hammer in his off hand. Alestraad had no other choice, if he did not fight back then eventually Svar would defeat him and Alestraad could not let that happen. He of all people understood the meaning of redemption. He had led many to their deaths for such a thing because of a curse they had no controll over.

    Blocking another attack from Svar's blade, Alestraad allowed Svar's follow-up punch to take him in the side, giving him enough momentum to swing the thunder hammer in his off hand right into the wolf lord's chest and smashing the marine to the ground with a sickening crack of shattering armour and bones. I am sorry brother marine. Alestraad said to Svar as he walked up to finish his work, Save it fool and just finish the job. Svar answered back, spitting blood at the chaplain as Alestraad brought his crozius down and split the lords face in two before turning away from his dead opponent and started to walk away; all the while muttering a litany that ended with Svar's name.

    Wolf Lord Svar vs Alestraad Lorgar

    Svar gets first action and Shoots-misses, charges
    Svar- five hits (out of nine), three wound, one failed
    Alestraad- three hit, two wound, both failed and Svar is killed

    When I did the rolls I allowed Svar to take all his before deciding upon whether or not to use the thunder-hammer Alestraad had. After having him survive I went with the evil route, taking full advantage of the downside to mark of the wulfen and allowing everyone of Alestraad's attacks to be that much deadlier.

    When I had read the fluff for Alestraad, the match-up of these two made me a bit sad because I knew that it would either be Svar ending Alestraad's mission or Alestraad being the one that added another name to the imperial heroes killed.
    Last edited by darkreever; July 17th, 2006 at 17:49.

    Take my love, take my land, take me to where I cannot stand; I don't care I'm still free, you can't take the sky from me.

    "The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."- Lorgar
    Member of the Fluff Masters Clan

  9. #8
    Senior Member Chaplain Grimm's Avatar
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    20 (x1)

    Tolinus vs Big John

    “Look how easily they break…” Tolinus mused, looking to where the Wolf Lord lie, his face split asunder. He stroked a grot with taloned gauntleted fingers. The grot stared off into nothing, it’s eyes dead mindless pinpricks. Its twin sat at the Tzeentch Sorcerer’s feet, drooling and moaning. The Chaos Sorcerer stood, dumping the grot to the ground with a casual flick of his hand, and walked out onto the field. “Come along idiots.” He ordered in a sepulcheral voice, taking up his Bedlam Staff, topped with the blasphemous rune of the Lord of Change. “Time to begin.”

    “Every drop spilt is a victory. This place is an altar to the Blood god!” John seethed, his fury just barely kept in check. He was enormous. Towering eight feet and encased in twisted power armor. His muscles threatened to tear through his own skin, so large and knotted they were, as he flexed his arms, hefting his fell Dreadaxe. He wore a Khornate helm, spiked and etched with the symbols of Khorne. His crimson eyes glared across the arena at his opponent. “A weakling Sorcerer of Tzeentch!” he fumed. “This bookworm faces me?!” he roared in berserk rage, charging towards Tolinus, Dreadaxe raised, and snatched a wickedly curved cleaver from his war harness with his other fist.

    Tolinus’ helmed head rose in a start of surprise. The Khorne Prince stampeding towards him like a bull. “Always in such a hurry to slaughter, never thinking.” The Sorcerer stepped back with the charge, raising his staff in two hands.

    The assault was horrendous. Tolinus narrowed his eyes, knowing full well the charge of a Khornate, especially a Chosen Prince was a thing not to be taken lightly. The attacks came on with earth rending strokes of John’s Dreadaxe, the Sorcerer concentrating with all his might, parrying blow after endless blow. He turned aside one axe swing, only to feel it skip along his ribs and bite flesh on the return stroke. Pooling his strength, he thrust forward, no weakling himself imbued with the gifts of the Lord of Change, among them prodigious strength.

    John reeled back, eyes mad with rage and bloodfrenzy, Tolinus temporarily overpowering him. Tolinus muttered foul twisting incantations, necrotic green tendrils of warp energy gathering in his outstretched hand and bursting forth like fell lightning. The Sorcerer’s magic skittered along John’s armor but the berserk Prince shrugged it off and roared, plowing forward. The grots shambled about Tolinus’ feet and the Sorcerer grinned, unphased by the show of brute determination. “I could sacrifice one of you idiots I suppose…however this will be much sweeter.” He stepped towards the Khorne Prince, and jabbed his staff into the raging warriors sternum, then whipped it upwards into his chin. Each blow struck unleashed writhing warp energy, snaking across the berserker’s body.

    John blinked, his eyes wide. His limbs refused to obey him. His rage tripled and he let forth a bellow of defiance.

    Tolinus strutted around the Demon Prince and smirked mockingly beneath his horned helm. “A mighty Prince….brought oh so low by a mere Sorcerer. How infuriating that must be to you.” He pat John’s jaw patronizingly with a taloned gauntlet. “You Khornate imbeciles are all the same. Do you honestly believe the Warlords of Chaos rule…?” he slapped John hard and laughed. “I’ve manipulated your kind for eons. You are all fools, and brainless meatshields.”

    Tolinus walked away then paused, raising a hand to call forth his fell powers, gifted to him by his dark god. He instead turned, dropping his hands. “No…this will be more satisfying.” Still unable to move, John wasn’t even able to scream as Tolinus took him apart, crushing his body with massive blows from the cursed Bedlam staff.

    Tolinus’ laughter echoed across the arena, and his grot thralls whimpered and scurried about.

    John: Wins initiative charges. +3 attacks for Rage of Khorne roll 9 total on the charge.

    John: 5 hits (spiky bits) 5 hits-3 wounds-2 saves
    Tolinus: Gift of Chaos misses. 3 hits-1 wound-0 saves *stunned*

    John: Cannot attack due to Bedlam staff.
    Tolinus: 4 hits-4 wounds-1 save. John dies.

    Now... I rolled up John's attacks, in case the staff only works in the turn it wounds on, and the outcome was still the same. Wasn't 100% sure on the rules. Also forgot to use Tolinus' Gift of Chaos on turn two, so I rolled it up and it hit and would have caused 2 wounds. So Tolinus wins the fight all around. Though KUDOS to John on a mighty impressive opening salvo that just failed to deliver. 9 ATTACK?! Rough.
    Last edited by Chaplain Grimm; July 17th, 2006 at 05:41.

  10. #9
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    20 (x1)

    Tolinus vs Big John (continued)

    Tolinus' inner eye swirled and snapped back into focus. His taloned gauntlet still stroking the grot thrall, his eyes focusing on the combatants being cleared from the field of battle. Tzeentch had spoken to him. His visions of victory had been granted and assured. He stood with confidence, brushing the thrall from his lap and standing, his horned helm catching the light of the arena and flashing.

    "Let us go meet in battle with Khorne's imbecillic champion shall we my pets..?" he breathed, stalking into the battlefield of the arena proper.

    Big John seethed, looking through slitted eyes at the approaching Sorcerer. His helm encased his head, thronged with a multitude of spikes and sigils of the Blood god. "The bookworm swaggers doesn't he?" he rumbled, gripping his Dreadaxe in massive fists, turning to roar at the crowd, his massive frame rippling muscle. "I will end this quickly filth!" he roared, turning his gaze back to Tolinus. "I shall not be beaten by a simpering courtier of Tzeentch! Especially not a mere Sorcerer! I am a Prince of Khorne!"

    Tolinus locked eyes with John and smirked behind the mask of his helm, his voice sepulcheral and breathy. "Your end is assured. The Lord of Change demands it!"

    John leaped forward, jumping high into the air. His answer a savage battle roar that split the arena with its ferocity. Tolinus took a step back, eyes wide and raised his Bedlam staff to meet the furious Khornate Prince.

    John brought his massive Dreadaxe down in a sweeping overhand chop, the force of the blow blurring the outline of his weapon. His chest tightened to bursting, his massive muscles flexing with the force of the swing. Dreadaxe met Bedlam Staff with a thunderous peal, and shower of sparks....then split it cleanly in two. The mighty Dreadaxe buried itself in Tolinus' head, nearly bisecting the Sorcerer's helm.

    "I-im-possible...!" Tolinus managed to sputter, his arms falling out limp, gripping both split halves of his once mighty staff. The ends sparked with necrotic light, and thrummed dangerously.

    John laughed with insane vigor, staring murderously down at the ruined Tzeentch Sorcerer. "Khorne does not palaver with fools of Tzeentch! Your god be damned!" he seethed, the words rumbling deep in John's chest.

    The sundered staff erupted with escaping Chaos energies, whipcracking about the arena, and slaying several spectators. These were the fortunate ones. Many writhed in agony, their bodies roiling and bursting as the unleashed powers of Tzeentch forced them through most painful changes. The exploding staff caught John in the chest and he grunted, watching amusedly as Tolinus' body was torn to shreds, a fan of gore exploding from the Khorne Prince in a massive swath, several meters long.

    Pounding his scorched but relatively unharmed chest, Big John raised his Dreadaxe high and shouted. "Blood for the Blood god!!"

    Big John wins initiative (again) and gets 2 extra attacks on the charge.

    Big John-5 hits/4 wounds-0 saves allowed (dreadaxe) Tolinus dies.

    Tolinus was utterly savaged in the redone bout. Dreadaxes are just as savage as a Bedlam staff can be. Sorry Robizzle. Hehe. Thanks to Jaffar Hasad for the idea of the first write up being a vision from Tzeentch to Tolinus of victory to come. Unfortunately, Khorne told Tzeentch to step the hell off this time.

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