Post by ingen on Apr 21, 2021 21:11:14 GMT
SANRIN SYSTEM, CASTLE ZHANG-YU
The Ōgonshoku Katsumoto Kinen Kentaikai To-Omatsuri, or "Golden Katsumoto Memorial Swordfighting Tournament And Festival", was a new event. Designed in the style of the great tournaments of Laptev and Neusattar, Daimyo Toshi knew that it would not rival their scale or splendour quite yet, but it was important to uphold Imperial tradition, especially in the more remote corners of the Jade Empire.
Eight combatants had qualified for the tournament, including one warrior from the Jade Empire itself. With a grand prize of ¥100,000 and a custom-forged hikatana, it had drawn combatants from across the Ancerious Galaxy, which was good.
The combatants were housed in the Western Complex, a series of guest suites and outbuildings nestled in the corner of the defensive walls at the western end of the Castle Grounds. In the central yard a paved area had been cleared out and surrounded by benches and observation towers, silver chains decorated with bells and ribbons marking out the duel space. A stand of blossoming cherry trees stood to the east, whilst around the whole area ran a crystal-clear stream with smooth pebbles along its bed, flanked by willows, reeds and flowers. A pool filled with elegant fish lay to the north of the area, whilst a larger building contained a restaurant that had been reserved for the combatants and their support teams, who had been provided private shuttles from the spaceport in the east of the city.
Toshi had let Chien-Po, one of her more well-fed senior clerks, handle the day-to-day. She would meet the combatants during the opening ceremonies, but for now the chubby and moustachioed Chien-Po would be on-hand to answer their questions and attend to their needs with his courtly, discrete manner.
Nakano Takeshi, the Jade combatant, was already sipping a mango beer at the bar. At only 5"2, she seemed diminutive, her legs swinging from the tall barstool as she waited for the others to arrive...
Joe was not a lucky man, and he had a reputation for it. He had decided to try and prove he was good at something for once by joining the tournament and so after many, many, many delayed and cancelled spaceships on the way, he had finally arrived at what he hoped was the right place.
He took a moment to observe the beauty of the castle despite people constantly walking past what he was looking at and obscuring his vision. After getting the correct directions from Chien-Po, getting lost and having to retrace his steps several times, and dropping off his baggage in his room, he made it to the bar, where he sat in a corner seat having ordered a glass of water. To anyone else, he probably looked like some average spectator that had wandered into the wrong bar rather than a combatant.
The travelling circus by the name of the Pearl Star has always been a bit of an odd thing around local space. It’s filled with all kinds of genetic freaks who use their modified bodies to be able to perform great feats of entertainment. From clowns whose bones would bend like rubber to allow all kinds of slapstick, to many limbed dancers that encapsulated crowds with their strange movements. The circus was doing pretty good business on novelty alone and money was rolling in steadily.
Well it’s a fortunate surprise then that the travelers happened to pass by local space while the tournament was happening. The manager of the circus decided to give all his performers and employees a well deserved break to join in the festivities and spend the money they earned travelling the stars.
Well her colleagues were heading out to enjoy themselves an acrobat by the name of Anya Bradley had a different plan. She was on her way to participate in the tournament. It’s not for the money, or the fame... ok, maybe a little bit about the fame but mostly it was for her own enjoyment.
Like all the other fighters she went down to the castle where she greeted Chien-Po and was accompanied to her room to drop of her stuff, after which she went to the bar for socialising. Anya stepped inside the bar and looked around for a bit. She was a rather tall woman, standing at 7 feet. But the thing that no doubt would grab the most attention were her wings. They were currently folded behind her back to make her not take up as much space. Black Raven wings they were, with a cute little birdtail poking out. Anya was wearing colourful and rather messy robes, held together with countless straps to prevent it from falling away at an inopportune time. They were emblazoned with various spiralling patterns made from gold. She wore no shoes but simple strong cloth wrapped around her feet instead, purely for keeping out dirt and glass.
Her hair was tied into 2 large braids on each side of her head that went along to side to the back of her head where they merged together and were held in place with a great big silver pin in the shape of a butterfly. Her facial features were remarkably soft but here eyes were a piercing bright orange.
Anya made her way over to the bar, she didn’t sit down on any of the stools, it was not her style. She ordered some tea for herself and looked to the other fighters as she sipped her drink. Staying quiet for now*
Johan however was different. He joined the tournament a bit on impulse rather then thinking it through but the money made it too appealing to back down now. Travelling constantly he also took the opportunity to take as much advantage of the accommodations as possible. Maybe a bit too much actually. Eventually he got himself situated in the bar as well, a few minutes after Anya entered. He was of average height but a rather wide and strong build. Notable were the countless tribal tattoos all over his body. The language some of the tattoos were written in was not recognisable.
A pointy-eared and gill-necked figure ducked into the bar. He remained hunched down, presumably out of practice to avoid hitting any hanging fixtures, as he approached the counter. He straightened to a full 3 meters and regarded the bartender, ordering two of the stronger drinks with a sharp accent and sharper teeth. With laced fingers behind his back he less than subtly surveyed the room while waiting. Those who glared back would see the patchwork of scars jutting out from under the edges of his three-piece suit and barely hidden under the short silver hair atop his head. Some were apparently battle scars long since healed, but others were far too surgical to blend in.
He thanked the bartender, payed his short tab with a moderate tip, and promptly headed back the way he came. Out in the open air, he saw Chien-Po over the yard heading from the northern end of the complex, signalling him to check there for his student.
Rosco sat cross-legged at the edge of a pool filled with beautiful fish, his eyes drooping half open as he watched the creatures move about their tranquil space. His old master sat down next to him, appearing equal in height but not even half the width of the genetic slab nicknamed after a concrete reservoir blocker. Jet black hair fell loosely over Rosco's blue yukata, fitting for his casual demeanor for the day. He accepted one of the drinks, and their brief direct contact relayed his master's short memory of the bar and those within. He smiled, sizing them all up in his head, and drank deeply.
The next morning, the first of the fights was set to take place between Anya and Rosco. Their weapons had been fitted with lightweight pulse inhibitors that generated a protective field which, when it contacted solid matter, would convert the kinetic energy of the weapon into an electric charge which would be instead used to temporarily stun and numb the contacted area. This not only prevented injury to the combatants, but also allowed them to precisely determine if contact had been made to within a quarter-inch.
The combat arena was unchanged, a wide flagstoned area surrounded by benches and roped off by chains with bells and ribbons for visibility. Already a crowd had gathered, enjoying the refreshments sold by various vendors such as Calliocanthus shishkebobs, candied fruit and nuts, pizza slices and more. Nakano watched from the eaves of the restaurant, whilst on a canopied dais Daimyo Toshi watched with interest.
Chien-Po gestured for the two warriors to approach in the middle.
"Remember, this is a civilised display. First blood results in an immediate cessation and a default round win. You will fight three rounds against one another, with weapon contact to the head or torso required to claim a round win. At any time, you may drop your weapon and call out "Cease to concede the round.
Now, please bow to one another, then display your weapons of choice for the crowd and retire to your corners. "
Anya entered the arena while performing a cartwheel which led into a sideward 360 salto that then proceeded to turn into a handstand which she moved on from by performing a headspring and then she landed onto her 2 feet proper. She did a little bow as she landed towards the crowd and then bowed to her opponent in front of her.
For this occasion she wore her standard circus uniform consisting of a skintight 2 piece set of clothing, no shoes, just tight footwraps and once again her long hair was tightly bound into braids. Her wings were held close to her body as moving them out would change her centre of gravity too much to perform ground based acrobatics reliably. Instead of any weapons she simply raised her leg straight into the air to show that she strapped the inhibitors on her feet, she also has the inhibitors on her knuckles as well. Last thing to note is that her acrobatic uniform is absolutely dazzling, its not a flat colour, instead it’s a stylised depictions of a galaxy. Countless dots of white, blue, orange and red representing stars mixed with bright nebula. The patterns almost seemed to be moving with her as she performed her graceful acrobatics.
“We almost seem like opposites.”
Anya whispered to herself as she lowered her leg back to the ground after which she turned around to walk to her corner of the arena. While walking back she stretched her raven black wings a bit, no doubt she would have to use every bit of agility she had, one good hit on her and it’s over. Anya was nervous, she kept quiet and to herself as her mind raced with thoughts. She really thought it would be some harmless fun but the realisation dawned on her that she was actually going to fight someone else, her hand shook as began to carefully control her breaths to calm down. ”it’s normal” Anya thought ”you always get nervous when trying something new.” this calmed her a bit. After she moved to her corner a very sharp perfume smell would still linger where she stood a moment ago.
Rosco entered from the opposite side of the arena, marching at a steady pace to the center. He waved widely to the onlooking crowd to his left, then his right, flashing a toothy grin each time. The Dam knew most of the cheers were for his far more dazzling opponent, but this did little to curb his enthusiasm; he was just delighted to have an opportunity like this one. He bowed deeply with genuine respect to the performer, though the snarky grin betrayed his thoughts of the coming fight.
He wore comparatively less than Anya, sporting light grey drawstring trousers a few shades brighter than Rosco's own skin and a heavily worn black belt. What could be mistaken as tribal tattoos from a distance were in fact a multitude of scars lining his entire upper half. Unlike his elderly counterpart awaiting outside the arena, none of these looked to be inflicted by wounds, but instead surgical markings revealing just how far along the Dam had taken to modifying his form. Rosco raised his arms in an X across his chest, showing in full view the arm blades he would be using today. They were attached by bracers midway down his forearms, extending twice their length starting from the elbows. The overall design of the curved blades suggested a sharpened edge and point, but it was blunted by inhibitors along the edge as per the rules. Similar nodules marked the bottom of his palms and ran along his knuckles, his secondary 'weapons' made obvious.
Rosco pivoted to return back to his corner, brandishing a more confident if not cocky gait as he did. He slammed and scraped the broad sides of the blades together a few times hoping for a reaction from the crowd, and loving the electrical sparks it produced himself. He inhaled deeply the sickly sweet scents around him, his mind clearing of little else as he settled in for the match to begin.
At the signal, the first round began, and the combatants engaged.
Each darted to meet in the center, Rosco keeping his arms outstretched and Anya darting in low. They tracked each others more subtle movements as they drew close, but Anya's speed proved faster than Rosco's relfexes could match. She quickly, and to quite the spectacle of the crowd, took a flying, dancing leap over the Dam, flowing into a twirling kick behind him. Rosco was slow, but not so slow as to end it here, only barely blocking the attack from hitting his torso with an elbow jab to match it.
There came a crackling as the inhibitors absorbed the combined impacts, the blow turning to electric charge as it coursed through the Annoliddan. It seemed however that his race's critical weakness - a fatal vulnerability to electricity due to the nature of their telepathy - was no longer present in Rosco's nerves. Rosco let the surge pass through his musculature, forcing Anya to withdraw in a flourish lest Rosco's wide-sweeping armblade hit its mark.
The round continued in a cyclical pattern: Anya closing in, using her superior maneuverability and speed to get around Rosco's extra reach, but never managing to land a lasting hit to bring down the Dam before he retaliated. Eventually, their came a golden opportunity. Distracting with a sidelong blow from her tail, Anya took to the air, surprising both the crowd and her opponent by striking from directly above him. Now she had an impressive lock on his head, but at a startling cost; as much as she had a clear strike at her opponent, so too did Rosco. Instead of dealing the finishing blow, her arms were busy blocking the armblades from striking her torso, and though they did not cut, the inhibitors fed a constant stream of shock through her as Rosco put more pressure on them.
Eventually, Anya conceded. Not verbally, but instead giving in as the blades slipped from her grasp and made contact before she could land a finishing blow to Rosco's head.
After a minute to recover between rounds the signal was given for the second round to begin and the 2 combatants moved back to the centre.
Rosco and Anya once more closed the distance to engage. Rosco had his arms raised to guard his chest and head which made Anya circle him to wait for an opening. Eventually she closed the distance by running at him straight ahead. Rosco broke his guards to strike at Anya’s head as she approached but Anya ducked down underneath his arms. Not breaking momentum she extended her arms to tackle Rosco by the leg and knock him of balance. She knew exactly how to move his legs to make him stumble and fall with just a push.
Rosco was therefore knocked of balance and almost fell to the ground but recovered. However this little moment of stumbling and recovering was enough for Anya to turn around and flying kick him in the back of his knee to get him on the floor proper. After learning her lesson from last time she kept her body far away from his claw blades and instead decided to do a frontflip and hit his face with both her feet as she landed down to earth. Normally this would break a nose and several teeth but the disrupters instead gave of quite a shock.
With this obvious hit to the head the round was decided in Anya’s favour, not as stylish as her previous attempt but she had to tone it down in order to not make herself too obvious a target.
The final round began a minute later, the cheers of the crowd hushing themselves in anticipation.
The combatants met slightly off center than their previous matches, as Rosco made little initiative to attack Anya. he was keeping his arms very close, tucked in with elbows behind. There he showed a remarkable degree of flexibility for his size, simply twisting them in place to block Anya's growing assault. The one exception to this was whenever she went for his legs like the last round, responding instead with a furious barrage of jabs to drive her off.
The morning sun was making its march into the sky. Three minutes had passed and the fight showed no signs of nearing a close. Rosco refused to deviate from his defense and Anya's showmanship was blended beautifully with a mix of martial focus and frenzied determination. Her aerial movements kept driving the larger combatant around the ring in a bid to maintain his stance, while her acrobatics left little room for error each time an attack approached. Here Rosco's own reflexes worked against him, his body constantly tensed and flinching against Anya's slightest move in case of another feigned attack or follow through. Meanwhile, Anya was free to take her time; her light, flowing movements by comparison and the cheers and chants of the crowd granted a rousing burst of energy whenever she began to feel strained.
Six minutes in, Rosco slipped. He had been panting for awhile now, struggling to maintain the defense for much longer as he was. Anya surged as he fell to one knee, darting to and fro her opponent to keep the pressure on. All that was left was the final blow, a cartwheel leading into a direct hit upon Rosco's exposed chest. Victory in sights, she began the maneuver...
And only got halfway. Rosco's breath had steadied, for only a mere moment, but long enough to focus in and catch her tail midflight. Her momentum stopped, and as his muscles tensed to move, both fighters came to a sudden realization.
Only their weapons had inhibitors; the arena floor did not.
With a flick of his wrist, Rosco swung, moving Anya’s spine like a whip, complete with a resounding crack against the stones. He had not connected the dots to tell him she had hollow bones, but the sickly crunches that followed were evidence enough. He stood as a morbid silence fell over the crowd, and gently pressed the tip of his blade against his fallen opponent to declare the match over. A small, albeit meaningless mercy in comparison.
As Anya hit the ground on her back very hard, she had a massive ”oh shit” expression on her face as her various bones snapped and cracked. A spinal fracture and her elbow joints were bent backwards as she tried to break her fall. She does not look to be in pain of any sort, there is just a very shocked expression on her face combined with hazy eyes. Luckily her gene mods kicked in to suppress the pain by flooding her brain with various chemicals. Although the severity of the pain meant that she was basically high of her own supply of pain suppressants. It’s was not an uncommon feeling to her, acrobatic practice never went 100% perfect every time.
As the battle came to a close she just laid there on her back looking at the sky. Eventually the tournament organisers would rush in to take her away into the hospital after seeing her not stand up after a while.
There was a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd as the fight came to a close. Almost immediately, attendants hurried forwards, followed by Chien-Po. A scrum of medics surrounded Anya, loading her carefully onto a litter and carrying her away.
The tubby official drew close to Rosco, a smile frozen on his face. His expression never changing, he whispered through his teeth. "Another stunt like that and you will be arrested. This is a civilised event and you will not disturb that."
Offering a shallow bow, he turned to the crowds, gesturing voluminously to Rosco.
"Minasama, your semi-finals victor, Rosco of the Annoliddan Inquisition!"
There was more applause, although not everyone in the stands cheered. Chien-Po gestured for Rosco to leave the arena, and then waited for the attendants to finish clearing up around him.
"Next, our very own Nakano Takeshi will face 'Unlucky Joe' of Hastrax!"
Nakano stepped into the ring. She was dressed in a suit of older-style o-yoroi armour, made of plates of glittering teal crystal-glass that many would recognise as vitredur. She wore no mempo mask, her glowing ivory-and-jade face visible beneath a helmet crowned by two spiralling horns of uneven length. At her side she carried a long sword, a curving tachi blade of the same teal crystal as her armour, its elegant lines marred by the contact regulators along the cutting edge.
Despite being small, she cut an impressive figure as she walked with the elegance of one who treats swordplay as an art or a sport. Reaching the centre, she bowed to Chien-Po before waiting for Unlucky Joe, to whom she would also bow and offer a polite smile. The crowd cheered wildly, obviously favouring the home team, and some even threw cherry blossoms.
Joe was slowly walking in from the other side of the arena, stumbling slightly on an errant srone as he entered. Unlike Nakano in her fancy ornate armour, Joe was wearing a very beat up set of armour that he had put together himself from various metal items that had clearly suffered while being transported here, not that it was particularly well made in the first place. His weapon could be optimistically described as a quarterstaff, and in fact the regulators that had been put on for the match probably increased it's ability to do damage.
Unlucky Joe stood where he was intended, before offering nervous bows to both Chien-Po and Nakano. He wasn't really expecting applause or enthusiasm and indeed the crowd was probably more shocked that he actually intended to fight. Nevertheless, he stood, smiling slightly, without any particular flourish, other than managing to drop his weapon in a feat of clumsiness, stooping to pick it back up.
Nakano felt almost ashamed, as if she had been sent this opponent to mock her. He was clearly out of place, but as the combat started a lunge from his quarterstaff nearly connected with her face, only a spry step back keeping her in the game. The audience grew louder, some booing but others cheering in appreciation of what seemed to be a canny and unexpected move from the foreigner that had nearly ended the round early.
Nakano focused, sweeping the thoughts from her mind. His next lunge came for her legs and she parried from the second position, sweeping her sword from right to left before levelling it out and hacking forwards at his neck with a slashing blow back the other way. Unlucky Joe managed to stumble aside, avoiding the blow and bringing his own weapon around in a wild haymaker from Nakano's left.
Nakano pivoted on her left foot, blocking it low in the first position and then lunging forwards. The field at the tip of her tachi crashed with an electrical spark against Joe's breastplate and he was thrown onto his back.
She regained her posture, then sheathed her sword and extended a hand to Joe. The crowd erupted in cheers as the two combatants returned to their corners.
Joe took the hand in good humour, regaining his posture and bowing to Nakano out of thanks.
However, the audience went quiet as the next round began, in anticipation of seeing how it would play out as Joe and Nakano made their opening moves, with a crescendo as quarterstaff met tachi once more. Joe made a few clumsy lunges that Nakano deftly met with a riposte until he tripped onto the floor, one of his shoulder guards breaking off, but managing to roll out of the way just before the tachi could follow him to the ground. Joe raised himself up while Nakano brought the tachi back around to continue the fight.
Joe seemed to think he had no chance as it was now his turn to attempt to block Nakano's flurry of blows, each of his barely-deflecting strikes coming in haphazardly as the crowd cheered at the combat. Unlucky Joe had managed to throw back Takeshi's assault for a brief reprieve before he made another clumsy lunge, simply spearing his weapon into the floor as Nakano swiped it down, cutting the end of the quarterstaff short as she pivoted to finish the round.
Joe, having regained the weapon, made a move to flip the pole to it's undamaged end, mishandling it in the process and almost dropping it, with Nakano coming to strike him in his exposed arm as it reached to control the weapon. The tired Nakano prepared to finish the match as she felt a tingling sensation on her waist. Joe had made a connecting strike.
The crowd erupted for the second time, as the pair exchanged pleasantries again, and returned to their corners for the final round.
Nakano shook her head, gulping down some fresh water and closing her eyes for a moment to clear her mind again. She waved her sword in a couple of lazy motions, feeling the flow of it as she waited for Joe to acquire a replacement staff.
She stepped back into the ring. She drew back into a ready position, waiting for Joe to approach, and approach he did. She did not even react to his first feint, a thrust at her head, but waited for the harder lunge towards her midriff. With blinding speed she whipped her sword around, stepping close and barging Joe with her shoulder before stepping past him and swinging at his back. Joe turned and managed to get his staff up in time, catching the sword so close that he could hear the hum from the inhibitor on its blade.
Nakano swept a foot forwards, catching the back of Joe's shin, and he tumbled, managing to turn it into a roll that avoided her follow-up strike. He kept going backwards, threatening to gain crucial distance with his longer weapon, and she rushed after him, springing into an attack that saw her strike down onto his shoulder even as he braced the staff against her. She felt the hit and tingle on her waist again as the staff glanced against her side, but her blow had connected first and for a split second she was elated, until she landed. Her foot slipped in a crack between the flagstones and she tumbled awkwardly, the crack audible to everyone in the audience. Biting back a scream of pain, she rolled onto her back and reached down to cradle her broken ankle even as medics rushed onto the arena for the second time.
The audience murmured appreciatively. She had taken a great risk to ensure victory, and even though Unlucky Joe had responded with incredible speed and nearly swatted her down mid-jump, she had landed the final blow.
Unfortunately, it was not enough. Her ankle was broken, rendering her unfit to compete. After standing by the stricken combatant for a moment, murmuring with one of the medics behind his fan, Chien-Po crossed to the Hastrax fighter, raising a hand for silence.
"Minasama! Athough Nakano Takeshi struck the final blow, she has been injured too severely to continue in this tournament. In light of the close nature of their duel, and the fact that Takeshi was unable to land her strike without avoiding Unlucky Joe's riposte, both she and I deem it fitting that Unlucky Joe advance to the finals!"
There were mixed cheers and boos, but mostly cheers both for the plucky foreigner and for the good sportsmanship displayed by Nakano. She was helped off the arena to applause, offering a shrug and a smile to Joe as she went.
"There will be a ten minute interval for our fighters to recover and prepare - please be back in your seats on the hour! And ah.." here he glanced down at a note he had on his Holo "for a limited time only, Juice & Naps are offering two shillings off any Dinoburger Combo." the last part said with a barely-disguised weariness.
Joe had made sure Nakano was alright, before taking a break he sorely needed. He had positively no idea how he had managed it as his spare quarterstaff and the reattached shoulder guard on his armour were taken back up as he steeled himself to fight an opponent who had managed to do serious damage to their adversary. Joe rather preferred his bones not broken.
"The final, between Unlucky Joe and Rosco, is about to begin for your entertainment and the conclusion to our tournament here."
And so, the crowd cheered as Rosco and Joe met out in their corners, made their bows to Chien-Po and each other, and awaited the announcement for the fight to begin. Joe had more nerves after having seen Rosco send Anya to hospital along with a medical team, while Rosco seemed to think after Joe's uncharacteristic spate of luck against Nakano that he must be hiding something. The crowd cheered as everyone awaited those agonising seconds for the combatants to meet as they moved to meet each other.
Rosco kept himself guarded, while Joe approached somewhat timidly before making a lunging strike which Rosco struck aside. Joe struggled to break the guard of Rosco with follow-throughs, while Rosco put his weight behind a single strike that launched Joe backwards and off balance despite his clumsy attempt to deflect it. However, Rosco coming in to finish the round with another strike pounded the dirt as Joe managed to throw himself aside, striking Rosco's back as the perhaps not-so-unlucky made a sideswipe into him.
The tension, and the fear, between the two could be felt as the crowd cheered and they returned to their corners.
Unlucky Joe couldn't help but notice his opponent visibly shaking from across the arena.
Rosco spilled more of his water than he drunk as they awaited the second round, wavering thoughts filling his head. Surely Joe was hiding unseen power. Was this stranger some kind of clairvoyant? A telepath that remained unknown simply by willing it? He shook his head and readied for the next round. If Joe could see his moves coming, Rosco would change them.
At the starting signal, Rosco completely forewent his previous strategy, practically leaping across the arena to reach Unlucky Joe in four lunges. The smaller combatant yelped in surprise, raising his staff just in time to block a shattering haymaker from his left. The muted force and increasing shock twisted his positioning, perfectly timing another block from the right. Then his left. Right again and back to left as Rosco relentlessly barraged the hapless human with powerful jabs of his blades.
There was almost a nice rhythm created from the buzz of electricity and the tang of metal as the ceaseless assault continued. This time was a clear bout of stamina, as Rosco only let up when Joe stumbled or tripped over an unseen stone, believing these stumbles to be his secret power activating. Only when his opponent shakily readied his staff again did Rosco resume pummeling, on and on until finally, Joe had enough, and pulled his trump card.
Dropping his staff and throwing his hands in the air, he shouted "Cease!" Mere milliseconds before Rosco's clenched fist would have connected with his face. Instead, it fell short and passed along a less than healthy jolt of electricity to the poor man's nose.
A mix of cheers drowned out by boos erupted from the crowd as Joe reeled as he believed his nose to be broken. Rosco both looked and felt shameful for the first time since his arrival, being booed and hushed away as he tried to console his opponent.
Joe had dispensed with his armour in all but breastplate this time, it had suffered badly in the fighting and was now more of a hindrance, but he kept the breastplate to protect his vitals at the very least. Rosco stood, perhaps wondering if he had gone too far, but also knowing that victory was only one concession away.
"This is the final round, either Joe or Rosco will walk away from this victorious! Let's raise the roof as they make their final fight!"
The crowd cheered loudly in anticipation before a cold silence descended, everyone watching and waiting as they paced toward each other - Rosco and Joe knowing that the title rested upon this.
Sparks of electricity between weapons flew as they clashed once again, Joe keeping a strong guard against another furious onslaught from Rosco, varying his positioning to try and avoid being pinned like he had in the previous round. Rosco had put less strength into it this time, the sluggishness catching up to him as the exertion of the previous round caught up to him. He was not the only one as Joe managed to trip and barely block a strike from Rosco as it split his staff in half.
Rosco recoilled, once again scared of Joe's imaginary power, only to see his mistake as Joe picked himself up and came in with a flurry of the two halves of the staff, alternating between the two as the unintentional pair of weapons struck against Rosco's guard again and again and again and again - until Rosco failed to catch one of the strikes.
The crackle of an electric field signalled the end of the bout much like it had begun as one of Joe's pole halves spun across the arena after connecting with Rosco's jaw; the weapon had slipped from Joe's grip. Rosco was not physically injured, but the shock of being hit knocked him onto his back. Joe, having barely been able to continue the fight now dropped the remaining half of his weapon and sunk onto his knees. He was exhausted himself.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Rosco was pitched to the floor. The Ingenious were always fans of an underdog story and Unlucky Joe's unlikely ascendancy was a thrilling end to the competition.
Chien-Po crossed over to the champion, as attendants hurried Rosco off the arena.
"Minasamaaa!" he called out enthusiastically, his voice bouncing off the nearby walls, "We have a victor! 'Unlucky' Joe of Hastrax has a turn of good fortune and is our champion!"
The cheers and applause swelled again as Joe was ushered up to Daimyo Toshi's dais. In a light, crisp robe of rich purple, her onibi glinted even in the bright sunlight and she offered a warm smile.
In nearly flawless Common, she spoke a few words to Joe. "Congratulations, champion. We are honoured to name you Hasha of the first Kentakitai here on Sanrin. Please, accept this gift."
An attendant stepped forwards. He held out a straight-backed dao sword, scabbarded in red with gold lacquer. The pommel was styled after a snarling raptor, with a tassel of red silk hanging from it. When drawn, the blade was of a clear red crystalline glass which glittered as it caught the light.
"I apologise I do not have more to say, but I am speechless." Joe had not expected to win, but here he was. "That is one of the finest gifts I have ever seen. I thank you deeply. I can only hope that those combatants that suffered injuries will make a recovery and have their own celebration, they deserve cheers too. It was a close fight and it could very well have been them standing here." Joe gingerly lifted the sword he had been given into the air. "I am honoured to be here, as the champion, but now let us all celebrate the efforts both of the combatants and the Ingenious organisers, I'm sure there is much more for us all to enjoy."
After her rather brutal battle with Rosco, Anya was brought to the med-bay to be treated for her bone fractures. If they were simply broken it would have been an easy fix and she would have left already but sadly it was not that easy. The places where her bones broke actually shattered, leading to her needing surgery to remove the loose splinters. It wasn't her first time falling from grace like this but to be pushed down with such force and without a safety net was new to her and she definitively considered this the most pain she had to endure in her life. Her drug induced haze did help in making time pass by faster but all things must come to an end. After a while the chemicals her own body pumped into her in response to the trauma faded and her mind became clear once more. "Damn... damn..." She murmured to herself as her brain become sober again.
Being bored and waiting for her moment to enter the operating room she tumbled around a bit to see who else is with her in the room. Anya heard someone enter earlier but due to her drug induced state she could not clearly remember who. After asking someone to help her move upright in her bed she could finally see who else entered the med bay. "Oh hey... you are Nakano right?" Anya said to fill the void of silence with something as she looked at the jade combatant who entered with the messed up ankle. A few tumbles and shuffles later Anya sat comfortably after moving her wings out of the way. "You got messed up too huh? Was it Rosco as well?"
Outside, Chien-Po raised his hands to encourage the crowd to applaud once more, whilst Toshi just smiled and nodded politely at the champion. Attendants began to move benches onto the arena for the combatants, their crews, and certain privileged guests. The tables were piled high with food and drink, and a Yokeneko band began to play cheerful music.
Inside, Nakano glanced over and shook her head.
"No, believe it or not I did this to myself. Lunged too hard and fell over, like an idiot. Lost to Unlucky Joe and you know what? He only went and won. He's the new champ!"
She said this with a chuckle, whether at Joe or herself it was hard to tell.
"How are you doing?" she asked, looking at the sorry state of Anya's wings. Jade medicine was fairly advanced, and Anya had been hooked up to a 'Decanter' which provided all the material nutrients needed to physically rebuild, as well as carefully-researched hormones that would encourage the regrowth, but it would still be a painful process.
“Unlucky Joe won?” Anya didn’t sound or look very surprised, maybe it’s the fact that in her current state she did not really feel like showing a lot of emotions beside pain and discomfort. “Then that means...” Anya had a soft chuckle but stopped quickly “that means Rosco did not win.” A soft smug expression appeared on Anya’s face, feeling as if some karmic justice was passed down.
Anya once again moved a bit in the bed to try and get comfortable but her wings are simply getting in the way. Normally she would lie face down but Anya currently had no choice in the matter. “I am doing fine... kinda.. it could have been a lot worse. No idea if I can walk away from this today or if it needs some more time.”
Joe bowed respectfully, before taking his leave. He had plenty of food to enjoy, but eventually made his way over to the medical wing to see how his fellow competitors were doing after their injuries, while the crowds partied on outside.
"Are the both of you recovering alright?" He posed as he saw the pair. "It didn't look good seeing either of you hurting yourselves in a nonlethal tournament like that."
The same gill-necked man from the bar ducked into the room shortly after Joe. He held a small stack of documents, some which matched the hospitals and some foreign.
"Please forgive the intrusion," he said with a nervous tic. "But I may be leaving soon and cannot help but feel responsible for my student's actions today. I wish only to offer both my condolences and restitution for Rosco's behavior."
He set the documents down where Anya could easily read them. The first few were instructions with a partially filled invoice to the medical department, signed off to be charged to Rosco's handler. The foreign pages were essentially a detailed blank check for which Anya could make demands of him and by extension the Annoliddans' Public Relations and Outreach group.
"Please, ask of us anything you wish, and I will secure it for you." He bowed to Anya and Nakano, and deeply to Joe. "Champion," he solemnly said before taking his leave.
Anya noticeably perked up when she saw Joe enter the medbay to check up on them. She spoke with a rather cheery tone in contrast to her actual bodily state.
“Oh hey Joe! Congratulations on your victory. I am doing fine honestly. My pain suppression really made it not so bad.” She smiled at him to convince Joe of the fact she was doing alright.
Anya would have continued assuring Joe she was doing fine but then Rosco’s mentor came in with that pile of papers. She let him finish talking and leave. Giving him simply a polite nod back as he bowed to them. Only once he was out of earshot did she speak again. Well, she started giggling as she looked at the pile of papers
“This is hilarious. No tarot card would have predicted this. They are acting like I didn’t know I could get hurt in a freaking fighting tournament!” Anya’s giggle slowly turned to soft laughter she could barely control. Only after feeling some pain in her chest did she stop.
The fighters stayed for another week or so, recuperating and taking part in interviews and photo ops. Unlucky Joe was offered a one-off commercial deal with Juice & Naps, whilst even Rosco enjoyed some popularity among the counter-culture in Ingen who thought swordfighting and martial tournaments were outdated and ridiculous.
After healing up and enjoying their fame, as even the other three had still made it to the semi-finals of the tournament, they eventually went on their separate ways, with open invitations to return to Jade territory and the potential for further sporting events and all the opportunities that came with them.
The Ōgonshoku Katsumoto Kinen Kentaikai To-Omatsuri, or "Golden Katsumoto Memorial Swordfighting Tournament And Festival", was a new event. Designed in the style of the great tournaments of Laptev and Neusattar, Daimyo Toshi knew that it would not rival their scale or splendour quite yet, but it was important to uphold Imperial tradition, especially in the more remote corners of the Jade Empire.
Eight combatants had qualified for the tournament, including one warrior from the Jade Empire itself. With a grand prize of ¥100,000 and a custom-forged hikatana, it had drawn combatants from across the Ancerious Galaxy, which was good.
The combatants were housed in the Western Complex, a series of guest suites and outbuildings nestled in the corner of the defensive walls at the western end of the Castle Grounds. In the central yard a paved area had been cleared out and surrounded by benches and observation towers, silver chains decorated with bells and ribbons marking out the duel space. A stand of blossoming cherry trees stood to the east, whilst around the whole area ran a crystal-clear stream with smooth pebbles along its bed, flanked by willows, reeds and flowers. A pool filled with elegant fish lay to the north of the area, whilst a larger building contained a restaurant that had been reserved for the combatants and their support teams, who had been provided private shuttles from the spaceport in the east of the city.
Toshi had let Chien-Po, one of her more well-fed senior clerks, handle the day-to-day. She would meet the combatants during the opening ceremonies, but for now the chubby and moustachioed Chien-Po would be on-hand to answer their questions and attend to their needs with his courtly, discrete manner.
Nakano Takeshi, the Jade combatant, was already sipping a mango beer at the bar. At only 5"2, she seemed diminutive, her legs swinging from the tall barstool as she waited for the others to arrive...
Joe was not a lucky man, and he had a reputation for it. He had decided to try and prove he was good at something for once by joining the tournament and so after many, many, many delayed and cancelled spaceships on the way, he had finally arrived at what he hoped was the right place.
He took a moment to observe the beauty of the castle despite people constantly walking past what he was looking at and obscuring his vision. After getting the correct directions from Chien-Po, getting lost and having to retrace his steps several times, and dropping off his baggage in his room, he made it to the bar, where he sat in a corner seat having ordered a glass of water. To anyone else, he probably looked like some average spectator that had wandered into the wrong bar rather than a combatant.
The travelling circus by the name of the Pearl Star has always been a bit of an odd thing around local space. It’s filled with all kinds of genetic freaks who use their modified bodies to be able to perform great feats of entertainment. From clowns whose bones would bend like rubber to allow all kinds of slapstick, to many limbed dancers that encapsulated crowds with their strange movements. The circus was doing pretty good business on novelty alone and money was rolling in steadily.
Well it’s a fortunate surprise then that the travelers happened to pass by local space while the tournament was happening. The manager of the circus decided to give all his performers and employees a well deserved break to join in the festivities and spend the money they earned travelling the stars.
Well her colleagues were heading out to enjoy themselves an acrobat by the name of Anya Bradley had a different plan. She was on her way to participate in the tournament. It’s not for the money, or the fame... ok, maybe a little bit about the fame but mostly it was for her own enjoyment.
Like all the other fighters she went down to the castle where she greeted Chien-Po and was accompanied to her room to drop of her stuff, after which she went to the bar for socialising. Anya stepped inside the bar and looked around for a bit. She was a rather tall woman, standing at 7 feet. But the thing that no doubt would grab the most attention were her wings. They were currently folded behind her back to make her not take up as much space. Black Raven wings they were, with a cute little birdtail poking out. Anya was wearing colourful and rather messy robes, held together with countless straps to prevent it from falling away at an inopportune time. They were emblazoned with various spiralling patterns made from gold. She wore no shoes but simple strong cloth wrapped around her feet instead, purely for keeping out dirt and glass.
Her hair was tied into 2 large braids on each side of her head that went along to side to the back of her head where they merged together and were held in place with a great big silver pin in the shape of a butterfly. Her facial features were remarkably soft but here eyes were a piercing bright orange.
Anya made her way over to the bar, she didn’t sit down on any of the stools, it was not her style. She ordered some tea for herself and looked to the other fighters as she sipped her drink. Staying quiet for now*
Johan however was different. He joined the tournament a bit on impulse rather then thinking it through but the money made it too appealing to back down now. Travelling constantly he also took the opportunity to take as much advantage of the accommodations as possible. Maybe a bit too much actually. Eventually he got himself situated in the bar as well, a few minutes after Anya entered. He was of average height but a rather wide and strong build. Notable were the countless tribal tattoos all over his body. The language some of the tattoos were written in was not recognisable.
A pointy-eared and gill-necked figure ducked into the bar. He remained hunched down, presumably out of practice to avoid hitting any hanging fixtures, as he approached the counter. He straightened to a full 3 meters and regarded the bartender, ordering two of the stronger drinks with a sharp accent and sharper teeth. With laced fingers behind his back he less than subtly surveyed the room while waiting. Those who glared back would see the patchwork of scars jutting out from under the edges of his three-piece suit and barely hidden under the short silver hair atop his head. Some were apparently battle scars long since healed, but others were far too surgical to blend in.
He thanked the bartender, payed his short tab with a moderate tip, and promptly headed back the way he came. Out in the open air, he saw Chien-Po over the yard heading from the northern end of the complex, signalling him to check there for his student.
Rosco sat cross-legged at the edge of a pool filled with beautiful fish, his eyes drooping half open as he watched the creatures move about their tranquil space. His old master sat down next to him, appearing equal in height but not even half the width of the genetic slab nicknamed after a concrete reservoir blocker. Jet black hair fell loosely over Rosco's blue yukata, fitting for his casual demeanor for the day. He accepted one of the drinks, and their brief direct contact relayed his master's short memory of the bar and those within. He smiled, sizing them all up in his head, and drank deeply.
The next morning, the first of the fights was set to take place between Anya and Rosco. Their weapons had been fitted with lightweight pulse inhibitors that generated a protective field which, when it contacted solid matter, would convert the kinetic energy of the weapon into an electric charge which would be instead used to temporarily stun and numb the contacted area. This not only prevented injury to the combatants, but also allowed them to precisely determine if contact had been made to within a quarter-inch.
The combat arena was unchanged, a wide flagstoned area surrounded by benches and roped off by chains with bells and ribbons for visibility. Already a crowd had gathered, enjoying the refreshments sold by various vendors such as Calliocanthus shishkebobs, candied fruit and nuts, pizza slices and more. Nakano watched from the eaves of the restaurant, whilst on a canopied dais Daimyo Toshi watched with interest.
Chien-Po gestured for the two warriors to approach in the middle.
"Remember, this is a civilised display. First blood results in an immediate cessation and a default round win. You will fight three rounds against one another, with weapon contact to the head or torso required to claim a round win. At any time, you may drop your weapon and call out "Cease to concede the round.
Now, please bow to one another, then display your weapons of choice for the crowd and retire to your corners. "
Anya entered the arena while performing a cartwheel which led into a sideward 360 salto that then proceeded to turn into a handstand which she moved on from by performing a headspring and then she landed onto her 2 feet proper. She did a little bow as she landed towards the crowd and then bowed to her opponent in front of her.
For this occasion she wore her standard circus uniform consisting of a skintight 2 piece set of clothing, no shoes, just tight footwraps and once again her long hair was tightly bound into braids. Her wings were held close to her body as moving them out would change her centre of gravity too much to perform ground based acrobatics reliably. Instead of any weapons she simply raised her leg straight into the air to show that she strapped the inhibitors on her feet, she also has the inhibitors on her knuckles as well. Last thing to note is that her acrobatic uniform is absolutely dazzling, its not a flat colour, instead it’s a stylised depictions of a galaxy. Countless dots of white, blue, orange and red representing stars mixed with bright nebula. The patterns almost seemed to be moving with her as she performed her graceful acrobatics.
“We almost seem like opposites.”
Anya whispered to herself as she lowered her leg back to the ground after which she turned around to walk to her corner of the arena. While walking back she stretched her raven black wings a bit, no doubt she would have to use every bit of agility she had, one good hit on her and it’s over. Anya was nervous, she kept quiet and to herself as her mind raced with thoughts. She really thought it would be some harmless fun but the realisation dawned on her that she was actually going to fight someone else, her hand shook as began to carefully control her breaths to calm down. ”it’s normal” Anya thought ”you always get nervous when trying something new.” this calmed her a bit. After she moved to her corner a very sharp perfume smell would still linger where she stood a moment ago.
Rosco entered from the opposite side of the arena, marching at a steady pace to the center. He waved widely to the onlooking crowd to his left, then his right, flashing a toothy grin each time. The Dam knew most of the cheers were for his far more dazzling opponent, but this did little to curb his enthusiasm; he was just delighted to have an opportunity like this one. He bowed deeply with genuine respect to the performer, though the snarky grin betrayed his thoughts of the coming fight.
He wore comparatively less than Anya, sporting light grey drawstring trousers a few shades brighter than Rosco's own skin and a heavily worn black belt. What could be mistaken as tribal tattoos from a distance were in fact a multitude of scars lining his entire upper half. Unlike his elderly counterpart awaiting outside the arena, none of these looked to be inflicted by wounds, but instead surgical markings revealing just how far along the Dam had taken to modifying his form. Rosco raised his arms in an X across his chest, showing in full view the arm blades he would be using today. They were attached by bracers midway down his forearms, extending twice their length starting from the elbows. The overall design of the curved blades suggested a sharpened edge and point, but it was blunted by inhibitors along the edge as per the rules. Similar nodules marked the bottom of his palms and ran along his knuckles, his secondary 'weapons' made obvious.
Rosco pivoted to return back to his corner, brandishing a more confident if not cocky gait as he did. He slammed and scraped the broad sides of the blades together a few times hoping for a reaction from the crowd, and loving the electrical sparks it produced himself. He inhaled deeply the sickly sweet scents around him, his mind clearing of little else as he settled in for the match to begin.
At the signal, the first round began, and the combatants engaged.
Each darted to meet in the center, Rosco keeping his arms outstretched and Anya darting in low. They tracked each others more subtle movements as they drew close, but Anya's speed proved faster than Rosco's relfexes could match. She quickly, and to quite the spectacle of the crowd, took a flying, dancing leap over the Dam, flowing into a twirling kick behind him. Rosco was slow, but not so slow as to end it here, only barely blocking the attack from hitting his torso with an elbow jab to match it.
There came a crackling as the inhibitors absorbed the combined impacts, the blow turning to electric charge as it coursed through the Annoliddan. It seemed however that his race's critical weakness - a fatal vulnerability to electricity due to the nature of their telepathy - was no longer present in Rosco's nerves. Rosco let the surge pass through his musculature, forcing Anya to withdraw in a flourish lest Rosco's wide-sweeping armblade hit its mark.
The round continued in a cyclical pattern: Anya closing in, using her superior maneuverability and speed to get around Rosco's extra reach, but never managing to land a lasting hit to bring down the Dam before he retaliated. Eventually, their came a golden opportunity. Distracting with a sidelong blow from her tail, Anya took to the air, surprising both the crowd and her opponent by striking from directly above him. Now she had an impressive lock on his head, but at a startling cost; as much as she had a clear strike at her opponent, so too did Rosco. Instead of dealing the finishing blow, her arms were busy blocking the armblades from striking her torso, and though they did not cut, the inhibitors fed a constant stream of shock through her as Rosco put more pressure on them.
Eventually, Anya conceded. Not verbally, but instead giving in as the blades slipped from her grasp and made contact before she could land a finishing blow to Rosco's head.
After a minute to recover between rounds the signal was given for the second round to begin and the 2 combatants moved back to the centre.
Rosco and Anya once more closed the distance to engage. Rosco had his arms raised to guard his chest and head which made Anya circle him to wait for an opening. Eventually she closed the distance by running at him straight ahead. Rosco broke his guards to strike at Anya’s head as she approached but Anya ducked down underneath his arms. Not breaking momentum she extended her arms to tackle Rosco by the leg and knock him of balance. She knew exactly how to move his legs to make him stumble and fall with just a push.
Rosco was therefore knocked of balance and almost fell to the ground but recovered. However this little moment of stumbling and recovering was enough for Anya to turn around and flying kick him in the back of his knee to get him on the floor proper. After learning her lesson from last time she kept her body far away from his claw blades and instead decided to do a frontflip and hit his face with both her feet as she landed down to earth. Normally this would break a nose and several teeth but the disrupters instead gave of quite a shock.
With this obvious hit to the head the round was decided in Anya’s favour, not as stylish as her previous attempt but she had to tone it down in order to not make herself too obvious a target.
The final round began a minute later, the cheers of the crowd hushing themselves in anticipation.
The combatants met slightly off center than their previous matches, as Rosco made little initiative to attack Anya. he was keeping his arms very close, tucked in with elbows behind. There he showed a remarkable degree of flexibility for his size, simply twisting them in place to block Anya's growing assault. The one exception to this was whenever she went for his legs like the last round, responding instead with a furious barrage of jabs to drive her off.
The morning sun was making its march into the sky. Three minutes had passed and the fight showed no signs of nearing a close. Rosco refused to deviate from his defense and Anya's showmanship was blended beautifully with a mix of martial focus and frenzied determination. Her aerial movements kept driving the larger combatant around the ring in a bid to maintain his stance, while her acrobatics left little room for error each time an attack approached. Here Rosco's own reflexes worked against him, his body constantly tensed and flinching against Anya's slightest move in case of another feigned attack or follow through. Meanwhile, Anya was free to take her time; her light, flowing movements by comparison and the cheers and chants of the crowd granted a rousing burst of energy whenever she began to feel strained.
Six minutes in, Rosco slipped. He had been panting for awhile now, struggling to maintain the defense for much longer as he was. Anya surged as he fell to one knee, darting to and fro her opponent to keep the pressure on. All that was left was the final blow, a cartwheel leading into a direct hit upon Rosco's exposed chest. Victory in sights, she began the maneuver...
And only got halfway. Rosco's breath had steadied, for only a mere moment, but long enough to focus in and catch her tail midflight. Her momentum stopped, and as his muscles tensed to move, both fighters came to a sudden realization.
Only their weapons had inhibitors; the arena floor did not.
With a flick of his wrist, Rosco swung, moving Anya’s spine like a whip, complete with a resounding crack against the stones. He had not connected the dots to tell him she had hollow bones, but the sickly crunches that followed were evidence enough. He stood as a morbid silence fell over the crowd, and gently pressed the tip of his blade against his fallen opponent to declare the match over. A small, albeit meaningless mercy in comparison.
As Anya hit the ground on her back very hard, she had a massive ”oh shit” expression on her face as her various bones snapped and cracked. A spinal fracture and her elbow joints were bent backwards as she tried to break her fall. She does not look to be in pain of any sort, there is just a very shocked expression on her face combined with hazy eyes. Luckily her gene mods kicked in to suppress the pain by flooding her brain with various chemicals. Although the severity of the pain meant that she was basically high of her own supply of pain suppressants. It’s was not an uncommon feeling to her, acrobatic practice never went 100% perfect every time.
As the battle came to a close she just laid there on her back looking at the sky. Eventually the tournament organisers would rush in to take her away into the hospital after seeing her not stand up after a while.
There was a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd as the fight came to a close. Almost immediately, attendants hurried forwards, followed by Chien-Po. A scrum of medics surrounded Anya, loading her carefully onto a litter and carrying her away.
The tubby official drew close to Rosco, a smile frozen on his face. His expression never changing, he whispered through his teeth. "Another stunt like that and you will be arrested. This is a civilised event and you will not disturb that."
Offering a shallow bow, he turned to the crowds, gesturing voluminously to Rosco.
"Minasama, your semi-finals victor, Rosco of the Annoliddan Inquisition!"
There was more applause, although not everyone in the stands cheered. Chien-Po gestured for Rosco to leave the arena, and then waited for the attendants to finish clearing up around him.
"Next, our very own Nakano Takeshi will face 'Unlucky Joe' of Hastrax!"
Nakano stepped into the ring. She was dressed in a suit of older-style o-yoroi armour, made of plates of glittering teal crystal-glass that many would recognise as vitredur. She wore no mempo mask, her glowing ivory-and-jade face visible beneath a helmet crowned by two spiralling horns of uneven length. At her side she carried a long sword, a curving tachi blade of the same teal crystal as her armour, its elegant lines marred by the contact regulators along the cutting edge.
Despite being small, she cut an impressive figure as she walked with the elegance of one who treats swordplay as an art or a sport. Reaching the centre, she bowed to Chien-Po before waiting for Unlucky Joe, to whom she would also bow and offer a polite smile. The crowd cheered wildly, obviously favouring the home team, and some even threw cherry blossoms.
Joe was slowly walking in from the other side of the arena, stumbling slightly on an errant srone as he entered. Unlike Nakano in her fancy ornate armour, Joe was wearing a very beat up set of armour that he had put together himself from various metal items that had clearly suffered while being transported here, not that it was particularly well made in the first place. His weapon could be optimistically described as a quarterstaff, and in fact the regulators that had been put on for the match probably increased it's ability to do damage.
Unlucky Joe stood where he was intended, before offering nervous bows to both Chien-Po and Nakano. He wasn't really expecting applause or enthusiasm and indeed the crowd was probably more shocked that he actually intended to fight. Nevertheless, he stood, smiling slightly, without any particular flourish, other than managing to drop his weapon in a feat of clumsiness, stooping to pick it back up.
Nakano felt almost ashamed, as if she had been sent this opponent to mock her. He was clearly out of place, but as the combat started a lunge from his quarterstaff nearly connected with her face, only a spry step back keeping her in the game. The audience grew louder, some booing but others cheering in appreciation of what seemed to be a canny and unexpected move from the foreigner that had nearly ended the round early.
Nakano focused, sweeping the thoughts from her mind. His next lunge came for her legs and she parried from the second position, sweeping her sword from right to left before levelling it out and hacking forwards at his neck with a slashing blow back the other way. Unlucky Joe managed to stumble aside, avoiding the blow and bringing his own weapon around in a wild haymaker from Nakano's left.
Nakano pivoted on her left foot, blocking it low in the first position and then lunging forwards. The field at the tip of her tachi crashed with an electrical spark against Joe's breastplate and he was thrown onto his back.
She regained her posture, then sheathed her sword and extended a hand to Joe. The crowd erupted in cheers as the two combatants returned to their corners.
Joe took the hand in good humour, regaining his posture and bowing to Nakano out of thanks.
However, the audience went quiet as the next round began, in anticipation of seeing how it would play out as Joe and Nakano made their opening moves, with a crescendo as quarterstaff met tachi once more. Joe made a few clumsy lunges that Nakano deftly met with a riposte until he tripped onto the floor, one of his shoulder guards breaking off, but managing to roll out of the way just before the tachi could follow him to the ground. Joe raised himself up while Nakano brought the tachi back around to continue the fight.
Joe seemed to think he had no chance as it was now his turn to attempt to block Nakano's flurry of blows, each of his barely-deflecting strikes coming in haphazardly as the crowd cheered at the combat. Unlucky Joe had managed to throw back Takeshi's assault for a brief reprieve before he made another clumsy lunge, simply spearing his weapon into the floor as Nakano swiped it down, cutting the end of the quarterstaff short as she pivoted to finish the round.
Joe, having regained the weapon, made a move to flip the pole to it's undamaged end, mishandling it in the process and almost dropping it, with Nakano coming to strike him in his exposed arm as it reached to control the weapon. The tired Nakano prepared to finish the match as she felt a tingling sensation on her waist. Joe had made a connecting strike.
The crowd erupted for the second time, as the pair exchanged pleasantries again, and returned to their corners for the final round.
Nakano shook her head, gulping down some fresh water and closing her eyes for a moment to clear her mind again. She waved her sword in a couple of lazy motions, feeling the flow of it as she waited for Joe to acquire a replacement staff.
She stepped back into the ring. She drew back into a ready position, waiting for Joe to approach, and approach he did. She did not even react to his first feint, a thrust at her head, but waited for the harder lunge towards her midriff. With blinding speed she whipped her sword around, stepping close and barging Joe with her shoulder before stepping past him and swinging at his back. Joe turned and managed to get his staff up in time, catching the sword so close that he could hear the hum from the inhibitor on its blade.
Nakano swept a foot forwards, catching the back of Joe's shin, and he tumbled, managing to turn it into a roll that avoided her follow-up strike. He kept going backwards, threatening to gain crucial distance with his longer weapon, and she rushed after him, springing into an attack that saw her strike down onto his shoulder even as he braced the staff against her. She felt the hit and tingle on her waist again as the staff glanced against her side, but her blow had connected first and for a split second she was elated, until she landed. Her foot slipped in a crack between the flagstones and she tumbled awkwardly, the crack audible to everyone in the audience. Biting back a scream of pain, she rolled onto her back and reached down to cradle her broken ankle even as medics rushed onto the arena for the second time.
The audience murmured appreciatively. She had taken a great risk to ensure victory, and even though Unlucky Joe had responded with incredible speed and nearly swatted her down mid-jump, she had landed the final blow.
Unfortunately, it was not enough. Her ankle was broken, rendering her unfit to compete. After standing by the stricken combatant for a moment, murmuring with one of the medics behind his fan, Chien-Po crossed to the Hastrax fighter, raising a hand for silence.
"Minasama! Athough Nakano Takeshi struck the final blow, she has been injured too severely to continue in this tournament. In light of the close nature of their duel, and the fact that Takeshi was unable to land her strike without avoiding Unlucky Joe's riposte, both she and I deem it fitting that Unlucky Joe advance to the finals!"
There were mixed cheers and boos, but mostly cheers both for the plucky foreigner and for the good sportsmanship displayed by Nakano. She was helped off the arena to applause, offering a shrug and a smile to Joe as she went.
"There will be a ten minute interval for our fighters to recover and prepare - please be back in your seats on the hour! And ah.." here he glanced down at a note he had on his Holo "for a limited time only, Juice & Naps are offering two shillings off any Dinoburger Combo." the last part said with a barely-disguised weariness.
Joe had made sure Nakano was alright, before taking a break he sorely needed. He had positively no idea how he had managed it as his spare quarterstaff and the reattached shoulder guard on his armour were taken back up as he steeled himself to fight an opponent who had managed to do serious damage to their adversary. Joe rather preferred his bones not broken.
"The final, between Unlucky Joe and Rosco, is about to begin for your entertainment and the conclusion to our tournament here."
And so, the crowd cheered as Rosco and Joe met out in their corners, made their bows to Chien-Po and each other, and awaited the announcement for the fight to begin. Joe had more nerves after having seen Rosco send Anya to hospital along with a medical team, while Rosco seemed to think after Joe's uncharacteristic spate of luck against Nakano that he must be hiding something. The crowd cheered as everyone awaited those agonising seconds for the combatants to meet as they moved to meet each other.
Rosco kept himself guarded, while Joe approached somewhat timidly before making a lunging strike which Rosco struck aside. Joe struggled to break the guard of Rosco with follow-throughs, while Rosco put his weight behind a single strike that launched Joe backwards and off balance despite his clumsy attempt to deflect it. However, Rosco coming in to finish the round with another strike pounded the dirt as Joe managed to throw himself aside, striking Rosco's back as the perhaps not-so-unlucky made a sideswipe into him.
The tension, and the fear, between the two could be felt as the crowd cheered and they returned to their corners.
Unlucky Joe couldn't help but notice his opponent visibly shaking from across the arena.
Rosco spilled more of his water than he drunk as they awaited the second round, wavering thoughts filling his head. Surely Joe was hiding unseen power. Was this stranger some kind of clairvoyant? A telepath that remained unknown simply by willing it? He shook his head and readied for the next round. If Joe could see his moves coming, Rosco would change them.
At the starting signal, Rosco completely forewent his previous strategy, practically leaping across the arena to reach Unlucky Joe in four lunges. The smaller combatant yelped in surprise, raising his staff just in time to block a shattering haymaker from his left. The muted force and increasing shock twisted his positioning, perfectly timing another block from the right. Then his left. Right again and back to left as Rosco relentlessly barraged the hapless human with powerful jabs of his blades.
There was almost a nice rhythm created from the buzz of electricity and the tang of metal as the ceaseless assault continued. This time was a clear bout of stamina, as Rosco only let up when Joe stumbled or tripped over an unseen stone, believing these stumbles to be his secret power activating. Only when his opponent shakily readied his staff again did Rosco resume pummeling, on and on until finally, Joe had enough, and pulled his trump card.
Dropping his staff and throwing his hands in the air, he shouted "Cease!" Mere milliseconds before Rosco's clenched fist would have connected with his face. Instead, it fell short and passed along a less than healthy jolt of electricity to the poor man's nose.
A mix of cheers drowned out by boos erupted from the crowd as Joe reeled as he believed his nose to be broken. Rosco both looked and felt shameful for the first time since his arrival, being booed and hushed away as he tried to console his opponent.
Joe had dispensed with his armour in all but breastplate this time, it had suffered badly in the fighting and was now more of a hindrance, but he kept the breastplate to protect his vitals at the very least. Rosco stood, perhaps wondering if he had gone too far, but also knowing that victory was only one concession away.
"This is the final round, either Joe or Rosco will walk away from this victorious! Let's raise the roof as they make their final fight!"
The crowd cheered loudly in anticipation before a cold silence descended, everyone watching and waiting as they paced toward each other - Rosco and Joe knowing that the title rested upon this.
Sparks of electricity between weapons flew as they clashed once again, Joe keeping a strong guard against another furious onslaught from Rosco, varying his positioning to try and avoid being pinned like he had in the previous round. Rosco had put less strength into it this time, the sluggishness catching up to him as the exertion of the previous round caught up to him. He was not the only one as Joe managed to trip and barely block a strike from Rosco as it split his staff in half.
Rosco recoilled, once again scared of Joe's imaginary power, only to see his mistake as Joe picked himself up and came in with a flurry of the two halves of the staff, alternating between the two as the unintentional pair of weapons struck against Rosco's guard again and again and again and again - until Rosco failed to catch one of the strikes.
The crackle of an electric field signalled the end of the bout much like it had begun as one of Joe's pole halves spun across the arena after connecting with Rosco's jaw; the weapon had slipped from Joe's grip. Rosco was not physically injured, but the shock of being hit knocked him onto his back. Joe, having barely been able to continue the fight now dropped the remaining half of his weapon and sunk onto his knees. He was exhausted himself.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Rosco was pitched to the floor. The Ingenious were always fans of an underdog story and Unlucky Joe's unlikely ascendancy was a thrilling end to the competition.
Chien-Po crossed over to the champion, as attendants hurried Rosco off the arena.
"Minasamaaa!" he called out enthusiastically, his voice bouncing off the nearby walls, "We have a victor! 'Unlucky' Joe of Hastrax has a turn of good fortune and is our champion!"
The cheers and applause swelled again as Joe was ushered up to Daimyo Toshi's dais. In a light, crisp robe of rich purple, her onibi glinted even in the bright sunlight and she offered a warm smile.
In nearly flawless Common, she spoke a few words to Joe. "Congratulations, champion. We are honoured to name you Hasha of the first Kentakitai here on Sanrin. Please, accept this gift."
An attendant stepped forwards. He held out a straight-backed dao sword, scabbarded in red with gold lacquer. The pommel was styled after a snarling raptor, with a tassel of red silk hanging from it. When drawn, the blade was of a clear red crystalline glass which glittered as it caught the light.
"I apologise I do not have more to say, but I am speechless." Joe had not expected to win, but here he was. "That is one of the finest gifts I have ever seen. I thank you deeply. I can only hope that those combatants that suffered injuries will make a recovery and have their own celebration, they deserve cheers too. It was a close fight and it could very well have been them standing here." Joe gingerly lifted the sword he had been given into the air. "I am honoured to be here, as the champion, but now let us all celebrate the efforts both of the combatants and the Ingenious organisers, I'm sure there is much more for us all to enjoy."
After her rather brutal battle with Rosco, Anya was brought to the med-bay to be treated for her bone fractures. If they were simply broken it would have been an easy fix and she would have left already but sadly it was not that easy. The places where her bones broke actually shattered, leading to her needing surgery to remove the loose splinters. It wasn't her first time falling from grace like this but to be pushed down with such force and without a safety net was new to her and she definitively considered this the most pain she had to endure in her life. Her drug induced haze did help in making time pass by faster but all things must come to an end. After a while the chemicals her own body pumped into her in response to the trauma faded and her mind became clear once more. "Damn... damn..." She murmured to herself as her brain become sober again.
Being bored and waiting for her moment to enter the operating room she tumbled around a bit to see who else is with her in the room. Anya heard someone enter earlier but due to her drug induced state she could not clearly remember who. After asking someone to help her move upright in her bed she could finally see who else entered the med bay. "Oh hey... you are Nakano right?" Anya said to fill the void of silence with something as she looked at the jade combatant who entered with the messed up ankle. A few tumbles and shuffles later Anya sat comfortably after moving her wings out of the way. "You got messed up too huh? Was it Rosco as well?"
Outside, Chien-Po raised his hands to encourage the crowd to applaud once more, whilst Toshi just smiled and nodded politely at the champion. Attendants began to move benches onto the arena for the combatants, their crews, and certain privileged guests. The tables were piled high with food and drink, and a Yokeneko band began to play cheerful music.
Inside, Nakano glanced over and shook her head.
"No, believe it or not I did this to myself. Lunged too hard and fell over, like an idiot. Lost to Unlucky Joe and you know what? He only went and won. He's the new champ!"
She said this with a chuckle, whether at Joe or herself it was hard to tell.
"How are you doing?" she asked, looking at the sorry state of Anya's wings. Jade medicine was fairly advanced, and Anya had been hooked up to a 'Decanter' which provided all the material nutrients needed to physically rebuild, as well as carefully-researched hormones that would encourage the regrowth, but it would still be a painful process.
“Unlucky Joe won?” Anya didn’t sound or look very surprised, maybe it’s the fact that in her current state she did not really feel like showing a lot of emotions beside pain and discomfort. “Then that means...” Anya had a soft chuckle but stopped quickly “that means Rosco did not win.” A soft smug expression appeared on Anya’s face, feeling as if some karmic justice was passed down.
Anya once again moved a bit in the bed to try and get comfortable but her wings are simply getting in the way. Normally she would lie face down but Anya currently had no choice in the matter. “I am doing fine... kinda.. it could have been a lot worse. No idea if I can walk away from this today or if it needs some more time.”
Joe bowed respectfully, before taking his leave. He had plenty of food to enjoy, but eventually made his way over to the medical wing to see how his fellow competitors were doing after their injuries, while the crowds partied on outside.
"Are the both of you recovering alright?" He posed as he saw the pair. "It didn't look good seeing either of you hurting yourselves in a nonlethal tournament like that."
The same gill-necked man from the bar ducked into the room shortly after Joe. He held a small stack of documents, some which matched the hospitals and some foreign.
"Please forgive the intrusion," he said with a nervous tic. "But I may be leaving soon and cannot help but feel responsible for my student's actions today. I wish only to offer both my condolences and restitution for Rosco's behavior."
He set the documents down where Anya could easily read them. The first few were instructions with a partially filled invoice to the medical department, signed off to be charged to Rosco's handler. The foreign pages were essentially a detailed blank check for which Anya could make demands of him and by extension the Annoliddans' Public Relations and Outreach group.
"Please, ask of us anything you wish, and I will secure it for you." He bowed to Anya and Nakano, and deeply to Joe. "Champion," he solemnly said before taking his leave.
Anya noticeably perked up when she saw Joe enter the medbay to check up on them. She spoke with a rather cheery tone in contrast to her actual bodily state.
“Oh hey Joe! Congratulations on your victory. I am doing fine honestly. My pain suppression really made it not so bad.” She smiled at him to convince Joe of the fact she was doing alright.
Anya would have continued assuring Joe she was doing fine but then Rosco’s mentor came in with that pile of papers. She let him finish talking and leave. Giving him simply a polite nod back as he bowed to them. Only once he was out of earshot did she speak again. Well, she started giggling as she looked at the pile of papers
“This is hilarious. No tarot card would have predicted this. They are acting like I didn’t know I could get hurt in a freaking fighting tournament!” Anya’s giggle slowly turned to soft laughter she could barely control. Only after feeling some pain in her chest did she stop.
The fighters stayed for another week or so, recuperating and taking part in interviews and photo ops. Unlucky Joe was offered a one-off commercial deal with Juice & Naps, whilst even Rosco enjoyed some popularity among the counter-culture in Ingen who thought swordfighting and martial tournaments were outdated and ridiculous.
After healing up and enjoying their fame, as even the other three had still made it to the semi-finals of the tournament, they eventually went on their separate ways, with open invitations to return to Jade territory and the potential for further sporting events and all the opportunities that came with them.