| A BRACKET Match 1--Robert Newell Dick Tracy vs. Agent Smith Dick Tracy had been running for hours. He had seen a man punch through a brick wall and receive not so much as a scratch. He was not about to attack this Agent Smith in a frontal assault, that would be suicidal. Eventually, Tracy realized that even after all of his running, he was not tired. He was also moving faster than humanly possible. Tracy was confused. What on earth was going on? He thought that he must be dreaming, for how else could this supernatural stuff be happening? He tried pinching himself, hitting himself, everything, but to no avail. He looked behind himself and saw the agent coming straight for him. He turned and emptied his entire tommy-gun at the agent. The agent dodged every bullet. This has to be a dream Dick Tracy thought. If this was a dream he thought, if I die I'll wake. He was almost right. The Matrix is basically a dream, but his analysis of waking upon death was incorrect. Agent Smith muttered something to himself about the stupidity of humans as he walked away from Dick Tracy's corpse. Winner: Agent Smith Match 2 - Robert Newell The Rocketeer vs. Sub-Zero The Rocketeer flew high above the city streets looking for his opponent, the one called Sub-Zero. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do once he found him, but that seemed unimportant to him at the moment. In fact, he was not even sure what this Sub-Zero looked like. He swooped down lower to the street to get a better look at the people on the ground, not that this was going to help him much. Sub-Zero saw the Rocketeer first, he was sticking out like a sore thumb with his jetpack and all. This was too easy Sub-Zero thought, he is coming down closer right towards me. When the Rocketeer got to be within twenty feet of Sub-Zero, arctic blasts shot from his hands, hitting the Rocketeer in the back. The liquid fuel in his pack instantly froze, and he plummeted to the ground in a heap. Sub-Zero roared in his victory and changed form into a polar bear. He went over and mauled the Rocketeer to a bloody pulp. Winner: Sub-Zero Match 3 - Mark Ailshie Majik vs. Ulysses Ulysses' eyes rolled as he looked at the huge granite structures around him. He had never seen a city so large. Among so many, how could he ever hope to find the single man that the fates had decreed he was to battle? If he went out to seek him, he could easily find himself exposed and hunted down; much better to wait for his opponent to come to him. Grimly, Ulysses hoisted his massive bow over his shoulder, and decided to set a trap. Majik immediately recognized New York. Perfect. He knew this city well--He wondered dimly if anything decent was playing on Broadway. But, of course, he had no time for that. First, he had better find Ulysses. He recognized the name of course -- He had read Homer in High School. Ulysses was known for trickery, determination, and archery. Majik decided he'd better watch his back. Majik threw off his ornate cape and put his arms down by his sides. He opened and closed his hands, using his inborn psychic ability to create tiny fusion reactions in the air molecules between his fingers. He had long practice with this. To all observers, he seemed to be flying smoothly, as he propelled himself to the top of a nearby building. He noticed several people watching him with shock, and bowed deeply. Uncertain, the people clapped politely. Majik held out his hands to show they were empty, and then caused a tiny explosion around his hands, under cover of which he pulled a rose out of his sleeve and tossed it to a nearby woman. Now the crowd clapped more readily. Majik nodded in satisfaction, and flew off to a higher level. Ulysses watched the flying man uncertainly. He had fought gods before, and had usually lost. The stranger didn't look like Hermes, but who was to say? Well, if so, than a god could be easily distracted. Ulysses spotted a likely looking couple and approached them. "Hail, Good vassals! May I count upon your help?" The two gangsters looked sideways at this strange talking man sullenly. Ulysses knew this type. They only understood one thing. Ulysses showed them his gold. Their eyes popped open. Majik didn't like this. Knowing Ulysses, he would be setting up something ornate and tricky. Suddenly, two jacketed young men stepped into the middle of the street, and started harassing people for no reason. Majik frowned. He was enough of a showman to know when someone was pretending--These two were obviously part of Ulysses' trap. But, being that he had no other way to find him, Majik threw himself off the roof and landed in front of the punks. "What do you two think you're doing?" Two mouths dropped open at seeing a flying man. Without a word, the two sprinted away. Majik bent and touched the ground. Ulysses released his bowstring with a twang! Majik didn't know which direction the attack would come from, so he sent a fusion burst in all directions. The gamble paid off--With a pop, an arrow burst into flames not a yard from him. Using his power to give him speed, Majik jumped in that direction as Ulysses frantically tried to restring his bow. Majik waved his hand as if he were plucking something out of his sleeve, and a baseball-sized glow of fire appeared in his hand. With a shrug, he flicked the fireball at the ancient Greek mariner. >>>>>>>KA-BOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<<<<<<< Ulysses was gone. Vaporized. Majik turned to the assembling crowd and bowed deeply "Thank You! Thank You! Thank You!" Winner: Majik Match 4 - Robert Newell Mat Cauthon vs. Rocky Balboa Mat Cauthon did not know how he had gotten into this strange place. He had appeared in a flash of light, but it couldn't have been the Power... he was protected, by the strange, silver medallion of a foxhead that he always wore, wasn't he? All he knew is that he had to kill a man called Rocky Balboa. The name seemed very strange, and nowhere in any of his memories could he remember that or any similar name. Neither could he remember from his memories a place that was as strange as this city. There were people everywhere that looked like Andorans, Cairheinin, and even those who looked like Sea Folk and Aiel. Their clothing and speech were alien to him. People gave his ashanderi strange looks, but Mat stared them down and they quickly went on their way. The dice were rolling in his head, so whatever was going on couldn't be good. "Light!" he thought to himself. Rocky was ready. He had found this strange looking foreigner called Mat Cauthon. The wide-brimmed hat and long black spear gave him away in this city. Rocky did not want to ambush him, but he also did not want to have a spear stuck in his guts. Rocky decided to follow Mat for a while to find the perfect place to blindside him. He would blend in with the crowd in his gray jumpsuit a whole lot better than Mat would. Mat knew he was being followed. The man who was stalking him was obviously an amateur Mat thought, until he came up with a more blood-chilling explanation. The man following him was dressed all in gray. It couldn't possibly be a Gray Man, Mat tried to convince himself. But that would explain his lack of concealment. The Shadow's soulless assassins could not normally be seen, but if this was a Gray Man, Mat must have somehow seen through his concealment. Mat decided not to take any chances. He muttered, "bloody ta'veren" under his breath and then the words "Carai an Caldazar!" and "Carai an Ellisande!" leapt forth from his mouth as he leaped at the Gray Man with his ashanderi extended. The dice stopped rolling. Rocky did not know how this Mat person moved so fast, and he did not have to think very long because his innards were spilling out onto the street and that sort of preoccupied him until he died a few minutes later. Mat pulled his ashanderi out of the Gray Man's stomach. Now he could find this Rocky Balboa person. Then, somehow he realized that this Gray Man that he had killed was the same man. "Bloody Luck!" Mat exclaimed and wiped the ashanderi off on Rocky's pants. He had just realized a few things. He had moved faster than could be physically possible, and the dice had stopped rolling... "Blood and bloody ashes!" Winner: Mat Cauthon Match 5 - Alex Strub Captain Moroni vs. Sylvester Stallone It was dusk in New York City, the sun slowly sinking beneath the clouds. It was a cold evening, and the moon had not yet risen. Captain Moroni stood on the roof of a building staring off into the distant horizon. The Title of Liberty tied to the pole he held fluttered gently in the wind. �What is this place?� he thought, �Is this Old Jerusalem?� No, an impression came to his mind. Somehow Moroni understood that this land was by some means connected to his own, but he didn�t know just how. He felt himself longing for the green jungles of the land Bountiful, or the blue seas at the coast near the City of Moroni, anything beautiful at all, just to get away from this wasteland of giant black and silver constructions. The Matrix obliged. Moroni found himself in Central Park, though he didn�t know that was its name. At least something green grew here. Sylvester Stallone briskly jogged along the sidewalk. He had taken his shirt off a few hours back to feel more like usual. All the people strolling by looked at him oddly. Did they recognize the great celebrity? It didn�t appear that way. An old man gave him a sideways glance. A young woman pulled down her sunglasses for another look. Sylvester puffed out his chest, a little too obviously. The woman moved on. The sidewalk soon lead past a dark alley. Two young hoodlums hopped out with a large knife and a baseball bat. �Give me your wallet, man!� one shouted. Stallone wasted no time. He whipped out his trusty shades and put them on. It was all about the image. He spoke slowly, with deliberation, �You�re the disease, and I�m the cure.� He punched the bat-wielder in the stomach, who doubled over, dropping the blunt instrument. He then proceeded to use the bat to do a full roundhouse on the other kid�s head. Both hooligans now unconscious and bleeding on the ground, Stallone picked up the knife and moved on. Moroni did not know what to do in this strange land. He had knelt and prayed for guidance, and a response of comfort came, though without instruction. He had all of his regular implements of war at hand, his sword, a large machete-style knife, his shield, buckler, the spear point on top of the Title, and he was fully armored, so at least he was protected. Stallone saw the Nephite standing holding his flag in the park. It was just the sort of guy he needed to trash. He was always messing up the picturesque-looking guys, that or your every day street ruffian. He had done lots of fighting in the movies, but this was real, he finally had his chance to do some real rumbling. Who was this peculiar man approaching? Moroni wondered at his appearance. He had on only a black object obscuring his eyes from view (shades), black trousers of a fabric Moroni had never seen (jeans), and some sort of leather boots. The man paused several yards from Moroni, pointed his strangely crafted club at the captain and said, �You�re the dirt, and I�m the broom.� �Whatever is this man trying to say?� thought Moroni. �Didn�t you hear me, beardy?� Stallone called again, �You�re the ice, and I�m the ice pick.� �Who are you?� called out Moroni. �I�m your worst nightmare,� was the response. �Please don�t do anything foolish,� Moroni warned. He knew this strange dark-haired man stood no chance against him, even with his cudgel and blade. Moroni would not attack this man, only retaliating in self-defense. �And what are you trying to say?� he asked. �I wrote my own lines for Cobra,� Stallone said, �My best film yet! These lines are even better! How do I come up with them? You�re the spilt milk, and I�m the guy who mops you up!� Stallone run towards Moroni swinging the baseball bat, his every intention being to knock the Nephite a new one. Moroni took a defensive stance, laying the Title on a park bench. Apparently this man was not going to listen to him. As Stallone reached Moroni, the Nephite captain simply raised his sword and cut the bat in two. �Huh?� thought Stallone. He hadn�t noticed the sword before. No matter, still easy pickin�s. He drew out the knife. Moroni knew the knife would be no match for his sword. That wasn�t fair play. He set down the sword and pulled out his own large knife. He was ready to duel, but all Stallone tried to do was poke Moroni�s chest. Moroni sliced, and Stallone found himself missing not only the knife, but also two of his fingers. Moroni was very sad. He didn�t want to hurt the man, but he couldn�t avoid it. Stallone winced at the pain and looked around desperately for a weapon. He couldn�t reach the man�s sword, but some weird spear with a flag tied to it was lying on a park bench. Moroni couldn�t believe it. The man was brazen enough to defile the Title of Liberty! Stallone turned around and charged Moroni with the spear. Moroni had no choice. He picked up the sword, and as Stallone was about to impale him, he chopped off his head. Stallone�s corpse lay gushing on the ground. Moroni turned, put his hand to his eyes and wept. He always hated the taking of human life. He knew bloodshed was necessary to defend his people, but not the blood of this man. He did not even know his name. The man wasn�t inherently evil, like Amalickiah, king of the Lamanites, nor was he trying to harm Moroni�s family or people or steal their liberty. He was just foolish. Now he knew why the People of Ammon had buried their weapons. Moroni picked up the fallen Title and moved on. Winner: Captain Moroni. Match 6 - Stacey Ailshie Han Solo vs. Tarzan "Man it's hot!" Han breathed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. The line in front of him didn't seem to be going anywhere. *************************** "Jane, maybe we should come back another day. I'm not used to this heat, and it's killing me," Tarzan pleaded with Jane. "Tarzan, let's not have this conversation, we've come so far, we're only visiting for a little while. Just humor me!" The heat was getting to Jane, but she wasn't going to admit it. *************************** The crowd inched forward to the base of the Statue of Liberty. Thousands of people were waiting hours to get a view from the top of the statue. Tarzan and Han were standing in line next to each other. The heat was working on their nerves. Tarzan had had enough. He turned to look for any sign of shade or for something to drink. As he turned he bumped into Han Solo. "Hey! What's the big idea!" shouted Han. "Nothing. I..I..I'm sorry!" Tarzan stammered back. "Oh yeah! Well, I guess you don't know who you're dealing with. I've been standing here for over 2 hours and I'm not going to let you start pushing me around!" Han was pretty out of control. Jane turned to Han, "Sir, I'm sure you can see it was a simple mistake..." but Han cut her off. "Back off lady! This is between me and monkey-man here." Han was making fun of the hunched over stance of Tarzan. That was it for Tarzan. Nobody could treat Jane like that. He lunged at Han. Tarzan wrapped his fingers around Han's neck. Han struggled to loosen Tarzan's grip. Han reached for his blaster. He got one shot, but it only grazed Tarzan's ear. But suddenly he had this weird feeling inside. Each movement seemed so quick while the crowd around him moved in slow motion. Tarzan was holding his ear. He'd had no idea that people could act like such idiots in a crowd. He had to get the blaster. Tarzan had felt the same feeling about his movements as Han. So, at least they were on common ground. Jane was crying in the background, "Tarzan, just walk away. We'll come back another day!" But it was no use. The two men were wrestling for control of the blaster. The braver onlookers in the crowd had formed a circle around the two fighters. And then it was so quick. One shot and it was over. Tarzan fell back gasping for air. Jane screamed. She cradled his head in her lap. It was over as quickly as it had begun. The police made their way into the circle of onlookers. They grabbed Han, and led him away. Winner: Han Solo Match 7 - Mark Ailshie Medusa vs. Wuntvor Wuntvor didn't recognize this place at all. There were so many people around! With this many witnesses, Death would never appear and snap him away. Of course, he had to be careful of dying in the conventional way. He drew his wand, and strode purposefully ahead. As often happened, he tripped over his own shoes, and fell on his face. Several people around him laughed. Wuntvor stood up and tried to recapture his composure. "Indeed," he said, which always reminded him of his master Ebenzum and made him feel better. The people cheered. Great. That was all he needed. More people that loved him. (If you have no idea who Wuntvor is, check out Craig Shaw Gardner's two series "The enchantments of Ebenzum," and "The Wanderings of Wuntvor." Wonderful fantasy parodies.) Medusa slithered through the sewer system, carrying her bow, and a quiver full of snake-arrows. Her snake tail was much more adapted to this environment than her feet used to be. Before Aphrodite had cursed her with this wretched form. Being a Greek monster, it didn't bother her that her decapitated head had already had an important part in a match this week. In fact, it made her feel better--If Perseus had already killed her, then Wuntvor could not. Besides, she had already turned this little punk to stone in the last rumble. Wuntvor tried to walk away from the crowd of people, but they all kept following him, and cheering. It was useful being the Eternal apprentice, but it could also be a headache. But then, he would need all of his luck to defeat the snake-haired woman that he had only had one glimpse of in the last rumble. Medusa poked her head up a manhole, and several of Wuntvor's followers turned to stone. Medusa ignored them and crawled to the surface, bringing her bow into position. Wuntvor noticed that several people had stopped cheering. He turned to see what had happened, and luckily, one of the statues blocked his view of Medusa's face. But he saw her long tail, and recognized her. "Look out!" he called to the people, and dodged into an alley. �Dang!� thought Medusa. He can dodge quickly! She kept staring around at his followers, until most of them were stoned, and strung her bow, launching snakes at her opponent. As they struck the walls and the street, they turned back into snakes and slithered toward Wuntvor. Wuntvor waved his wand, and one of the snakes turned into a boot. "That wasn't what I was trying to do!" shouted Wuntvor. The snake arrows kept coming. Eventually, Medusa ran out of arrows. "Return!" she hissed, and the snakes all started slithering back to her quiver. Wuntvor ran down the alley, looking for a way to escape. But suddenly, he found something that might be useful--someone had thrown out a full length mirror. "Hmm. I wonder if I could use her own magic against her." The apprentice decides that it is worth a try, and picks up the mirror and runs back. Medusa peered into the darkened alley. She worked well in the dark, but she wasn't at all sure about following this unusually lucky kid. Suddenly, the boy was running straight for her, averting his eyes and carrying a mirror. Medusa averted her own eyes, and shot a snake. Of course, the shot went wild. She turned and retreated, trying to think of what to do. Wuntvor laughed and gave chase. But his foot caught the curb, and he tripped and fell right on top of the mirror. >>>SHATTER!!!<<< "Uh, oh," Medusa turned and stared at the apprentice. He tried to back up, but found his body didn't move as well as it once had. �Curses!� He thought. �I'm stoned again!� Medusa called to her snakes, and unstrung her bow. She looked around at the statues around her. She had frozen almost two dozen people in this battle. Most of them, she hadn't even intended to freeze. They just looked at her while she was freezing someone else. And that wasn't even counting the two she had frozen in Minas Morgul. Winner: Medusa Match 8 - Brian Ailshie Conan vs. Ninja Gaiden The surroundings were more amazing than the Cimmerian had ever seen. Giant mountains with perfectly smooth sides loomed all around him. But the mountains seemed to be hollow, as people in strange dark tunics and trousers poured in and out of them from their bottoms. Most paid him little head, but kept their distance. No matter, Conan must find the masked warrior and kill him. A simple task. Ryu used his climbing claws to grip the side of the building. He wasn't sure how he got to New York, but this was obviously it. Hundreds of business workers streamed from the buildings twenty feet below him. He scanned the street as far as he could in each direction. No sign of the muscle-bound warrior in a loin-cloth he must face. Ryu leaped down and checked his weapons, boomeranging throwing star, a few regular stars, and his katana blade. All was well. He set out to find this 'Conan.' The barbarian was not sure which way to travel first. Closing his eyes he muttered a quick prayer "Crom, guide my ways." So saying, he opened his eyes, and stepped to the left, just avoiding a throwing star that shot past his chest. Conan looked up to see the masked man poised atop some sort of enclosed wagon, his hand reaching for his belt. Conan charged, and the Ninja heaved another star at him; this one imbedded itself in the barbarian's bicep. Grunting, Conan rushed up and leaped onto the 'wagon.' Ryu couldn't believe it, somehow the warrior had sensed his presence, and dodged the first throwing star. Not that it mattered much, he had many more. Throwing a second he scored a hit. Blood spayed out from the muscle-coated arm. But the warrior barely slowed, and leaped into the bed of the pickup truck. Ryu pulled out his sword and took a ready stance. The warrior swung, and the ninja parried. However, the barbarian's strength was so much greater that just blocking his slash off balanced Ryu and he fell backwards from the truck. Conan leaped off the 'wagon' and jabbed again with his sword. The masked man rolled aside. He was quite fast, but no matter. Conan knew he had a vast advantage of strength. Matching blades again and again, he could tell the masked man's arms would be getting sore. So with another purposely wide stoke he knocked the blade aside, then followed around and up knocking the sword from his hand to clatter against the 'mountain wall' ten feet away. Conan ran his great Cimmerian blade through the man before he could take two steps toward the blade. Conan wondered, he definitely had strength over the man, but somehow he had seemed to speed up to nearly match the man's quickness. Perhaps there was some magic in the air! Winner: Conan the Barbarian ROUND 2 Match 1 - RJ Harris Sub Zero v. Agent Smith The two fighters had been dodging the others weapon blasts for hours. Sub-Zero kept sending out his ice blasts in every direction imaginable, while Agent Smith had unloaded, then reloaded, half a dozen clips. Somehow, somebody had to break open this stalemate. The straw that broke the camels back so to speak was a final shot from Agent Smith's second to last clip. The shot hit a large neon sign that hung directly over Sub Zero. The originally stray bullet knocked the sign out of alignment enough that it gave Smith an idea. He reloaded his last clip of bullets and shot at the sign again. This time he dislodged it and set the sign falling to the ground directly at Sub Zero. The demon creature saw the object falling towards him quick enough to have only an initial reaction--Sub Zero set an ice blast its direction. The blast met the sign with great force, shattering it into several large chucks of sparkling pieces of wire and metal. The pieces continued their fall and ultimately crashed directly around Sub Zero! He was trapped by his own weapon! Agent Smith calmly walked over to his foe and took out his gun. The last word that Sub Zero heard before Smith unloaded was only "Goodbye." Agent Smith finished off his last clip and with almost no emotion, threw his ammunition-less weapon at the bloody remains of Sub Zero. Then he silently trotted off into an alley. Winner: Agent Smith (now weaponless) Match 2 � Robert Newell Majik vs. Mat Cauthon Neither Mat nor Majik recognized each other's name. Only a few years previously, Mat would have been in total awe of New York City. It was still impressive to him, but he could handle it. He had no idea where his opponent might be, so he did what he usually did when he did not know what to do. He wandered aimlessly. The dice were rolling wildly in his head, but he trusted his luck to guide him to where he needed to go. Majik was much more savvy of the city, but he was also impatient. He knew that he would not stick out if he did not show off, but he couldn't help himself. He took off in the middle of a crowd, and some stared, some , screamed, and some even fainted. He did a loop-the-loop and flew off in search of Mat Cauthon. Mat had no idea where he was. He entered a building and lost himself in the crowd. He followed one pretty young woman into a small room that a few other people were in and was slightly startled when the doors closed behind him. He stood still, mimicking the others in the elevator, though he did not know what it actually was. Some people looked askance at his ashanderi, but Mat stared them down and they went back to minding their own business. The elevator went all the way to the observation deck. The people began to exit the room, so Mat followed them. He looked out the window and froze up. It was one thing to see these gargantuan buildings, it was quite another to be near the top of one. He figured that the Power must have been used to take him here. He pulled out his fox-head medallion and felt the same cool silver that he always had. It had not frozen at his breast, so it must not have been the Power. A man came up to Mat and told him to hand over his ashanderi. Mat did not know that he was a security guard, but it wouldn't have mattered. Mat hit him in the face with the butt of his spear. The guard pulled out his pistol and shot at Mat. Mat felt luck twist and the dice stopped. The bullet seemed to move in slow motion. It struck Mat's medallion and caromed off. His medallion was torn from his chest and struck a nearby window. It burst through and fell. Mat beat the man senseless and grabbed his pistol away. This was it! Bellfounder... bah... he had a working weapon such as Aludra was developing. He stuck the pistol in his belt and ran. He mourned the loss of his amulet, but he had other things on his mind at the moment. Majik soared between skyscrapers, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He did not see Mat's medallion fall from above. It struck him on the head. He should have been knocked out cold, but he wasn't. Mat's medallion nullified Majik's control over his fusion reactions. Majik exploded. The medallion was shot straight up. Mat made it to the ground floor, avoiding all the people who looked like the first "thief". Mat walked out the front door and was shocked as his medallion hit the ground and shattered the pavement. Mat picked up his unblemished medallion and knew that he had defeated his opponent. He did not know how, so he thanked his luck and moved on. Winner: Mat Cauthon Match 3 � RJ Harris Capt. Moroni vs. Han Solo Captain Moroni walked into the prison. He had heard that this is where his next foe was being held. He didn't want to kill anyone that was unarmed, so he had to get this Han guy out somehow... When the two guards asked him what his business was there, he explained that he had information that he needed to give to the prisoner. Moroni's clever disguise of a hooded cloak, made him look like one of the many Monks that were often found in New York. The guards eyed him wearily, but complied with his request to see Solo. "I've come to help you," explained Moroni, to a baffled Han Solo. "But," he continued, "I am you next opponent, so do you want my help?" "Look, buddy," Han began, "I'm pretty used to taking care of myself, but under these circumstances, you do whatever you can to make this fight 'fair'. After that, I ain't makin' no promises." That was good enough for Moroni. He walked back to the two guards; they were engrossed in a game of cards. Within a few minutes, Moroni had both of them tied up in a corner and he and Han were walking out of the jail. "Now," said Moroni, handing the smuggler back his blaster, "let's begin this fair duel." Han quickly grabbed his blaster and held it up toward the military captain and yelled: "Sorry, buddy, but I don't play fair!" Before he had time to shoot, Captain Moroni had pulled out an arrow, and sent it in the direction of the spaceship captain. One blast went straight up in the air, harmlessly hitting a tree branch, as Han fell to the ground. Moroni's arrow had done the damage needed, and Moroni finally began to realize that his reflexes where much faster here for some reason. Before he left the scene with the dead Han Solo, Moroni quietly whispered, "Peace to you, bold warrior, God speed you on your journey." Winner: Captian Moroni, Nephite warrior Match 4 � Cindy Whitmer Medusa vs. Conan Conan crouched at the corner of the narrow street, waiting for his adversary to appear. There was no sign of her yet. He was confident that he could easily defeat a mere woman, but then, this strange place did make him a little uncertain. There was a strange magic in the air, and if he could only understand it he could use it to his advantage. As long as it was a mystery, though, it could be of little use to him. He leaned up against the peculiar smooth mountain that formed one side of the alleyway and shivered a little at the cold feel of its surface on his bare arms. He clenched his sword in impatient annoyance. Why didn't the woman just appear so he could kill her and get out of here? A noise suddenly caught his ear. Someone was coming down the alleyway. He quickly drew more closely into the shadows, weapon ready, and listened carefully. It sounded like the woman was coming from behind him. In a few moments, she would be at his side. Slowly, he turned around, but the light was so dim he could see little more than an outline of her figure. She moved slowly, her movements almost serpentine in their fluidity. Conan allowed himself to admire her figure for a moment, wishing briefly that she was not his enemy. As she walked into a patch of light, however, he had a better sight of her from the back. He grimaced. What had seemed to be flowing locks of hair was actually a mess of snakes coming out of her head. Repulsed, Conan stepped forward and prepared to attack. He snatched her around the waist and held his sword at her throat. She struggled to break free of his grasp. She was surprisingly strong, and for a moment she managed to pull his sword from her neck, all while prying his hands from her waist. However, Conan resisted her attempts to break free with little difficulty and forced his sword back towards her throat. As he pushed it down past her face, the light glinted on its blade and the image of her face appeared on the surface. Conan stared in horror. If the back of her head was repulsive, her face was utterly terrifying. He unconsciously loosened his grip on her waist, but instead of relaxing, her body stiffened. It was unnaturally stiff, and heavy. Conan, still holding the sword before her face, glanced at her reflection again. His eyes widened. Her own eyes were filled with an expression of terror. They were strangely motionless. In fact, her whole body was - Stone. Conan looked at the heavy body he held in his arms and saw that it had turned completely to stone. His arms trembled, and he dropped the thing to the ground, where it smashed into several pieces. Conan was not easily frightened. But this was a sort of magic he did not like at all. He picked up his sword, and ran away as fast as possible. Winner: Conan the Barbarian ROUND 3 Match 1 � Brian Ailshie Agent Smith vs. Mat Cauthon The dice were rolling in Mat's head again. He knew that was a bad sign. Suddenly a man in a dark cloak (trench coat) stepped out of a narrow space between two buildings. The dice started to fall. For some reason, Mat thought of 5 ones. The dark one's roll, the best or the worst depending on the game. So which game was this? "It's your time to die Mat!" the guy in black said. Then he jumped at him. Light! This guy moved FAST! Mat knew this city somehow gave him faster reflexes so he was able to move aside, barely. Landing next to him, the guy started throwing punches. Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right, and that was just in the first two seconds. Mat blocked some but a few got through. Mat couldn't count how many, they came so fast and at least one had hit him in the head. He thought his nose was broken. Then came the kicks. He blocked several with the butt of his spear, but one connected and sent him sprawling. That was almost to his advantage though. As the guy leaped at Mat to continue pummeling him, Mat jabbed with his spear. However a small grunt of pain was all he got from the guy before he ripped the spear from his grasp. It wasn't long before the rain of blows knocked Mat out; a darkness that he never came out of. Winner: Agent Smith Match 2 � RJ Harris Capt. Moroni v. Conan the Barbarian Moroni knew this battle would be tough. With a name like Conan the Barbarian, he was sure this man would be a warrior; the only question was this: was Conan a "good" warrior or a "bad" one. Surely time would tell. Conan strolled through the streets of New York with confidence. Although his last battle was tough, he realized that his odds of getting to the finals was now a step away. Only a captain stood in his way. Moroni entered one of the huge buildings to get a bird's eye view of the surroundings and, perhaps, an early sighting of his foe. Atop the Empire State building, he received more than a good view. Conan had also gone atop a skyscraper and saw his opponent atop the other. He quickly went to go meet him there, with a surprise attack that he was sure would spell out victory. The sword fight was fast and furious. Each warrior received many wounds and in all the sound and fury, that really signified much, the two men moved closer and closer to the edge. Finally, a strike from Moroni, sent Conan's sword out of his hands onto the street below. It landed at the feet of the Agent. Moroni stepped back from his unarmed foe and spoke what would be his final words, "I shall not fight an unarmed foe. We must find your sword before our battle can be ended." "That is where you are wrong, Captain!" shouted the Barbarian as he took a small knife from his side and flung it at Moroni's chest. The blade hit hard and deep. As Moroni fell towards his opponent, Conan lost his balance and fell down to his own death. Moroni listened to Conan's screams until they were no more, silently mourned for his would-be-foe, and drew his last breath. Winner: *BYE* Agent Smith advances to the Finals with Conan's sword. ROUND 4 Match Agent Smith takes the Bye from Match 2, Round 3. |