| Dack Forfeit's |
| Argyyle entered the battle arena and activated his sword, looking around for his opponent. Nementh, leaving his sword sheathed, stepped out into the arena and bowed. Dan nodded to both competitors, using the amplifier in his helmet to simultaneously fill the arena with sound, as well as transmit to the holo-camera�s feeding to the resort and elsewhere. "The final match has begun. The rules are the same as all previous matches; with one exception... the entire arena is at your disposal, there is no ring out possible. Match will last until knock-out or surrender." Dan backed out of the way, making sure he would in no way hamper the fight. "BEGIN!" Argyyle bowed at the waist, never taking his eyes from his opponent. He stepped into his fighting stance, left leg forward, right leg bent, sword held in both hands, left hand closer to the blade, blade and point down. Argyyle began a slow but smooth slide in the direction of the center of the arena, watching his opponent carefully. Nementh acknowledged the return of the bow, and the movement. He stood motionless for a few seconds. Suddenly the immediate area in the arena was filled with the sound of the stun stick being pulled out of its scabbard, the activated blade attempting to stun the leather. When the sound ended, Nementh stood holding the blade high in his right hand, positioned across his chest, pointing towards the left, and diagonally towards the ground. Nementh�s Left arm pointed out left and towards the ground. Nementh was leaning slightly to the left. Argyyle continued to approach Nem, now nearing the center of the arena. His right leg continues to support the majority of his weight, his right foot at a 90-degree angle to his left, which is pointed straight at his opponent. Argyyle continued to lead with his left leg, and his sword remains in its position, at a 45-degree angle in relation to his body. Nementh smiled, and slightly adjusted his sword arm, leveling the blade just a little, and putting a little more weight on his left leg. Argyyle was now about ten meters from Nem, sliding, maintaining his posture and readiness. He caught the minute shift in weight, noted it, and prepares for what is to come. Nementh stood perfectly still, almost as a statue, the only movement being the slight controlled rise and fall of his chest, and the stare, slowly tracking Argyyle as he closed the distance. Inside Nementh�s head he counted off the meters one by one, waiting for just the right moment. As the distance closed to one meter, Argyyle abruptly spun, dropping on his left leg, lashing out with his right at Nem's shins. At the same time, his left hand released his sword and swung out for balance. With the sword soley in his right hand, Argyles right arm flashed, striking parallel with his leg at Nem's waist, spinning from Argyles left to his right. Nementh, already in motion the second Argyyle dropped, spun his right leg around into a round house. The kick was purposely aimed over Argyyle's head. Argyyle�s lips pulled back into a rictus as his shin impacted against Nem�s battle hardened ankle. The rictus turned into a Deaths head grin when the sword impacted just above Nem�s knee a fraction of an instant later. Nementh�s first thought upon feeling the jolt in his leg was 'Oh no, not again.' He landed on his right foot and pressed on, leaning into the motion, letting it pull his body down and around to his right. He shifted his right arm down slightly to accommodate his upward swing, leaning into it a little giving all the force he could. His sword was aimed squarely at the exposed back of his opponent�s head, slicing the air. As Nem�s foot and leg passed over Argyyle's head, Argyyle sensed the motion. He knew that his opponent must land behind him, and that his back was exposed. Argyyle shifted his motion from a circular movement to a linear movement, his weight moving from his left leg to his right. As he did so, his head turned to face Nem once more. As Nem's body dipped and turned, Argyyle stepped back with his left foot, placing himself neatly out of Nementh's limited striking distance. No sooner has Nem�s sword passed Argyyle than he began stepping in with his left foot, chambering his left hand on his hip. Simultaneously, Argyyle�s right arm rose above his head and to his left, coiling for his strike. Argyyle continued his forward movement with his right leg, bringing it up in preparation for what must follow. Argyyle right leg flashed down, His heel smashing Nem�s remaining good foot. The bones were not crushed as Argyyle had hoped, though he did feel SOMETHING give. He grinned once more. Argyyle continued to uncoil his body, the motion lending impetus to his leg, as well as to his 2 striking arms. Argyyle brought his sword down on Nem�s head, aiming a crushing blow for the delicate bones of the Nem�s Temple. The sword cracked and bent with the force. Argyyle�s stiffened left hand launched into a spear attack, jabbing ferociously at Nem�s kidney. Argyles intent was to have Nem pissing blood for a week. Nem was lucky he was falling. His motion eliminated some of the penetrating effect of Argyyle�s attack. Argyyle knelt beside his fallen foe. He whispered, the powerful receivers in the arena easily picking up his voice and throwing it wide for all to hear. �Nementh, this is the second time you�ve tried to take something that rightfully belonged to the Zantor family. You will not survive a third.� Argyyle stood and turned to Danthros Avantrix, then bowed respectfully. |
| Argyyle entered the tournament arena and flicked the activationswitch for his weapon. He approached the space marked for himin the center, and waited for his opponent to show up. He knelt and closed his eyes, concentrating, focusing. When the time limit for the allotted match had passed the match was declared over and his opponent declared defeated. How sad, Argyyle thought to himself, that the one favored to win the tournament should forfeit this way. He shrugged to himself as he walked out. Dack probably wasn't worth the fight anyway. |
| The Fight with Nem |