Dawn of Champions Tournament [IC thread]

[Veise]

Evidently, though, 400D chess was NOT his bread and butter, for Rachel had begun to catch on to his style. She could see that Flamenco was not an offensive fighter and assumed from there that he was an opportunist, attacking only when the opponent made mistakes. Furthermore, she could assume that, perhaps, that fake or bait openings were not his specialty. Door Soldier began to discard the corpse of Macho Man.

Gotcha!, thought-boasted Rachel. She slid one foot forward and the other, with all of her body-weight thrown into a spin, slid between those of Don's. Her spin was to propel her Zweihander around as she attempted to drive her blade into wherever (she didn't care) at his chest-height, the spikes on her zweihander coming first, which would then be followed by the blade digging deeper if not crushing something and batting him in the red-cloaked soldier's direction were it to hit.

[Brigida]

Evidently, though, 400D chess was NOT his bread and butter, for Rachel had begun to catch on to his style. She could see that Flamenco was not an offensive fighter and assumed from there that he was an opportunist, attacking only when the opponent made mistakes. Furthermore, she could assume that, perhaps, that fake or bait openings were not his specialty. Door Soldier began to discard

Gotcha!, thought-boasted Rachel. She slid one foot forward and the other, with all of her body-weight thrown into a spin, slid between those of Don's. Her spin was to propel her Zweihander around as she attempted to drive her blade into wherever (she didn't care) at his chest-height, the spikes on her zweihander coming first, which would then be followed by the blade digging deeper if not crushing something and batting him in the red-cloaked soldier's direction were it to hit.

Whilst the blade seemed to have winded Flamenco severely and send him flying towards the red cloaked soldier's direction,it also opened up the bleeding flesh wound on his side as he looked to the red soldier next to him with a searing pain in his abdomen. His eyes widening, he quickly through a left hook to the soldier as he looked for an exit, one being a glass window, knowing that his allies, Piston Hondo and Aran Ryan were nearby. He regained his stance, albeit a fair bit weaker, as he glanced to the window and went over to escape as he violently pushed anyone in his path out of the way, and jumped out.

"Adios, pendejos!" Flamenco cried out as he fled.

[Veise]

The Red Soldier and his similarly colored comrade had the compassion to all grab Don Flamenco and basically boot him out of the castle.

"Hey, what manner of muckery are you up to?!" hissed Rachel.

A sixth came down from the ceiling in front of Rachel. "He's a coward, unworthy of fighting any of us. He can go get killed by someone else, or better yet bring reinforcements that we too can squish." explained Lysander. A puppet opened the mighty castle doors and then flung him out, before slamming the doors shut.

Rachel made a pouty face. "Fine. But, Sir Lysander, thou shalt pay unto me a hearty supply of white wine! I will now make my report to Lord Astre."

Lysander crossed his arms. "That's a fair payment. Right then, back on guard..."

---

Soon after, hooded silhouettes passed by the various windows of the castle on patrol, especially where there were earlier reports of snipers. Pascal poked out of a first-floor window with his rifle and looked in the general direction of the earlier gunfire.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Soon after, hooded silhouettes passed by the various windows of the castle on patrol, especially where there were earlier reports of snipers. Pascal poked out of a first-floor window with his rifle and looked in the general direction of the earlier gunfire.

If he was lucky, he would see two horses galloping towards him-and, if he zoomed in, 2 people riding each horse-two in the snow white uniforms and pickelhaubes of the Elsassian officer corps, two in the dark-green/black uniforms and caps of the Elsassian "footsloggers".

---

Twenty minutes before
The signal came, and the first thing Marie did was to grab Louise and swing her into the saddle, while she shouted for Catherine to do the same, cutting off her sharpshooter's squeal of protest.
Jan, on the other hand, simply shrugged and mounted the horse without the Cuirassier having to pull him, and so, with a quick flick of the reins and a quick press of the spurs into the sides of the horses, they were off, galloping away.

"Oi, Catherine!" Marie hollered. "Castle seems to be the best option, innit?"
Catherine shrugged as best as she could under her heavy armor. "I don't know, boss, we don't have enough manpower to hold it if that's what you're thinking."
"Well fair enough, but still gives Louise here a good vantage point. Ain't that right?"
The poor girl was too busy trying not to fall off.

As gun fire echoed through the city, Daniel grabbed one of Bonnie's saddle bags and pulled out a long slender mahogany box. Opening it he picked up a W.M. Malcolm 6x Long telescopic scope out of the box. Carefully folding down the rear sights of his rifle, he attached the scope to his Marlin M1895 CB rifle. Once he was done attaching the scope he rested the rifle on a table away from the window which prevented any scope glint to show. Aiming down the length of the unwieldy sight he swiveled it about and noticed Stan Dixon on a rooftop a good three quarters of a mile away. Smiling to himself, Daniel realized he probably could make the shot and get payback on Stan for taking out his eyesight the last time. Fortunately for Stan, Daniel had other ideas and instead popped off one round that was deliberately high as to cause a sharp *crack* over Stan's head to let him know he was being watched and could have easily taken that round to the head. After firing that one round, Daniel rolled out of sight before continuing his search for other hostiles from the top floor of his building.

Looking towards the majestic castle that towered over the rest of the town, Daniel noticed a couple boxers heading towards it. While he watched them, he saw the gate open and beckon them inside. Squinting hard he couldn't see who had opened the gates. While he scanned over the battlefield he continued to relay information with Erika and share who he had seen and where so that they could form a battle plan.

A crackle came from his ear, and then Erika's voice.
"Testing, testing, Erika here. Seeing if the earpiece I slipped into your ear works."

[The Chuck]

Daniel almost jumped out of his skin when Erika's voice came through his ear. Looking around he couldn't see Erika but it had sounded like she was right next to him.

"What the hell is an ear piece and why does it sound like you're right next to me? Don't forget I'm from the 19th century and as such much of this technology shit is beyond my time. Wait a minute, grab your rifle. I think I see something in a window of the castle."

With that, Daniel waited for Erika so they could see what was looking through a window of the castle.

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

Chucksville Tournament Spawn

A strongly-built, short male figure in a full suit of post-modern body armor fell through the Tesla gates at the spawn-point- breaking his fall with an expert's duck-and-roll in the fashion a skydiver or paratrooper would, but still stumbled slightly, the nausea from the trans-dimensional step overpowering him.

"Shit- *hyperventilates* they don't pay me enough to do these things, I swear. Either that or I didn't think this through."
He stabilized himself on a nearby cathedral pew, taking his surroundings for a moment, murmuring to himself about the beauty of the area before inspecting all of his equipment.

As the holographic message from VictorNet started up, he listened closely, taking mental notes for his intelligence report- and midway through the briefing he noted the emptiness of the cathedral.

"Am I late?" He asked himself, before answering his own question and advanced out of the cathedral.

His Thompson drawn with a holographic sight and a suppressor affixed and his knives and sidearms readied on his belt, he advanced out of the building and into the sunlight. Cursing silently as he waited for his personal electronic equipment to reboot, he scanned streets, windows, and rooftops for signs of movement, moving as quickly as he could from cover to cover without getting his head blasted off.

This would be an interesting day.

[Imperial Octavia]

Haisan looked up to the screen, memorising the location of Zero. He lifted Executioner from its position on the north facing gable of the house. He looked over the street from his mostly hidden position, leaping across to the next house once sure he was clear. Anyone within a fair distance could easily hear the crashing of the scythe against the rooves as he propelled himself forwards. As he neared the square, he slowed and entered the buildings, ensuring the element of surprise would be with him. He sighted his target, little more than a black pole from where he was. From within his shirt he drew a pair of Reaver knives, intending to fully use his surprise. The glass shattered as he charged through it, throwing the knives and readying his weapon for a controlled impact.

”Hehahe.” The villain chuckled with an addition of a sickly cough, his hand and fingers danced at incredible bursting the sound barrier with catching each thrown knife inbetween his fingers without moving a muscle, or that is what told by the naked eye with him still motionless now holding the knives in his right hand. He had actually moved through it like watching a glitch in time and space manipulated by Zero to preform his impossible bodily movements. Otherwise, Zero tilted his hand towards the direction where they came from. ”Come now, your knives may be for ghouls from the backstreets but this is a demon, a demon breed from the divinity of Octavian science. This is just child’s play, however, if not. I’ll bite my tongue and see would you got to offer now.” Smiled, Zero flicking the knives back, where they came from.

[Eodor]

Whereas usually, upon inflicting damage to a target, the Reaver knives would have teleported back into Haisan's shirt, now they flew back towards him. They were dodged easily enough, little more than a slight mid-air kick enough to propel his form away, impacting into the building he had leapt from and burrowing into the steel. Their teleport homers targeted their usual positions within his shirt and were through a Rift within a second, re-materialising right before Haisan's masterful landing plan was put into effect. He reached out Executioner, aiming to slice Zero in two, either he would impact the flesh and use it as a rudimentary shock absorber or he would hit the ground and bounce off that instead. "Well, you know how I am," he smiled, now only moments before impact, "always love to play."

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Erika scanned the castle. "...Might be a hostile. Get under cover, I'll assess the situat-hang on."
She noticed a figure in the corner of her scope and moved around, sighting it.
"...holy shit, is that Harper?"

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

After a while, Harper had come across a large, fortified keep that served as the highest point in the city, spotting movement from several areas.
Ducking down into a shadowed stone crevice for cover with an M1911 in his right hand, he unslung his briefcase and took out his tactical crossbow, (cut down to the size of a carbine) and a small quiver of "special-use" bolts, before closing the case and putting it back on.

He kept his Thompson slung across his chest while unfolding the stock and adjusting the bow's telescopic sights (but left the laser sight turned off), before surveying the castle for more movement.

A soft electronic whirr echoed as his STA combat goggles picked up several potential targets.
"Movement detected at 530 meters." A message flashed on the heads-up display in the corner of his vision.

"Nice of you to start working now," Harper muttered to himself, as he followed both the device's readouts and his instincts. He identified a sniper on the first floor of the castle, thankfully not looking at him, and, going lower, a pair of boxers approaching through the gates. There seemed to be moving shadows within the windows of the fortress, but he wasn't able to get a proper look at them.

He decided not to take any shots, given at how he was out of range for an accurate shot with the bow.

Deciding to turn around to scan several buildings behind him, he looked at a second-floor window in one of the high-rises.
"Wait a second..."

He adjusted the scope to as high as it could go.
"Is that a horse on the second story? Seriously?"

As he readjusted his scope and prepared to make a new plan, a bright flash briefly caught him off guard in a building next to the one with the horse.

...Contact at one 'o clock! Bastard! Scope glint!...

His mind rushing with thoughts, he went prone in his little keep, deciding not to give any sharpshooters a chance to end him right there.

An idea shot through Harper's head, a rather stupid one.
Consulting the wrist-worn PDA that came with his STA electronics system, he went over the radio and selected a frequency he knew all to well.

On the other end of the radio would be a characteristic beeping, similar to one of the American-manufactured Codecs.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

The beeping made Erika jump, and she almost yelped. But part of her was glad-they now both knew where the other was.
She whispered into it. "Hey, Harper. Long time no see. If you see a cowboy on a horse, don't shoot at him please, I'm working with him. His name is Daniel Clay. On a side note, you got my parchment version of The Lord of the Rings I sent you via mail yet?"

[The Chuck]

As Daniel kept sweeping over the cityscape he noticed a glint of a rifle. Speaking so Erika could hear,

"Erika... I'm looking at something that looks an awful like a rifle scope and it appears to be looking at me... Would you mind shooting it? It's across the way out there."

As Daniel trained his rifle on the glint in the distance he relaxed his breathing and waited to see if there was a muzzle flash. If there was one, he'd take out the bastard too before he was shot.

[Veise]

Pascal had seemingly recognized and noted the presence of Veiser military nationals, and promptly retreated back into the castle. A few moments later, the castle doors opened...

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Erika sighed. "...negative, negative, that's a friendly. I've meet him before, we're friendly. Do not fire."

Pascal had seemingly recognized and noted the presence of Veiser military nationals, and promptly retreated back into the castle. A few moments later, the castle doors opened...

Marie glanced over at Catherine, who then shrugged. They continued on into the castle, before dismounting and fanning out, and proceeding within.

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

The beeping made Erika jump, and she almost yelped. But part of her was glad-they now both knew where the other was.
She whispered into it. "Hey, Harper. Long time no see. If you see a cowboy on a horse, don't shoot at him please, I'm working with him. His name is Daniel Clay. On a side note, you got my parchment version of The Lord of the Rings I sent you via mail yet?"

Harper breathed a sigh of relief, knowing at least he knew someone out there.

"I'm glad you're here, Erika. I barely know what the fuck's happening..." He pulled off his goggles and adjusted his helmet for a moment, wiping his brow and grinning to himself.
"I saw a horse on one of the high-rises near you, but I don't think I've seen a cowboy to go with it. Good to know what's going on, at least on your end.
And on the note of the books, no, it didn't come in the mail yet- but a lot of thanks for it, anyway.

Have you had contact with anyone else here, combat or otherwise? I need to come up with a proper plan to surviving this."

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Erika shook her head, although he couldn't see it. "Negative...hang on, let me patch Dan through with you..." She switched to Daniel's frequency. "Alright, Daniel, take out your earpiece for a minute. There's a setting with numbers on it-dial it to...number 4."

[Veise]

The evidence of a previous battle was there. The corpse of a boxer stood there with a large number of surprisingly small bullet wounds, and there were a pair of what were clearly grappling hook punctures on his arms (a giant slit stab surrounded by four small puncture wounds), and finally he was clearly impaled diagonally from the collar out his mid-back. There was a crater across the room with a large slit in it -- Rachel's calling card -- and a trail of little dots blood that flew across the room from an area near the crater to almost the opposite wall. It did seem to fly over the corpse though.

There stood Lysander, recognizable in the darkness by his red cloak (it could just be a puppet though), leaning against the wall. "You're late," he began with a voice echoing around the room, "though Astre's been expecting you. We've already got ourselves a kill, and enemy reinforcements may or may not be on their way."

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Marie nodded. "Apologies. Complications involving my brother's experiments happened." She mumbled under her breath. "i swear I will never trust the little punk with prisioners again..."
Jan took over. "Regardless, where do you need us-and is there a good vantage point from which Louise here can pop off shots? I assume the primary killzone is here, so it's obvious where me, the Countess, and Catherine go...In any case, does His Majesty desire our presence, or is he content to merely know we're out here?"

[The Chuck]

Daniel popped out the ear piece and looked at it. During his travels across time he had encountered similar devices but he had tended to steer clear of them since he didn't know how they worked. As he took his time looking at it he finally figured out what Erika was trying to tell him and he keyed his ear piece correctly. Popping it back in he spoke,

"Howdy parder, what is happening right now?"

[Veise]

"Well, it's all fine now I suppose that you all are here." Lysander clasped his hands together and leaned off the wall. "I'd recommend that you all check up with him for good measure. Consult Pascal on marksman positioning, anyways. I'll be cleaning this up in the meantime."

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Erika grinned. "Harper, meet Daniel. Daniel, Harper."

"Well, it's all fine now I suppose that you all are here." Lysander clasped his hands together and leaned off the wall. "I'd recommend that you all check up with him for good measure. Consult Pascal on marksman positioning, anyways. I'll be cleaning this up in the meantime."

Marie nodded. "Jan, Catherine, stay here and get ready. Louise, go meet Pascal. I'll go meet with His Majesty..."

She left, heading inwards, while the other two took up positions, leaving Louise along.
She gulped. "Ehem...do you know where to find this 'Pascal', sir...what's your name?"

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

Daniel popped out the ear piece and looked at it. During his travels across time he had encountered similar devices but he had tended to steer clear of them since he didn't know how they worked. As he took his time looking at it he finally figured out what Erika was trying to tell him and he keyed his ear piece correctly. Popping it back in he spoke,

"Howdy parder, what is happening right now?"

Erika grinned. "Harper, meet Daniel. Daniel, Harper."

"Mr. Clay, I presume?" Harper relayed over the radio, a slight Exodian accent (imagine Lancashire British combined with Universal American) in an bright, enthusiastic yet collected tone.
"I think I've seen your mustang up there with you. Have to love the Americans and their style.
To answer your question, I myself barely know what's happening right now- but what I can tell you is that everyone seems to be converging on that castle I was facing, seeing an awful lot of movement there. I can also tell you we're in some version of the Hunger Games- that's a gladiator bloodsport tale in our time." He joked.

Focusing again on the current situation, he kept going. "I don't have much in terms of long-ranged armaments like Erika or presumably yourself, but what I do have are automatics, if you're familiar with those. It works best clearing rooms, at close range and with large clusters of hostiles. Like I said before, the castle seems to be the biggest point everyone's focused on- If I can get both of you closer and give each other cover, we can make it inside. Alternatively, I can come to you two if that's a better option."

[Veise]

"I am Sir Lysander of Astre Squad. It is a pleasure to meet you, Madamoiselle Louise. Pascal is an air corps man on the first floor of the main tower, a bit of a silent type but he'll still help you." answered Lysander, gentleman-like. One of his dummies shut the castle doors, and Pascal disappeared from the window. In reality, the Air Corpsman was actually just slumped against the wall, waiting for something to happen. Soon after, the patrols began appearing in the windows again.

In the mean while, Marie stumbled upon Astre tending to Rachel's 'wounds' which were actually not more severe than what a kid falling on a playground might get, and Rachel's pouty face and aggressive kick-fidgeting didn't help avert that image. Astre was rubbing the bruises with a ball of cotton.

"Hold still or I'll get shitty commoner booze in your eyes!" hissed Astre.

"Come on, Astre, quit that. Oh, hey, Marie!"

Astre didn't even turn to face her, continuing to deal with a wincing Rachel. "Perhaps I should've told you to come an hour early, and with your scheduling you'd come just as the grace period ran out." scathed the Prince.

[Nova Urbinum]

Giovanni's eyes sprung up, quickly and chaotically inspecting the inside of this cathedral. He was panting quietly, and looked around at the others standing around him. He lied on the ground and had no clue where he was. His light grey backpack with his equipment was next to him, and all but his rifle was already on him. He was nearly ready to go out into the field.

He got up on one knee, and made a crucifix towards the alter, as he'd always done when entering a church. He recited the prayer of St. Michael the Archangel, and then got on two feet. Others were looking at him weird, as most people here didn't have any religions. The thought of dying young had probably scared away all the god-fearing people. It had left him with the unzealous and heretical bunch. So he thought. Monterisi was probably not going to get into heaven. He lived a relatively sinful life, but always tried to praise God in his way, which was difficult, as he liked going on trips out into the mountains and such. This meant that it was sometimes very difficult for him to go to church on a Sunday, pray to God every night, and use the rosary enough. He thought of his mother. His mother was staunchly opposed to him going here. She'd always been the most peace loving, faithful Catholic in the family, and he felt like letting her and God down by even standing amongst these lot. Enough. Time to concentrate.

He got up and slung his rucksack over his shoulders, attached the straps and checked whether the backpack was comfortable. His sponsors had hooked him up with a piece of camouflage that worked relatively well both out in the shrubby forested areas and in urban environments, going for a light grey, greenish sort of look that would possibly help him quite a lot later on. Monterisi's tactic was to run through the city and get to the large gardens spread through the densely urban areas. He looked over to the rest of the people, who, mostly, had equipment that was superior to him. Giovanni hadn't done enough lobbying and crowd funding, as he felt that he was being out gunned by his peers. He grabbed his ARX-160, and loaded it with a magazine of 5.56mm that he had prepared for his first thirty shots. The other magazines were in his harness and webbing pouches.

Giovanni was about to pull back the bolt on his rifle when he heard a big siren, signaling that it was up to the people collected in the cathedral to run out as a wave to follow the previous waves. Unsure of what to do, Giovanni got out the back of the Cathedral, trying to split off from the others in the church as he didn't find them trustworthy. As he made his way down the street, sprinting for his life, he felt bullets impacted the ground, right besides his feet. He ran and ran until he got to an alley, which he entered for cover.

He was in luck, as there was absolutely nobody in the alley. He heard firing and explosives from all about, and felt that he had to get to the edge of the city, where more gardens and such might be. He noticed that his camouflage wasn't fitting the city colours properly. Those cheap bastards would get it once he'd tell them about their failures. Most of the people who watched the event must've remarked something in disgust, because Monterisi started getting soot and dirt from the filthy corners of the alley, and started smearing it on his clothing, giving him a darker, greyish look, that properly mixed with the city surroundings. Giovanni smiled, a smile so wide that it ran from both sides of his face, and smeared some of the black goo over his cheeks, painting de-facto war colours. He was going to enjoy all this, he thought, while finally getting to cocking his rifle.

[Low bloods]

Giovanni's eyes sprung up, quickly and chaotically inspecting the inside of this cathedral. He was panting quietly, and looked around at the others standing around him. He lied on the ground and had no clue where he was. His light grey backpack with his equipment was next to him, and all but his rifle was already on him. He was nearly ready to go out into the field.

He got up on one knee, and made a crucifix towards the alter, as he'd always done when entering a church. He recited the prayer of St. Michael the Archangel, and then got on two feet. Others were looking at him weird, as most people here didn't have any religions. The thought of dying young had probably scared away all the god-fearing people. It had left him with the unzealous and heretical bunch. So he thought. Monterisi was probably not going to get into heaven. He lived a relatively sinful life, but always tried to praise God in his way, which was difficult, as he liked going on trips out into the mountains and such. This meant that it was sometimes very difficult for him to go to church on a Sunday, pray to God every night, and use the rosary enough. He thought of his mother. His mother was staunchly opposed to him going here. She'd always been the most peace loving, faithful Catholic in the family, and he felt like letting her and God down by even standing amongst these lot. Enough. Time to concentrate.

He got up and slung his rucksack over his shoulders, attached the straps and checked whether the backpack was comfortable. His sponsors had hooked him up with a piece of camouflage that worked relatively well both out in the shrubby forested areas and in urban environments, going for a light grey, greenish sort of look that would possibly help him quite a lot later on. Monterisi's tactic was to run through the city and get to the large gardens spread through the densely urban areas. He looked over to the rest of the people, who, mostly, had equipment that was superior to him. Giovanni hadn't done enough lobbying and crowd funding, as he felt that he was being out gunned by his peers. He grabbed his ARX-160, and loaded it with a magazine of 5.56mm that he had prepared for his first thirty shots. The other magazines were in his harness and webbing pouches.

Giovanni was about to pull back the bolt on his rifle when he heard a big siren, signaling that it was up to the people collected in the cathedral to run out as a wave to follow the previous waves. Unsure of what to do, Giovanni got out the back of the Cathedral, trying to split off from the others in the church as he didn't find them trustworthy. As he made his way down the street, sprinting for his life, he felt bullets impacted the ground, right besides his feet. He ran and ran until he got to an alley, which he entered for cover.

He was in luck, as there was absolutely nobody in the alley. He heard firing and explosives from all about, and felt that he had to get to the edge of the city, where more gardens and such might be. He noticed that his camouflage wasn't fitting the city colours properly. Those cheap bastards would get it once he'd tell them about their failures. Most of the people who watched the event must've remarked something in disgust, because Monterisi started getting soot and dirt from the filthy corners of the alley, and started smearing it on his clothing, giving him a darker, greyish look, that properly mixed with the city surroundings. Giovanni smiled, a smile so wide that it ran from both sides of his face, and smeared some of the black goo over his cheeks, painting de-facto war colours. He was going to enjoy all this, he thought, while finally getting to cocking his rifle.

For a moment Death strolled past glancing down the alleyway, the skeleton mumbled. "Must've been the wind." As he heads off down the road.