Gancho Libre

Galladon

*looks uncomforatbly at the gathering mob* "uh, I have.... to do. bye!!!" *scadadles away.

or it could be an advantage. pehaps.

"pi times ten to the 2 power. Percent!" Nei'an yelled. Klaw, his Aviar, started circling overhead, squawking. Nei'an started seeing dead bodies pile up around his competitor, some with wounds he recognized from his times in Scadrial. Coin wounds... He thought. And a lot of them... But what were those bodies, devoid of any battle wounds, that stared straight into the sky? This man was very dangerous, as he had weapons Nei'an had never seen before. There were worlds Nei'an hadn't visited. There was only one thing to do. Nei'an started compounding Electrum. Then, he grabbed his truncheon, designed specifically to rip off flesh, and a Patji bombe, filled with Deathants, one in either hand. And Nei'an charged.

Alcatraz IS cosmere. along with the Reconers

also, to any who would want to, this guild is now an official moderator guild; any who joins it could automatically become an unbiased, or biased (depending on your other guild ties) moderator. Check out the thread for that, it's called the 'Alley-wars moderators'

Also (I feel enough time has passed for a double-post) I would like to nominate everyone who joins the Sticknaughts as an unbiased or biased moderator, considering their other ties.

Hello!

And thus, Nei'an began distrusting his sense of hearing, as he had smelling years before.

From what Nei'an could hear from below, yes.

Ah... the wisdom. Have you considered joining the Sticknaughts? The link is in my sig.

I dunno what that means so... Marsh?

Patiently, Nei'an waited, sitting in a man-made tunnel twenty feet below the arena floor. He grinned as he pulled yet another hotdog, this one with mustard and relish, out of his pocket. He was careful, as always, not to put too much pressure on his strangely-sewn overcoat. I'll probably need to wash my pants after this. He thought.

That's awesome! My opinion doesn't matter, but I approve.

@Gancho Libre's character: @MoHaam's character: The arena is empty, the bleachers uncharacteristically silent. Breaths are held, hands are clenched, people are hurridly striding back towards their seat, after having left to gather arena food. All is still. Then, the gigantic doors on either side of the stadium begin to creak open, and light floods into the otherwise dark tunnels beyond. Into the arena steps two duelists; two gladiators; two opportunists who have sought to claim superiority over the other. One, a man of average height, stunned the audience with an array of colorful clothing. The other, a scrawny man, bearing scratches and scars alike, wore a thick overcoat. "Welcome to one battle of many, the Contest of Champions!" The fabrial loudspeaker projected a deep and... inspiring voice. The silence surrounding the stadium shattered into shouts and cries. "Announcing the Competitors!" More screams from the crowd. "On the western door emerges Nei'an, a Scadrian. One the eastern door emerges Riathor, also Scadrian. Today, they battle for glory and honor!" The audience went crazy, as they always did for a duel. A couple of them pointed out that Honor was dead. The two competitors strode for the center of the arena, and once there shook hands, murmuring good luck for the other. However, both of them took the chance given to them to size up their opponents. And both of them soon became convinced in their ability to beat the other. "Announcing the Mediator, @Mraize!" The loudspeaker cried. The audience, if possible, yelled louder. Louder and louder as the mediator walked towards the special mediator box, for his presence signaled the beginning of the fight. Yelling, stamping, whistling, screaming, NOISE. Then silence again. Wonderful silence. None spoke. Preparations were being made. The Mediator prepared to mediate, the announcer prepared to announce, the entertainers, the fighters, prepared to entertain. Finally, the loudspeakers blared once more. "Mediator, are you ready?" Mraize nodded. "Competitors, are you ready?" Riathor responded by summoning his Shardblade, and Nei'an responded by pulling a bag-like package out of his coat. "Then BATTLE!" That last word seemed to be the ok-sign for the audience to resume their chatter, which they did with exaggerated tones. Mraize watched intently (or perhaps he took a short nap, but let's assume he watched), and the two opportunists situated inside the arena began to run towards each other with a dark, dangerous passion.

got it.

ok, then it'll be once you get back after that.

Kaladin

oh yeah. I'll fix that. There we go. Also, @MoHaam , I'm making the thread, not to use right now, but to prepare. Edit: Well, if you're on right now, then we can do it now, I guess