Tournament Battle: Ego versus Superego

August 1, 2008, 2:16 PM

((Let's see if you can figure out who is Ego and who is Superego ;D))

Combatants: Wylliam Morgan vs. Zephyrum Angelus Diamas (professor13 vs. Julius Aurelius)

The Castle of Eternity

For more than a millenia, the destinies of many warriors from all over time and space have come full-circle to face their destinies here.

Deep within a mountain range, hidden completely from view lies an ancient castle, the dwelling of an ancient family, long since forgotten through the annals of time.

Roman, Gothic, Turkish, and countless other architectural styles are found in this ancient castle. It lies decaying, after spending an eternity in solitude and abandonment. There is but one room that remains fully intact: the Hall of Time.

It is here that all of the styles merged into one, creating a dazzling circular room of stone lined with ever-burning gold and silver candelabras, filled with statues of warriors whose names have long since been forgotten. The ceiling is higher than any cathedral, more than a hundred feet tall. The windows are made of an unknown, yet beautiful, clear crystal. Four statues of ancient knights stood to the fore of all the others, surrounding the main area. The walls were lined with gems and stones of every discernible type, some whose identity was completely unknown, and riddled with ancient scripts written in gold and silver.

A flash of blue light erupted in the centre of the room, and three figures appeared. The first was a man of pride, carrying himself as highly as his spear. The second was a man, pale and gaunt, but with a slight air of the divine. The final was a man, floating above the two warriors, pale as the moon and garbed in dark blue and grey robes.

The man's voice was as ice as he spoke. "You two are lucky: you have been given a chance to delay your passage to my Underworld. You have been selected from all the warriors of the worlds, selected to fight and earn the right to lead us to salvation against the Abominations!"

"Should you come out as the victor of this match, you will move on to face an even more powerful foe, who has achieved victory as you have. Lose, and you will be returned to your world until the grip of the Underworld takes you. Die, and you will be reborn in your world, destined to live out your life until I come and whisk you away to my domain."

"During your battle here, all of your Time and Light abilities to be increased to twice their original power. Use this wisely."

"Do not forget: if you lose, you will not be able to save yourselves or the ones you hold dear. Fight for the survival, whether it be yours or your kin's!"

The flash of blue light erupted again, and the sound of shattering ice resounded through the room. The two warriors were left to ponder what they should do and to act on their thoughts.

August 1, 2008, 5:25 PM

A cool, forceful breeze blew against Wylliam's face as he stood upon the cliff's edge, arms outstretched and spear in hand. He glanced down at himself, watching the twilight sky reflect from his freshly polished armor. Turning his gaze to the right, he watched the familiar maroon cloth dance behind his spear as it caught the wind. He was certain today was going to be a wonderful day.

A hole was suddenly ripped in the fabric of time and space which violently drew Wylliam into itself and deposited him face first onto a stone floor in a flash of blue light.

As he lay there, still as the stone of which the floor was made, Wylliam quickly revised his earlier prediction: Today was going to be one of the worst days of his life.

A voice as cold as ice rang through the hall as Wylliam tried shakily to get to his feet, "You two are lucky: you have been given a chance to delay your passage to my Underworld. You have been selected from all the warriors of the worlds, selected to fight and earn the right to lead us to salvation against the Abominations!"

Finally upright, Wylliam took in his surroundings for the first time. Other than himself, there were two other people in the hall: a pale man with blue-ish grey hair and an eye that made Wylliam feel that something was simply 'off;' and the one who had spoken earlier, a robed man that was hovering over Wylliam and the stranger with an icy stare.

Wylliam certainly didn't consider himself lucky at this moment. He left magic well enough alone, why couldn't it do the same? Plus, as far as Wylliam was concerned, the only 'abominations' he knew of were the outfits of the other two men. However, what the man had said about being 'selected from all the warriors of the worlds' definitely struck a chord with Wylliam's ego.

After the man finished his speech and disappeared, Wylliam turned and smiled at the man that he assumed was his opponent. "Not what I'd call a routine beginning to a day, but if my friends are in danger like that man said, then I want to be the one to protect them." Wylliam's grin doubled in size as he added, "Plus, proving to everyone once and for all that I, Wylliam Morgan, the legendary Dragoon with the Wyvern Eye, am the strongest and most handsome warrior in any universe is a huge incentive to put everything I've got into this!"

Wylliam dashed with full speed at the man, letting loose three swift thrusts of his spear aimed at his foe's torso, then leaping ten feet into the air to charge down at his opponent from above, spear first. Hopefully, he would get a good idea of the man's strength from his reactions.

August 4, 2008, 1:43 PM

(I'll offer fragments from my own biography just to make it easier to visualize my character. Added to that, I would like to state that I am honored to fight you again Professor.

Oh well, sorry for my tardiness. I'll compensate my delay with a good start

)

The delicate and gentle morning breeze had finally awoken Zephyrum from his seemingly endless slumber. There he laid, resting on the soft soil of what it seemed to be, a forest with an everlasting beauty and with an unyielding life force that was shown on both the flora and fauna. The birds whistled along with the melodious winds, chanting a divine chorus that foretold good fortune or at least, that was what Zephyrum believed.

As the man rose from the caressing earth, an ill wind arrived from the west. The once unbreakable tranquility of this ancient forest was so abruptly disrupted. Confused, the man placed his hands on the soil, bent his elbows, and then he pushed himself up to finally get back on his feet.

Mysteriously, all around him was beginning to shift all around him; the trees and much of the vegetation withered and died, the rivers dried, and the once enchanting melody that was once chanted, simply, ended. Nothing was left; an overwhelming solitude took over the scenario.

Moreover, the soil below, the horizons all around, and even the magnificent skies above him, where swallowed by that very same nothing -it was, as if time itself moved forward a thousand years in a blink of an eye.

To his surprise, the shadows finally engulfed him, and Zephyrum found himself cast into the precipice of madness. Tumbling, he felt as if he were burning with the white hot flames of the passing ages, and he plunged into the depths of the endless abyss. An unspeakable horror, a relentless rage, time and space seemed to null each other. Eternities passed, and only this torture remained, and he was once again brought back from the realm of madness. With all he was left was with deepening hatred to the hypocrisy that damned him to this uncalled and undeserved ordeal.

Miraculously, the shadows began to disperse, and Zephyrum arrived to a less "hostile" environment. As he was tossed through time and to this place, Zephyrum found himself amazed, and even perhaps, intoxicated, by the indescribable beauty of the chamber in which he had been sent. All he wanted now was to admire this wonderful and heavenly place.

Sadly, his appreciation of this ancient chamber was so harshly interrupted by someone who seemed to be the one responsible for all the torture Zephyrum was forced to endure.

-"You two are lucky: you have been given a chance to delay your passage to my Underworld. You have been selected from all the warriors of the worlds, selected to fight and earn the right to lead us to salvation against the Abominations!"-

Underworld? Abominations? Selection? Salvation? What was he talking about? Zephyrum wondered. It appears that he was sent and brought back from the void just to serve as a puppet, to be someone else's jester in a battle that would determine his very own fate. Zephyrum was disgusted, for he was being forced to take up arms once again with ill intentions against someone, he assumed, was an innocent puppet, just like he was.

Nevertheless, it couldn't be avoided, and Zephyrum waited for the strings to be pulled once again.

There he was, Zephyrum wearing a white collar shirt, light dark leather jacket which has two crossed flaming guns on the back of his jacket, black belt, black pants and brown boots. The jacket he wears has silver buttons which have a letters written in Old English font, with the sum of all letters forming the word “Angelus Zero”. His weapons of choices -which laid suspended on thin air before him and awaiting to be reclaimed- where his old sword and his gun. His sword, The Lost Memories, is light of weight, allowing Zephyrum to easily wield it with either his left or right hand without much effort. Of what we could see, the sword was 4 feet and 6 inches long from the hilt to the tip of the blade. The main steel blade, forged with a strong metal alloy containing stainless steel, orichaicum, and mythril, is almost 3 feet long and 8 inches long, although the rest of the blade is covered by the hand guard and the hilt. The hand guard (covering almost 2 inches of the complete sword size) makes his sword resemblance a “cross”, although it has also two unfolded wings –4 inches wide- and two folded wings that run from where the blade and the hand guard connects ‘till the end of the hilt, serving as a protective layer. On both sides of the very center of the hand guard, there’s a magical stone embedded which has a limited ability to absorb magic. The hilt itself is 8 inches long, covered by a layer of leather, and then another layer of silk.

Zephyrum gazed upon his sword, and then he reached the handle, taking his weapon. Although he had also seen his loyal "Eclipse" Hand Canon, Zephyrum opted not to use it in this battle for he wanted to fight fair and square; he wanted to make face his opponent like a true swordsman and his future to be determined by the edge of his blade.

Without much delay, Zephyrum took his position on the other side of the battlefield as the mysterious "benefactor" disappeared and left these two men to battle each other. A battle of wills was about to commence.

-"I do not know you, nor I hold any ill will against you. But know this, I will not step back from this battle, nor will I show leniency towards your imprudence meaning that I, Zephyrum Angelus Diamas, will take any chance to end this battle as soon as possible with the less permissible harm. Now show me what you are made off! Prove to me that you are the one who deserves to move on and not I! Let fate take its course!!!"-

As he finalized speaking, Zephyrum made up his mind and determined himself not to fail; the life like he knew it was about to change. The battle had begun, and his opponent seemed to be quite eager to indulge Zephyrum, for he had attacked him head on and without hesitation.

Could this be a mere act of recklessness or perchance a more meticulous and well orchestrated move? Zephyrum wondered as he awaited his opponent's attack to be in range in order to attempt to either deflect or elude it.

The fatal dance began with three swift spear thrusts, aimed to Zephyrum's torso. For what he could see, the attacks themselves were fairly weak, made only to test his strength, and so Zephyrum was able to deflect them. The swordsman withdrew his blade and then he swung it straight to his foe's weapon. Zephyrum's sword crashed three times against his opponent's steel -the name of his rival was "William"- parrying the menacing spear. With each blow he parried, Zephyrum moved back a step or two, trying to keep himself from harm.

Suddenly, Zephyrum witnessed how his enraged foe leaped high into the air and came charging down in an attempt to cruelly impale Zephyrum with his spear. Zephyrum frowned, as he clutched the hilt of his blade firmly. His were eyes focused on the spearhead as he attempted to anticipate the landing spot of his opponent's attack.

He waited....patiently....

1.....

2.....

3.....

The spear came rushing straight to him, threatening to end Zephyrum's life. Zephyrum finally took action and, mere fractions before being hit by the approaching spear, the swordsman, bent his knees and then stretched his legs, leaping to his right side and thus evading the near fatal blow.

Not knowing the fate of his foe, Zephyrum landed mere 4 feet away from him, and he quickly turned to find his target once again. His right hand grasping the hilt of the sword, Zephyrum slowly lifted his blade as he stood tall behind his foe, aiming his sword threateningly straight to William.

-"I am surprised! Not in years have I seen such passion in battle, nor such an excessive amount of self-confidence. You nearly had me William... "- Zephyrum rose his left hand and slowly closed his fist-"But this is not how it will end...fate promisses more twists before this drama can be unfolded....completely....and now. Are you ready? Are we all ready? Ready for what? For death? For honor? For glory? No, perhaps we will never know for sure for what we must be ready, but by all means do not let yourself be discouraged for such trivial things as of not knowing for what we are here, or what does fate has in store for us! But enough of this monologue! Come and face me, William, the Dragoon with the Wyvern Eye! Show me if your actions are as cunning and quick as your silver tongue!"-

Zephyrum lowered his left hand and opened his fist as he relaxed his body and stood motionless before his opponent, waiting for him to take another action. He also lowered his sword, letting the tip of his blade rest on the hard and cold, stone floor...

August 4, 2008, 6:20 PM

Wylliam smirked as he righted his posture and rested his spear point-up on the ground, though not slackening his right hand's grip on it. "Let's see here... so far you've talked about fate, dramatic twists, and ignorance of purpose..." Wylliam brought his left hand to his chin, looked to the ground, and cocked an eyebrow pensively as he continued, "...Combine that with your guant, yet noble face and..." He suddenly smiled fiercely and brought his gaze back to meet that of Zephyrum's, simultaneously dropping his left hand and concluding with a laugh, "...Yep. You are too damn serious for me!"

Wylliam stood there, intently scrutinizing his opponent. His own combat style was largely reaction-based, but so far, his opponent hadn't given him much to work with. In fact, Wylliam thought with a small widening of his smirk, this rapier wielder kind of reminds me of Skaol. Thinking back to his days as an apprentice-knight, his first spars with Skaol had begun in much the same manner, with his opponent holding a neutral position after the first exchange of blows.

Wait a minute! Wylliam thought intently, his face becoming pale, Skaol always beat me! Of course, he simply got lucky, er, 50 times, but if this guy gets just as lucky, then I will... I will...!

Wylliam's narcissism, which had been momentarily distracted by its hourly review on why Wylliam was great, suddenly realized the situation at hand and quickly commandeered the logic facet of Wylliam's consciousness.

"Ha!" Wylliam shouted, pointing his spear accusingly at the man, "you thought you could confuse me by doing the same thing that Skaol did in all of our matches (Due to the fact that the 'logic' and 'reality' facets of consciousness have a bit of overlap, the fact that Skaol and Wylliam's opponent don't even exist in the same dimension did not grace Wylliam's mind for a moment)!"

Wylliam leapt away from Zephyrum, effectively doubling the distance between them, before charging straight at his foe, his spear raised as if to smash it on his foe's head. It was a feint, however, for when he brought his spear down, the spear head was still a good six inches afore Zephyrum. Wylliam utilized the force from the strike to the ground to propel himself over and behind his target, and upon landing, twisted his body into a spear thrust to his opponent's back, powered by both the spring-like release of energy from his crouched legs and the centrifugal force from his 180 degree twist.

Wylliam sincerely hoped for the sake of this man that the wierd icy guy had not been lying about the whole 'rebirth' thing.

August 4, 2008, 8:21 PM

Zephyrum waited patiently for his opponent to make up his mind and take action, after all, Zephyrum thought prudent to take a defensive course of action in order to allow himself to know more about his mysterious foe. His eyes set on his opponent's spear as if he were trying to anticipate where would his foe aim the next attack. As his opponent stood gracefully before Zephyrum, the spear-wielding warrior talked much about nobility and seriousness, none of these were of Zephyrum's interest, not until he heard the last phrase.

"you thought you could confuse me by doing the same thing that Skaol did in all of our matches!"

Zephyrum soon felt intrigued by how William seemed to quickly compare him with a warrior named Skaol, a man who appears to be Wylliam's nemesis.

"I know nothing of this "Skaol" you speak of..." Zephyrum said as he thought briefly for a moment who this "Skaol" could truly be.

Suddenly, the much anticipated actions were taken, and Zephyrum noticed how his opponent, Wylliam, stood valiantly before him with a fierce and unyielding determination. Zephyrum could sense the searing flames of passion and aggressiveness scorching his very own soul as he grasped the hilt of his sword with both hands and patiently waited for his opponent to be in range for a counter attack.

As soon as his opponent leaped away, Zephyrum slowly walked confidently towards his foe, not feeling threatened by the menacing cold steel. He went head on, thinking that Wylliam's attack would be similar to the first initial blow the fine spearman had performed before but to Zephyrum's surprise, the attack was merely a false offensive that clearly hid Wylliam's true intentions!

Zephyrum's eyes widened as he saw how his opponent went over him and landed straightly on the rear, right where Zephyrum's blind spot. The course of time went normal all around him, but for Zephyrum, all the environment seemed to slow down. His heart beat vividly and his face was cover by sweat as Zephyrum turned around to meet his opponent face to face in a desperate attempt to elude a mortal injury and at the same time, escape death's cold grasp.

Before him the spearhead was rushing threateningly and straight to his chest, and due to the short distance, it was too late for Zephyrum to attempt to dodge the blow as he had done before. Much more, the attack itself was too close for his sword to be drawn forward to deflect it, leaving Zephyrum with one option.

Suddenly, before his eyes flashed the memories of the mysterious man who had invited him to this chamber, although his mind was concentrated on what happened last. After the mysterious man had left, ice was shattered and scattered all around the chamber. Then Zephyrum's mind was enlightened by the revelation as he realized he could use this ice to his benefit thanks to his ability to manipulate elemental forces all around him.

And quickly, mere seconds before the spearhead could strike him down and mere inches away from the cruel weapon, Zephyrum desperately summoned the element of water around him. Hastily, Zephyrum loosened the grip his left hand had on the hilt of his sword and, with his newly free hand, he tightened his fist and then opened his hand. On the palm of his hand, a blinding blue light appeared, and the chunks of melting ice all around him began to be summoned to Zephyrum's left hand.

Zephyrum then ducked and bent his left elbow, pulling back his left arm and taking the gathered ice along with his left hand. The drawn ice formed a vortex around his forearm, with chunks of crystallized water circling rapidly all around his arm. Zephyrum then tightened his teeth and frowned; a ferocious expression could be seen on his face as his eyes burned deep with blinding blue lights.

Finally, Zephyrum rushed his arm forward, thrusting it his fist straight to the spearhead. His left fist was covered with what it seemed to be a cold icy gauntlet, quite as sturdy and resistant as the hardest of armors. Inches before his fist could get in contact with Wylliam's spear, Zephyrum opened his left arm and unleashed the freezing magic contained within his hand. The humidity surrounding his hand along with the ice he had gathered merged together quickly forming a freezing hard shield, effectively blocking his opponent's attack. However, Wylliam's strength was a forced to reckon as Zephyrum witnessed how the shield cracked and exploded, releasing a ferocious burst of energy.

This was the chance Zephyrum was looking for as he used the momentum caused by the clash of both attacks to bend his knees and leap away from Wylliam. Zephyrum soon landed safely a mere 6 feet away from Wylliam, not knowing the fate of his foe.

Due to the shield being shattered and scattered once again, for a few moments the chamber was covered by mist and it seemed as if it were snowing. A true miracle indeed.

Zephyrum took a hold of himself and got a mouthful of air as he panted due to the amount of effort he had put into barely escaping death.

August 4, 2008, 10:40 PM

Aw, not magic! Wylliam groaned mentally as he tried to absorb some of the released energy's force by forcing a backward shift in his own momentum. He was still knocked back several feet, but when he landed, his feet continued to slide until the wall stopped him from behind. Glancing at the stone floor, he saw it to be largely covered by miniscule ice fragments and water, providing a very slippery surface upon which to fight.

Suddenly, a stroke of (what he would claim to be) genius struck Wylliam, causing his ego to happily perform back handsprings all around his mind in celebration of his self declared greatness. However, his plan would take some preliminary setting-up, not to mention a little time to optimize its effectiveness.

In the meantime, he planned to do something about that wierd 'eye' of his opponent. Wylliam was quite familiar with lightning reflexes, possessing some of those himself. However, Zephyrum's reactions were beyond discription, and his timing was far beyond superb. Wylliam concluded that that strange cat-eye had to have something to do with it, thus if he wanted to win against this guy, he would have to find away to disable it while maintaining his offensive.

Wylliam found that he rather liked being on the offensive. In another burst of speed acheived by pushing his entire weight from the wall and utilizing the reduced friction of the wet ground, he ran, skated, and skidded to one of the silver candelabras lining the room; the one at Zephyrum's left. Slowing only to fling his spear like one would a javelin straight at Zephrum's lower abdomen, Wylliam grabbed the candelabra and skated after his spear in the same trajectory, thrusting the flaming prongs of the candelabra straight toward the left side of Zephyrum's face.

August 8, 2008, 6:38 PM

(I will follow up our plan Wylliam

This is top-secret, not even the mods will know it hehehehe

)

Zephyrum rested while his opponent recovered from a desperate counter attack he had performed. Although the most intelligent thing would have been to make a follow up attack, the amount of stamina he had used before left him somewhat exhausted. Much more, the amount of ice and water scattered all over floor made the surface slippery, which would make it difficult to move around without risking a fall. Zephyrum knew he couldn't allow himself to be caught in such tight spots too often, or else he would run out of energy before knowing it. His mind was clear and his objective was set; he needed to disable Wylliam's spear somehow.

As he thought of how and when he would attempt to disarm Wylliam, Zephyrum waited for his opponent's next response while he recovered some energy. Although his cat-like reflexes allowed him to quickly reply to Wylliam's offensive, the explosion caused after the ice shield shattered caused the whole arena to be veiled by a a cold mist which slightly reduced visibility up to 8 feet away. Since Wylliam was farther away, Zephyrum couldn't tell for sure where his opponent was.

Suddenly, a spear erupted from within the mist, cutting through the wind at a blinding speed followed up by Wylliam. Zephyrum thought that evading such large projectile was an easy task, nevertheless; he had failed to noticed the second attack. As Zephyrum tightened the grip his hands had on the hilt and then lifted his blade. He then bent his elbows and turned his torso to the left as he held his blade vertically slightly above from the chest and slightly next to his right shoulder. Finally he unlocked his knees and relaxed his muscles as he clearly focused on the incoming spear.

As the spear approached threateningly, Zephyrum lowered his sword placing it diagonally to his right side next to his waist -the tip of his sword aiming to the floor- as he gathered momentum to strike the spear itself. Soon, the spear was close at range, and Zephyrum took action. His arms brought his sword upwardly -in a diagonal motion from right to left- and surprisingly striking accurately the tip of Wylliam's spear and successfully deflecting the blow.

Zephyrum grinned although his smile was not everlasting for he had noticed the true intentions behind Wylliam's initial attack. His opponent's hands held an instrument of doom which was one of the candelabras that could be found in the chamber. Zephyrum's eyes widened -specially his left cat eye- as he noticed how Wylliam fearlessly trusted the flaming prongs -in contrast with Zephyrum's earlier counter attack which was an ice shield- straight to Zephyrum's face.

Zephyrum knew it was too late to withdraw his sword in order to deflect the attack, much more tardy to even attempt a defensive spell like the one he had cast before leaving a desperate evasive move as his last chance. Still, the current distance between William's new weapon and that of Zephyrum's face was astonishingly short, therefore that even the quickest of dodges wouldn't go without sustaining harm.

As the flaming prongs came rushing towards Zephyrum, he managed to pull his sword back. He then bent his knees and leaped desperately away from Wylliam. With his sword, Zephyrum attempted to disarm Wylliam although his plan backfired. As soon as he hit Wylliam's candelabra, his very own sword was entangled by the prongs and since his arms couldn't handle the pressure of the attack, Zephyrum was forced to release the grip he had on the blade.

The sword was thus sent hurling violently against the wall, piercing the concrete and laying motionless hanging from the cracked structure. Zephyrum was then hit by one of the flaming tongs on his left shoulder. Realizing his opponent still held the candelabra, Zephyrum seized this opportunity to take the offensive.

With the candelabra still embedded in his left shoulder, Zephyrum reached one of the ends of the candelabra, and gripped it tightly. He then pulled the candelabra along with Wylliam -who was still holding the other end of the candelabra- and began to spin madly like a tornado. After spinning three times, Zephyrum released the candelabra and it was sent, along with Wylliam, straight against one of the windows around the chamber. Subsequently, the flaming prongs which once pierced Zephyrum's skin came out painfully - although the pain ceased as soon as he got them out.

Zephyrum then fell on his right knee as he brought right hand to his left shoulder and placed his hand on the wound. Blood poured out of the torn flesh, although much of the wound and the exposed flesh was cauterized by the flames of the candelabra, thus sealing much of the wound with minimal blood loss. Zephyrum then rose back to his feet and walked slowly towards the wall where his sword laid embedded. He then reached the hilt of the sword and pulled it with much effort from the wall.

He then brought his eyes back to where Wylliam was sent, although the still-present mist made it difficult to decipher Wylliam's current condition.