So, are matches still possible?

[clen]

So is it still at all possible to get a match or is there nobody left?

 

[Eacos]

Provided you specify with details what version you want to play, there might or might not be servers around for people's amusement.

 

[sub]

This was posted in the fight club section stealth, not esf

This section is dead and has been for a long time. I'd be surprised if you can get a fight going

 

[clen]

Versions and servers? Is that something new, I haven't been here in a while...

Edit*
kk, that's what I thought, thanks Sub.

 

[sub]

np.

Btw, IQ of 136 my ass.

<3

 

[DiebytheSword]

It's technically still here.

There are still refs, so if you could find someone to fight, you could have one.

I'm willing to accept challenges, for example.

 

[Eacos]

lol, I think anybody can score higher than 130 on these online IQ tests.

I actually took one last week... a REAL one. Had to pay around 80 bucks and it was mandatory for the bunch of psycho tests they want to put me through.

WTF is fight club anyways.

 

[clen]

Well, I don't really mind who I fight it's not like I actually care about winning (don't really win anything). Just wanted to try out my writing.

Stealth: It's basically writing about a fight between two made up characters: yours and whoever you're "fighting". A judge chooses the setting and judges(duh) the writing chosing the better written of the two.

 

[Grega]

Well if noone else steps up /looks at sub/ guess i can write up something fast. Just dont expect anything to great from me

 

[clen]

Yeah, you won't hear any complaining from me; now all we need is a ref.

 

[DiebytheSword]

I'll ref then.

There is peace in the land again, and all is calm. Two great leaders have finally set aside there differences publically, and all is well. However, the two great leaders furiously work against one another behind the scenes. Are you an agent provaceteur, attempting to stoke the fires of war or are you a man of peace, attempting to stop your foe from striking the drums of panic once again? The leaders and the countries are left up to you, as are your machinations, good or evil . . .

The fight will be to the best of 3 rounds, and there may be changes to conditions depending on what you write and who wins this first round.

Best of luck gentlemen. Have at you.

 

[Grega]

Ill make sure to cook you alive while i warm up again [/smacktalk]

 

[clen]

You'd better set yourself up for dissapointment; it's the best you can hope for.

 

[clen]

The guard wakes me up; he doesn’t have to say a thing, I already know the routine. I stand up from the ash coloured floor, I walk out of my cell and start walking, my body moves without me telling it to; it’s done this walk every day for the past five years. The halls are nothing but white walls and marble floors, no imperfections, and nowhere to go. A room filled with invisible stains, the air is stinks with what must be ammonia and the machine hovers over the bed surrounded by faceless men in white coats. Finally reaching my destination; I take of my paper clothes and I position myself on the gurney and they strap me in. An uninterested voice asks me something forgettable, I ignore him as it is part of the routine. I brace myself for the pain, I wait in agony for what seems to be an eternity and yet no pain comes. Has the machine malfunctioned again? I feel my heart race for sometimes I have been lucky enough to have a couple hours of rest in a real bed, sometimes even a whole day. It is times like this that he remembers he used to believe in god, but he gave up on him helping him after the first year, no this was nothing but coincidence happening at the right place at the right time. I feel something move my arm, and when I open my eyes I see two men; both of them wearing real clothing but their faces are the same as everyone else. I close my eyes again, and hear sounds coming from their mouths but no words. They are like parrots simply repeating words that someone else gave them, and they don’t understand their meaning, but then he hears a word that was taken from him five years ago. “Freedom” he says; I can be free? I open my eyes yet again, and I finally see a face. Two men are in front of him; both wear nearly identical black suits and sunglasses. The one talking seems to be older, maybe around his early forties with nearly even white hair. The other is considerably younger, at most in his late twenties with a shaved head.

“We’ll give you your freedom,” promised the older man “If you’re willing to work with us.”

“He doesn’t listen to a word anyone says!” yelled the faceless men “He’s a damn animal; we might as well treat him as one.”

I struggle to use my mouth, and look for words that have long been lost. Try as I might no words come out, only a chocked sound.

“Will you work with us?” asked the older man once again as he looked at me; straight into my soul.

All I could do was nod, and hope for the best.


I was given some clothes, what looked to be my old suit and tie. It felt strange on me, it felt heavy and stifled me, but it reminded me of the past and that was reason enough to wear it. The two agents had been waiting outside my cell while I changed. They introduced themselves when they gave me my clothes; the older man was named Ben Caxton and the younger one Mike Valentine. No doubt those were not their real names but I did not care for I was finally being freed. When I came out of the cell I was, for the first time in years, lost. The two agents led me while they explained the situation.

“We have some problems with one of our…” Mike stops as if to think “financial supporters.”

“He needs to get rid of a certain nosy fellow that has interfered with some of his work and he wants him gone silently.”

Ben takes a file out of his suitcase and hands it over to me “All the information we have on your target is on there. There was an attack a couple weeks ago in Nazrat a backwards town in the Middle East, we can’t drop you off there but we can take you to a neighbouring city that’s controlled by our donator. There was a single survivor when the police arrived, he was cut in two and didn’t see the attacker, but he uttered a name, 'Grega'. After searching through our files we found many entries with that name but most were either dead or in our agent’s custody; except for one. There’s not much there in the file other than his appearance and that he seems to use bladed weapons but there have been strange scorch marks on some of his other victims. Oh yeah, there’s also some pictures of the aftermath, but I was told that they weren’t 'necessary'.”

I open the file and read over his name, “Grega”

“We’ll have a plane take you over to where he was last spotted, and once you finish the job you’ll be free to vacation wherever you want. You’re getting back all your frozen accounts; at least the ones that we know of, should be plenty of money for whatever you need.”

Mike seems to smile “Just don’t have any thoughts of running away, remember that we can detonate the bomb in your heart with a simple click of a button and I doubt even you could recover from that. Now remember, you got a month. Either his life or yours, a fair trade, no?”

So they will keep a leash on me, and they expect me to follow orders like a good boy. I force a smile and reply “Yes sir,” he’ll be the first to feel my revenge.

I arrive at around noon, the air smells like a farm but there’s nothing but dust and people. The sun burns everything in its path and seems to somehow add to the smell, the city looks like a village than anything else. I walk with a suitcase in each hand to meet the arms dealer that has been set up for me. I find out in the open selling weapons as if they were fruit; he seems to recognize me and signals me to go right up to him.

“I have your weapon right here, do you have the money?”
I bring up the suitcase in my right hand and open it up, “Double the price agreed for your trouble”

“Nice doing business with you, take some extra bullets on the house.” The dealer smiles “Would you like me to bag these for you?”

After shopping around for stuff in the market, sunglasses, gloves, a rusted pair of binoculars, and some food I find a cheap motel to stay in and take out my new weapon, the Ruger Mk. I. It glistens in the sunlight and find that the file number has already been filed off. I fit the silencer to it and take out the boxes filled with bullets. The writing on the boxes is written in Russia, old soviet ammo; they look a bit rusted, but should work fine. I fit the bullets into magazines and fire some rounds outside in the motel’s firing range. Time to find the target, I go to the streets and ask around for anything I can get. I don’t much but it seems that nobody in this god forsaken country seems to notice anything that happens further than their own neighbourhood. Plenty of them have heard gunshots in the last few nights but they’re all in the wrong place and the wrong time. It seems that nobody but the agents seem to know about this incident; well at least here, time to call an old friend. Instead of using the satellite phone, that the agents were so kind to give me, I opt for a cell phone bought from one of the many little shots in the city’s centre. I punch in the number and as far as I can remember it’s the right number; I hear a ring and then another and then suddenly it stops and I hear a taped message saying

“We’re sorry but the message you have dialled has been disconnected, please...” I hang up, and I merely assume that the worst has happened.

“Too bad,” I think to myself, he was a good friend, but before I can think of the next number to call I get a ring. I pick up and hear a voice that nearly makes me smile,

“You ****ing idiot, I thought I told you not to call my house, they’re tracing it,” I can’t hold back my smile anymore “Also, what the **** are you doing calling me at this hour, it’s after midnight.”

“It’s me James,” I inhale as if I’m going to make a long speech, but only three words come out, “I need your help.”

“Who do the **** do you think you're talking to? I don't care who you are you just don't call someone at one in the morning. Me? Ruger, is that you?” I can hear him laughing over the phone, “You dumb bastard, where have you been these past years, I almost went bankrupt; these idiots don’t last long enough to pay me half the time. What did you finally get caught or something?”

My smile flattens and my voice is now grim, “I took a vacation,” James’ laughter stops.

“So…” James knows not to say anything else, “What do you need help with, and more importantly, how much do I get paid?”


James’ information has always been top notch, and I’ve yet to meet anyone that even comes close to rivalling it. Unfortunately this Grega fellow doesn't seem to have much on him; there's barely any new information, but I do get a very important piece of information. It seems that Grega is listed as a bodyguard for a “king” in a neighbouring country. He found no reason as to why he would be all the way over here, but he added some info on this King Abdullah to the east; free of charge of course. It seems that he and the president of this forsaken country have been fighting over their border; more specifically they’re fighting over fields that supposedly have massive amounts of oil and both sides claim that it falls under their country’s borders. This war was however officially ended about half a year ago. I figure that this Grega is an assassin working for Abdullah, but it doesn’t matter to me. I know how to find this Grega now, and as a bonus I get to leave this god forsaken place.

I arrive just as the sun licks the mountains in the east, and beneath the mountains I can see a palace that towers over a town that seems to grow out of the palace like weeds. I pay the driver and make my way towards the building I picked out on my way here. The building is part of an abandoned factory; the rusted fence that surrounds the place looks as if it were always that colour. In the eastern corner stands a building which must have been used as the offices of what looks like a car factory. Most of the windows are broken in some way and all of them are covered in grime to the point where they let no sunlight in. The door to the office building is rusted and nothing and locked in place by a chain and lock. After busting the lock I enter the building and make my way to the top floor and look around the room. The place looks like it wants to collapse and the paint peels of the wall; the floor on the ground is covered in dust that makes footprints stand out. I go to one of the dozen windows overlooking the palace and take out some lunch and the pair of binoculars I got. They work well enough for the job since the place is only a couple hundred yards away, and with the sun coming up the palace is the brightest thing in the town. I wait for a couple hours taking notes and taking a leak when necessary. The sun is already at its peak and it seems to burn everything in front of me; I saw plenty of guards in the palace but not sign either Abdullah or Grega. I stand up to stretch my legs when suddenly I hear the running of footsteps and when I turn around all I see is a light brighter than the sun. My vision is white and my ears are ringing, I feel a burning sensation on my head and a warm liquid oozes out of my eyes; darkness soon replaces the burning white.

I feel no pain, this is nothing when compared to the pain that I endured in hell; now I’m back and nothing on Heaven or Hell will stop me. I open my eyes, and see the back of a man in what some kind of samurai armour. I slowly take out my gun while doing a quick prayer for his life, and pounce at him like a lion let out of his cage. The man turns as I tackle him, and I am blind yet again, I fire into what should be his stomach, I fire twice but I hear the bullets ricochet off metal. My sight returns to me and I can hear clearly once more, but I see nothing but a shadowy figure in my hands. The figure dissolves in my hands and into thin air; what sorcery is this I ask myself? I hear a voice, coming from all around me,

“Who are you?”

I am sure my eyes and ears are fully healed, but I cannot see or hear him; his voice sounds close to me and yet far away.

“I demand to know what you are. Tell me or die.”

I can’t track him, I feel my heartbeat grow in fear and I can feel the beast inside my trying to crawl out, but I won’t let myself become controlled.
“Looks like you just need some motivation.”
I feel my legs burning, and my body falls to the ground; I couldn’t track him, I didn’t feel anything other than the pain. I am losing control of the monster that lives inside me. I close my eyes; I start to focus, and the world grows dull around me. I can still hear his voice, everywhere.
“Last chance”
I can feel it, true pain, the beast inside me trying to claw out, trying to rip me apart. I cannot hold the beast; he has started to escape and I feel my grip loose on his leash. I can feel my senses growing sharper; I can hear his heart, I can smell his fear.
“Die.”
I can hear him coming, he’s moving in slow motion and I let him come to me. He strikes at empty air; I open my eyes and see fear. I grab him by the throat and squeeze, and he tries to pry open my grip. I hear him gasping for air, and I squeeze as hard as I can. I can hear the bones crack, and his body goes limp. My body wants to feast, but I won’t let the best control me and I throw the body at the ground. I calm myself down, and I breathe as slow as I can and I feel pain once again. I turn and see the man that should be dead standing with two swords in my chest. The man shows no visible injuries and his face is calm, but I can still smell his fear. The beast wants out, and I cannot stop it, my body is now controlled by a monster with bloodlust. I shouldn’t be transformed for this long; I should stop myself before I lose control. I push myself deeper into the swords and grab his hands; the fear in him grows, and he starts pulling back, but it’s too late; for both of us.
I begin to bite his neck, blood trickling down into my mouth, and I feel my strength grow. I continue biting into his neck looking like a ravenous dog, losing any control I had left. I feel my body grow numb, and my vision goes red; the beast has taken control, and I cannot stop the slightest movement. I see Grega manage to get out of my vice grip and leaves the swords in my chest, and then a flash comes out of nowhere and I see dual swords in Grega’s hands . Grega rushes me, and manages to cut my arms off before I can react; I see him smile, but the monster cannot be stopped, only delayed. I can see my arms grow back and fully heal in less than 2 seconds, and I can see Grega’s fear as he backs up. I fight the beast for control, but he won’t give me an inch; I’ve never lost control for this long, and I fear that I may be stuck this way forever. I can see Grega start to retreat, I can see him run to the other side of the room; there’s only about 30 yards of space between me and Grega. The fool doesn’t have enough space to escape and it seems that he has calmed himself down. As he looks around I can see that he has seen his demise is inevitable, and he doesn’t try to run; the fool stands with his swords at his side. He’s waiting, calmly waiting, for the beast and the beast complies, rushing at him with speed that is inhuman, fitting for the monster. I can see Grega as the monster rushes toward him, and I can see his calm face start to change. Fear, the fool fears death even to the very end, his mouth hangs wide open. No, not fear, madness; I see his mouth turn to a smile, and I can hear his cackling, I see his feet start to move, and his hands start to rise.

I can hear lighting strike inside the room. Lighting? Inside?

I can smell flesh burning, and I can see the roof. How did I get on my back? Then I see his face, a twisted smile on his blood soaked face, and I can hear his laughter, mocking me, and enjoying my pain. His fingers snap, and I hear what must be lighting. My body feels pain, true pain; his cackles start to fade, but the pain stays with me.

The monster has been stopped; stopped by a greater one.

 

[DiebytheSword]

Read Clen's round, waiting on Grega. Remember, until Grega submits his, it is legal to edit yours.

 

[Grega]

“Get up!”

A call from the darkness echoed in his mind, as he felt hard and cold surroundings.

“I said! Get up!”

The voice sounded louder this time, as if the person calling was standing less than a meter away.

“I said! Get your ass up prisoner!”

Feeling pain in the chest area made him realize what was going on. Slowly regaining his vision before heeling more pain from a second kick to the stomach. A guard standing over him with an angry look on his average prison guard face. The guard grabbed the prisoner by the hair and pulled him up to a sitting position, where the light from the torch in the hallway could illuminate his face. The guard let go of the young prisoners brown hair, grabbed him by the collar of the dirty looking prison rags and forced him to stand up.

“Your sentence has been decided”

“Give me a break” replied the prisoner knocking the hand holding his shirt away “I was only in here for a day and you already decided what to do with me”.

The guard hit the prisoner with the back of his spear into the gut “Shut up! The commander wants to speak with you”

From the poorly illuminated hallway footsteps were heard echoing along the walls of the empty cells. Shortly after a shadow appeared on the wall opposite the door, followed by a figure that seemed important. It was a man in his forties wearing a red and blue uniform with a blue hat and black boots, the five medals on his chest were shining in the light of the torch flames and the rank on his shoulder identified him to be colonel rank. He was accompanied by two guards shearing the the same chest-plate with a helmet that served more of a decorative purpose than a defensive one, brown knee high boots and red uniforms underneath their so-called armor .

“Man, it stinks of mold in there!” said the commander when he reached the door to the cell “Whats the status of the prisoner Williams?”

The guard stepped towards the cell door pushing the prisoner in front of him revealing his own uniform, that was like a copy of the other guards “The sleeping ugly is ready to talk”

“Hey I never said...” the prisoner was interrupted by a hit in the back of his head.

“You don't talk unless spoken to!” continued the guard.

“That will be enough.” the commander stopped further words “I need a word with him in the private interrogation room.” He looked at the young prisoner “Any last requests before we behead you?”

“Well you could give me my clothes back”

“Very well” the commander looked at the guard on his right “Bring his armor to the interrogation room.”

Williams shoved the young man though the door and the remaining guard put handcuffs on him. Then the commander gave the sign to take him away. As they started to walk down the hallway towards the interrogation room memories started to appear in the young mans mind.

---------------​

Dawn has broken the long night over the boarder town named “Feistos” after the third emperor of the Holy Empire, Martin Feist von Lanterange. The Lantergange dynasty spanned the throne of the country for over a thousand years and in its history of conflicts it had only recently declared a peace treaty, with the neighboring republic of Germania, that was signed only half a year ago. The people were still weary from the war since they were a boarder town so some tension was still felt in their everyday lives. The streets and buildings were still being repaired and the people were slowly returning to their homes trying to regain their lives. A man on a motor bike drove into town wearing a strange looking brown cloak and an armor underneath, with dark clothes separating his skin from the armored pieces. He drove up to a building that was waiting to be demolished and rebuilt due to damages exceeding repair possibilities. Due to some freak miracle it was still standing though, but it was declared a danger zone. He went behind a building into a small alley with a couple of wooden crates and some boxes lying round.

“Guess this is it” he thought to himself as he saw a box with the number “23443” painted on its side. He opened the lid and pulled out a silver suitcase.

“Lets see the combination for this thing is five, five, nine if I recall”

As soon as the suitcase opened a phone from inside started to ring, and the man opened the case and picked it up.

“Your mission is to steal the object in the photo. You will be compensated for all your troubles”

Before the man could reply the caller hung up and the phone had been altered to not record any calls. The man looked into the suitcase and saw only two more items, a picture and a note.

The note read “Your target is located in the empires royal palace next to the emperors sleeping quarters.”

The picture was of a small diamond said to be owned by the first emperor himself and had become a national treasure over the centuries and stealing it would not be to easy.

The man got back on his bike and drove off to the place where the first emperor deemed that the empire will last an eternity, and thus named the city Ethernia. The city was blooming with life since the war had not reached it. The buildings round the castle seemed like they had rich owners and all had fancy stone decorations and portals with the empires crest sculpted into the very top of the arch. The castle walls were surrounded by a mote and some rare trees. The castle itself had one big bate to the west and four towers and walls going from tower to tower. It had seven floors and looked pretty much like any other Celtic castle.

Upon arrival he started to inspect areas of the castle where tourists had access to and also made a mental image of the castle ground map that was hanging on the wall showing all possible escapes in case of a fire. The tourist areas were more of a museum with pictures of the empires past, portraits of past emperors and also armors worn by the empires soldiers through history. He then waited until nightfall before making his move.

He climbed the highest tree growing in the northern most area and waited there for the guards to pass the spot, he then used a grappling hook and a rope to climb up to the top of the wall. He double checked for any guards and proceeded to move to the northeast tower and hid himself in a beam supporting the roof structure. Shortly after two guards came along on their regular patrol. He dropped down and shot the first guard into the head with a silenced pistol and then with swift move grabbed the other guard by the head. The guard let out a quick and shallow voice before fell to the floor silently. The thief then disguised himself as one of the guards in a small flash of light using his illusion ability. He hid both bodies behind some crates and moved out of the tower along the wall and into the castle itself.

When he reached the fifth floor he noticed an increased guard presence.

“Make way for the emperor” a man yelled accompanying the current emperor Ludvik von Lanterange the Fourth.

He stepped aside and saluted along with the others when the emperor passed them and then secretly followed the emperor to where his sleeping quarters were. He waited round a while pretending to be doing his rounds and then when there were only a few guards before he made his move. He made an illusion of a man coming round the corner who looked just as the first emperor himself. With the guards in confusion he sneaked into the treasure chamber.

Just when he was about to take the diamond he felt a presence coming from the ceiling. It would seem that there was a hidden door that led to that place from the roof and it was disguised as part of the ceiling decoration. A man jumped down through that door wearing a black suit and a red tie, along with black shoes and sunglasses. Immediately after landing the man pulled out a gun with a silencer and aimed it towards the thief.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“The name is Grega” the thief replied while turning to face the unknown aggressor “And what I'm doing here is none of your business”

The moment he finished speaking he threw his left arm straight forward with an open palm and the man standing in front of him pulled the trigger, but the bullet deflected as if hitting a wall. A fraction of a second later his right arm emitted a glow that took the shape of a throwing knife, and he threw it directly at the hitmans face but it was swatted away by the gun he was holding. Before anything else could happen Grega was already up close with a short sword leaned against the opponents neck.

“Now you introduce yourself and your business here for me” up close he was also able to identify the gun, which was a black ruger Mk-1.

“I'm an assassin with orders from the organization. My name isn't important, though people call me the Ruger man.”

Before Grega was able to react the assassin took out a hand grenade with his free hand and pulled the pin out with his thumb. Sensing danger Grega jumped back and his short sword changed into a one handed medium length sword and his other hand got one that was like a duplicate. Ruger threw the grenade over the thief's head and charged forward firing exactly two shots, that were deflected by the swordsman, and then smashed into Grega sending him flying backwards into the wall with the grenade landing in front of him and exploding. Grega had just enough time to let go of the swords and point both hands forward materializing a large metallic shield, but the blast still made him fly though the stone wall into the emperors bedroom. Alarmed by the sound, six guards dan into the bedroom, but there was no sign of Ruger anywhere and only Grega was lying on the floor amidst the rubble.

“IT'S AN ASSASSIN!” screamed one of the guards as the intruder got up.

Grega quickly materialized two swords and charged the guards running past the first one and stabbing the one behind him, letting go of the sword he made a turn and cut don the one do the left and with the other hand materialized a gun shooting the one on the right and kicking the one he charged past towards the emperors bed at the other side of the wall. But before he could continue the remaining two guards charged him one after another from behind. While he was successful in dodging the first guard he got hit on the head by the second, falling to the floor and loosing consciousness.

He was then tied up with his hands behind his back and taken towards the dungeon below the eastern tower. From the roof the assassin looked down at the guards hauling the captive towards the dungeon, picking up his phone and pressing the redial button.

“Status report” said the voice on the other end.

“Mission temporarily suspended due to unforeseen problems. There was another intruder and thanks to his interference the guards are now on high alert. Though it seems he was caught, it would be a problem if I had to face him again. I don't know if I can handle him in an all out fight.” replied Ruger.

“Thats misfortunate, but we will give you one more chance. He will probably be publicly executed as an enemy of the empire before tomorrow ends. The target will be there. Eliminate the target or face the consequence of failure.” the person hung up right afterwards.

“I know...” mumbled the assassin to himself placing his hand on his chest above where the heart is located.

---------------​

Arriving at the interrogation room the commander and the prisoner entered and minutes later came out with the prisoner having a gag in his mouth and the commander dragging him by the collar and throwing him to the guards.

“He knows to many national secrets and is therefore considered a national risk. Make sure he does not say a word until he parts with his head.” ordered the commander and the guards grabbed the prisoner taking him towards the execution grounds.

The prisoner tried to resist fiercely with his face showing desperation, but he could not break free from the guards grip. Walking down the hallway towards the courtyard where the guillotine was already prepared for him the prisoner was becoming more and more desperate to the point of tears coming from his eyes, the commander just watched him struggle and smirked a bit when the prisoner saw a glimpse of his face returning to his normal serious look right afterwards. Upon reaching the end of the hallway the guard opened the door and the dawn light shined in exposing the guillotine an an audience consisting of the emperor and a full regiment of guards. As they dragged him towards the final stop of his life the commander left them and headed towards the back of the public saying he has a special place he wants to see the execution. The prisoners head was placed onto the guillotine and locked in place, moments before the command was given by the emperor to drop the blade separating the head from the body. In shock the guards realized the head that fell to the ground was not that of the prisoner, but instead head and body were switched to those of the commander.....

 

[DiebytheSword]

Both entries were had scattered typographical and grammatical errors. And though I don't judge them as primary criteria, they can lead to a decision if a draw is otherwise decided. Be forewarned.

That aside, both entries were imaginative and well constructed save for Clen's minor shifting between 1st and 3rd person. Advantage Grega.

Clen's use of 1st person was very well done, avoiding the pitfalls associated with the style in an action enviroment. Clen also gave Grega's character an interesting mystique. Clen's supporting characters also had more depth than Grega's. On the other side of things, Grega's shifting scenes were well implemented, including the twist with the commander at the end. Grega also portrayed the ruger man very well, giving him great stealth and cunning to offset his lack of mystical powers, minus the the bloodsucking of course. I have to give the advantage here to clen.

Grega's fight was slightly better flowing than Clen's, and I got the sense that Clen was trying to undersell his character to amp up his advesary, he also crammed all the fighting into one paragraph at the end. Grega also had better use of the countries at war angle, including them in his fight. Ultimately, this is what gives Grega the edge here. Both writers used the other character's abilities very well, both fights had interesting angles.

A tough call you both have things to work towards in round two.

Decision is for Grega, by a very narrow margin.

 

[clen]

Well, my computer just decided to break down for no apparent reason and don't have money to take it to a technician atm. I know there's no actual time limit to these fights but I don't like to make a person wait. So unfortunately, for me, I'll have to forfeit.