Slaver's Arena - Tuv Vs. Burning Ice Vs. Xael

Dyso threw a glance at the old man who seemed to be on the defensive, then turned his attention back to Artua, who had gone airborne.
He just has one trick after another... So now he's a flying lotus? Well, I doubt he can use that material to fly with, so it's not likely that he can dodge. And now that I think of it, it seems as though he is confident in it's defensive capabilities. This will be his downfall.

Dyso pulled out a dagger and inscribed a specialized rune into it, and threw it at Artua. When next struck, it would break apart into a cloud of specially shaped particles, similar to the disintegration rune.

The mage was in the air, and the white haired warrior was throwing more of his knives. With the cut on his neck safely bandaged Torin shut out the pain, and redoubled his efforts, managing to finish the dome of portals about him, and creating another, with a greater radius around him.
Soon...soon your sight will be little more than a hindrance
More and more, the portals began to form the groundwork of many concentric domes, about 2 feet between each ring. Torin furrowed his brow, as sweat began to trickle down his face. Each individual portal was no more difficult to open than it was to lift a small rock, but the sheer number he was attempting to open was approaching his limit. It would ease soon he knew, it was easier to maintain the portals than to create them, but the knowledge did little to ease his current burden

Artua dropped the leaves off of his lotus, falling quickly and avoiding the cloud of metal. Landing a few feet from Dyso, Artua formed a great two-handed sword, and began swinging madly, and running towards him.

Unexpectedly, the man dropped from his lotus and charged towards Dyso, sword in hand.
What's this? A fairly straight forward tactic. Well, this should only make things easier then.

Dyso leaped back a few times so that his back was now against the wall. He inscribed a rune on it. He opened it, causing a large cubic section of wall to fly towards Artua, with himself riding on top of it., and inscribing his dagger with a rune.

The groundwork was set up, layer after layer of grayspace portals, forming into shells, each shell about 3.5 feet apart, nearly covering the floor of the arena pit. He didn't bother with anything above the upper wall of the arena pit, nor anything outside the pit, the sheer number of portals he had open as is was difficult enough. He began to form more portals, giving the shells height, wall after wall of gray seeming to arise from the ground. Sweat ran down his brow in rivulets as he finished construction. Gasping it was all he could do to crawl out of the center of the rings, displacing himself from the most obvious target, he collapsed on the ground. It was easier now, and soon he would be able to gain his feet again. Maintaining was easier by far than creating. Still for now he could do little more than try to catch his breath, while his mind dealt with having to bear this new burden.

Artua's vision was obscured now, he knew his opponent's was too. Artua knew that large block was bearing down on him, even if he couldn't see it.The short glimpse that Artua had of the block, and the speed it was moving, told him that he had to react quickly, pushing off from the ground with his right foot, and detonating some mana to propel him several feet to the side. Then he had a great idea, "Heh, i know how i can see through this" Thought Artua, and he began to spread a thin layer of energy across the arena floor. "Soon it will cover the entire area, and I can FEEL where they are."

Suddenly Dyso's vision was obscured by ebony walls. It didn't take but a moment for him to realize that they were harmless, as he passed through one.
That old man just loves to blind people. I wonder how he sees? It must be magic in some form or other...

Dyso leaped from the block over Atrua's head moments before collision. He finished inscribing the rune on his dagger, and threw it at the block, turning it into a wave of sand. Then he pulled yet another dagger out and began to inscribe a rune on it.
I'm running out of daggers... four left now... my spear is over there... my knives are with me, but are hardly something I can defend myself with...

Torin lay face down on the rough grainy surface. He was distantly aware of the scuffle in the distance but he couldn't bring himself to care much about it. The breath seeming to rasp in his throat, he shakily pushed himself up to his knee's, only to fall back. Twisting himself into a cross legged position he paused once more to catch his breath.
In this condition I cannot hope to fight either of my foemen, at least....not directly
This would serve only to deplete his mana source but at least his body would soon recover. He pulled out a small knife and began to inscribe a simple rune on the ground, within a moment the rune was complete and Torin started work on another, surrounding the first.

Artua had yet another idea. He would use his opponent's vision-disrupting ability to his own aid. "The blind man must use some method to track his opponents, something to do with movement perhaps? As smell and sound would be hampered by these bandits." Thought Artua, "Either way, it behooves me to stay put" Artua had covered about a third of the arena with his veil, though he had yet to notice either of his foes.

Artua began to form masses, masses which brimmed with small menacing barbed spikes, spaced evenly apart, in concentric circles around him. When one approached the masses, the constant pressure of bodyweight, triggers the mass to explode, extending the barbs out around the area in a quick and painful fashion, and then retracting them into the veil of energy, pulling his foes to the ground, or ripping at flesh, and replenishing his supply of energy.

Artua thought it best to bide his time as a hazard, rather than seek his foes out. And so formed a dome around him, of great thickness.

Dyso noticed in his short interval of sight that Artua was no longer where he had been., but instead there were faint scorch marks.
That explains the explosion I heard earlier...

As Dyso landed, he twisted his ankle, and fell over.
I used too much energy at once... I need to find cover...
He pulled himself up and used his good leg to jump into the pile of sand, where he drew a rune into that made it form into a rough sphere around him and solidify. He finished it off by inscribing a rune into in to fortify it against blunt force.

That should hold against the any assaults the orange man can throw at me... but the old man seems to have a greater variety of powers. Will he have one that can penetrate this?

Torin carefully finished the outer ring, removed his gloves and gently ran his hands over it to check it for mistakes. Finding none, he inched forward, the closer he was the easier this would be. Summoning up his reserves of mana he placed his hand on the center rune, and let his power flow into it.
Easy now...mustn't rush it.
At first nothing seemed to happen but after a moment he heard a small tapping as the pebbles and grains of stone bounced up and down on the stone floor. Slowly he began to feel as if he was being gently pulled away from the rune, he strengthened his grip and pulled himself forward, holding up his knees so he sat on the very edge of the rune itself.
Hold fast, I can't stop yet.
He poured yet more power into the rune and listened intently. The tapping was gone now, along with the pebbles. Instead he heard a multitude of sharp cracks. With his other hand he felt the ground behind him seem to ripple, very gently. He stretched farther back. The ripple was still there but more noticeable, the spaces between the peaks and troughs was greater, but so too was the difference in height between the two.
By the time it gets to those two the waves should be nearly 4 feet in height
He sat and listened, as he heard rocks crack against walls as they were flung through the air and smiled to himself.
The floor won't break, so long as the rune is active it will remain whole and as easily rippling as a liquid...but still...I wonder how long the walls will last?
He grinned all the more, and listened to the cacophony.

"This is taking too long" thought Artua, "It is time to release it". Artua deconstructed his mines, stopped for a moment, and stood up. What issued forth from his mouth could shatter souls, a laugh so fel and terrible, that many bandits were drawn aback.

Artua's scar glowed black, and black fire ran across his energy. In an instant the area he had covered was drenched in ebony napalm. He rose several feet in the air, as if upon a fountain of burning darkness. Tentacles lashing from his body in disgusting fits. "I WILL END YOU" Yelled Artua, in a painfully deep voice.

Dyso had sat down in his shell to consider his next move, hoping that the orange man and the old man would fight each other now. Suddenly he felt the shell vibrating, and then his stomach sank as he and his shell were tossed over the wave.
What happened? The orange man can't see me, so this is likely the work of the old man. And what was that sound? Laughter? It sounds like someone screamed as well...

Dyso cringed as the ball landed. Then almost immediately, he felt warm.
Where has this heat come from?
Then he was propelled back into the air as another wave hit him.

Torin was blind. He almost always was but usually he could sense the world around him through one means or another, now however he was well and truly blind. He had been forced to retract his movement sense to a bare sphere around his head to stop from being overwhelmed by the motions of the ground, and the noise of stones crashing against the walls and flying into the stands was loud, then the earth itself slamming against the walls time and again the whole thing deafened him to all but the loudest of sounds, for example the strange high pitched sound he had heard a moment ago, either laughter or screaming, of the two he guessed screaming. He was sure the walls must be cracked and crumbling by now. Still no sense in taking chances, he poured his mana into the rune steadily, feeding the vibration.
Careful now...this next will take timing
As his mana supplies dwindled he tensed his legs. He would look a fool doing this but no one would be able to see him anyway. He pushed off and tucked his body in low, quickly shifting his hands. One complicated movement later his hands were on the outer rune, the inner one he had been powering abandoned, his legs in the air. Quickly he gathered up his remaining mana and dumped it into the outer rune all in one go.
The result was immediate and catastrophic. The outer rune had been amplifying and adding to the movement of the stone waves, however once the inner rune had been abandoned the stone had lost it's liquid-like properties. Dumping all his remaining mana into the amplifier rune had forced the stone to move but as the liquid properties had left it there was only one option it had.
SHHHRAAACK!
The waves in the stone had shattered and froze when the new wave of motion rushed through, shards(about a foot long and perhaps 1/3 that at widest and yes, pointed) of stone tore themselves off with force as though launched from a ballista, flying in all directions. Cracks raced across the ground from any point of departure...or re-entry. The shards filled the air flying in every direction, near obscuring the sky. They were thickest in number near the edge where the waves had been at their highest and most violent in their motion. However the center of the mini-quake had not been without it's own break-offs.
Immediately after dumping the last of his mana into the rune he expanded his sense of motion. Two, six, eight then twelve feet he felt, he was lucky only 4 shards coming towards him. His arms went limp and he collapsed on the ground, three shards missing him completely, the last just nicking the tip of his boot as he fell.
As he lay on the ground he relaxed his mind, and he gray-space portals winked out one by one, slowly at first but picking up speed as they went along.

Artua was hit by a wave, and then another, when suddenly, *CRACK* the world shattered like glass. His head, chest and legs were well protected, taking only minor wounds, his arms however, were not so lucky. Large shards had embedded themselves into his arms, some even impaling them. The stone heated up and cauterized the wounds, there would be no blood, but they would never work quite the same again.

Bandits lay about, dead or dying, those who had survived with minor injuries sought their bretheren to rain death upon the combatants.

The pain was immense, but soon drifted away, numbed by anger. "I WILL NOT LET MYSELF BE OUTDONE BY A WHELP LIKE YOU!" Yelled Artua in a tone of pure malignancy. The world had exploded once, and it did again, but this time in fire. Tendrils swept across the arena, burning corpses, and grabbing legs. Fire rained from the sky, hanging bandits with stark nooses. One man who was nearest to Artua, melted away, as the leather he wore, boiled away.

And Artua laughed as he scoured the arena free of any signs of life.

Dyso heard several loud thumps against his shell as it was battered by the spikes. Most were glancing blows, and the rest shattered against the shell, taking a chunk of it away with them. The ball crashed into the ground again. Dyso felt a bit dizzy and battered, but other than that he was fine. The waves had stopped. He dissolved a hole in it with a rune and climbed out to see Artua was now a monster, and Torin coming down off of his handstand.
That heat I felt earlier... it came from the orange man. Just what is he? a daemon? He seems to be wielding an immense amount of fire... I wonder how much he has in him?

Dyso drew a dagger and inscribed it with two runes; The first would alter it to absorb energy and convert it to mass, the second would turn it into a cloud of particles which would retain said property. He threw it above Artua, where it exploded into dust and began absorbing heat.

Torin lay still, listening to the screams, the moaning and yelling, and the general noise about the place. None of it seemed to matter much anymore. He was so tired, so very tired, his arms spread-eagled, he turned his unseeing eye to the sky.
The sun must be out. It's so warm the thoughts floated around his head.
He lay there, his coat open, he had lost his staff sometime during the quake, and, he noticed for the first time, his hat with it. The heat grew greater, and he heard screams and roars, none of it really mattered now though, he couldn't seem to stand up. The world, already a dark place to him faded out, even the sounds dimmed to nothing. There was absolute darkness, and silence, it was comfortably warm and so peaceful. So very peaceful, he drifted for a time, for how long he could not say, for in that void time seemed to mean nothing. He thought back, and found he couldn't seem to remember how he had come to be here, what his name was or indeed, anything at all. He just drifted, and relaxed.
Then a voice not his own echoed through the void.
"NO! I will not allow it! You owe me a debt yet boy!"
Suddenly the peaceful void was shattered by pain. Torin sat bolt upright, every muscle in his body protesting loudly. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his vision, what little of it there was, swam. He rolled onto his knees and stood uncertainly. He took one step and collapsed to his knee's again, his legs unwilling to bear his weight.
Now on hands and knees he crawled towards the walls.
Blood and ashes, what a fool I've been, to use a rune like that, I could have died. Spirits! Did I? Regardless I must find a way out.

Artua reveled in the carnage. Bandits fleeing for their lives, burning to death, blood everywhere. The blind man was nowhere to be seen and... "oh what is this now?" a dagger flew from behind a crag. "someone still alive to play with!" thought Artua.

He glided over the arena atop his pillar of flame, like the grim reaper towards a house of the elderly. He reached where the dagger had flown from, and found the other man, quivering in fear from his presence. "Ahh, I think I will tone the fire down a bit for you... Make you suffer a bit" Said Artua. As he sent out several tendrils of fire to bar the man's escape.

There is still a chance that my ploy may work... however I am in too much danger here... I hate to do this, but I have little choice.
As Artua's tendrils grew closer, Dyso pulled out a knife and stabbed himself in the chest, then fell over, seemingly dead, into a deep hole in the rubble. He hit the ground hard, and before passing out, he inscribed a rune in the rubble around him to form a rough criss-cross pattern across the hole he had just fallen through, blocking it off.

On hands and knee's Torin crawled. Blind and terrified he pushed on. His hand came down on a ledge, one of the many crags left by his earth shattering maneuver. The already tortured rock crumbled under his weight and Torin rolled, slid and tumbled down the steep incline. Landing roughly in a sharp mini canyon it was litte more than a second before the newly dislodged debris fell atop him.
Wincing at his newly garnered collection of cuts bruises and scrapes Torin tensed to scramble out from beneath the rocks, then slowed, and stopped.
Burn me! What the hell was I thinking shattering the ground like that? I may be able to track a gnat on a moonless night but it doesn't help me unless the ground moves. Now think. From the sounds there's a demon loose behind me. I can't cross this ground without my staff to guide me, nor do I dare search for it so long as that...thing is loose behind me. So long story short I'm stuck in a small hole with a big bear. My only hope is to play dead.
Settling yet deeper into the rocks Torin closed his eyes and let his muscles go limp, praying the demon, or mage or whatever it was that was behind him would not find him.
Silently he began to think up a new rune, in this case one for sealing another being into a confined area. He hd always found it payed to adapt in accordance with losses.

The man Artua sought to trap, stabbed himself and tumbled down between the rocks, "NOT EVEN DEATH CAN HIDE YOU FROM ME WHELP!" The bandits were dead, ashes filled the skies, and Artua sought to finish off this one last foe, melt the rock upon his corpse, or worse.

Artua raised up, ready to strike at the crevasse, and then a wave shot over him. The fires went out, the energy disappeared, and Artua fell to the earth.