[CoB] Round of 16: Lessa vs Alkor

[Daeron 1]

With banners wavering in the sky, a poster has been brought up in front of the battle arena.

Lessa vs Alkor

 

it reads. As the the day moves on both players finally make it to the arena. With seats filled just about everywhere, players from all floors have come to see the match up. Gamblers have also come out on the rise on who will be the victor of this fight inside of the gambling house. A few rules are brought before the players before they are about to begin clashing blades against one another's throats and stomachs.

 

• NO Healing Crystals
• NO Pets
• A player may only equip up to 3 enhanced items (which you must clearly state in the beginning of your first post.)
• Players will be set to 30 HP. First player to 0, will be eliminated from the Tournament.

 

As the players are forced to accept the rules of the arena, a countdown goes down from 10. As the number reaches 0, the timer finally goes away and it states: "BEGIN"

[Lessa 1]

The woman was dressed for battle. Her silver breastplate was lined with pink, and delicate roses were etched into its surface. A matching gauntlet adorned each hand, and they caught the light with each movement she made. Then, there was Hell Rose. The blade was her pride and joy, and it had kept her alive for as long as she had been in the game. It was not perfect quality, but she had never once considered trading it out. It gave off its own pink light, and it seemed to grow even brighter than ever before today.

The light given off by her sword was matched only by the light in the woman's blue eyes. They shone with a fierceness that many had never seen before. Her pale pink lips wore a small smirk as she looked her opponent up and down. This was the Lessa who had spent hours playing Call of Duty in her basement, just so her kill/death ratio would be better than that of her brothers. The Lessa who had raced father to the barn nearly every morning, and pouted during chores if he beat her there. The Lessa who wanted nothing more than to rise above her opponent. And today, that opponent was her best friend.

As Lessa squared off against Alkor, she found herself focusing only on him. She drowned out the crowd, letting their chants grow dim around her. Her peripheral vision grew hazy as her gaze bore into the cloaked figure. Everything was different this time. She did not need to worry about him taking damage, as he could not die. And she did not need to fear his attacks, as she could not die either. The need for survival, and the desire to protect those she cared about, simply disappeared. This was all a game, and Lessa was good at games.

Stats

HP: 30/30

DMG: base, +1 (Athletics) +2 (sword) + 3 (two-handed skill) = 7.

DMG MIT: 3 (breastplate)

ACC: 2 (gauntlets)

Life Steal: 1 (gauntlets)

Equipment

1. Rose Breastplate (+3 DMG MIT)

2. Rose Gauntlets (+2 ACC, +1 Life Steal)

3. Hell Rose - Claymore (+2 DMG)

[Guest]

His sword cleared the sheath with a sinister hiss, and Alkor regarded Lessa with a cold gaze. This was not the cruel world of SAO, wherein compassion and kindness ruled and maintained the status quo. Before donning the NerveGear, Thom had spent endless hours with punching bags, kicking trees, doing push ups, running laps...

This was business, not personal. The blade she had gifted him now faced her with a sinister gleam that she might finally live to regret. Alkor looked beyond the irony to the challenge ahead, and with every step that closed the distance between them, abolished the conflict within himself.

She would not die here today, even if he ran her through. Even if he nailed her to the dusty floor and left her there, someone could eventually let her up and she would walk again. This tournament lacked the penalty of the death game.

That made this much, much easier. "You can take the first move," he called to her. Alkor knew, with her heavy armor, he would be quite a bit harder to hit.

Stats: 30/30 Temporary HP

Damage Base 1, +1 Athletics, +3 One Handed Straight Sword skill, +3 (sword) 8 Damage, Bleed 1 on 8-10 BD

Damage Mit: 1 (Cloak)

Evasion +3 (2 Cloak, +1 Sprint)

Accuracy +2 (Gloves)

Equipment:

Lionheart Cloak: +2 Evasion, 1 Damage Mitigation

Genji's gloves: 2 Accuracy, Bleed 1 on 8-10 BD

Nightbringer: +3 Damage

[Lessa 1]

She drew her sword with a long, metalic hiss.

Lessa knew that she would not be able to outrun Alkor. He was far too quick, and he would easily be able to dodge her attacks. But what he did not have was protection, and she had plenty of it. Her best bet would be to come in hard and heavy, and pray that her big hits found their mark. If they did not, she would just have to depend on her heavy armor to keep her in the game long enough to see victory.

With this in mind, Lessa made the first move. The spectators roared as she moved into action, picking up as much speed as she could muster. She held her weapon at her side, and as she neared him, she crossed the blade upward across her body. It was so, so wrong, putting her blade to the person she cared most about in SAO. Its just a game! the voice in her mind screamed.

But that moment of hesitation had been enough. Just as she had anticipated, Alkor ducked her blade. The woman growled, turning on her heel to face the speed-demon. The return attack would come, and it would come quickly. She knew that much.

{[1534] Battle: 5 + 2 (accuracy) - 3 (Alkor's evasion) = 4. Lessa's attack misses.}

Lessa: 30/30

Alkor: 30/30

[Guest]

He had always known that hesitation was not in his nature. Lessa rushed forward and her body told Alkor all he needed to know. It was something she couldn't commit to. He danced effortlessly out of the way of her blade and surged up beneath the rosy claymore.

His blade thrust forward. Go for the throat. There was something inhuman and cold in his eyes as he moved his blade with villainous precision. Fluidly the dark stain moved through the light that spilled over the area, locked with the wild, thorny rose that stood against it.

Nightbringer raked across Lessa's armor, the blow softened by her armor. Alkor snorted indignantly and staggered backward, drunk on the bloodlust that he allowed to impair his emotions. Feelings would only get in the way here.

It was a scary sight, Alkor slouched over and swathed in shadow. Like a trained killer, almost, he eyed her, circling, watching, waiting for a moment of weakness. His free hand caressed the flat of his blade almost lovingly, and he shifted his feet so that he faced Lessa with the side of his body, the tip of the blade pointed toward her parallel to his face.

He would speak with his sword.

[iD: 1545, BD: 6]

Damage: 8 (-3, Lessa's mitigation) =5

Alkor: 30/30

Lessa: 25/30

[Lessa 1]

Though her armor absorbed some of the hit, Alkor's powerful strike sent the woman falling backward. She threw out one foot, and caught herself before she could fall over. But it did not take a glance at her health bar to tell her he had dealt some serious damage.

Part of her was hurt by his action. Sure, this was all a contest. She could not die, and this was the whole point of the challenge. But that look in his amber eyes when he had struck her had been chilling; they had been completely bereft of emotion. His actions had been crisp, clean, and made without hesitation. He's a monster, insisted that little voice. A machine. And putting her at the end of his blade had not bothered him in the slightest.

But that was only a part of her. A small, faint part of her. Most of her being was overcome with a sense of anger. So that's how its going to be, huh? boomed a louder voice, drowning out the hurt and the hesitation. She had paused once, and it had backfired. If he was going to turn it off, so would she. If he was going to treat her as an enemy, she would do the same.

She knew just where he was, and this time, there was no lead up. She lashed out with her heavy blade, but he was already gone. Lessa roared with frustration.

{[1583] Battle: 6 + 2 (accuracy) - 3 (evasion) = 5. Lessa's attack misses.}

Lessa: 25/30

Alkor: 30/30

[Guest]

Her blade whisked by again, and Alkor watched it in what felt like slow motion. Eyes like a bird of prey stalked their target down to the instant where she committed herself to the strike. In the moment, he pounced.

It had been the smallest of motions, a fraction of an inch that separated him from her strike. A moment's hesitation would have seen him struck with a monstrous blow; Alkor was beyond that now. There were no distractions or weights holding him back. There was an obstacle, and beyond, there was victory. Like an island in a sea of bodies.

His weapon raced forward in the inches between them like a hound after a thrown steak. The passion had bled out of those eyes, replaced with a cold, grim determination; he fought like a demon dressed as a man.

He spun back to back with her when Nightbringer glanced off her armor with a hail of sparks, twisting to slice a clean blow across the nape of her neck. It would be just as clean and efficient as the last, if not as damaging as he'd hoped.

Alkor bled away from the wound, orienting himself back into a ready stance with the blade held out in front of him, one hand on the hilt and the other on the blades edge. She was a thirsty weapon, impossible to slake.

When first he had bought Sword Art Online, he had designs on being involved in Player versus Player. Once he learned that it meant becoming a murder in reality, he had relented- but this, this battlefield? This was his guilty pleasure.

In turn, it would give him strength to use against the bosses, to help with clearing floors. Why not aim for the top?

[iD: 1587, BD: 6]

Damage: 8 (-3) =5

Alkor: 30/30

Lessa: 20/30

[Lessa 1]

And with the same machine-like precision, he slashed at her again. This time, the woman did venture a glance at her health bar. Just like that, he had cut down a third of her health. It was unacceptable.

Her hands tightened within her gauntlets, squeezing her heavy claymore's hilt tighter. She focused all of her energy there, willing the rose-tinted blade to find her mark this time. She was tired of falling to him every time. Once, he had been her mentor. He had picked her up on the street when she was a lowly level one. He had led her through the motions, helping her find her feet. Then, it had been appreciated. She had loved being under his wing for those first few months.

But times had changed. She was now levels above him. She ran her own guild. People looked up to her. She had done this for herself. While Alkor had been off sulking somewhere, insisting on being alone like he was some big mystery, she had been getting stronger. Why the hell should she remain in his shadow any longer?

With another cry, Hell Rose slashed through the air toward her flighty opponent. The audience moved with the blade, rising to their feet as the girl delivered another powerful blow. Unfortunately, there was no one there to receive it. Again, he had out-hustled her. It seemed her heavy armor was no match for his speed.

{[1600] Battle: 4 + 2 (accuracy) - 3 (evasion) = 3. Lessa's attack fails.}

Lessa: 20/30

Alkor: 30/30

[Guest]

He could see her anger and frustration bleeding into every motion as he evaded her blows with almost effortless steps. His enhanced accuracy guided blows to deadly points, so when he thrust his blade or slashed it, it sought blood every single time.

This instance was no different. When Lessa's heavy strike went wide, Alkor jabbed a quick blow in toward her throat, just under her chin. The blade hit the area above the jugular, a warning shot. It wasn't lethal, but it would bleed, and if there were no pain absorption setting, it would have hurt like hell.

The demonic blade fell to his side, a small line of red data dripping like blood off the tip of Nightbringer. He watched her with both arms limp next to his body, eyes gauging each of her reactions. She spent all her time leveling, all the time she could becoming the best she could at surviving and bringing others together. As great as that was, it wasn't enough.

They needed every single person in the game to unite, to come together and overcome the adversity that stood in their way. Lessa's role was slightly different than Alkor's- she could soak mob and boss damage. Alkor was the kind of heavy hitter that was relentless. The two were unevenly matched. Sure, his level was beneath hers, but with time, even that gap would close.

The chasm he'd ripped open in the opening moments of this battle would remain a constant reminder of the determination Lessa knew was within Alkor.

Still he watched, waiting for her to come again.

[iD: 1602, BD: 5+2=7]

Damage: 8 (-3) =5

Alkor: 30/30

Lessa: 15/30

[Lessa 1]

This time, her reaction was not instant. As the spectators grew quiet, the tip of the blonde's sword dropped to the ground. One hand held the weapon, and the other slowly rose to her neck. She pressed it there for a few seconds, then pulled her gauntlet-clad hand away. The crimson liquid seeped into the metal, running along the thin creases, and dripping to the ground like fat, dark raindrops. She stared at it for a moment, speechless. Then, the hand clenched into a fist.

I was right the first time. He is a monster.

She grabbed at her weapon once more, a bit of the blood rubbing off onto Hell Rose's hilt. Her beautiful sword. The man who crafted it had styled it after Joan of Ark's sword. It had stood for everything she stood for: purity, kindness, and goodness. But now it was stained with her own blood, spilled by the person she had trusted most. In fact, its color now matched that of Alkor's Nightbringer, the sword she had crafted for him. She had put her heart into that weapon, wanting nothing more than to make him smile. And he had. He had even hugged her, a moment she knew she would never forget.

Was this the same person? Could this man who mercilessly cut her down repeatedly be the same one who had pulled her body against his only weeks before?

Is this still just a game?

She put her head down, closed her eyes, and waited for the next strike.

{[1619] Battle: 5 + 2 (accuracy) - 3 (Alkor's evasion) = 4. Lessa's attack misses.}

Lessa: 15/30

Alkor: 30/30

[Guest]

He had already done so much. She was breaking, visibly, and it was almost difficult to watch. Out of the way of her strike, he stood like stone, watching, gazing into the world of pain that surrounded Lessa.

Her abyss was staggering. It was a depression that, beneath which, the girl might even be crushed. Of course, he would not speak. He would not dare intrude on her somber soltiude. This was her discomfort, her distress. None of it was his, could never be his.

It stayed his blade this one time, out of pure respect for her woe.

Alkor remained her enemy for all this time, the battle that they had been thrust into unwittingly, but he could not help wondering if he had been the thing that broke her, or something had done it long before.

It was her move, and he would wait; when she got to him, this time, he would dance the deadly waltz with her one last time.

[iD: 1621, BD: 1]

Alkor: 30/30

Lessa: 15/30

[Lessa 1]

But that strike never came.

Finally, her blue eyes fluttered open. Nothing had happened. She thought maybe he was lining up to strike her, waiting to ensure that critical hit. And why not? She had all but handed him her remaining health on a silver platter. So she waited a beat more. Somewhere, off in the distance, she thought she heard a chorus of booing from the stands. But again, there was no jolt, no pain, no blood. And she hesitantly turned to face him.

When her gaze found his figure, she desperately wished that he had just been waiting to hit her. The actual scene that she found devastated her. Alkor stood silently, his amber gaze on her beaten frame, his weapon at his side. He had made no effort to attack her. Instead, he had let her stand there, wallowing in her own defeat. He was toying with her, hoping to drag out her suffering even longer. "Why?" She croaked softly, her breathing becoming shallow as her shoulders began to shake. What anger she had felt before was gone. It was replaced by an empty feeling she could not recall ever experiencing before.

Her perfectly balanced claymore felt heavy in her hands as she swung at him. The fight was gone from her, so she was blindsided by the hitch in her swing. She had struck something. Suddenly, her hands grew warm in her gauntlets, and she could have sworn she felt a bit stronger.

{[1630] Battle: 9. Alkor's evasion has no effect. Lessa deals 7 damage - base, +1 critical, +1 athletics, +2 Hell Rose, +3 two-handed skill, -1 Alkor's dmg mit. Lessa gains one health from Life Steal.)

Lessa: 16/30

Alkor: 23/30

[Guest]

When he felt Hell Rose rattle across his body, Alkor shuddered, his eyes knitting shut as his cloak absorbed a small amount of the damage, keeping his HP bar slightly more intact than it otherwise would have. Lessa had rallied herself and pulled away from the eerie darkness that had beset her, if only just. He didn't want to fight her that way, so sunken into her emotions that she couldn't think.

Alkor wanted a challenge, and despite having to stand and deliver, he'd gotten one. His body reeled in pain littered ecstasy at the prospect of a real fight. He would have to give just as good as he'd gotten.

Now, feel my pain. This could have started as a battle between friends, but that would have sullied what it truly was. Two players, without fear of death, battling to see who was superior in player on player combat.

Lessa had never told him that she was a competitive gamer, and so, he thought nothing of showing her this part of him. She had seemed initially torn, but now, she held nothing back.

The result was chaotic and beautiful.

His weapon ripped upward and pierced her neck on the side opposite the one he had previously gouged, this time tearing open a wound that would bleed for extra damage. Alkor fell back into his original, fleet footed stance, waiting to see how his Guild Leader would react.

[iD: 1634, BD: 8]

Damage: 5

Alkor: 23/30

Lessa: 11/30 (Bleeding for 1)

[Lessa 1]

The woman let forth an anguished cry as his blade sliced her skin. This time, the hot, sticky liquid flowed freely from the wound, seeping under her armor and dampening her clothing. It pooled on along her collar bone, the edge of her breast, and even her underarm. There was so much blood, and it would go on to stain her skin as they continued their battle. Later, when she would peel off her clothes and inspect the damage, the dark mark on her skin would serve as a cruel reminder of the harm he had caused her. The damage that he had enjoyed inflicting.

A sob continued to bubble up in the back of her throat. Now, more than ever, she knew defeat awaited her. If nothing else, this gave her a small dose of motivation to keep fighting. Alkor had wronged her, and she was not sure she would ever forgive him for that. She was alone again, more alone than she had been since meeting him that day. She remembered it so vividly. But that was gone now. And if she were to fall to his blade, she would not give him the satisfaction of making a total fool of her. She would not let him end this without a fight.

"Control the things you can control, maggot," the last gunslinger's mentor had said. "Let everything else take a flying ---- at you, and if you must go down, go down with your guns blazing."

She stared him down, waiting for him to make the next move as the blood continued to leak from the gash he had made in her skin.

{[1641] Battle: 6 + 2 (accuracy) - 3 (Alkor's evasion) = 5. Lessa's attack misses.}

Lessa: 10/30

Alkor: 23/30

[Guest]

From beneath his malefic shroud, Alkor stared down at Lessa as she defied him with all her being. He held his blade rigid in hand and looked through the keen edge at her battered, beaten, bleeding form, and his eyes narrowed. How much further would this need to go? How much more did he have to prove?

She looked so powerless standing there, so hurt by his actions. Alkor snorted and surged toward her at breakneck speed, the system's power adding speed to his natural movements and agility that made him a powerhouse. His blade tore through armor with deadly efficacy, and he held her there over his shoulder, holding the blade deep, to the point where the tip almost ripped out the other side of her body.

He stared into the distance behind her, letting out a heavy sigh. They had come to the end of a crossroads, and he had learned all that she had to teach- save perhaps one or two lessons, and they would not come from combat.

Alkor slid back away from her, letting his body sag back into a deflated stance, waiting for the moment where he would put an end to this. It was starting to feel less like battle and more like slaughter.

"It's over," he spoke finally, his voice distant and his eyes bereft of even color. He wiped the blood from Nightbringer, still so greedy for more. He stared down at the blade, certain that it held no love for even it's creator. Such a beautiful monster. Maybe it was perfect for him.

He lifted a hand and gestured for her to come at him, one last time.

[iD: 1645, BD: 10]

Damage: 8+2 (-3) =7

Alkor: 23/30

Lessa: 3/30 (Bleeding for 1)

[Lessa 1]

For the second time in the same number of weeks, her body was pressed to his. She could remember the sweet scent of his cloak. It had not been a specific smell, but simply a mixture of aromas that she had come to associate with the amber-eyed swordsman. It had been a scent that she had kept with her, and more often than she would like to admit, she found herself wishing she could experience it again.

Again, she drew a deep breath through her nose.

This time, all that she smelled was her own blood.

Suddenly, his body was gone, and there was nothing left to support her near-lifeless frame. The woman crashed to her knees, the impact so great that it jarred her weapon from her hand. Hell Rose clattered to the ground, landing in the pool of blood that spilled from her wound. A hand grabbed weakly at the hole, but it did nothing to stop the bleeding. He had always been good at making his enemy bleed, but she had never expected to be the one spilling the blood.

Her final moments on the battlefield were accompanied by cries from the spectators. Some were shouts of anger, and others were cheers of joy. But they both effectively drowned out her own cry of agony as she grabbed her sword and climbed to her feet.

She was the picture of defeat, one hand clutching her heavy sword, and the other clutching her gushing wound. It would not be long now.

Weakly, both bloodstained gauntlets gripped the sword's hilt. Her trusty claymore, now bathed in her own blood, rose above her head. And with gravity's help, she let it fall, taking the last of her strength with it.

{[1646] Battle: 10. Alkor's evasion has no effect. Lessa deals 8 damage - base, +2 critical, +1 athletics, +2 Hell Rose, +3 two-handed skill - 1 Alkor's damage mit. Lessa receives 1 HP from Life Steal.}

Lessa: 2/30 (Bleeding)

Alkor: 15/30

[Guest]

He reached deftly up with his palm and grabbed the edge of Hell Rose, watching his HP rapidly drop on his Heads Up Display. After a moment, he felt her resistance fade, and he let her and the weapon both clatter limply to the floor of the arena.

Standing over her prone body, Alkor ignored the hellish roaring of the crowd and the cheers of "finish her! Finish her! Finish her!" He looked down at Lessa, staring up at him with no end of questions in her eyes.

Alkor did the only kind thing he could.

Glancing away from her, he stabbed the malicious crimson colored sword into her body and let the last of her health points flicker away. She dematerialized from her place on the battlefield and he knew, only seconds later, she was safe and sound, a world away from this hell.

Spinning his blade deftly and freeing it from the stains of Lessa's blood, Alkor smoothly slid Nightbringer- the traitor who had slain its own mother- into its tomb at his hip. Alkor left the arena with his head bowed, taking no pleasure or pride in the victory he'd earned.

It was the first step on a long journey.

[iD: 1648, BD: 9]

Lessa: 0/30

Alkor: 15/30

[Daeron 1]

The Victor is: Alkor

 

Lessa has been eliminated and Alkor will be advancing to the next round!