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the fate of a people (CNRPS)


Subtleknifewielder
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"This is an announcement and a plea for neutral assistance. The fate of two nations is resting on the outcome of a single combat, but a neutral judge is needed for this to be legitimate. We ask that someone, anyone, come to judge the course of events..."

This transmission was repeated in every known language...

One week ago

General Hukaat could hardly contain his elation at the news. Finally, they had located the Dwarven Capital. Since most Dwarven settlements were underground, they were often difficult to locate. But a daring raid into the heart of enemy country had led to the capture of important documents that the Dwarves hadn't had time to destroy.

Almost immediately, though, his elation was dampened, as he perused the documents detailing the defense of the city. Yes,with this information, it would be possible to take it, but it would be a long and bloody battle, especially considering the bulk of the enemy forces were in residence there...

----

One day previous...

They trickled into the area, by ones and twos. About a score were caught in various stages, and suicided rather than giving up the plan, leading the Dwarves to assume these were abortive espionage missions.

If combat occured before they reached the destination, they always made sure the odds were in their favor, and silenced the opposition.

It was a bold plan, a risky plan, but by some miracle of the creator, they managed to pull it off. Nearly half of their entire army surrounded all the entrances to the Dwarven City before their presence was discovered. However, before it could develop into a full-blown seige, a white flag was deployed.

Soon enough, a Dwarven delegation came out the main entrance with their own white flag, and the two parties met in the middle.

"What do you wish to discuss?" the Dwarven leader asked, speaking the traditional question.

"A trial by combat," the General stated.

"Trial? For what?" the leader snorted into his beard. "You can't mean the city. No way you could take us with the forces you have."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But could you withstand a true seige?" The Dwarven leader blinked and frowned, but did not reply. He knew the likely outcome as well as General Hukaat. "But you are right. I'm not here for the city."

"You're not?" one of the younger Dwarven aides said before he was shushed.

"No. I'm here for the fate of nations..."

OOC: Basically, as Maelstrom knows, this is a single combat with melee weapons. Anyone want to RP the Dwarven Combatant? Please note that he will lose, but this will make things interesting.

The rules are here, and the possible negotiated rules here. The rules would be explained to the judge upon arrival.

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The Nobody Leader Council, commonly known as Organization XIII, had received the message broadcast so thoughtfully out along every language. Quite a few were comprehensible to the Nobodies, but they continued to speak in their native language while discussing who should go.

"I do not believe this is a prudent course of action, Superior." The members of Organization XIII were eerily reminiscent of human beings in appearance. They walked, talked, and acted like normal humans, but they had far more endurance, speed, and strength than any human to walk the planet.

The 'Superior', shorter in actuality than the one who spoke up, replied. "This is not up for debate, VII. My course of action has been decided."

And with that, he departed to monitor the battle-to-the-death.

(OOC: Feel free to RP him arriving, I need to go to Football Practice.)

Edited by Shadowsage
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The Nobody Leader Council, commonly known as Organization XIII, had received the message broadcast so thoughtfully out along every language. Quite a few were comprehensible to the Nobodies, but they continued to speak in their native language while discussing who should go.

"I do not believe this is a prudent course of action, Superior." The members of Organization XIII were eerily reminiscent of human beings in appearance. They walked, talked, and acted like normal humans, but they had far more endurance, speed, and strength than any human to walk the planet.

The 'Superior', shorter in actuality than the one who spoke up, replied. "This is not up for debate, VII. My course of action has been decided."

And with that, he departed to monitor the battle-to-the-death.

(OOC: Feel free to RP him arriving, I need to go to Football Practice.)

OOC: OK...

IC: A large field had been prepared for the landing of whatever craft representatives from other nations sent. If it was an aeroplane like their own, there was a rather respectable long runway, and a makeshift hanger for them to taxi into. If it were some sort of lighter than air airship, well, that would be even easier to accomodate, with them simply remaining where they touched down.

As it was, the Nobodies arrived in a plane about an hour before sunrise, and they were instructed by radio to follow the landing lights that alternated yellow and green.

When they finally came to a stop, they would be greeted by ten honor guards from each nation, as well as a diplomatic official from both parties. The Dwarven representative was actually quite tall for his race, being at near five feet tall, but he was just as proportionally broad and stocky as his bretheren, making him a true giant of his race. His red beard was quite impressive as well, long enough for the tip of it to reach his belt.

The Mando'ade representative was a typical full-blooded elf--tall, slender, and more graceful than any human, and of course, the pointed ears. His braided, silver hair went down to the middle of his back.

All members of the greeting party watched the ramp of the aircraft descend, curious as to what sort of being would be there to arbitrate their dispute...

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OOC: Aww, come on, I was expecting at least a couple more responses...ah well, I have to finsish the rule negotiations anyway...

IC:

The previous day

The Dwarven delegation was in an uproar. Finally, when they calmed down enough, the leader sopke. "Are you proposing what Ii believe you are?"

"Yes. The end of the war, either way. The victor acheives dominance for his or her people."

After a long, reluctant pause, the dwarves agreed, and the general asked the first question.

"Weapons?"

"Any. Boundaries?"

"The space currently between our camps. To the death?"

"Combatant's choice."

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Star was still present in the Mando'ade region, so he decided to attend just out of curiosity. The last battle had been very interesting and he'd learned a lot about the culture.

As a prevous judge, he would be welcomed by both peoples. even the labnguage barrier would not inhibit the natural curiosity displayed by all races...especially the children of the Dwarves.

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Roxas, leader of Organization XIII and the will of Nobodies personified, sighed while suiting up to leave the aircraft. He picked the traditional garb of ceremony, a thick black leather coat reaching down to the ankles. Ornately decorated drawstrings flowed elegantly from the hood, and gleaming platinum symbols strung about the neck.

He picked up the two ancient weapons the Nobody race had brought from their ascent from darkness, so long ago. Their original name for the weapon-type was long since lost to the sands of time, but tradition had named them...Keyblades.

Each Superior of the Organization was taught by the previous to gain power over the weapons; to fight in a style lost in the distant past. Roxas was a rare progeny, being able to wield both of the surviving blades at the same time. He strapped them into leather loops hanging from his back and strode out of the ship.

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OOC:When I read the title I thought my vampires were getting owned.

OOC: If you say so...

IC: The being that descended from the ramp looked...almost human. Though they had never seen such spiky hair before. And the blue eyes...though it had been seen before, it was a color not common in any of the races represented here.

The black garment he wore was obviously some sort of cermonial coat or robe...but the most curious thing about him were the two weapons hanging from loops on his back. They were in the shape of--keys?

However, the delegations sent to meet him were not overcome with surprise, as they had expected whomever it was to be different. As one, the two officials moved forward to greet him.

They weren't sure what language to use while addressing this being, and so they used English, which according to the records, had once been a fairly universal language.

"I am Narir, Chairman of the Mando'ade Council," the Elf introduced himself. He bowed in the formal custom of his people, with hands inside the voluminous sleeves of his silk robe in a manner that linked the arms.

"And I am Archon, king of the Atlanteans." Archon performed a full court bow as he spoke in flawless English, folding at the waist. Narir glanced sideways at him. This was the first time he, or anyone of his people, had heard the literal translation of the word the Dwarves used for themselves. However, he quickly returned his attention to their guest.

"You are to be our judge?" he asked.

"Whom do you represent?" Archon querried.

It would be apparent with a moment's thought that they would take turns speaking, as was only right and fair.

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Roxas glanced between the leaders; obviously very charismatic and highly capable individuals of their races. The term Atlantean had some connotations he didn't care for, but neutrality was indeed expected. The Nobody gave a returning bow and locked eyes with the elven leader.

"I am Roxas, will of Homo Nihilus personified. You may know us better," he continued ruefully, "as Nobodies. I have come to mediate your conflict; an impartial arbitrator for your purposes." His voice was soft and quiet, yet it demanded the attention of all whom heard it.

The hypnotic melody in his voice continued to enrapture the listeners. "But I waste time. I am willing to observe and pass judgement at any time you wish.

"And yes; I do have a sense of self." He allowed a small smile to form on his face. "It's a trait not all nobodies possess, as I'm sure you've noticed."

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Roxas glanced between the leaders; obviously very charismatic and highly capable individuals of their races. The term Atlantean had some connotations he didn't care for, but neutrality was indeed expected. The Nobody gave a returning bow and locked eyes with the elven leader.

"I am Roxas, will of Homo Nihilus personified. You may know us better," he continued ruefully, "as Nobodies. I have come to mediate your conflict; an impartial arbitrator for your purposes." His voice was soft and quiet, yet it demanded the attention of all whom heard it.

The hypnotic melody in his voice continued to enrapture the listeners. "But I waste time. I am willing to observe and pass judgement at any time you wish.

"And yes; I do have a sense of self." He allowed a small smile to form on his face. "It's a trait not all nobodies possess, as I'm sure you've noticed."

The voice was hypnotic. Were it not for the strong wills of the two leaders, and the intense training of the honor guards, they might have been immobilized temporarily. However, they were not, and the reply was immediate. "Indeed, what few encounters we have had with your people, and from references through others, we had noticed. What little information we have has been shared with our..." he hesitated over the next word "...Atlantean counterparts, to prepare them."

Archon nodded his agreement. "We thank you for being willing to judge this contest. At this moment, the combatants are finishing their preparations for the fight. The rules for the combat will be explained on the way to the arena."

It would not be far, as the landing area was only a few hundred yards from the entrance to the cave. It actually marked one of the borders of the combat area. The Cave entrance marked the second side, and the other two sides were marked by members of each nation's military.

A kind of raised podium was at the corner where these last to sides met, and a padded wooden chair upon which he could rest if he so wished.

The arena itself was mostly a sandy area, as they were on the very edge of outback territory, though tere were occasianal scrub-brushes and very scraggly trees. There was also another race represented there...the Storm Dragons, in the form of Star. He would also be on the podium, observing it all. Baati would be there, translating for him if he wished...

OOC: Your cue if you wish to say something, Maelstrom...

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Star watched the interactions, "I'm just here to observe. I'm still recovering from my injury.. so you'll understand if I'm a little quiet I hope." He rubbed his sore shin, which unfortunately he couldn't actually touch because by now it was banded into a cast. He sighed. "Mrf...." The dragon males, outside of their armor, normally wore little more than a loincloth, a lot of tribal style tattoos and sometimes some accessories adorning their horns,neck, and claws. Star, being an Air Force "Intruder" Ace, meant to go in to a fight to provide close air support or even to land and act as a ground suppression heavy weapons platform in his flight suit.. was extremely well honed in his physique.

"Let the nobody be the judge. I am fairly certain they will rule impartially." He sighed. He was thinking to himself about the exercises he could do later to try and preserve his physical conditioning while his ankle was broken. Lower body training was going to be extremely challenging to come by although he could do all the chin-ups and upper body development he would still need. Doctors had assessed it would be about 3 months before his ankle was fully healed.

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Star watched the interactions, "I'm just here to observe. I'm still recovering from my injury.. so you'll understand if I'm a little quiet I hope." He rubbed his sore shin, which unfortunately he couldn't actually touch because by now it was banded into a cast. He sighed. "Mrf...." The dragon males, outside of their armor, normally wore little more than a loincloth, a lot of tribal style tattoos and sometimes some accessories adorning their horns,neck, and claws. Star, being an Air Force "Intruder" Ace, meant to go in to a fight to provide close air support or even to land and act as a ground suppression heavy weapons platform in his flight suit.. was extremely well honed in his physique.

"Let the nobody be the judge. I am fairly certain they will rule impartially." He sighed. He was thinking to himself about the exercises he could do later to try and preserve his physical conditioning while his ankle was broken. Lower body training was going to be extremely challenging to come by although he could do all the chin-ups and upper body development he would still need. Doctors had assessed it would be about 3 months before his ankle was fully healed.

"Of course," Baati asured him, after translating what he'd said to the others. "Our respective leaders have already agreed that this being, Roxas, should be our arbiter in this matter. However you, as a former arbiter, are still given a place of honor."

OOC: A note for any others reading this exchange. Star is speaking in his own tongue, and Baati is speaking in Mando'a. They each understand the other, but cannot speak the other's language.

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OOC: For simplicity, I'm assuming they originate in some form to Latin. As such it is understandable by Nobodies, but gives them a headache to think about.

OOC: Well, I dunno...maybe, but I'm thinking Mando'a came from adifferent root language. But she can translate to English, if you wish. And a scholar of Latin is there...somewhere.

IC: A tall, silk-swathed being hurried toward the podium from behind the Mando'ade line. 'Excuse me, Pardon me," he kept repeating to those he accidentally bumped into, but he did not slow his pace. He would be arriving a few moments after the others did.

Naris gently chided him in Mando'a. "You were supposed to be here more than ta'raysh (ten) minutes ago, Susul."

"I am sorry, Chairman. I am full of vul (remorse) that I was not here on time." Despite the inherent height of his race, the Elf known as Susul was not an old one as they went, being a rather youthful 35 years.

"Anyway, this is Roxas," he said, indicating their judge. "You are to be his interpreter."

Susul bowed to the chairman, then turned to his assignment and bowed to him. "I am Susul," he said in faintly accented Latin. "My apologies for not being there when you arrived. I am told your race prefers to converse in Latin, so I am to serve as your interpreter, should you wish--please forgive me if it is a little accented by my native language."

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The flat tone of the One True Language faintly irked Roxas, but it was far better than the pulsing migraine he had been developing while listening and speaking the other language. He sighed with relief before speaking to the interpreter.

"I thank you. The human equivalent in pain for speaking your language would be a moderate migraine, I believe. This does not matter." He gave a wan smile before continuing. "It is good that you are here; I do not have the nuances and particular words for expressing myself properly in these other languages."

He bowed to the interpreter slightly and murmured.

"Who is fighting?"

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The flat tone of the One True Language faintly irked Roxas, but it was far better than the pulsing migraine he had been developing while listening and speaking the other language. He sighed with relief before speaking to the interpreter.

"I thank you. The human equivalent in pain for speaking your language would be a moderate migraine, I believe. This does not matter." He gave a wan smile before continuing. "It is good that you are here; I do not have the nuances and particular words for expressing myself properly in these other languages."

He bowed to the interpreter slightly and murmured.

"Who is fighting?"

Susul consulted with the Chairman and the King, who provided the answer. "The combatants are no one other than the leading generals of each nation--General Hukaat for ourswelves, and Ggeneral Hector for the...did they call themselves Atlanteans?"

The diplomat from the Triumvirate of the Raetal watched the duel from an unspecified nearby area.

He would be given a respectable berth by most people, as they were unsure of this being. However, a passing group of children stopped to stare, before running off in the other direction, no doubt to tell their parents about the 'strnage beast.'

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A malevolent gleam appeared for an instant in the constantly shifting patterns of blue in Roxas' iris. Watching and participating in fights was something he was raised to do from the moment he came into his nonexistence. "I should most likely benefit from knowing the rules to judge by."

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