View Full Version : Spar:AngryN3wb vs Bron-Yr-Aur

8th September 2004, 07:52 PM
Well you wanted this so bad, you start. I guess I'll use my character Mor'Baruk (http://www.giveupalready.com/showthread.php?p=1336#post1336), though his history is incomplete.

Now I dunno why we are actually sparring, but I suppose you wanted to prove some sort of point. So you begin, and I will reply, since this will be my first actual BA spar.

Edit: Btw, you were all impatient before, and telling me to hurry up, now I've been the one waiting for you...just to point that out. I will be going to sleep soon, so if you post after 11, then don't expect a reply til sometme tomorrow afternoon.

8th September 2004, 09:23 PM
OOC: You want me to define the arena? That was your job, son. Tell Tau I was a dick to you, honestly. The worst thing he could do is ban my account. Also spars take days, not hours. I am writing a new character and I have dutys on other forms to look after as well as good old fashioned homework. I needed your post so I could write a response. So far you are indeed the Newb I thought you were. Welcome to the club. To you is is a few lines to me it is a few lines in a forum I don’t look into much.

He doesn't have to talk to anyone, we roam the boards ourselves to see what is up, and this is out of control. Knock it off, or deal with me. Krystin.

This abandoned arena has been in disrepair for several hundred years. Fallen statues, and walls are a testimony to its former glory. Spirits of gladiators from the past live within tombstones of ancient stone, bones of lions and humans can be seen scattered everywhere, as well as shattered arrows. White sand stained rust nearly every few steps as tribute to many fallen warriors, and glorious battles. The arena is a huge domeless circle with a diameter of 600 yards. A small labyrinth at the northern wall with special seats for the rich spectators of old. At the southern end the great golden gates of the arena still stand in silent majesty. This monstrous arena looks stable enough for now, and the sun is directly overhead signifying noon.

Standing atop a box, outside the gate is a man who begins speaking in rushed tones his yellow teeth glaringly apparent on his brown skin, “Welcome to the Maerosie. While the arena is in obvious disrepair... it will still fit our purposes...” the man silently read down on a scroll of yellow parchment. “If you are unaware why you are here it is simple-” the man took this point to pause and stick his finger in his ear moving it around vigorously, “There is an upcoming team tournament and the prize is going to be enormous. Several of my partners and I are highering a few good warriors,” again he began to play with his ear but he did not break his speech, “to participate in the battle. We will give you a cut of the gold as well as the respect you deserve... this bloody ear is killing me! Roland! Finnish this!”

Blood tricked down the mans ear and finger as he walked away, several attendants caught up to him and began treating it with ointment. A man Zelig assumed was Roland stood up bringing out his own parchment, “First in the arena is Master Zelig The Faceless,” this Roland was interrupted by both loud whispers and a scream from the first man, “YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED SAY HIS PROFESSION!” Among the group of men with weapons, phrases such as “screw this,” and “no money is worth that threat,” Zelig smiled behind his black mask as all fled – save one.

Zelig walked through the double doors, brown robes blowing in the wind, his black shoulder length hair blowing wildly, “Join me, wont you.” Yells of attendants were heard as the original speaker fell dead blood oozing from every pore on his head. Zelig spoke loud enough that everyone could hear,, tossing a pouch of gold up and down in his hand as he walked away. “Roland, I would suggest a better profession sometimes accidents occur.” Once those words faded Zelig was in the arena – awaiting the one warrior brave enough to stay.

8th September 2004, 09:44 PM
Mor'Baruk listened to the announcer's half-finished introduction with little trepidation or fear. Not because he was supremely confident in his abilities, no, nor because he was an arrogant man. But for the simple fact that he was inexperienced, and knew not what to think of his opponent.

The dark clad, lithe figure strode out from among the murmuring fighters, who stopped their nervous chatter to watch. Was he mad? What could this slight, unknown man be doing? How could he not know of the danger he was in?

The truth was Mor'baruk was completely unaware, though his instincts told him to be extremely wary. He was not concerned with the other fighter's reactions, as most men were easily spooked, but his own feelings warned him that this would be the fight of his life-a life that wouldn't last much longer if he made too many mistakes. Sizing the masked figure up, he unslung the axe from which he got his name-the shadow axe. Mor'Baruk in the elven tongue. Knowing he would need all the speed and agility he could muster in this battle, he had no other alternative but to seek refuge in his beast form. Calling the dark power into himself, and allowing his survival instincts to rule him, he started the shift.

Mor'Baruk could feel his body being torn by the transformations he wrought upon himself. He could feel his bones grinding as they expanded and lengthened. He could feel the almost unbearable tearing sensations of his muscles stretching and thickening to gain the strength of steel cord. As the transformation completed he could feel nothing but pain, cleansing, mind-clearing pain. or'Baruk embraced the pain, and held on to it for all he was worth, utilizing it to sharpen his instincts and prepare him for the battle ahead.

A wary and cautious glint resided in his eyes, but he hid it behind a mask of fury and bloodlust. He knew his opponent would not be intimidated by mere appearances, but felt more confident anyway. He drew dark energy to him, channeling it into his axe in preparation for the battle, and held a small amount in the palm of his clawed and massive hand. A small amount, but enough to cast a quick spell should he need to in the first moments of battle.

Mor'Baruk had a feeling he was badly outmatched, but had no choice but to fight for all he was worth despite the odds. The same primal urges and instincts that gave him his strength would not let him back down from this fight, from any fight, no matter what.

Casting a watchful eye on his opponent, Mor'Baruk settled in a crouch to await the first move.

OOC: I hope that wasn't too newbish for you to respond to....

8th September 2004, 10:07 PM
OOC: he was complaining about PM’s Krystin. But good try.

Actually, I didnt get anything from him until this morning, after I posted in this thread....which was yesterday....so yea....GODD TRY yourself. Now you might think I"m kidding around...but straight out, I'm not. Either stop being a Jerk, or deal with the consequences! I've had enough of the bullshit.


Zelig stared from behind his mask as his enemy’s form altered. He himself found such magic disgusting, well magic in general was a pain. Now standing in the center of the enormous arena Zelig sighed. “Hundreds of faceless died here...” Zelig said slowly as he pulled his cane from the belt, “but I don’t even know if you understand me, now do I?

Zelig’s eyes began working now, his ears, and his nose. He could smell his enemy’s putrid breath, he could taste the foul taint of magic on him. The black cane made of a mixture of metal and oak – both died rested lightly in his right hand. Looking the few yards to his opponent, he held his arm out in front of him. He reached up with his left hand and grabbed the cane just below the ball grip. Both wrists pointing downwards – and hands touching Zelig’s fingers began to move.

Random clicks were heard throughout the arena – the internal mechanics and locks of his cane were moving. Zelig’s hands began to separate, silently a black single edges sword was pulled from within the cane. The ball grip was the hilt, though in his left hand he held the sheath of the now separated cane. Eyes scanning it, it now becomes apparent that the shaft of the cane also could be used as a rapier type weapon- but it wouldn’t slash very well.

The way that Zelig had drawn his sword the shaft pointed behind him as he stood lazily- where as the sword pointed forward. Pivoting on his right foot, he swung his left foot forwards. The toes on his right foot pointed at a perpendicular angle from that of his left, which pointed directly at his enemy. While he was not “facing” his enemy, he turned his head looking at the crouching beast. holding his left arm strait out from the side of his body he pointed at his enemy using his fist. Then he drew his fist to his chest. His elbow now pointed towards his enemy, but the cane was parallel with his right foot.

His right hand, was almost fully extended in the opposite direction, Zelig now looked relatively harmless as he spoke, “Beast? Let us see what color your blood is.”

(OOC: This is just a quick reiteration place where I say what I did in simpler terms.)
Zelig is unimpressed.
Zelig takes Scorpion Stance while using Scorpion Sword Technique.
Zelig taunts.

8th September 2004, 10:26 PM
Mor'Baruk watched warily as his opponent drew his blade, then shifted into his stance. Watching for any tricks or sudden spells by the cloaked and amsked man, he began to circle

"My blood is red, though it will cost you dearly to see it, " he said with false bravado, not knowing the speed or abilities of his enemy, he had no idea if he was even slightly justified in his remark.

Not wanting to attack an enemy of unknown skill first, Mor'Baruk paced slowly and cautiously around the figure at the center of the arena. He kept his axe readied and his muscles ready to spring away from any sudden attacks.

Knowing that this standoff could last forever, he decided to attempt something. A small Blade Talon would be enough to test his opponent, gauging his speed and reactions to attack. Readying the enrgy in his palm, he flung his hand outward with a swift motion, sending three small blades of dark power out at his opponent, watching to see what would happen, and drawing more energy in for his next attack, should he need it.

9th September 2004, 03:09 PM
The beast began circling, Zelig used his left foot as a pivot foot, adjusting his right to keep his opponent directly inline with the toes on his left. The “fight” or lack there of dragged on for several seconds. While Zelig was not getting impatient, he was growing board. If something will not happen I will make it happen, with that Zelig began to chance stances so he could attack. Have patience my friend, or it will be your end, he obviously has more physical strength. The whispers of a fallen god echoed in his head, Zelig ritualistically ignore him, but the hesitation the voice provided was enough to make Zelig see what his fatal mistake would have been..

The beast made a ‘throwing’ motion, Zelig’s mind processed that it was magic almost instantly. Reflexes matching that of lightening, Zelig slid the sword back into the cane with an audible click. Grabbing the bottom of the near the steel tip with his right hand he awaited the speeding weapons. Spinning slowly he swung the cane out ant touched one of the projectiles flying towards him. Spin clockwise with much more speed while simultaneously stepping away. Spain spread in his abdomen as another slid through his stomach. A small burst of blood to squirt out his back, ripping a sizable hole in both his skin and his robes, was apparent as the third narrowly missed him.

The spell he caught with his cane flew from it as he came around swinging it like a bat. The projectile fired back at its master growing larger and swelling with intensity. It increased speed as it flew back to its caster, aiming squarely for his chest. Pain seared up Zelig’s side as Guilez spoke again inside his head, no vitals touched, ignore the pain and move on. The pain subsided when Zelig’s mind focused once again on his opponent drawling his sword from cane. Resuming his stance he thought to himself, I am aware of how to fight fool, leave my thoughts to myself. Zelig now felt a head on attack would be foolish as his opponent had some control over the elements. Tensing his muscles more causing blood to ooze more rapidly from his stomach wound he decided to play a completely defensive battle from here on in.

Zelig talks to Guilez
Zelig leaves stance
Zelig is wounded
Zelig Mimics Spell
Zelig talks to Guilez
Zelig resumes stance

OOC: There isn't a god in my head. It is a roleplaying thing.

9th September 2004, 05:31 PM
While Mor'Baruk had figured his opponent would be able to turn his attack, he was still dissapointed and shocked to see one of his own blades come hurling back at him. Catching a quick glimpse of the minor but irritating wound he had inflicted on the masked figure, he kicked his legs forward and out from under him. He fell flat on his back, trying to avoid the angry dart. He was partially successful-he could feel the burning tear across the flesh over his pectorals, and see the deep gash in his light, rune-covered armor. Fearing a counter attack he got quickly to his feet and readied another spell..but his opponent just stood there, still in stance, and apparently on the defensive. Mor'Baruk would have preferred to fight a reactive battle, knowing his opponents strentghs and speed, but instead he would have to make the first moves.

Mor'baruk gathered a moderate amount of dark energy to himself, and keeping a safe distance from the masked figure, formed the spell..or spells, as it were. He had never tried this, but it was worth a shot. Mor'Baruk started by sending out his standard Drain Life, a spell that if it hit, would drain off an opponents life energies and syphon them back to the caster. He did not put a massive amount of energy into casting this one, but neither was it too weak to do any damage. He sent the invisible spell swiftly towards the cloaked figure, and when it was close enough, he acted on his plan. He forced the spell apart, into fragments of its former self, each part weaker but moving faster than the whole had been. The intangible mini-spells now spread out in a wide flared pattern headed towards the master of the faceless. Instead of one Drain Life he now faced myriad dozens. Mor'Baruk hoped that at least a few would hit, damaging the opponent further and netting him some extra strength. He got into a ready crouch and waited to dodge in any direction should the opponent try any last minute attacks as the spellss bore down on him...

9th September 2004, 08:55 PM
OOC: Show me where I flamed him kryst show me where I did one thing wrong. I don’t need this crap from you- I didn’t break a rule. If you dont like it then punish me- I wont argue I cloud care less. Now BYA realize you actually haven't walked very far into the arena- you are still barely though the door, I am near the middle. We are a long ways from each other if you would look at the demensions of the arena.

Zelig’s opponent narrowly dodged the attack that Zelig had sent back at him. But the fool began drawling magic energies again, magic will corrupt his soul and drive him mad, in the end. Zelig grinned behind his mask as the spell was thrown at him. Though Zelig had little or no magic in himself, detecting magic was simple. A disturbance in the air, wind moving out of the way, an alteration of sunlight- though minor, among other signs.

Zelig was simply going to sidestep the spell that flung at him, before the air changed. Zelig’s extra acute ears heard a slight disturbance as the wind as it spread further and wider. This devils trickery is unacceptable – he will die slowly now, Zelig through the shaft of the cane into the sand where it landed perfectly. He took a step back, then stepped forwards leaping off of the shaft in the ground, flipping high into the air he flew high over the spell. Unfortunately he knew he left himself wide open for a follow up spell attack... but there wasn’t much he could do about that. His opponent was still to far away to attack him physically but the danger was still there.

(Disregard this next section if you plan on attacking me in the air)

Zelig landed, and resumed his scorpion stance. Disdainfully he knew he no longer had a secondary weapon to keep his enemy at bay. Guilez whispers echoed within his skull again, you have an arm... think Patrik” Though he didn’t smile behind the mask, he smiled in his head to Guilez, [/I] so you are not worthless after all. [/I] Laughing inside his skull he brought his left arm over his chest, wrist and palm down, thumb touching his shoulder. He looked at the sword in his right hand, and at his left arm the sun directly over head shone off of both. Zelig had his own tricks that would easily make the beast falter.

Zelig Plants
Zelig Flips
Zelig Takes Stance
Zelig Specific Appendage Mimics (inanimate)

9th September 2004, 09:24 PM
OOC: Actually, if you look, i said I was circling you, meaning I came around through half the arena, and am only about 15 feet away. I never did post the distance, I apologize, but I did state I had circled you, then halfway through launched that attack.

Seeing the masked man leap into the air to avoid his Drain Life, Morb'Baruk had to think fast. He is good, but can he change direction mid-air? Using the small amount of energy he had readied in case of counter attack, he quickly cast another Drain Life, this one smaller than the last, and he did not have the concentration to split it again. But his aim was true, his senses told him it saild straight at the now descending figure, and would be upon him in a split second. He had now used up most of his magical energies, and only had enough left for perhaps one or two small spells, which he would likely need for his defense. Even if this one hit, it might not kill the enemy, but at least it would drain off some strentgh for Mor'Baruk's use. He knew he would need every last bit if the masked man survived, which he was about to find out....

9th September 2004, 09:52 PM
OOC: That is a roleplaying mistake on your part then. To me I was the center point on a compass and you circled me, only about ten feet. Explain the distances.

Zelig gritted his teeth as his body wracked with pain, seconds before he hit the ground. Bringing his knees to his chest in pain, his missed his landing and came crashing to the ground with a loud audible snap. Reaching down into his boot with his right hand he pulled out a set of dice. Swung his left leg over his right, then swung both to the left and backwards. Again his body filled with pain as he rolled backwards over his left shoulder going to his feet, know I know what the crack was Zelig thought in pain.

A second after he hit the ground he was on his feet, in-between his opponent and him Zelig threw the dice he had pulled from his boots. As they rolled across the sand, Zelig now noticed the sand in his abdomen wound, as the blood oozed out further. Observation by association is not something I am supposed to do Zelig thought gritting his teeth as the first dice landed five. Light blasted into the air as five fireballs stood in-between the two men. The second dice fell... on its side. Guilez laughed inside of Zelig’s head brilliant idea using dice on sand you foo- [B] BANG.[/I] An explosion cut off the god’s taunt in Zelig’s mind.

The ground exploded up halfway between the two men, throwing sand higher then the arena walls. Fires raged in-between the two men, making it impossible for them to even see each other and Zelig felt the heat rolling of the enormous flames. Who is the fool now, the fires will only last about thirty seconds, but the beast would probably go into the stands to go around the flames- giving Zelig even more precious time. Plus, the fire might go away but the smoke that they generate would not. Zelig felt he had a good couple of minutes to rethink his situation.

He ran backward and turned around. Scooping up his sheath with his left arm, pain again seared up his shoulder. As Zelig ran north to the labyrinth he smelled the air. Fire and smoke first, but he dropped that from his mind. Sand, and age filled his nostrils next, but that two fell away. Zelig worked through some other smells until he smelled only his opponent. He felt his bones knit and his skin knit as he made himself more like his opponent: Whole and unwounded. Reaching the labyrinth he already had to make a choice. Left or right? Zelig knew the bad guys were always on the right- so off he went, to be the bad guy.

OOC: My health is still drained but my wounds have disappeared as well as the hole in my robe.

9th September 2004, 10:07 PM
OOC: Sorry about the error.

Recovering from the shock and flash of the explosions and fire, Mor'Baruk shook his head to clear it, then remembered the masked man. He dropped back into a crouch, and scanned the arena, but all he could see was smoke and flames licking the sky. Where could he have gone to? He can't be using this to mask an attack, I saw that last Drain Life connect before he landed, there are few who could attack right away after a blow like that, and then that landing. He attempted to scent his enemy, but smoke filled his sensitive nosrtils and he coughed. He would need to get through this fire before he could do anything. Looking around for a less intense area, Mor'Baruk found one where the flames weren't as high. he knew he could go all the way around the arena, but not knowing where the enemy was left him feeling desperate. Besides, he was feeling fresher and stronger than ever after the Drain Life, and was willing to take a chance. Mor'Baruk stepped back a few paces, then took a running start and leaped through the flames. He felt fur and flesh scorch, but his ligh armor protected him from being badly burned. He strode out onto the blood-stained sand where he had last seen the masked man, smoke drifting off his armor in small curls.

He could faintly see footprints moving off in the direction of the Labyrinth, and a thin line of red dots confirmed it. He followed the blood and prints up to the entrance of the labyrinth, where the blod stopped.

"Must have healed himself, hmm...."

Mor'Baruk was in better shape than his opponent at the moment, but he knew the other had more tricks up his sleeve, and was far from finished. Entering that labyrinth could well be suicide, but he had no other choice. He scented the ground and quicly picked up the masked man's trail, heading off to the right. Readying energy enough for those last few spells, Mor'Baruk gritted his massive teeth and trotted off down the walled pathway to find his opponent......

10th September 2004, 04:37 PM
Zelig jogged on around the outside path that twisted and turned every few feet. The paths were always a comfortable eight feet wide, made of stone, though they loomed twenty feet high. Other pathways were blocked by falling rubble as he continued to jog. Eventually he came to another crossroads.... Finally one that was unblocked. Though this one was different... The path barely split and continued to go strait on both directions for about forty feet. Zelig knew that around fifteen feet into both paths was a spiked pit trap, which was ten feet wide. Patrik could always make the jump with out the wall, Zelig thought in dismay. Ducking down the right path he began to sprint immediately, leaping off the very edge of the pit towards the wall, he kicked off the wall and landed neatly on the other side.

Zelig knew this arena just as well as he knew his art. He had trained here for the majority of his life... you can’t even remember your age, how can you think that? Guilez spoke with contempt. Looking down at the ground... the sand was gone. Zelig remembered this place now, the gap between the two hallways that moved deeper into the labyrinth slowly spread until the end. The path on the left turned left, moving deeper into the labyrinth, the path to the right turned right, onto a path that looped its way all the way around the arena. But in-between the two pathways was the real trick. There was a wall- and as the passageways moved away from each other enough room for one person was created.

Smiling he ran, putting his cane in his belt. The he jumped into the air. Feet lightly making contact with the right wall, he jumped off again. Barely catching the lip of the wall with both hands. Using his arms he pulled himself atop the wall, where it dipped down again. Inside of the wall here was a little gap that sunk in around two feet, perfect for hiding. Looking over the lip at the path he came from he saw the steps he took. He saw the go right to the edge of the pit- where the sand ended dumping into the pit. On the other side there was no sand... his opponent shouldn’t know he had climbed up here.

Lying on his back and holding his cane to his chest he relaxed his mind. He blocked out the grating sound of sand being blown the smells of the labyrinth, the taste of the stale air. His mind accelerated as he waited, smelling nothing, hearing nothing, as his senses waited for change, waited for the disruption his opponent would cause..

Zelig Performs Wall Jump
Zelig Performs Wall Jump
Zelig Performs From The Heart

11th September 2004, 10:24 PM
Mor'Baruk continues to trot down the walled pathways, tracking his opponent now by scent. He eventually came to an area where the trail ended in a spiked pit. Knowing that his opponent could likely jump it as easlily as he, he began to take several steps back, then stopped. Mid-air would be the perfect time for the masked man to hit him with sme spell or assault....but he really had no other choice. Keeping dark energy welled up him his hand, perhaps he would be able to deflect an attack if he was wary. His long strides carried him forward to the edge of the pit, where he kicked off with trmendous animal strength and sailed over.(as you once said, if you decided to hit me mid-air then stop here)

Mor'Baruk landed on the other side in a crouch. He immediately started up and moving again, then stopped when he could feel he was no longer on sand. He checked for the trail again, but realized it had ended. Looking around for any openings or off-shoots, he saw none. He knew not where his opponent was, but feared a trap, and began doubling the dark energy he had gathered....

13th September 2004, 03:24 AM
OOC: Still a bad post, but much better. Thank you for editing. You do realize that there was a fork right? Anyways most of your posts are decent... that one on the other hand is not. That makes me think two things. “Its O.K. he’s just having a bad couple of days.” or “he is role-playing well with me, just to prove a point, and he slipped.” by the way, I am very pessimistic guess which I believe more. Hmm. Maybe the boy wonder quit?

The sand trickling into the pit was booming in his ears. Zelig easily heard his opponent jump the massive pit, though didn’t hear a wall jump. He is either much stronger or much lighter then I first believed Guilez said in his head. Agreed, Zelig thought back silently.
Zelig heard the thump, like an earthquake to his augmented ears, and the grunt of his opponent, landing hard upon the hard stone of the labyrinth Much different than sand, eh, tainted one? Zelig thought to himself, just before Guilez screamed in his head Go now!
Smiling behind his mask, he did in fact agree with Guilez. His opponent would be a bit shaken after the jump. Counting on this Zelig smoothly, calmly brought his knees to his chest and kicked to his feet.
Spinning 45 degrees to his right and looking down at the man from atop the wall he shouted down in standard faceless chant, “I’m twenty feet up-
and have a plan, it-
involves your death...
Do you understand?” Zelig liked the rhyme, though improvised it still had the taunting sarcastic effect that Zelig prized so dearly in his combat speech.
With those words, before his enemy had time to react Zelig fell backwards off of the wall, backwards into the fork left fork that wasn’t taken by either men. Tucking his knees to his chest again, he spun faster and landed perfectly on his feet.
Squatting down to ease the pressure on his legs and almost laughing out right. Zelig concentrated on slow controlled movements, as he jogged the few feet to the pit, spinning 180 degrees-
He sheathed his weapon and put it in his waist tie. Kneeling, he grabbed the lip of the pit. Dry stone, catching his skin easily allowing him, to get a good drop in the edges. Holding the lip with both hands, he-
Slowly lowered himself dangerously into the pit. Failing his legs for a spike, his left foot bumped into one, though the padded silk around his boots caused no sound to emit. Wrapping two ankles-
Around a spike a foot out into the pit, he lowered himself in further, squeezing tight with his legs he let go of the lip. Squatting a few inces atop a sharpened steel spike, he started to sweat. Zelig held his hands out to the sides keeping his balance. With every passing second he lowered further onto the spike, in spite of his efforts at gripping it with his legs.
Reaching his hands out in front of him, he began slowly falling forward until he touched the wall with his hands. He was no longer in dages of being impaled by the spike, He fell forwards bending his arms, until his body was horizontal. Zelig's head scraped the wall-
As he went completely upside down. Looking at the bottom of the pit, he saw tons of animal skulls, but perhaps hundreds of humans, who had been pushed or had fallen into the pit. Climbing down the spike upside down his reached the bottom-
Brushing the bones from the area he would stand on, he went to crawling position, then stood. He began waiting for any signs of his opponent coming over to this side, either over the twenty foot wall, or back over the pit and back to the fork, then to this side.
it was still high noon, and the pit was fully lit, but turning around putting his back to the wall. He knew of a secret passage to the left of him. Looking at the dimly lit passage to the other side, that led to the opposing pit he knew he was the one of the select few who knew about it.
Zelig made his way there, listening for his opponent to come. When he did, Zelig would duck in the passage until he heard his opponet leap over the pit (assuming he runs around that is Guilez snicked). The he would step out and shout that he was in the pit. Grinning openly behind the mask he looked at the ten by eight foot pit, that was around twelve feet high. Every square foot a spike that extended roughly seven up resided proudly.
His opponent would never be able to make the jump into the pit, and the beast was much too big to climb in. When his opponent looked he would dash into the safety of the tunnel and move tot he other side.
My ears are open, here I wait. Date with death son- you won’t be late. Zelig thought patiently.

Zelig taunts
Suicide Backflips (improv: A suicide in martial arts is a ‘safe’ fall)
Sheaths Weapons
Lowers Into Pit
Takes Position To Flee.

OOC: Compare our stats... still wanna do stats battle...? Heh