The Battle Islands

Standing before the pair of burning cauldrons looming above the gateway, Trinaire Cauda was reminded of a crown decorated in jewels the way the new space age dome was encapsulated by the wreath of the old battlegrounds of days long past. He could obviously find himself spending days literally scratching at the surface of this entrance, probing at questions such as 'What is the meaning of these reliefs and who is pictured there' 'What kind of significence did these matches serve to the people, and 'What causes these flames to burn in different colors, and why do they seem to burn brighter for different people according to legend.'

Of course, none of that could be answered until the inquisitive man had esstablished himself into the roster as a combatant. Although Trinaire prefered not to fight, he understood that unless he was prepared to do battle as well he would be a simple observer and never get the full experience from this wonderous archive of history by watching from the bleachers.

The main facility was expertly designed of course, matching the tastes and sensibilities of its high paying customers without expenses. A normal fellow would never be able to afford the upper crust restaurants and No limit parlors where matches are watched and bank accounts are shifted daily, but a fighter of the ring is afforded some concessions.

Any battler is naturally afforded a comfortable space to stay if they choose free of charge for convenience of travel, although from what Trinaire heard that involves living in refurbished pens for animals and prisoners back in the gladiatorial ages, and allegedly there is a privately owned medical staff as well. As Trinaire had finished his registration at the receptionist's desk, he was immediately called out by a man dressed in red with an ugly expression on his face.

"Um... I don't even know where to start with you. I mean, do you even know who you're talkin' to?"

Trinaire looked around confusedly. Who was talking to who here? He pointed cautiously at himself as he looked back at the slender framed lad shaking a baseball bat at him between his cloth wrapped knuckles in one hand and typing furiously into a smart device in the other.

"Yo, what's up?"

"Umm... Not much? I take it you must be here to battle?"

This was really Trinaires first foray into the world of combat, and admitedly he wasn't particularly pleased to be so aggressively targetted right out the gate. Looking around however, the other opponents present all seemed rather imposing as well. The two warriors covered head to toe in armor hanging around the room were rather imposing already, and openly carrying rather threatening weapons like axes so casually. All considered it didn't seem all that out of the ordinary to be sized up from the get-go. You wouldn't want to take on an opponent that you felt unsure of after all.

"D-Do you have any idea, any idea who I am?"

For some reason this man was taken by surprise by Trinaire's thought to be innocuous question. He wasn't a fighter by any means professionally but maybe he was? Could this be like talking to a celebrity and completely blanking out on them? The man didn't allow Trinaire to rack his memory for an answer as he filled in the blanks himself.

"Basically - kind of a big deal."

Flexing his bicep to marginal effect, he spent a moment loudly grunting so as to accentuate the raw bulk his meatless body possessed. Trinaire for his part, remained silent.

"Oh man, that's beautiful. Heh! ...Ya' listenin'? OK. Grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and brother, I hurt people. I'm a force-a-nature! If you were from where I was from, you'd be freakin' dead!"

Trinaire attempted to speak up.

"WOOO!"

Trinaire failed to speak up. And like he was swept up in the wind the mysterious man had already vanished. What even was the purpose behind that? It was just then that the receptionist at the desk called him back over holding out a smart device similar to the one he had just seen the man typing into.

"Oh, thank you very much. It seems to be buzzing though?"

The receptionist explained that they act as portals for scheduling matches. As soon as it had been linked to his profile it began ringing to indicate a match was already requested for him... But who? Trinaire already had a bad feeling as he confirmed his suspicion.

"Red Scout. That was his name huh? I get the feeling he might be trying to make an example of me..."

His spirit sunk into his stomach as he looked at his picture and Red's side by side. Was he blinking in this picture? This wasn't at all what he had in mind.

"No.. I can't be upset about this. I knew I'd have to fight sooner or later if I wanted to come here. I should be taking this as a great opportunity in fact."

Trinaire pressed the confirmation button on his device and slid it into his backpack. Next stop was the Light Arena.

-----

"Teacher, didn't you say that these kinds of places were full of full of powerful fighters? There isn't anybody here that looks strong at all."

Terra was in a rather disappointed mood since she arrived. Her personal trainer had taken her out of class and away from her friends in order to train against a more diverse pool of adversaries than what could be locally provided; However since touching down on the island she had yet to come across anybody even smelled threatening let alone looked the part. So far, the closest thing to a fight could be described as the war of words that Scout had with that newcomer Trinaire, who for his part fell over like wet paper to an obvious browbeating Scout used to make himself look good.

"Now now Terra, You need to look beyond the surface if you want to be a good fighter. Even the most timid and unassuming could have the potential to be a force to reckon with."

Mr. Sazerac, her Superintendant was an avid combat junkie in his youth if one was led to be believed. The fact that he always wore full armor plating under his suit was enough credence to the idea that he was ready to fight at any moment's time; that or he was simply a complete loonie. Despite that, he did possess some pearls of wisdom bottled up in his cold stone like casing. Nodding to affirm her acceptance with the idea in principle, Terra looked down at the device that came with her registry and played around with it.

The smart device wasn't a phone or a tablet as was popular these days, but closely resembled one perhaps. It had a bit of boxy almond shape to it, with the words "Menger NetworkPeDiA" In front of a diamond made of smaller and smaller diamonds, the company responsible no doubt. Although the primary function seemed to be to contact entrants anywhere among the islands' range as well as provide any battle relevant information they may have, it seemed that it also had many more general features as well. A simple phoneline, absurdly basic net connectivity, and a few assorted widgets as well that served various purposes from basic utilities like calculators or step counters to simple time wasters. Considering that Terra already had a phone and carrying excess weight would be a pain, which was likely given this technological fossil probably weighed as much as a brick, she couldn't really see her using it all that often.

Still it was about the only thing she could find to do at the moment. If Terra was to speak up about her boredom, her coach would probably suggest doing some studying to pass the time. Hopefully somebody will provide an interesting challenge soon enough.

The battlefield was a most peculiar one Trinaire noted upon his arrival. It was in a chasm of sorts, as if the earth had split itself open to present the pillars of glassy stalagmites to the sky. The student in him observed that the pillars were rather evenly spaced and sized, flattened so as to form mini platforms to fit one, though the distance between them that even a large figure would need to put at least some effort into jumping the distance. Luckily however this kind of terrain was relatively easy to traverse, although having to leap constantly to get anywhere would be a serious drain of energy if the battle warred on long.

Trinaire curls a brass knuckle around his left hand's fingers and removed the disc like buckler from his backpack onto his right as his made his first jump out into the battlefield proper and stood ready. The shield was a peculiar choice to use in his opinion from a logical standpoint, as he looked down at the precarious fall awaiting him from a short step in any direction, he was hoping that at the very least he could avoid being knocked off from a distance by a stray ball scout may pitch his way. The knuckles for a similar reason would be useful to maintain his poise keeping his opponent at bay. The biggest issue the was that gun of his...

"READY!" An announcer cried to begin the action with a deafening roar. "3! 2! 1! GOOOO!!!"

Hopping forward the Scout made a mad dash towards Trinaire moments after the signal to commence had been sounded. The reaction time of this fighter was incredible the Scholar had though. Quickly bracing for impact, Trinaire studied his opponents movements and searched for an opening to exploit for the advantage.

"Scout is coming at me with a bat it seems. Holding the bat onehandedly won't have enough force to deliver much impact to knock me off in one blow, so he must be aiming to do damage this strike." Trinaire adjusted his stance in line with his thoughts so it would absorb the impact towards the ground as best as he could and raised his buckler up to shield his face behind should Scout attack from either side. "If scout's rash personality is any indication it'd be a good idea to prepare for him to try hitting me like a nail into the floor, but this position relies on him not trying to knock me over or backwards with all my weight up top..." He thought to himself.

It'd be better to avoid being struck all together than attempt to take the hit and counter it, so Trinaire braced his fist behind his shield and manifested the ethereal fist down between the his pillar and the on Scout would need to leap from to attack him. Although his opponent was fast, Trinaire had no problem keeping pace with his motion. As soon as Scout leapt into the air he'd be helpless until he touched down again.

It would be the moment that Trinaire, standing at the very edge and ready to meet Scout's bat that he would swing upward and strike the young bostonian right in his stomach from midair.

Closer... Closer... Now!

"Good, that seemed to have scared him off."

Trinaire inwardly sighed in relief. Although the concern of rushdowns has been warded off at least, the shotgun Scout was toting around was still incredibly dangerous to deal with. While guns are all by and large high range weapons, shotguns in particular spray pellets in every which direction, and even from far off would probably cause more than enough pain.

Trying to spare as little time as possible, Trinaire removed his climbing pickaxe and hung himself off the crystal pillar by his phantom limb. Gripping the hard mineral column, the fist of cluster took the form of stone as well when it clasped the wall's edge. To say the least he probably wouldn't need to worry about dropping unexpectedly. With the pick in hand, Trinaire began leaping from pillar to pillar as he stayed cautiously out of the line of sight. Eyes narrowed he kept careful eye out for Scout; It'd be hard for him to spot the camouflaged texture of the fist holding the edge, but given the choice to go for a circumferential route over his opponents diametrical jump back and forth it was bound to only be a short time before he went looking and noticed the odd lumpiness resting on the edges of some platform or another.

"If only I could get that gun away from him I'd feel much safer, but honestly I won't be safe at all when He has free rule up there. How can I deal with that speed?"

The clatter of the bullets above rained small shards of crystal down upon the level Trinaire had been concealing himself at. There wasn't much cover here true and he would be totally exposed in any other scenario, but from the current situation, Scout wouldn't be able to hit even if he did know where he was, not from that angle and distance.

Staying about midway between the tops of the columns and the rope net below, Trinaire had been careful as he made his way around to Scout'd location out of sight. He had since taken to jumping from pillar to pillar in quick succession, burying his pick into the wall and using his hand to doubly grip the pillar. Although he had only heard one shot so far the danger was still too much for comfort, and he took every procaution to ensure that there was always a solid wall between the two as they drew closer and closer.

The shotgun shells sprayed out liberally, but their effect was still a cone that traveled forward and then outward. Save for the stray ricochet that Trinaire had accounted for by wearing the Idea Engine with its spectacular impact absorbing nature as a helmet, He was safe from the most likely chances of being hit. With a weapon that has no sense of precision Scout would need to get Incredibly lucky with a million to one flanking rebound shot to hit him in this kind of positioning.

"I'm in range now to attack Scout, but I'll need something to take him by suprise." Trinaire thought to himself as he observed his opponent standing warily, yet oblivious to his position just two pillars to his four o'clock. This distance wasn't good anymore for using a pick axe now that such a noisy instrument would tip him off, but maybe he could find a way to use that to his advantage, especially since he appears to be ready to pull some kind of stunt.

"There's no telling what he's planning to do like this, so let's try to stop him at the curb."

As carefully as possible, so as not to raise alarm before Scout begins moving or catches on to his location, Trinaire ties a rope line into the pickaxe handle from his backpack and leads it around the front of the pillar.

Peeking carefully to the rope's end, the scholar preps his next jump as he simultaniously lines up a shot to have the pickaxe meet Scout's face straight ahead and whips it with all the force he can give with the Fist of Cluster. The range of the ghostly limb is rather short at only a second arms length away, but the flexibility of its disembodied movements allow it to throw an object far faster and farther than a human could from a resting position. Having chosen the longest line he had on hand as well, Trinaire jumps off the pillar as well to end up behind Scout, who will if they hear the sound of the pick cracking into the pillar before them and look downward to strike, will be defenseless just long enough to strike with the FoC and disarm the shotgun.

Failing to take the bait, Scout predicts the pincer attack and begins bearing down on Trinaire Bonker in hand. However, the awaiting bludgeoning did not daunt the professor at all in spite of the wooden bat moments away from slugging him in the face. He was calm because Scout had already fallen for his trap.

The pickaxe was thrown directly into the cone of vision for Scout as he was still looking for Trinaire, toward's his opponents 'side' so to speak. But Trinaire was already behind him when the pickaxe collided with the pillar ahead, a detail Scout picked up on and then would have to have dismissed the blatant sound as a distraction. But had he noticed the rope, Scout would have been able to see tha backup Trinaire had already accounted to.

Yanking the rope up and over with two hands, The tether flipped up over the lip of the pillar Scout was standing on and struck scout in the heels like a clothesline, not with enough force to knock him off his feet. but the combined impact and pain would have been enough to seriously disrupt Scout's balence long enough for Trinaire to switch hands on the rope as he jumped to meet Scout and give him the extra push he needed.

The Ghostly appendage danced around Scout frenetically as Trinaire flew through the air, fist and palm poised and ready to see Scout away strung up and hanging for mercy by his legs in the air.

The succession of these rapid motions severely limited his movements with his legs bound up, and undoubtedly with the FoC poised and ready to drag down Scout if he tried to attack back, Trinaire was using this attack as a formality to finish off Scout with his own hands. It would take a flash of brilliance to escape this hopeless situation.

Trinaire was moments away from contact when he saw Scout prepare some kind of trick. Already prepared to act if his opponent tried anything particularly tricky, the Doc was a bit suprised when the bound up mercenary retrieved a can of soda and milk from his backpack instead of a weapon.

"Is that really the best thing to be doing right now?" Trinaire thought as he prepared to give Scout the shove to end the match. "I suppose all considered he can't do much else. Still... Milk and cola seems like a peculiar choice. What would he be accomplishing by-"

Just then Scout whipped the contents of the milk bottle into Trinaire's face. It didn't have the same punch to it that knocking Scout into the air did not long ago, but the effects were just what was needed as Scout's opponent was left sputtering blind and unable to finish his original assault.

Using the lapse in focus effectively, Scout left Trinaire to complain about the eventual smell of souring dairy in order to run away and maintain distance. Of course running would be a vast overstatement. Trinaire in his sopping wet state wasn't one to let up even when he was taken by unexpected turns of events, and had done nothing to release the grip from the ready fist that waited for command. Although he had thought to yank down Scout now, the truth was his opponent had no opportunity to escape with his legs still bound up and secured by the pickaxe embedded in the pillar.

The battle field in effect has just shrunken down to a fraction of its original size now, the area of about Nine pillars in all, accounting for the distance the rope would allow Scout to hop between with each bounded bounce. Trinaire was also locked into this range as long as he chose to keep the FoC latched onto the rope like he had been.

Wiping off the stray milk beads from his face, Trinaire went in with the Idea Engine drawn for battle. The advantage was still his as long as he kept Scout tightly leashed, so now would be the golden opportunity to win the match.

Charging forward, the Doc went to deliver a fierce shield check against Scout. By this point he would have to be working out how to free himself out of ropes, leaving him less than ready to take the impact depending on how much of his attention or hands are willing to commit to freedom. Though a question arose in Trinaire's mind when he saw the way that Scout was blurring in his vision... Was that from that cola? What even WAS that cola to do something like that?

The distance closed between the two in no time at all; Scout may have been fast as a hare, but his opponent was no tortoise to sleep on. The question did arise to Trinaire on what it was that Scout was trying to accomplish by standing completely open like that. Common sense dictated that he must have a trick up his sleeve, but whatever it was Trinaire couldn't imagine it was worth using now in this particular situation with everything going against him.

The shield made dead contact into Scout's open stance and Trinaire pushed forward with all his strength, He was determined now to send both of them plummeting down off the pillar and leaving Scout to dangle helplessly in submission. Furthermore the Doctor had angled his shield particularly so as to push Scout towards the edge headfirst, pushing him high so as to buckle his knees if he pushed back, which he would have to given his binded together legs if he was going to try to prevent being knocked straight off immediately.

The Fist of Cluster braced its grip on the lower noose as well as Trinaire pushed Scout towards the edge. It had been keeping to rope securely fastened since it had weaved around the Bostonian's ankles and was approximately right under Trinaire by circumstances of Scout's evasion. Right as Trinaire began to push Scout off the edge, he would be making the split second call on whether to yank the proverbial carpet out from underneath Scout and flipping him on his back as he is pushed and pulled in opposite directions. If however by strange circumstance falling off the edge without resistance as Scout's instinctive predisposition to peculiar decisions has already shown, Then it'd be a matter of making a quick knot to secure the rope before releasing the FoC back in Trinaire's free use to make it to safety while leaving Scout high and dry.

What have you accounted to do Scout? Defeat gnaws at your footsteps ready to consume, shall you escape its vicelike fangs?

Irrelevant.

Irrelevant is what Lucy felt this job to be. Why was she here? Why hire her? There wasn't even a target here. Her job was literally to monitor the ruins during the day. The pay wasn't even that good; as soon as she got a better job, she was leaving.
Oh well. At least she got to stay at the resort at night. In fact, she did get out rather early. Before she started, she registered at the coliseum everyone talked about. She'd only be able to fight at night or after...3 was it? Whatever. All she knew was that she had a reason to do both. May as well stay sharp, right? No reason to let slow work deteriorate your aim. Or your training.

Then again, considering all she saw on her PDA as she walked back from registration was the fight between Trinaire and that Scout guy, maybe the arenas were having slow days as well. The PDA was a sort of gift for registering, they said. It would allow her to accept challenges from just about anywhere, as well as watch ongoing fights as she pleased. She wasn't exactly one for conversation, as anyone who caught sight of her would guess. The purple cloak. The menacing stone camo. The look in her eyes. Even her sniper rifle looked threatening, even moreso than you might think. Why would you even step near this girl? Steer clear, that's what her effect on the air said. Don't look her in the eye. Don't catch a glimpse of her at the wrong angle. Give her no reason to harm you and she won't, otherwise she will not go easy. In fact, her threatening air might catch the eye of a few potential challengers, soon enough. But for now, all she could do was wait. Wait and watch the crowd, spotting any potential...well hello. Didn't expect to see him here. Who was that with him? Who knows. She just looked over a few entries in the registry. Scout, known for speed, Trinaire, known for exploration...it was all she could hope to do to pass the time for now.
In fact, Valkrie was just getting to Terra's profile. Wonder who'd make the first move in that equation, if a fight starts up between them at all?

Suddenly, with the dead ringer in hand, scout backstabs trinare several times.
he then quickly runs away to gain the advantage

The world slowed down around Trinaire as the feeling of coldness pierced him from behind before giving way to the sense of vertigo. He was tumbling forward now and the sky was at his feet. Below him, or rather above, he saw a glimpse of Scout making an hasty retreat, but how was this possible?

Ah, that's what happened. It was a trick after all.

This is what the scholar thought as his eyes passed by the 'Scout' that had fallen. It was a dummy. Some dummy indeed to make a fool out of him. Somehow Trinaire had lost sight of his opponent, they had escaped the rope trap intended to bring about a defeat by submission and replaced it with this prop. It was unavoidable to end up in this result.

No. This was a consequence that could have been avoided entirely. This was a battlefield for warriors after all,  Scout had treated the situation with the honor it deserved. Trinaire was the one in the wrong for believing that a battle could be won without being willing to fight it tooth and nail. What a sorry end for an opening debut like this, it almost feels like a punishment had been passed down from the island for his disrespect.

In this case, Trinaire accepts the end he has recieved and takes it to heart. Nothing more needs to be said now, the scholar disappears into the crevice in silence.

-----

Looking in the direction of her arm, Terra discovers she has found this sniper at last. From as much as she could gather her 'Instinct' had kicked in already to reflexively snatch the pebble that entered her space. It was a trait that Dinosapians possessed to some extent by virtue of their engineering, but in a civilized society in this day and age it was hard to keep it sharp much like a domesticated pet loses the ability to hunt for themselves. For Terra however who had sharpened her instincts to an unconscious level a stray rock was nothing compared to dodging hail at the level her teacher has sought to raise her up towards.

Rolling the pebble between her fingertips carefully, Terra approached the sniper carefully, she had a mean air around her that intrigued her as expected, but also called for wariness despite the lack of intent she gave off. " "You're one of the fighters here, aren't you? Terra Sigil. Otherwise known as Para-Red. I presume you noticed my appearance on the registry?"

Bwaa What's with this accent!? It completely doesn't fit this gothic-looking Gargoyle Woman at all! The tone somehow matches her mental picture of a killer, but all she can imagine her hands could bring to death is some deadbeat drunkard in a quaint rural community. What a gap in expectations.

Such a thought would never be allowed to share a word of that of course, lest the Dinosapian wanted to see any chance of learning anything other than what a burning hole in one's brain feels like. The sniper is already welcoming her closer, and was open to talk as she introduced herself as Valkrie. Being that an invitation would be rude to turn down, the Terra gracefully seated herself down with beside her.

"That's correct Valkrie, it had popped up on that phone thing they gave out earlier." She quickly confirmed as much to Valkrie's intuition "I had no choice but to track you down when I realized you murdered things for a living."

On paper, of all the Pretty Paratroopers, Para-Red was easily leagues ahead of her peers, but beyond the special training she had recieved the worst she had genuinely encountered were some strange
trees full of worms. A few nasty bugs were easy enough to slay to begin with, but it was already easy enough to see that she had a fundamental problem with her strength. There was no gauge between zero to full blast.

"Actually, the reason why I was so interested is because I can tell you're strong in the way I want to be. Assassins are... Efficient. I want to be efficient too."

Terra had once heard that rattlesnakes are considered to be more deadly in their first years than in the rest of their lives. The reason explained is that they lack the control in their bites to deliver only the minimum of their precious supply of venom and spend it out all at once until they can properly regulate it. When it comes to Valkyrie, being able to spend a single shot to max effect is her venom, and when it comes to Terra, who's fickle power supply could run out in an instant even for somebody who didn't throw everything into one blow, even approaching that level the sniper was at would only be an improvement.

There was no resolve in her heart that could be shaken, She would learn all she could from Valkrie.

When Trinaire awoke he discovered he had been transferred to the Facilities' Medical Ward. The room was furnished much as one'd expect from a well funded hospital, and as he looked into the next room he could tell they were well equipped to handle any kind of patient that walked in through the doors. There were jars filled with various rare and expensive herbs and mushrooms to make colorful potions of all forms, But even technology of the modern age and beyond was present by the sight of full body scanners, microscopic surgeons, and giant vats of restorative gel like something out of a scifi comic.

Curious to hear what kind of treatment he had received to bring him back up from the brink of death, Trinaire carefully rolled up out his cot, noting the pain in his back when he rose, and reached for his medical chart to see how his treatment was going.

"Hmm... Minor wounds on back... treated prior to arrival?" The Doc paused in confusion and scrutinized the prognosis further. "Patient found at Light arena netline unconscious from fall. No brain damage detected, Right shoulder dislocated from impact..." Trinaire looked up to spy the approach of a woman in a cheetah print tanktop. Judging by the sight of the sleeveless lab coat she had wrapped around her waist with a belt she seemed to be the acting doctor at the moment, or simply was somebody who had a vendetta against clothes that covered arms.

"It looked like you had been given a good rattling, but that's the worst of it." She said as she took the chart back from Trinaire. "Honestly I can't figure out how you took getting wasted out there so well, but as long as you take it easy on your arm until the strength builds up you're free to go with a sling and some anti-inflammatories."

"And what about my back Doctor-"

"Tierbow." She quickly cut him short as she went to fetch Trinaire's nearby backpack. "All I did for that was slap a few bandages on the cuts, they were barely nicks once you finally got here after all. It was a good thing you had such a big backpack or those knives would've torn right into you the way that scout kid was jabbing them at random."

Ooh, the Backpack. Now it made sense. Trinaire would need to check the contents later, but when he thought back to the supplies he had in there, it would have made perfect sense that his wounds would've taken so well.

"Well then. I'll have to thank you for the care Dr. Tierbo. Hopefully next time we can meet under better circumstances." Trinaire said as he fastened his sling up and took the cut up backpack into his good arm to depart.

Tierbo smiled slyly as she watch Trinaire exit the ward. "With the way you fight I'm sure we will." The Scholar stopped midstep at the catty comment and shook his head in dismay, but ultimately continued on with a brave face out of view.

For as little as she had to do, Tierbo found Trinaire to be interesting, medically speaking of course. It was common practice to perform an examination on all fighters when they first come in to the Med Ward, But his results had been rather extrordinary, or more exactly extrordinarily ordinary.

It'll take some time to further appraise given that the man had woken up just before she had the chance to perform a bloodtest after the initial diagnosis for his injuries; But there was something. Something just smelled off to Tierbo's intuition.