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Gladiator: Round 2 (Shayuri vs River Song)
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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 7062790" data-attributes="member: 4936"><p><strong><em>Previously</em></strong>:</p><p></p><p>Alpha, the first iteration, paused as she exited the arena and looked around the room just beyond where fighters of various types prepared themselves for their own struggles. They wore clothing, and Alpha understood this from her journey here. Skin exchanged energy too freely with the air, making internal temperature harder to regulate. Also, there was a social element to consider. Here though, the clothing was often different than in other places she'd been through. Not cloth.</p><p></p><p>Alpha delved into the minds of those around her, sampling memories and experiences from unguarded thoughts. Much of the 'armor' was a mineral...iron...that had been heated and purified and shaped into various configurations that attempted to find different balances between protective value and weight distribution. Other 'armor' was made from skins of animals ('cows' - she had encountered several previously, but had been unaware of this utility) that had been altered by a chemical treatment that toughened them.</p><p></p><p>In the past, Alpha had determined that conforming with trivial social expectations of garb was a lower-energy solution than having to constantly deal with the consequences of nonconformity. There was no reason to assume that the arena would be any different. She would have to acquire 'armor.'</p><p></p><p>Similarly, though she had no need for a tool to inflict harm, the vast majority of other participants did make use of them. A minimal investment in such a tool seemed appropriate.</p><p></p><p>Alpha was familiar with how exchange worked. Numerous individuals had requested her attention to items they were attempting to 'sell.' Her initial assumption that these items were simply being offered turned out to be in error. Therefore, she was aware that to obtain a 'weapon' and 'armor' would require a medium of exchange. Small discs of a purified metal...but not the same metal used to craft tools, which was vaguely interesting...were used by others she had observed.</p><p></p><p>It was right about then that an officious man flanked by a pair of guards 'ahemed' at her, and succeeded in getting Alpha's attention. He held out a small cloth bag that jingled.</p><p></p><p>"Your winnings," he sniffed disdainfully, "Though for that dismal performance, I'd say you probably owe US coin rather than vice versa. Ah well. If I were in charge, many things would be different, you can be sure."</p><p></p><p>Alpha gazed at him, then slowly extended a hand, palm up. She had learned that simply grabbing things that seemed to be offered often led to suboptimal results.</p><p></p><p>With a roll of his eyes, the man plopped the bag into her palm. "Congratulations," he sneered, and flounced away.</p><p></p><p>She opened it. Inside were small discs of purified metal. A quick browse of nearby minds confirmed that they were of the most sought-after sort as well. 'Gold.'</p><p></p><p>Not knowing precisely how to determine who was a 'merchant' in the absence of a stall with a shouting man or woman in it, Alpha chose a nearby person at random and said in her quiet, monotone voice, "Do you exchange metal for 'armor' or 'weapons?'"</p><p></p><p>It took a couple of tries to find someone willing to give her directions.</p><p></p><p><strong><em>Now</em></strong></p><p></p><p>When Iteration Alpha stepped out onto the field of battle, she immediately noted the structural differences though had no preconceptions for how they might change the oncoming test. Determining such considerations was one of her reasons to be. She had changed as well. Sort of. Draped loosely over her slight frame was a leather hauberk reinforced with metal studs. A pot helm, also too big, sat atop her head. She had to sometimes reach up and adjust it so it was tilted back a bit, or else it was low enough that it fell over her eyes. While not a child by any means, she was small enough that the armor sort of made her look like one in comparison.</p><p></p><p>In her left hand she gripped a dagger, though she held like she'd never used one before. </p><p></p><p>The announcer called out her name...and she waited for her opponent's name to be called as well before beginning her attack.</p><p></p><p>Init: [roll0] or [roll1]</p><p></p><p>Action: Alpha moves around the north end of the berm directly in front of her to get within 60' of her opponent, then unleashes a Psionic Blast upon him for [roll2] psychic damage.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 7062790, member: 4936"] [B][I]Previously[/I][/B]: Alpha, the first iteration, paused as she exited the arena and looked around the room just beyond where fighters of various types prepared themselves for their own struggles. They wore clothing, and Alpha understood this from her journey here. Skin exchanged energy too freely with the air, making internal temperature harder to regulate. Also, there was a social element to consider. Here though, the clothing was often different than in other places she'd been through. Not cloth. Alpha delved into the minds of those around her, sampling memories and experiences from unguarded thoughts. Much of the 'armor' was a mineral...iron...that had been heated and purified and shaped into various configurations that attempted to find different balances between protective value and weight distribution. Other 'armor' was made from skins of animals ('cows' - she had encountered several previously, but had been unaware of this utility) that had been altered by a chemical treatment that toughened them. In the past, Alpha had determined that conforming with trivial social expectations of garb was a lower-energy solution than having to constantly deal with the consequences of nonconformity. There was no reason to assume that the arena would be any different. She would have to acquire 'armor.' Similarly, though she had no need for a tool to inflict harm, the vast majority of other participants did make use of them. A minimal investment in such a tool seemed appropriate. Alpha was familiar with how exchange worked. Numerous individuals had requested her attention to items they were attempting to 'sell.' Her initial assumption that these items were simply being offered turned out to be in error. Therefore, she was aware that to obtain a 'weapon' and 'armor' would require a medium of exchange. Small discs of a purified metal...but not the same metal used to craft tools, which was vaguely interesting...were used by others she had observed. It was right about then that an officious man flanked by a pair of guards 'ahemed' at her, and succeeded in getting Alpha's attention. He held out a small cloth bag that jingled. "Your winnings," he sniffed disdainfully, "Though for that dismal performance, I'd say you probably owe US coin rather than vice versa. Ah well. If I were in charge, many things would be different, you can be sure." Alpha gazed at him, then slowly extended a hand, palm up. She had learned that simply grabbing things that seemed to be offered often led to suboptimal results. With a roll of his eyes, the man plopped the bag into her palm. "Congratulations," he sneered, and flounced away. She opened it. Inside were small discs of purified metal. A quick browse of nearby minds confirmed that they were of the most sought-after sort as well. 'Gold.' Not knowing precisely how to determine who was a 'merchant' in the absence of a stall with a shouting man or woman in it, Alpha chose a nearby person at random and said in her quiet, monotone voice, "Do you exchange metal for 'armor' or 'weapons?'" It took a couple of tries to find someone willing to give her directions. [B][I]Now[/I][/B] When Iteration Alpha stepped out onto the field of battle, she immediately noted the structural differences though had no preconceptions for how they might change the oncoming test. Determining such considerations was one of her reasons to be. She had changed as well. Sort of. Draped loosely over her slight frame was a leather hauberk reinforced with metal studs. A pot helm, also too big, sat atop her head. She had to sometimes reach up and adjust it so it was tilted back a bit, or else it was low enough that it fell over her eyes. While not a child by any means, she was small enough that the armor sort of made her look like one in comparison. In her left hand she gripped a dagger, though she held like she'd never used one before. The announcer called out her name...and she waited for her opponent's name to be called as well before beginning her attack. Init: [roll0] or [roll1] Action: Alpha moves around the north end of the berm directly in front of her to get within 60' of her opponent, then unleashes a Psionic Blast upon him for [roll2] psychic damage. [/QUOTE]
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