Fight at the river Styx

Lamont honestly didn't know what he was doing in the underworld, he had been eating in the mess hall when suddenly he had found himself on the banks of the Styx, and in his armor. He was a fairly muscular guy, having put on some more muscles to impress his girlfriend a month or so back. His black hair, cropped short was visible as he preferred bit to ear a helmet, but other than that his armor was all standard, a Stygian iron sword attached to his belt in its scabbard. He looked around the black beach when he saw another living person, a demigod no doubt as he could tell by the way she looked. He knew he had seen her before, but couldn't place tha name. Morgan maybe? He was hardly social enough to know. He was about to call out to her when a voice from an unknown speaker arrived to talk.

"DEMIGODS! I am the master of tournaments and you have been chosen to fight within my tournament, for honor and prizes beyond your wildest dreams! If you can survive all the rounds that is" the invisible voice chuckled and seemed to be coming from every direction. "I have placed LAMOUNT CRANSTON, son of melinoe against MORGAN LANDRY, a child of Hecate. Two underworld demigods, only one will make it to the next level! Who will it be?" The voice chuckled evilly and then one word wxhoed across the land. "FIGHT!"

LAMOUNT looked at the girl, Morgan Landry, and knew he had to fight. He drew his sword and looked at her "I don't want to hurt you, step down please"

What in Hermes's name had just happened?
Just a few seconds ago, I had been eating lunch (a delicious greek salad) at the Mess Hall, with my siblings, and now I was standing on a river bank of black sand and vulcanic stones (my geologic self immediately identified them as being magmatic plutonic ones of phaneritic texture, probably metagabbros), dressed in my full spartan armor: my greaves on legs and arms, my lamellar armor, my officer helmet with the horizontal line of black horse hair, my hoplon on my left arm and my dori in my right hand. Apokryphos, my weapon, was in xiphos-modus and sheathed at my belt. Under my armor, I was wearing the clothes I had when eating: my black T-Shirt printed with a circle of Runes and my black jeans.

Several meters away from me, next to a big rock of that phaneritic stone, stood a muscular boy of about my age, dressed like me in an armor of stygian iron although his armor wasn't lacedemonian. I recalled crossing his path several times at Camp, but hardly ever speaking ot him. What was his name again? Something 'Lamont' or 'Lamount' or so. Yeah, something like that.

Then the voice started speaking and I frowned. Who was it, to give me orders like this? A divinity? Yes, but which one? Eris? Ares? Ate?
Not a nice good, either way, since they wanted us to fight. Hey, this weren't the Hunger Games! I was about to tell Lamount that I refused to fight for a cause that I didn't know, but then he spoke up.
"I don't want to hurt you, step down please."
Blood rushed at my temples.
During my Quest, I had fought the Chimera, killed a Lapith giant, sent three Kers back to Tartarus, defeated Charybde and Scylla, escaped Erysichthon's trap and had even got the better out of Circe, my own half-sister and best magician of the world -- and now here I was, being condescended at by a boy who still had his mother's milk around the mouth.
I picked my dori up; with a quick, swift motion, I threw it at him, making the air hiss dangerously. The sharp blade hit the rock next to his left ear, and as I looked at him calmly, I could hear the metal's vibration.
"Insult me one more time, little girl, and I'll aim for real," I stated in a cold, calm voice.
Then I moved my hand like I were catching strings and pulling them to me.
"Ανεμος, φερει η δορη μου τε μοι," I whispered, and a mighty wind blow overcame the river bank. It was so rough and sudden my helmet nearly flew off. Black waves clashed against the stones, creating white foam. My dori went out of the rock and flew circling back to me; I caught it with my right hand, my finger closing with delight around the light wood -- immediately, the wind fell.
I put my helmet down, bound my dark hair into a strict ponytail, combing all rebel streaks out of my face with my fingers, then put my black helmet back on. The touch of the metal on my nose, forehead and cheekbones, its weight on my head provided me with comfort and assurance.
I wasn't here to hurt children, but if that little thing continued like it had started, I would.

LAMOUNT was shocked at her reaction, but then again this was a fight, and fights had no sympathy. He had been raised in a dog eats dog orphanage, having been the one to final burn his home to the ground. He held his saber, elegantly made with a black Stygian iron blade at the ready, facing the obviously better trained warrior. Tactics were out of the question, as was powers. His only hope was a quick and easy defeat, or if he could somehow use his superior strength against her.

"So be it" he smirked, not liking to be insulted as he stepped closer, into striking range before he slashed at her legs, his style more like a rusty fencer combined with Greek training, not the best, but certainly effective. He knew he didn't have much hope, being powerless, but he could make a stand.

His mind flashed back to his basic training with Zachary lee, his old friend who had taught him martial arts and survival. Then his other friend, Xavier shadan had taught him basic sword fighting, which was the thing that might save him against Morgan. He could remember some stuff about her, Katrina, his ex had idolized her before she died. He knew Morgan was magical, brilliant, and a survivor of a quest that was nearly impossible. The way people he knew talked about her made her seem like Percy, just the Hecate version. So would he live? Maybe. Win? No way in hell. But he had to try with the simple slash, then a jab and a flirt (quick, uneven movement).

He was armored in casual Greek armor, the standard issue with nothing but a sword, while up against a spartan. Only hope? Make himself worthy of mercy, and not death in the end of the battle that was about to rage between them, which he had just opened. What he couldn't understand is who was baiting them? Taunting and forcing them to fight each other? He didn't know, but he knew if he managed to make it all the way, he would seriously damage whoever it was.

His slash at my legs were previsible and I easily jumped over his fancy saber. When gravity put me back on the ground, I stepped on his blade's tip firmly, and while I was kicking at it with my other foot in order to disarm him, I aimed a backhanded hit with my shield at his face and shoulder.
I was using my dori to keep my balance, gripping it steadily while my feet were dancing in the movements I just described, and my hair flew around my shoulder, whipping my back.

LAMOUNT saw one of her first kovements and ducked, managing to just barely kep his sword. However it was much left,and he still ha a powerful Hecate child to attempt. Sighing, she charged at Morgan, only to trip to the ground that her feer

OOC: What about the hit I aimed with my shield? Did he elude it too or not?

BIC:
A part of me was surprised he could take his sword away in time, but I was far too concentrated on the fight to pay any full attention to it.
When he charged me, he tripped and fell in front of me. I gazed at him with hard neutrality, watching how he got up with difficulty, in his heavy armor.
"Stand up and fight," I said, my dori ready.

~~

Lamount staggered up, his chest stung by the blow from her shield. He had analyzed the fight so far, and knew he was losing. However, he knew he still had a chance to prove he could be a worthy opponent. Scanning the river bank, he couldn't see anything to use to his advantage, but then he realized...everything has an advantage. In a swift movement he cut the straps of his own leg armor, being naturally swift would be so much easier now that his legs weren't covered in bronze.

He swung his sword at her, managing to whack against her armor, but not causing more than a small cut. He cursed in Greek, before coming upon a plan that might let him have the upper hand. First, he stabbed the tip of his blade into the sand and yanked on it, spraying the volcanic like black sand into her face, temporarily blinding her before he attempted to knock her back with a hard slash of his black blade.

OOC: I think I remember having edited your post about the rules of tournament to write something like 'don't power play' or so.

BIC:

As he swung his sword at me, I leaned back so hard my hair brushed the ground; rising back up just in time to move my shield, I placed it in front of my face to protect myself from the sand he had been spraying at me, even though some grains caught themselves in my eyelids and nose, making me cough and blink. However, I didn't lose my concentration and when he aimed a slash at me, I blocked it with my shield, then made my dori twirl around in order first to hit his head with the metal tip, and after that put the blade of it under his chin, hoping it would do.

OOC: sorry bout that zwilling

BIC: Lamount had been confident his attack on her would have worked, would have given him the upper hand, but instead she had blocked it with her shield. Now he had wished he had a shield, but then again he wasn't the best fighter in the first place. He was going to try an attack he had learned the last week, to disarm his opponent, when he felt the metal tip of her dori slam home onto his helmet, rattling the bronze device and messing with his senses. Struggling to stand again, he found the tip of her blade at his throat.

He quickly figured out that if he didn't find a way out, he would be toast, and then out of this tournament. Finding his only hope again on the ground, he swung his legs across the riverbank, swinging and colliding with her legs, which he hoped would knock the spartan over, but with his luck that was his last move

OOC: How did he manage to swing his two legs? Where did he hold himself?

BIC:
I was about to tell him to surrender when he swung his legs against mine, knocking me off balance. I fell to the ground, my dori under my body, but I rolled onto my back and stood up again.

"If that had been a real fight, you would've been already dead," I calmly stated, underlining the fact that I had already won.

However, I advanced again and swung my dori in a circular motion at him so the wooden shaft would hit his head and neck.

OOC: meant to say he rolled on his side and kicked one leg at her. Sorry bout that /needs practice in fight rp

BIC: LAMOUNT cursed, knowing she was right. He was about to make the move, then realized too late that the match was over. Her dori slammed into his head and neck and he fell limp, out cold. His body then vanished into the darkness.


The same strange voice that had echoed around the two demigods appeared again, this time addressing Morgan since she had beaten the son of melinoe. "Congratulation! You have succeeded the first round of this tournament. You shall begin the second round soon, but as for now you may return to wherever you were beforehand. Enjoy your miserable life!" The voice chuckled and flashed Morgan out of the underworld, back to the camp.

OOC; you start next battle?

OOC: Okay. We could do all the battles at once, too.

BIC: My lance had done its work: Lamount fell down, unconscious. I looked at him, remebering how he had asked me to step down, when the voice spoke again.

"Who are you?" I called out. "Why are you doing this?"

But then everything blurred in front of me and I came back to the Mess Hall, without my armor, in front of my unfinished salad. Next to me Aleera was speaking as if I had never disappeared.
Troubled, I decided to talk to Chiron afterwards and finished my salad.