[center][IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v496/U9B/Thezones1.png[/IMG]
[b]DUEL TOURNAMENT[/b][/center]

[center][color=wheat][b]Wheat Field[/b][/SIZE][/color]
[IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v496/U9B/Zoner%20stuff/Portrait%20Locations/Wheatfield.png[/IMG][/center]

[b]Information[/b]
[b]Time:[/b] 4:44PM
[b]Location:[/b] Wisconsin
[b]Date[/b] August, 29th.
[b]Weather:[/b] Slightly humid and clear skies
[b]Temperature:[/b] 70°F[/align]

[b]Posting format:[/b]
After both fighters have posted, the initial poster will be allowed to make the first strike in their second post.  

[b]Format of the fight:[/b]
A battle shall end only when one or both fighters lives have expired; however, if their fight last longer than need be their bout will continue whilst everyone else progresses to round two. This way both fighters may play out their feud without seriously inhibiting the tournament’s progression.

[b]Rules:[/b][LIST]
[*]Players must be at either side of the road.
[*]There's no field limit.
[*]Everything can be manipulated and/or destructible.
[*]You can not attack in your initial post
[*]Layout is [url=http://i.imgur.com/eMO3lzP.png]here [/url]
[*]You are disallowed to edit your post without permission from Mobius and authorized personnel. Once your opponent has posted, the previous post YOU make shall remain untouched unless authorized. I will immediately disqualify you if you edit post after your opponent post (with some exceptions)
[/LIST][hr]

[color=orange][center]Flavor Text[/SIZE][/center][/color]

Enter a farm: broken and abandoned, it teetered upon the edge of Wisconsin in rusted red coating. An unassuming fixture forever frozen in a tableau of glistening chartreuse, and infinite expanse rich with naught beyond the scenery offered by wheat fields and green pastures. Picturesque if not for a loose aggregate of dilapidated machinery crumbling beneath the weight of age and rainfall, once proud tools of economic progress they have since then been relegated to a sideshow existence. Added to this graveyard of motionless machinery on the west, a barn, while traditional in its dimensions and appearance, elemental influence has reduced its lustrous red coat to a dull hue. Barn doors no longer stood as protectors of the overgrown shed, but as remnants of savage vandalism, leaving them torn and divorced from their charge exposing its hay filled insides. A farmhouse was the final attraction, complete with broken windows and worn surface, an echo of the decay that surrounded it.

It was a simplistic arena, but more than adequate for a wise fighter who knew how to exploit his/her environment. Humble terrain provided each warrior with a plethora of tactics to be implemented at leisure. Whether it was to simply charge recklessly into battle without fear of compromised equilibrium, thanks to dry terrain, or to hide behind one of many rotting tractors in preparation for an ambush. To each his own appeared to be a major focus of this bland battlefield as the opportunities it offered suggested.  Malleability to situational variables was another key essence it gave to both fighters.

Poised at the forefront of a dirt road ambiguous in its length, they stood as one of few markers for a site that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. An unlucky victim of poor location attracting only monthly visits from whatever greyhound bus happen to be passing by or even rarer, a drifter. Even then it was a rarity for anyone outside of those few spectators who knew where to look to even acknowledge its presence. Though an unwise place to live, it was ideal for a fated battle set to take place shortly. Two contestants entered, but only one would emerge whilst the other found them self cast into the maw of oblivion.

Choice of transportation was optional, be it by boat, plane, or some metaphysical form of travel, conceived through supernatural means. Drawn by bravery, valor, or something else entirely, it was here they flocked for a prize to be announced only at the tournament’s end. Until such a time came blood sport was the central premise of this game as implied by its purpose and overall scheme. Of course why anyone would want to take up this challenge and traverse the globe simply to fight was another story. The reward for survival this round, however; would be little more than satisfaction one received from tearing asunder their unworthy foe. They would manifest their courage on an elongated path tar from one horizon to the next, cutting a black scar between the barn and limitless wheat. ~[i]Credit to Doll Maker - 2007 Tournament preliminaries[/i]

[center][b][color=limegreen]BEGIN[/color][/b][/center]