Is it my lack of any arena wins that makes it seem as though I need to be taught how to fight?
/Cracks her knuckles/
/Cracks her knuckles/
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Most spears would get stuck, yes, but I suppose I figured the triangular shape of her spear would be better described as a lance. There is no bulk at the tip to get stuck, if it went in clean, it'd be just as easily withdrawn. The superheated blade would serve as a lubricant of sorts, making it hard for wood to clamp on to the blade. The end result would've been a loss of a shield, and given Iolanthe's abundance of these, she'd be able to defend herself easily whilst tossing the log aside, or simply retracting her arm. Of course, Sigurd wouldn't have to worry about damage to that arm had he worn a wooden shield, so it'd have done little for either of them.
As for the scaled shield... now that would serve as more of a disadvantage if Iolanthe's spear got stuck in there, cause it'd take too long to peel off the scales, giving Sigurd room to retaliate. That's what I wanted to know. She'll find that out later if we get to a scene like that.
If you've read Iolanthe's backstory, you'd figure that I've also studied ancient history. This fight wouldn't have taken place in reality, given the timespan between the early Roman empire, and when the Vikings began raiding Saxony and Frankia. This is like a special episode of The Deadliest Warrior!
As for the scaled shield... now that would serve as more of a disadvantage if Iolanthe's spear got stuck in there, cause it'd take too long to peel off the scales, giving Sigurd room to retaliate. That's what I wanted to know. She'll find that out later if we get to a scene like that.
If you've read Iolanthe's backstory, you'd figure that I've also studied ancient history. This fight wouldn't have taken place in reality, given the timespan between the early Roman empire, and when the Vikings began raiding Saxony and Frankia. This is like a special episode of The Deadliest Warrior!
Much information would be gathered from a simple strike. Iolanthe had never encountered a dragon in her homeland, there were different monsters under her belt of expertise, and thus she did not recognize the texture of her enemy's shield. Through trial and error, she discovered her enemy's strongest point of defence in her very first strike. Although she aimed for his chest, at the side of his shield closest to his weapon arm, she'd also learn that he was indeed proficient on guard. It would've taken half the time to deflect her sword to his right, angling it between them both, which she would've capitalized on, instead he made the correct move of making sure that weapon stayed locked to his shield.
One might think only fools rush in, but how else was the front line recognized for its bravery? Iolanthe lived in a time where wisdom and foolishness were hard to differentiate, the wise argued they knew nothing, and the confidence of a fool could lead armies. Sure, Iolanthe would not blindly go in, she had no weakness yet to capitalize on, but she had some tried and true tricks to breaking down an enemy's guard. She'd have made an incredible archer, if Hyperion hadn't chosen her for the front line.
Like any Greek, Iolanthe beckoned the clinch, and by stepping forward once more with her left foot, she'd begin to close more of the gap between herself and Sigurd. After having her spear deflected, she'd showcase how swiftly she could swing her blade, by retracting her arm once, re-adjusting the weapon's aim low, and pointing the tip between her foes legs. When heated up, Hyperion as heavy a weapon should be, with that kind of length, but even so, one good stab could shishkabob three men. In the same motion as unsheathing her gladius with the blade pointing downwards, she'd spring forth, whilst awakening her left arm from its dormant state, punching outwards with the sharp edge of her hoplon shield. She aimed at Sigurd's torso again, this time closer to his right shoulder, which she kept in focus at all times, for the pauldron's shadow would reveal where his sword traveled, after having been cut off by the shield bash. She had little worries related to that sword, as long as she could keep it on the outskirts of her hoplon. By the time Iolanthe got close enough for such an audacious attack, her spear would've already found its way between her foes legs, since the weapon's length was something difficult to manage around, even in such close-quarters combat. Sigurd would feel a warmth nearing his crotch unlike any a woman before Iolanthe dared thrust against him; if he did not deflect the spear or dodge backwards, he'd risk having his thigh artery sliced open, or his groin castrated and cauterized.
One might think only fools rush in, but how else was the front line recognized for its bravery? Iolanthe lived in a time where wisdom and foolishness were hard to differentiate, the wise argued they knew nothing, and the confidence of a fool could lead armies. Sure, Iolanthe would not blindly go in, she had no weakness yet to capitalize on, but she had some tried and true tricks to breaking down an enemy's guard. She'd have made an incredible archer, if Hyperion hadn't chosen her for the front line.
Like any Greek, Iolanthe beckoned the clinch, and by stepping forward once more with her left foot, she'd begin to close more of the gap between herself and Sigurd. After having her spear deflected, she'd showcase how swiftly she could swing her blade, by retracting her arm once, re-adjusting the weapon's aim low, and pointing the tip between her foes legs. When heated up, Hyperion as heavy a weapon should be, with that kind of length, but even so, one good stab could shishkabob three men. In the same motion as unsheathing her gladius with the blade pointing downwards, she'd spring forth, whilst awakening her left arm from its dormant state, punching outwards with the sharp edge of her hoplon shield. She aimed at Sigurd's torso again, this time closer to his right shoulder, which she kept in focus at all times, for the pauldron's shadow would reveal where his sword traveled, after having been cut off by the shield bash. She had little worries related to that sword, as long as she could keep it on the outskirts of her hoplon. By the time Iolanthe got close enough for such an audacious attack, her spear would've already found its way between her foes legs, since the weapon's length was something difficult to manage around, even in such close-quarters combat. Sigurd would feel a warmth nearing his crotch unlike any a woman before Iolanthe dared thrust against him; if he did not deflect the spear or dodge backwards, he'd risk having his thigh artery sliced open, or his groin castrated and cauterized.
Hmmmmm. "Had Sigurd’s shield been just ordinary wood, his foe may have just made a grievous error." I'm not sure how this would be true! If she shield was wood, Iolanthe would've easily destroyed it, giving herself an advantage... her spear would ignite it quickly, making it hard to weigh her down, she could toss it aside in one swing with ease. This is irrelevant, though... it just struck me as odd.
Also a question: What's the likelihood of a piercing attack getting slightly stuck in between dragon scales? If high, what are the chances of crow-bar style peeling one of the scales off?
Also a question: What's the likelihood of a piercing attack getting slightly stuck in between dragon scales? If high, what are the chances of crow-bar style peeling one of the scales off?
Hope remained hidden in the restaurant washrooms pretending to apply makeup whenever a customer or staff member entered. She'd poke her head out of the washroom once to sneak a peek at the avatars, however when the same waitress that spotted her in the kitchen walked out, she figured she'd need a stealthier approach. As if from the void itself, Hope reached in to one of her magic hoops after activating the portal within them, and drew out a mirror, angling it just right to observe the entire avatar conversation. What she saw did not amuse her, the fact they were having fun, talking, and generally figuring their roles out was fine and dandy, but she did not take failure lightly. Not only that, her intended target barely seemed to mind drinking his salted lemonade, and moments later, one of the other avatars expressed his distaste for the food, however was able to completely mitigate Hope's hard work by purifying his, and Vuduin's drinks. The mishap became knowledge, and the kitchen would quickly catch on, the prank was a dud.
"No fair!" Hope yelped loudly, which barely echoed out of the bathroom. "How dare they all just... shrug it off like that! Ugh! I should've added laxatives or tranquilizers to their food, that's what! Hmph..." She continued to grumble, whilst now planning a next course of action in her head. To make an intro or not? She wouldn't be so easily kicked out of the restaurant after being caught out, would she?
The hoop at Hope's right arm would sway about several times, before she'd retract her hand from it, and levitate it out a few feet in front of her. A portal quickly opened within the confines of the hoop, a signature item of hers which made her teleportation magic much easier to control. From the vast hyperspace she'd finally summon one of her two Pokemon allies, Sableye. The shadowy little gremlin would bounce about happily upon being summoned.
"Ah, my mistress! What is it you require of me? I'm rather famished... have you found any gems?" Sableye would begin, whilst fiddling about with her hands, as if very well aware she would be up to no good.
"Sableye, my dear, your eyes could fill your stomach. I'll treat you nicely later, for now... I need your assistance. You see - w-wait a second... what is that sound? A piano?" Mid-speech, Hope would become distracted by the melody played by another of the avatars. She'd silently enjoy the tune, whilst cursing to herself. "There all having so much fun out there... all without me!" She'd complain. Now, she was more interested in the other avatars than anything else, she wanted them for herself, however which way she could make that happen.
"Mistress, why don't you just go and introduce yourself! This festival is for you!" Sableye thought, and of course she'd know those thoughts to be heard by her psychic master.
"It's not that simple! A real woman's introduction must be appealing, awe-inspiring, perchance! How else will those handsome gentlemen fall for, and slave for an old lady like me?" A smirk adorned Hope's lips as she mentally conversed with her dear friend, whilst her grand scheme came in to mind. "Firstly, I'll need to rid myself any liabilities. That pretty little waitress needs to go! You'll help me with that, right, my lil' girl? Mmm? Mommy's got a bag o' jewelery for you, if you can lure that little lady in here." With a wink, Hope twirled the hoop in her right arm, knowing she could compensate Sableye any cost she needed to.
"Consider me bribed! Tehehehe." Sableye announced aloud, which anyone else would instantly hear as an abrupt 'Sableye, sa, Sableye!" Echoing throughout the restaurant.
A scene erupted, the little gremlin would shadow sneak in to view, appearing right behind Yolanda on her way back to the kitchen, and quickly climbing up the girl's leg. Her pockets would immediately be raided by the greedy thief, before it dashed away and in to the washroom. Expecting that the little trickster was walking right in to a dead end, Yolanda quickly put down the plate in her hands and chased Sableye in to the washroom, where the avatars would not see her again. Immediately upon entering the woman's restroom, Hope would be waiting there, holding one of her hoops high in the air, and thrusting it down upon the waitress like a big net. Next thing Yolanda knew, she was staring at a bunch of potions in the Pokémart.
"Good job, as per the usual, you fail to fail me! What would I do without you, lovey? Here you go, your stipend." Hope would reward Sableye quickly, by tossing the goblin girl a small bag of three rubies. Only a thief of Hoopa's caliber could keep up with such a transaction fee. "Now, deary, go make sure my sword isn't getting in trouble, will you? I've got a party to crash." With that said, Hope opened a portal beside Sableye, who nodded and quickly began stuffing her mouth with the first and biggest ruby.
Moments later, Hope would appear through the entrance of the restaurant, rather than the bathroom. Knowing it would be suspicious after the little incident that transpired seconds ago. She'd attempt to open the doors, however when they proved solidly shut, she'd simply teleport herself to the other side dramatically. Right away she'd showcase her power, so not to be questioned unnecessarily. Out of another small portal just below her outstretched hand , a gemmed scepter materialized, and she'd quickly twirl it about her hand before leaning on it like a walking stick.
"What have we here? Mmmm...? So! At last, I've found the banquet of avatars! My search can finally come to a halt!" Hope would begin her charade. "Oh, enjoying life's many delicacies, I see? Whilst the world's Pokémon slowly die of sickness? Not what I expected of the world's congregated heroes! Do none of you know why you've been blessed with your powers? A shame..." Hope sighed deeply to give dramatic life to her stream of lies. She was full of Tauros dung, but making the story up was half the fun! "You were all given the power to save this world, and here we are... celebrating it whilst others suffer. What say you all, in your defense?!" Her face was cold and serious, but given the fact she was even convincing herself with this muse, she would easily hide any smirk or sign of falsehood. Now she had her chance to truly observe the paradigms of her fellow avatars, whilst assuming a wise and all-knowing role for herself.
"No fair!" Hope yelped loudly, which barely echoed out of the bathroom. "How dare they all just... shrug it off like that! Ugh! I should've added laxatives or tranquilizers to their food, that's what! Hmph..." She continued to grumble, whilst now planning a next course of action in her head. To make an intro or not? She wouldn't be so easily kicked out of the restaurant after being caught out, would she?
The hoop at Hope's right arm would sway about several times, before she'd retract her hand from it, and levitate it out a few feet in front of her. A portal quickly opened within the confines of the hoop, a signature item of hers which made her teleportation magic much easier to control. From the vast hyperspace she'd finally summon one of her two Pokemon allies, Sableye. The shadowy little gremlin would bounce about happily upon being summoned.
"Ah, my mistress! What is it you require of me? I'm rather famished... have you found any gems?" Sableye would begin, whilst fiddling about with her hands, as if very well aware she would be up to no good.
"Sableye, my dear, your eyes could fill your stomach. I'll treat you nicely later, for now... I need your assistance. You see - w-wait a second... what is that sound? A piano?" Mid-speech, Hope would become distracted by the melody played by another of the avatars. She'd silently enjoy the tune, whilst cursing to herself. "There all having so much fun out there... all without me!" She'd complain. Now, she was more interested in the other avatars than anything else, she wanted them for herself, however which way she could make that happen.
"Mistress, why don't you just go and introduce yourself! This festival is for you!" Sableye thought, and of course she'd know those thoughts to be heard by her psychic master.
"It's not that simple! A real woman's introduction must be appealing, awe-inspiring, perchance! How else will those handsome gentlemen fall for, and slave for an old lady like me?" A smirk adorned Hope's lips as she mentally conversed with her dear friend, whilst her grand scheme came in to mind. "Firstly, I'll need to rid myself any liabilities. That pretty little waitress needs to go! You'll help me with that, right, my lil' girl? Mmm? Mommy's got a bag o' jewelery for you, if you can lure that little lady in here." With a wink, Hope twirled the hoop in her right arm, knowing she could compensate Sableye any cost she needed to.
"Consider me bribed! Tehehehe." Sableye announced aloud, which anyone else would instantly hear as an abrupt 'Sableye, sa, Sableye!" Echoing throughout the restaurant.
A scene erupted, the little gremlin would shadow sneak in to view, appearing right behind Yolanda on her way back to the kitchen, and quickly climbing up the girl's leg. Her pockets would immediately be raided by the greedy thief, before it dashed away and in to the washroom. Expecting that the little trickster was walking right in to a dead end, Yolanda quickly put down the plate in her hands and chased Sableye in to the washroom, where the avatars would not see her again. Immediately upon entering the woman's restroom, Hope would be waiting there, holding one of her hoops high in the air, and thrusting it down upon the waitress like a big net. Next thing Yolanda knew, she was staring at a bunch of potions in the Pokémart.
"Good job, as per the usual, you fail to fail me! What would I do without you, lovey? Here you go, your stipend." Hope would reward Sableye quickly, by tossing the goblin girl a small bag of three rubies. Only a thief of Hoopa's caliber could keep up with such a transaction fee. "Now, deary, go make sure my sword isn't getting in trouble, will you? I've got a party to crash." With that said, Hope opened a portal beside Sableye, who nodded and quickly began stuffing her mouth with the first and biggest ruby.
Moments later, Hope would appear through the entrance of the restaurant, rather than the bathroom. Knowing it would be suspicious after the little incident that transpired seconds ago. She'd attempt to open the doors, however when they proved solidly shut, she'd simply teleport herself to the other side dramatically. Right away she'd showcase her power, so not to be questioned unnecessarily. Out of another small portal just below her outstretched hand , a gemmed scepter materialized, and she'd quickly twirl it about her hand before leaning on it like a walking stick.
"What have we here? Mmmm...? So! At last, I've found the banquet of avatars! My search can finally come to a halt!" Hope would begin her charade. "Oh, enjoying life's many delicacies, I see? Whilst the world's Pokémon slowly die of sickness? Not what I expected of the world's congregated heroes! Do none of you know why you've been blessed with your powers? A shame..." Hope sighed deeply to give dramatic life to her stream of lies. She was full of Tauros dung, but making the story up was half the fun! "You were all given the power to save this world, and here we are... celebrating it whilst others suffer. What say you all, in your defense?!" Her face was cold and serious, but given the fact she was even convincing herself with this muse, she would easily hide any smirk or sign of falsehood. Now she had her chance to truly observe the paradigms of her fellow avatars, whilst assuming a wise and all-knowing role for herself.
Yep, you read the post right.
Goodness gracious! I didn't expect that whole thing to get posted.
I think I've already read it all, but... let's see.
Not even Final Fantasy has this much dialogue...
I think I've already read it all, but... let's see.
Not even Final Fantasy has this much dialogue...
A sound exhale echoed over sharp black rocks. Iolanthe's focus steadied on the warrior before her, who barred her path to the mountain's peak. Her wish was granted, the opponent both honourable, and worthy to be her adversary. The look on his face was easily recognized, it was one among three she most commonly witnessed on the battlefield. Often enough, her gender deterred many an enemy, either they doubted her skillset, or simply disdained the idea of killing a woman; it was too common an issue for Iolanthe to pity. Iolanthe assumed her opponent would not make the first move, many men did not, against the auburn haired beauty, she'd have to break the meta.
"Here I come, Sigurd Stoneheart!" Iolanthe yelled, before ending the idle state her legs were in.
A slow and steady pace, one foot after the other, Iolanthe paced around the two stalagmites in her way, and diagonally positioned herself at a vantage point towards Sigurd's left side. She wanted her back to the wall, in case she finally found an opponent who could break her stance, falling down the mountain's side seemed too unpleasant. Alike the dance of a wolf, Iolanthe circled in and closed the gap slowly, whilst never taking her eye off the northerner. At all times she kept Hyperion aimed directly at her enemy's heart, whilst her arm kept tucked close to her waist. She approached at a suspenseful pace, any onlookers might wonder when one of the two fighters might burst forth with violent energy. Iolanthe's pacing stopped when she was only eight feet away from her enemy, and she'd exhale once, whilst glaring in to his eyes. What kind of ideas was he thinking? What part of her body was he focusing on? How much would he rely on instinct? All valuable questions she'd need answered right now. He had many different steel weapons at his disposal, so Iolanthe pulled her shield hand closer to the gladius at the left side of her hip and gripped the pommel tight, this action would be hidden from sight due to the bulky size of her gilded hoplon shield.
The blinding glare of her fiery spear would make it difficult to track with the naked eye, and Iolanthe abused this advantage more often then not when the sun shone brightly. With one final step forward, she'd eliminate the gap between Hyperion and her enemy, by making a powerful stab at Sigurd's chest. She leaned her right side in with the attack, empowering it and making full use of the spear's five foot blade, which was more than enough to pierce right through leather. Although she motioned a full all-in, her strength was half feigned, she had full control over her weapon's movement, and was instinctively expecting her opponent to deflect it and close in. She wanted to avoid having her weapon maneuvered around so easily, and so her first attack would be a means of testing her opponent's reactions.
"Here I come, Sigurd Stoneheart!" Iolanthe yelled, before ending the idle state her legs were in.
A slow and steady pace, one foot after the other, Iolanthe paced around the two stalagmites in her way, and diagonally positioned herself at a vantage point towards Sigurd's left side. She wanted her back to the wall, in case she finally found an opponent who could break her stance, falling down the mountain's side seemed too unpleasant. Alike the dance of a wolf, Iolanthe circled in and closed the gap slowly, whilst never taking her eye off the northerner. At all times she kept Hyperion aimed directly at her enemy's heart, whilst her arm kept tucked close to her waist. She approached at a suspenseful pace, any onlookers might wonder when one of the two fighters might burst forth with violent energy. Iolanthe's pacing stopped when she was only eight feet away from her enemy, and she'd exhale once, whilst glaring in to his eyes. What kind of ideas was he thinking? What part of her body was he focusing on? How much would he rely on instinct? All valuable questions she'd need answered right now. He had many different steel weapons at his disposal, so Iolanthe pulled her shield hand closer to the gladius at the left side of her hip and gripped the pommel tight, this action would be hidden from sight due to the bulky size of her gilded hoplon shield.
The blinding glare of her fiery spear would make it difficult to track with the naked eye, and Iolanthe abused this advantage more often then not when the sun shone brightly. With one final step forward, she'd eliminate the gap between Hyperion and her enemy, by making a powerful stab at Sigurd's chest. She leaned her right side in with the attack, empowering it and making full use of the spear's five foot blade, which was more than enough to pierce right through leather. Although she motioned a full all-in, her strength was half feigned, she had full control over her weapon's movement, and was instinctively expecting her opponent to deflect it and close in. She wanted to avoid having her weapon maneuvered around so easily, and so her first attack would be a means of testing her opponent's reactions.
@Zanavy I'm not really sure, but thanks for the offer... I really just feel most comfortable with the traditional post and reply style of roleplaying. It's my own problem, I guess? Not something everyone else should worry about. I'll fare fine replying to collabs everyone else makes!
If my character gets in to a heated conversation with someone, then I'll try and collaborate with them on how the talk went. That's the only thing I really see being important to have fast-paced responses for. So far, Hope is a snickering trickster hiding in the bathroom... XD And that's fine by me!
Honestly, I do have ideas prepared for how she'll react to the current collaborative works... but just like my character, I like seeing a surprise! I'd want to reply right away in the IC.
EDIT: Also, I have a job, a freelance career, an apprenticeship, and an addiction to video games... I'm usually only able to secure small times here and there to dedicate to roleplaying. It's hard to find a good time to drop in and stick around.
If my character gets in to a heated conversation with someone, then I'll try and collaborate with them on how the talk went. That's the only thing I really see being important to have fast-paced responses for. So far, Hope is a snickering trickster hiding in the bathroom... XD And that's fine by me!
Honestly, I do have ideas prepared for how she'll react to the current collaborative works... but just like my character, I like seeing a surprise! I'd want to reply right away in the IC.
EDIT: Also, I have a job, a freelance career, an apprenticeship, and an addiction to video games... I'm usually only able to secure small times here and there to dedicate to roleplaying. It's hard to find a good time to drop in and stick around.
Common sense was a powerful ally, and with it did Iolanthe trek the black mountain. She did not know how the conclusion came to her, but did not shrug such superstitions off, the knowledge that a battle would occur here on this day. It was never spoken aloud that the mountain's scape was a tournament of bloodshed, but it's history, drenched in death, hinted to nothing else. People died trekking up the mountain, and never did a group attempt the climb and come back side by side.
Iolanthe held her spear backwards and used it as a crutch to climb up the mountain, for the path she chose was not the beaten trail. She had some mountain climbing experience behind her, such as the time she visited the Oracle on mount Olympus. This black mountain was nothing like Olympus, however... it was very much alive, and the path became ever the more treacherous as Iolanthe navigated it. Eventually, the mountain's maw would deny her the advantage she sought, in her attempt to reach the peak without making contact with the other warriors. Bloodlust wasn't her thing, but it'd be forced upon her here. Tremors shook her off the side of the mountain she attempted to climb, until the path her eyes scouted out was no more. Sliding down a suddenly diagonal slope, she found herself in a narrow chasm.
"So the gods have spoken..." Iolanthe uttered under her breath, while turning her head down the pathway newly created. With her blessed sight, she could see far ahead, through the narrow route, a man stood in wait, a good eighty feet ahead in the only available open space she could spot for miles. Her hands carried the will of her devotion, and so she was willing to play the puppet in this game, she'd progress onwards with an unflinching courage, until she too became visible in the eyes of her designated enemy; From this standoff, each warrior could gauge one another.
The man standing before Iolanthe was scouted earlier, however his hurried unfaltering pace gave the hoplite little time to properly examine him. At first glance, he looked a bit rugged, like the many Germanic barbarians to the north; Iolanthe had some experience fighting off these heathens for the Romans. At second glance, the man seemed a slight bit taller than the average barbarian, his helmet was pretty unique, and the patterns woven in to his leather armour differed as well. Iolanthe's mind acted fast, and her eyes faster, at this distance she could scope in to his very pores, or lack thereof on his left arm, the colour of his eyes and hair, what scars were visible, and what weaknesses might be estimated based on those scars. A sigh escaped Iolanthe's lips, what a fine specimen of a man, he was obviously an incredibly skilled warrior, and a tad handsome to boot. Hopefully he had milked life's splendors to the fullest already, else Iolanthe would not enjoy killing a champion with no heir.
Hyperion wheeled about once in Iolanthe's hand, which outstretched with her arm so that the spear's tip pointed towards the northerner, whose name now became a thing of interest. "You who seeks the treasure of gods, state your name, and what reason compels you to climb this mountain!" Iolanthe loudly commanded, letting her voice echo across the mountain ledge. With honour, however, she wouldn't make such a demand without some mutual exchange. "I am Iolanthe Adastraia, champion of Hyperion! I seek the treasure to show my devotion to the solar, and bring liberation to my people! If I judge your resolve as impure, you will be shown no mercy! However... prove otherwise, and perhaps we can arrange for an honourable battle!" Iolanthe's eyes closed thusly, and her arm twisted to the side, pointing her spear instead towards the mountainous wall to her right. "Either way, by the sadism of the gods, the key to this wall is likely hidden in our blood... they seek a glorious performance! So then... Shall we give them what they desire?" Iolanthe finished her speech, and hoped it was not too much... or worse, if the Northerner couldn't speak or decipher the common tongue!
A standstill would last until the Viking warrior spoke his mind. Iolanthe knew she might die here... and if she did, she'd wish it by the hands of only the most honourable of champions. She had several coins strapped to her waist, which she would place upon her opponents eyelids, but only the ones who fought a respectable duel. She had enough extra to pay Chiron's fare if she were to fail.
Iolanthe held her spear backwards and used it as a crutch to climb up the mountain, for the path she chose was not the beaten trail. She had some mountain climbing experience behind her, such as the time she visited the Oracle on mount Olympus. This black mountain was nothing like Olympus, however... it was very much alive, and the path became ever the more treacherous as Iolanthe navigated it. Eventually, the mountain's maw would deny her the advantage she sought, in her attempt to reach the peak without making contact with the other warriors. Bloodlust wasn't her thing, but it'd be forced upon her here. Tremors shook her off the side of the mountain she attempted to climb, until the path her eyes scouted out was no more. Sliding down a suddenly diagonal slope, she found herself in a narrow chasm.
"So the gods have spoken..." Iolanthe uttered under her breath, while turning her head down the pathway newly created. With her blessed sight, she could see far ahead, through the narrow route, a man stood in wait, a good eighty feet ahead in the only available open space she could spot for miles. Her hands carried the will of her devotion, and so she was willing to play the puppet in this game, she'd progress onwards with an unflinching courage, until she too became visible in the eyes of her designated enemy; From this standoff, each warrior could gauge one another.
The man standing before Iolanthe was scouted earlier, however his hurried unfaltering pace gave the hoplite little time to properly examine him. At first glance, he looked a bit rugged, like the many Germanic barbarians to the north; Iolanthe had some experience fighting off these heathens for the Romans. At second glance, the man seemed a slight bit taller than the average barbarian, his helmet was pretty unique, and the patterns woven in to his leather armour differed as well. Iolanthe's mind acted fast, and her eyes faster, at this distance she could scope in to his very pores, or lack thereof on his left arm, the colour of his eyes and hair, what scars were visible, and what weaknesses might be estimated based on those scars. A sigh escaped Iolanthe's lips, what a fine specimen of a man, he was obviously an incredibly skilled warrior, and a tad handsome to boot. Hopefully he had milked life's splendors to the fullest already, else Iolanthe would not enjoy killing a champion with no heir.
Hyperion wheeled about once in Iolanthe's hand, which outstretched with her arm so that the spear's tip pointed towards the northerner, whose name now became a thing of interest. "You who seeks the treasure of gods, state your name, and what reason compels you to climb this mountain!" Iolanthe loudly commanded, letting her voice echo across the mountain ledge. With honour, however, she wouldn't make such a demand without some mutual exchange. "I am Iolanthe Adastraia, champion of Hyperion! I seek the treasure to show my devotion to the solar, and bring liberation to my people! If I judge your resolve as impure, you will be shown no mercy! However... prove otherwise, and perhaps we can arrange for an honourable battle!" Iolanthe's eyes closed thusly, and her arm twisted to the side, pointing her spear instead towards the mountainous wall to her right. "Either way, by the sadism of the gods, the key to this wall is likely hidden in our blood... they seek a glorious performance! So then... Shall we give them what they desire?" Iolanthe finished her speech, and hoped it was not too much... or worse, if the Northerner couldn't speak or decipher the common tongue!
A standstill would last until the Viking warrior spoke his mind. Iolanthe knew she might die here... and if she did, she'd wish it by the hands of only the most honourable of champions. She had several coins strapped to her waist, which she would place upon her opponents eyelids, but only the ones who fought a respectable duel. She had enough extra to pay Chiron's fare if she were to fail.
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