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The second fight was one of the bug people and a dwarf, which was over fairly quickly when the bug caught the hammer and wrenched it from the dwarf's grip with a swift twisting motion. And the third battle had a naga, much like herself but enormous, wielding an axe that Tressel doubted she'd even be able to pick up. The man in leather armor that she'd nearly run into managed to beat him into submission though.

But watching these fights, Tress realized that, again, her main course of action would be to stay out of reach and end the fight quickly. Melee, all melee, which she supposed made sense in a tournament like this.

So she watched as more than a dozen fights went through, quick and brutal. They hardly lasted longer than a couple seconds, which was expected. A real fight wasn't about showmanship at all, it was simply getting through to the enemy and taking them down. Swift and decisive.

All of a sudden, she heard her own name called. "Tressel Hifwood!" It was time to see if she could do it.

She slithered out onto the stone floor of the arena, glad that she wasn't standing on it with two feet. The gentle sand and grit beneath her tail was slippery, and on small, nimble feet, it would be downright treacherous. One of the more bulky men from one of the battles had already fallen because of it.

Her opponent was a short man wielding a long, thin sword. The man stood confidently, almost bored, sword at his side, with a simple breastplate across his chest. Remembering Morgen's words, Tressel smiled at him and nodded, the chin-up, pleasant kind of nod rather than the chin down, serious kind of nod. "Good luck!"

The man looked at her, then cracked his own grin, though he didn't say anything back. Together, they readied themselves, the man spreading his feet and holding up the sword, Tressel gently dropping her chain and wrapping it around the end of her tail.

From all around, the voice of the King came again. "Begin!"

In a flurry of movement, they both attacked. Tressel twisted on the spot, snapping her tail around and forward with the chain following. Every link on it made it's own quiet slithering sound as they rubbed against each other, the chain flinging out like a whip.

But the man twisted to the side, dodging the snapping links. He ran forward, sword raised, and Tressel was forced to slither backwards as best as she could. When the man was only a few feet away, she yanked back on the chain again, and it flipped into the man's back, wrapping around his chest.

But he was still close enough to swing his sword, and he sliced at her side. Tressel barely managed to avoid the quick blow, feeling it tear into her blouse somewhat. She slammed toward him with her tail, hitting him full in the stomach and sending him staggering backwards, until he was jerked to a halt by the chain wrapped around his chest. Reversing her movement, Tressel dragged him back once more, snatching at his sword hand with her own. Surprised and breathless as he was, she managed to grab his wrist.

In the next moment though, he wrenched it free again. He was too close to use the blade, so instead he smashed at her shoulder with the pommel, and Tressel grimaced at the pain. She shoved him away again, keeping the chain tight, and jerked her tail around to the side. His momentum was pulled along into a circle, and he was only able to stay on his feet for a few seconds. But then her weight threw him off, and he found himself dragging along the sandy, stony ground. The chain finally came loose, and he tumbled to a stop, dropping his sword in the process. While he was still winded, Tressel slithered over and scooped it up, holding it high.

He peered at it through his pain and the early morning sunlight, then sighed. Slowly standing, he raised both hands in defeat. "You win."

"And Hifwood wins!" The King's voice burst out among them again, the healers appearing and running their hands over their bruises and scrapes. Flipping the sword around, Tressel handed it back, who nodded, the chin down, serious nod.

I actually won. Who would have thought?

When Tressel was shaken into consciousness, she woke with less of a jerk and more with a groan. The cold felt like it had seeped into her bones and her brain, slowing her every movement. Slowly, she sat up, doing her best to stay upright. The face of the man in front of her was fuzzy, and his voice was as if it were coming through a meter of water. "Lady, you gotta get up. The tournament is soon."

The tournament. That's right. She turned toward the door, and could see sunlight streaming in. Only a few more people were in the sleeping room still, and most of them were the cold-blooded naga, having to be shaken awake after sleeping in these cold stone ruins. If she didn't get up and moving soon, Tressel thought she might fall into an artificial hibernation.

So she flopped off the cot and onto the floor, the chill seeping from below shocking to the touch. Remembering to grab her stuff, she slithered around the maze of cots and toward the door, trying to make it to the sunlight outside. She managed to find herself far to the right of the door instead, and put a hand out to let it lead her out.

When she finally emerged into the morning sun, it's warmth was invigorating. She could feel it burning away at the fog around her brain, her thoughts coming quicker again. The arena--or at least she assumed it was the arena, as of it was filled with people--was a loud murmur not too long away, so she headed toward it as fast as she could.

She was just in time to see the first battle start, or at least she assumed it was the first battle. A human and a Ztaari. They flashed back and forth, fast and furious in battle. Tressel was enthralled by their speed, but then she realized she still wasn't sure where the contestants were supposed to meet. Glancing around, she spotted the smaller crowd of people under one of the buildings around the stadium, wearing armors and weapons that set them apart from the rest. Slithering around the edges of the arena, she made her way there.

Maybe while she waited, she'd find Nisha in the crowd. She scanned through the people, looking for the distinctive armor she wore. A glint caught her eye, and she spotted someone in what looked like the right armor, right before they vanished again. Hoping not to lose her, Tressel slithered heedlessly forward--and nearly ran headfirst into a man decked out in leather armor. She jerked backwards moments from collision, and stopped. "Oh! Sorry, sorry!" Slower now, she slithered around him, then rose up to search for Nisha again. But the armored woman was nowhere to be found. She sighed.

Tressel had been hoping she would find Nisha somewhere in the crowd, but there were enough people in armor that she had hardly a hope of finding the Slayer. The cold stone floor and the huge meal were starting to get to her, and she felt sluggish and tired. It had been a fairly long day as well, so when the escorts came out, directing them toward a sleeping area, Tressel abandoned her search and slithered in to find a bed.

A few of the numerous cots were already filled, and more people were filtering in behind her as well, so she picked an large, unoccupied cot and did her best to fit in it. Despite the equality talks people had, it seemed they'd forgotten that Naga were quite a bit larger than any of the other races, as there didn't seem to be any place for her tail. Deciding she could simply borrow two cots for the moment, Tressel slid another one over to rest her tail in and get it off of the cold stone floor. Then she turned toward the door, deciding she would wait a bit before trying to fall asleep, see if Nisha walked in at some point.

But the longer she watched, the harder it became to stay awake. She felt herself slowly starting to drift off, struggling as much as she was to watch the door and those who came through. At this rate, she wasn't even sure she'd notice if Nisha clomped in with a battle cry on her lips and her sword drawn. Not that that was something Nisha would probably do. But maybe the armor was heavy and noisy. Would she even notice the noise after a while? Maybe the sword made more of a racket when she used it. How did all that armor stay on? It seemed awfully heavy and noisy. Maybe...

Tressel shook herself out of the drifting, confusing, meandering haze of sleep once more, sitting up straight..

Tressel slithered through the chaos of the hall, thinking back over her conversations. Morgen had hardly believed it when she said she had met an actual Slayer (albeit a new one). But it had only occurred to her a couple hours later that she could have asked Nisha about the Monster that destroyed her home. Maybe she could have found out what it actually was. But no point in worrying about it now. Perhaps she would see the newly-made Slayer here sometime. First she would have to make her way through the crowds, though. She dodged around a couple more groups, careful not to let her tail get trampled, and made her way to the Naga table.

The Naga table! There were actually a number of other Naga standing by it, tails curled up under and around in piles of scales. There they were, others like her, who she’d been searching for! Eager to introduce herself, Tressel slithered forward. “Hi!”

About half the table turned to look, some with smiles on their faces, a couple without. Almost all of their eyes were drawn to the stump by her side, but it seemed to be mostly curiosity. She gulped, then repeated herself. “Hey! I’m Tressel, and you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve seen another one of our kind.”

One of the girls grinned. “Hey, Tressel! Nice to meet you. Join us, come on!” The others took this as their que to turn back to the table and continue eating, while Tressel moved forward to find a spot. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t sure what to do with her tail. The others seemed to be keeping themselves separate, but Tressel longed to simply lie out with a tangle of family and friends again. She compromised, curling into a coil by herself, but leaving the tip of her tail free to brush against the others.

The table was stocked with massive piles of food, that Tressel was grateful for. As a Naga, she could actually go a couple of days without feeling hungry, but then when she did eat, she would eat a lot. Normally, she kept to the same eating schedule as Morgen, three smaller meals a day, but she’d forgone that for the trip, to keep things simple.

As she grabbed some breads and chicken, Tressel let her gaze travel around the table. Many of the other Naga had swords or axes at their sides, generally on the heavier side of the spectrum. Only the woman who had greeted her seemed to use a lighter variety, a long-bladed rapier strapped to her side. A fair number of the other Naga were wearing armor as well, ranging from tough, studded leather to full plate. Down at the end of the table was a single Naga man, who had himself raised a little taller on his tail than anyone else, wearing plate armor and with a massive axe at his side. On his breastplate, Tressel could just make out the now-familiar insignia of a Slayer.

Tressel didn’t normally have a hard time striking up a conversation, but now that she was here among her same species, her words seemed to be getting stuck in her throat. Everyone else was either talking amongst themselves or eating copious amounts of food, and they were fully occupied in doing so.

So for a while, as she ate, she ate in silence, simply listening to the conversations around her. The entire hall was echoing with the clamor of people enjoying themselves, and she was sure the rousing speech by the king had something to do with it. But while everyone seemed to have a feeling of comradery, Tressel couldn’t help but feel a little bit alone, curled up with herself among the coils of the other Naga.

Perhaps it hadn’t really been that important to look for people of her own kind as it was to simply find a couple friends, no matter what they might be.

With a small sigh, Tressel finished off her last bun and shoved off to go look for a familiar face, slithering among the bustling crowds.

The rough accent was a surprise to Tressel as well, as she had rather expected a nobler sounding tone. But it was close to how Morgen spoke, and that put her much more at ease, the smile on her face becoming a bit more genuine. Tressel herself would never give up the clear speech she had learned from her parents before they died, but she would always recognize the voices of other commoners with kindness.

"New, is it?" That actually made sense, and was a bit relieving. Maybe she didn't have as much experienced as she looked, so Tressel wasn't quite alone. Still, she hardly doubted that someone would spend so much on armor unless they knew how to use it. "Yes, you do strike quite the strong figure, I was a bit discouraged at first glance, in fact." Respect your opponent, no need to hold back that information.

Tressel had tucked the token away and was thinking about heading back to the market, when the next person to walk up to the stall caught her eye--and for good reason. He was decked out in full plate, the massive metal slabs layered over his back and shoulders, offering perfect protection from almost every side. And the sword... the sword was enormous, strapped to his side, yet Tressel could hardly see how he toted it around without having to constantly apologize for hitting knees and shins with the tip.

Half despairing, half awed, Tress realized she may very well have signed up simply to lose. Sure, she might not be a useless one armed girl who could barely hold her own, but she was nowhere near the level of competence that this knightly figure exuded. And this was hardly likely to be the only person dressed up like this, either. She glanced down at her own meager cloth blouse. Between that and the straw hat, she had hardly any protection at all. Though perhaps her scales would deflect a blow or two, they weren't exactly made for armed combat.

Of course, when the man turned around and revealed he was actually a woman, that came as a bit of a surprise as well. Not that it should have, but she was rather tall.

Judging by the easy way she walked, Tressel doubted the armor would slow her all too much. If they got paired up in the tournament--which Tressel hoped they didn't--she would need to rely on some other weakness to beat the intimidating lady. Which got her to thinking, somewhat. Maybe she could beat her, if she relied on her chain. That armor looked like it had plenty of places for a hook to latch on, for one.

As the woman walked away from the stall, Tressel put those thoughts aside for later. She would have to get used to thinking through some strategies on the fly, but now was not that time. Instead, she placed a warm look on her face, repeating the words Morgen had told her 'Enter every battle with a smile,' and slithered forward. "Hi! Are you entering the tournament too, then? I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed."

Quote from ChosenMental»

If you think 1.8 combat are only click click click then you are wrong.

The few brief moments through the portal felt like ages, ages of light and speed and a feeling of... of change. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, Tressel actually almost enjoyed it. It felt like shedding an old skin, of waking up after a long winter to find the world changed and different.

But she was still glad when it was over, and she found herself slithering out into a different city. She would have tumbled to the ground if she'd had feet instead of a tail, but instead the disorientation simply made her hold her head and lurch to the side, eyes dilated and face scrunched up in a small grimace. The feeling passed, and she was able to really inspect this new place.

The first thing she actually noticed was that the cobblestone beneath was now smooth and clean, more refined than the rough streets of the city below. She could feel the difference under her scales, and it told a lot.

The city matched the streets. Huge. Smooth. Cleaner. She was in the middle of a central area, with a fountain in the middle, but it was hard to see anything with the crowds. Because the people where everywhere, dwarf and elf and human and bug alike. The conversations that reached her ears were lilting and rough and snippets all the same, filled with a multitude of different laughing and yelling and chuckling voices. It was rather overwhelming, especially given how instant the transition had been.

But Tress found that she liked it. It was chaos, but she was a part of it.

Morgen appeared beside her shoulder, having followed through the portal. "Lot of other folks here for the tournament, aren't there?"

She grinned at him, sharp teeth showing. "All the better to sell your wares with, Morgen! I can see many people here who would be more than pleased to wear your furs when winter comes again!"

He chuckled at that. "First, we need to find a place to set up shop. Perhaps I'll take the furs, while you go see about getting into the tournament? You'll find me on the market side of the city once you're done, which is southeast. Think you can do that?"

"Of course. Southeast, I'll remember that." She shook her satchel slightly. "Perhaps I'll find something of worth on the way as well. Thank you, Morgen!" She slipped the heavy backpack off her shoulders and handed it to him, turning to slither off and start searching, before hesitating. Spinning back, she gave him a quick hug and a smile.

And then it was time to go. All she'd known was the comfort of town and friends and family for the past years of her life, raised first by her mother and her own kind, and then raised by Morgen and the townspeople. Now she was going to be alone again, but instead of solitary and living in the woods, she would be surrounded, surrounded by thousands of people.

She was excited.

Now, there had to be a place to learn about the tournament somewhere. Perhaps a stand or a stall, or a bulletin for news somewhere. Morgen had taught her to read the common language, so that would be no barrier.

No other Naga--yet, she reminded herself--but there were plenty of other people around to ask. Finding the first person who didn't seem to be talking with anyone else at the moment (a dwarf with a short white beard) she asked him where she might find information about the tournament. He simply gave her a half smile, half sigh and pointed down the street.

There, at the end, was a large sign above a stand that read "Ketto Sign-ups" There were a handful of people lined up in front of it, and as she watched, a bug-man, Ztaari, if she remembered correctly, stepped away, holding something in his(or her?) hand.

She didn't exactly want to sign up, but maybe she could ask him about it. After all, who better to know the details of a tournament than someone who was in it? So she slithered toward him and raised her hand. "Excuse me! Might I ask you some questions?"

Tressel slithered ahead on the path, grinning at the way the breeze played over her face. She twisted to look over her shoulder, holding her hat on her head to make sure it didn't blow away. "Hurry up, Morgen!"

He ambled along the trail, new cane helping him get along. He wasn't able to hunt much anymore, or go out in the woods even, but his age didn't stop him from rushing through life with exuberance. Recently, Tress had been seeing him more as a grandfather than as the father figure he'd used to be.

News had come in recently about the grand Tournament, being held by the King in the Capital. Of course, the young men and many of the young women were excited by this, taking some of their savings for the travel tax and gathering together. It couldn't have come at a better time, as the storing of crops and meats was over for the winter, and there wasn't much work left to do.

They'd gone ahead, traveling together. Tress had gotten an invitation to join them, but she'd decided to stay with Morgen along the way. He'd decided he might as well bring some of his business, furs from home, and Tress hadn't wanted to leave him to hobble the whole way alone, carrying his pack of pelts. They were almost to the town with the portal to the capital, and she could tell he was enjoying the journey.

And there it was. A small city, but still so much bigger than the town she was used to. It had walls, for goodness sake. Big tall walls, and spires that peeked up from behind. The closer they got, the bigger it seemed.

Small satchel hanging on her side, with her ever-present chain coiled on the other, and large backpack of furs over her shoulders, she really should have felt tired. But her tail was strong, her mind was alert, and she was excited. Anticipation, seeing new people, new places, new things. She'd saved up somewhat over the past couple years, but Morgen insisted on paying her way as well. So she had what little money she'd earned in her special blouse pockets (she didn't wear pants, after all), ready to be spent on some particularly nice or helpful item.

She wasn't actually sure what to think about the tournament, but she was rather excited. It was hard not to be, from the attitudes of the others. A contest, a battle to see who was the most skilled. What wasn't there to be eager for? Perhaps she'd even find another Naga or two.

And then they were there, at the gates of the city. There were people inside, milling around, setting up shops and engaging in conversations. Children squealed and chased each other over the cobblestones, and horses pulled wagons of wares. There were dwarves, short and stocky, laughing deep, and tall elven women standing at the stalls. She even saw what looked like a person with wings instead of arms, gesturing wildly about something or other.

But she didn't see a single other Naga. No tails, no scales. Tress was a little disappointed.

Morgen came up behind and put his arm on her shoulder. "This is a small city. Don't worry if they aren't here. Come, little miss, let's go find the Portal."

They wandered through the city, Tressel following behind. She drew a couple odd looks, but nobody seemed hostile, only surprised. Some were more interested with her missing arm than her other half. A few children made a game of jumping over her tail until their parents reprimanded them. Morgen asked a few of the vendors where they might find the portal, and they were pointed toward the middle of the town.

And then there it was. A framed arch, white marble on the cobblestone, centered in the middle of a square. An armored guard sat in front of it with a bored look on his face and a small box on a table set beside him. Even as she watched, an elf walked up to the portal and dropped a pair of golden coins in the box, receiving a wave from the guard to continue on. One step, and he vanished into the large glowing doorway.

"You go first, Tress." Morgen pulled out two coins from his small leather purse, curling her fingers around them. "It's quite the experience, and I'll be right behind you."

She nodded, holding the coins determinedly. Slithering up to the guard, she gently tossed the coins in the box. The man gave her a tired smile and a wave, his gaze curious over her arm and her scales.

Taking a deep breath, Tress glided forward into the glowing, watery light.

Woohoo! Thanks, I'm glad that sounded better. This is gonna be awesome!

Sheesh wow, this is pretty old now, ain't it? I replied to that when I was still 16. Thanks a lot for the answers!

And yeah, I can see where the farming and the griefing come into it.

Hmm, so a better reason to have magic. I was thinking of telling a bit more of her story, maybe. I sort of made up a forest deity on the spot, but I left it vague so he could be pretty much anyone. Perhaps he is simply another magic-worker, (a moderately powerful one, of course) who she meets up again and teaches her a bit? I feel like that would need a bit more of your approval, mostly because I'm not sure what other beings inhabit this world.

Another option could be that once she gets really down into the world and the forest, rather than just picking up on magic she really digs down and does her best to figure out what makes the plants grow and the breeze flow, working all through her years in the forest to understand it better and work with it as well. I could even take out the control over breezes thing if I need to, as it is a rather strange thing to learn, though I rather liked it, for effect, perhaps for guiding the chain in flight, and maybe leading up to more wind powers in the future.

Eventually, I want to have her tell the story of why she no longer lives in the forest (if the story calls for them to be somewhere else) and where she got the chain that she uses, and I'm not sure if it would be better in her History or in the RP itself, as that mini-story up there is already getting rather long.

Then again, there are spoilers. Doesn't make it any faster to read, but doesn't take up as much room, I suppose.

EDIT: So I've added a bunch more, and now I'm wondering if there should be a hard limit on how long I make this history or not? I've got one more section in mind where she gets her chain, and the feather she keeps in her hat, and while spoilers are helpful it still is fairly long. Then again, this is a whole forum based on reading and writing, right?

History: (getting kinda long)

That was impressive, though I was expecting just flowerpots Don't flowerpots break instantly though, and drop when the block they are placed on breaks?