The gateway opened to the arena, a place where legends were born and a battle waged to determine the strongest fighter alive. Unsurprisingly, it was a simple, traditional ring of 100 feet in diameter that would serve as proving ground for the initial match. It was completely surrounded by spectator stands, protected by a barely visible magical barrier. After the fighters were lead into the ring, they were given a few minutes to warm up, during which they noticed a few things. For starters, the ground was a single thick block of stone, not even a single pebble or bit of loose earth lay beneath them, while the 'walls' consisted only of the magical barrier, stopping anything from leaving the ring and endangering the spectators and were, quite simply, impossible to climb.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The announcer's voice spoke up, although the owner of the voice remained unseen. "Welcome to the McleodGaming tournament! I know our warriors are aching to test their mettle, so I'll keep this short. The strongest fighter must be capable in straight combat, therefore this arena has been designed to take as many tactical elements out of the equation as possible. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, so go out there and crack some skulls! And for those who might be preparing to 'give it their all', don't forget that other participants might have spies in the audience, waiting for you to show off what you can do, so don't be too hasty in showing all your abilities!" The announcer ended his 'short' speech, thankfully, with some useful information.

"Now, moving on to the rules! It's quite simple. The fight doesn't end until one or both fighters are unable to continue or in the event that they surrender. Attacking a fighter that has abdicated or been incapacitated will result in immediate disqualification. And remember, we all like blood and gore in these fights, but refrain from killing your opponent. It's just not very sporty. Got all that? Well then, no need to stand around and twiddle your thumbs! Ready... Set... FIGHT!"

OOC: what? First one I'm in, I'm against someone who's been in RPB for, well, a while D:

IC: Hzark looked around, trying to find anything that could be used somehow to give him an unfair advantage. Judging from his opponent's arrogant expression, he was against 'finesse'. The matchup was incredibly ironic, especially for a random match up. He lowered his knees slightly, getting into his 'fight or flight' position, allowing himself to dodge with further ease: a metal rod would not be all someone would come into a tournament with, it was too simple. Having reached this conclusion Hzark, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, lay against the wall and waited, ready to get up and the first sign of movement

OOC: Don't worry, I'm easy modo.

Ari faced his opponent, dressed up in his jester's uniform. He bent forward, his pipe by his right side. He'd hope he would've faced someone with...less long-range capabilities, but one cannot have everything he thought. "Am I fighting a garden gnome?" he said out loud, completely devoid of any humor or emotion. Slowly, his figure had gotten a bit taller and thiner, his clothing becoming an Jester's (even having a belled hat), and finnaly the rod he had became a scepter. "Oh course, that would make it a lot easier to punt you." he said, his voice a lot more mocking.

Hzark fumed before catching himself. This guy was some wacko, magic, hocus-pocus riff-raff. One false move and, well, something very bad would happen to him.

He raised his shot gun and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, he didn't use a gun very much and, in fact, he was about 15 degrees too far to the left. He fumed and pulled out his mace and waited.

Unfortunately for Ari, his opponent had a gun. Fortunately, he appeared to be a bad aim, shooting to the right of Ari. To be on the safe side, he sidestepped to the right. As he did so, he brought out a single bomb to his left hand. Lighting it up, he threw it hard as he could.

Hzark swore. His opponent obviously knew his geometry. But then again, given that he knew this trick, then everyone else probably did as well. Pulling out his rifle and replacing his mace, Hzark dived out of the way of the incoming bomb, listening to it explode a few metres away. Pulling himself up, he looked at his opponent, raised his rifle again and fired again, reloaded, fired, reloaded. The first was shot properly and would hit where he aimed. The other 2, well... he didn't have enough time to aim properly. He dropped his gun. It was useless to his opponent and quite frankly, he wanted to finish this the old fashioned way. Pulling out his dagger, Hzark began walking towards his opponent

OOC: I know this is rubbish. I'm half asleep and I've had a LONG day
Also the trick I was referring to can be seen here

Ari dodged quickly to the right, taking a side hop, but the first bullet hit, wounding him partially in the side. He paused, ignoring the other two bullets in order to take a look at it. There was no blood, nor any flesh for that matter, but he still groaned because of it, trying to clasp it as if the cloth could magically sew itself together (which it didn't).

"And now I will avert my eyes from the wound, so I divert my attention to the buffoon facing me to..." he started, bringing out two decks of cards, raising them above his head, "open you to a world of hurt!" he ended, lashing out with his arms, the cards coming until they were about half his arm's length. It was a weak insult, but it did go along with taking out his cards/blades. His fingers tapped on the cards, as he walked towards his foe with a blank mask.

Hzark stopped. There was some sort of trick that he'd missed. Cards are not weapons. They may have done it in Daredevil, but that was a story, not real life! He swapped his dagger with his mace, going for further range and waited, about 3 metres away from his opponent, waiting for the trick to unveil itself.

"What? Worried about the cards?" Ari said, crouching, yet still moving. "Should be, these ain't no mere cards my good opponent, no mere cards..." he giggled, scraping a arm of cards across the ground, creating scraping noises like metal. These cards were light as a feather, yet sharp as a fine blade, it was a wonder why Ari never got cut with them (although being something like magic, items like these are commonplace).

Hzark swore. If he hadn't discarded his gun, he could have shot his opponent while he was bending over. He lowered his mace down to his side, like a cricket bat. If he was American, he'd have probably used it like a baseball bat but either way, crutch shots were rather funny. If his opponent threw one of the cards he could hit it with the mace and if his opponent tried to hit him directly, he had a longer range.

Ari slowly circled around Hzark. Just a bit more, 'til that Gnome's in the center... he constantly focused on the opponent, not trying to give away anything. "Well, this is boring" he said, his mask making two dashes as he shrugged. He crouched, putting back the line of cards in his right, exchanging it for three narrow knives, holding each in between his knuckles.

((Lucky! You nearly missed the cut-off))

Hzark turned around on the spot ((I stopped earlier remember?)) keeping both eyes firmly fixed on his opponent. It was a classic predator - prey scenario. He was the cornered gazelle and his opponent was the lion. He just hoped that this guy couldn't clone himself.

Ari's scepter floated without a sound. It was handy to have to have something that'll come back to you like a boomerang. It flew at a low height, enough to catch Hzark. At the same time, the crouching Jester threw the knives in his right as he charged.

OOC: Sorry, charged where? At me, to a point where I might go?

I can't really reply until I know this

OOC: I usually associate it with at the target, so the former. Eh, sorry I haven't made it clear.