Tomb Soldier

Key:Ingredients
Character Name: Ingredients
Topic: Tomb Soldier (AKA Namekian Gladiator)
The RP itself:

Year: 8.2

Solveig fell to the ground mercilessly, his two swords had been flung from his hands from the last hit he took. His vision waned for a moment as he fought for the strength to get up just one more time...just….one more time... His normally green skin was tinged with pink and purple as wounds and blood told of his efforts to fight. In front of him stood a hulking creature with dark blue pimpled skin. It drew deep heaving breaths as it took a moment to savor its victory,

“You were stronger than I thought you would be...” The creature would say, and look to its right at something on the ground. “To think you could hurt me so badly…”

Solveig didn’t have to look to know what it meant. Just a few minutes before, as they fought in the air above, he had managed to sever one of the creature's arms with a blast of ki.

“Just…” Solveig would cough up some blood onto the grass as some of his organs shifted position from his movements. “Take me…”

	The beast would give Solveig an evil grin as he struggled to get out his words, it had no pity or sympathy for him.

	“Leave t- young ones..” More blood followed these efforts to speak, and the alien’s response was to place a massive four toed foot heavily onto Solveig’s back.

	“No, no, no. You see you three now belong to me.” the creature would smirk as it leaned in close towards Solveig to whisper something to him. “I will need a new arm…” it would say it’s breath like hot coals. “And I can’t just grow one like you…” Teeth would flash as anger crossed it face. “And those are expensive, so I think I will just sell you, I don’t ever want to see you again.” The creature would reach out now and with it’s remaining right hand grasped Solveig by both of his arms. It would lift him up and laugh, bringing its face close to his.
The blue alien would reach around itself toward a bag it had strapped to itself with a strong leather strap around the shoulders. From it he withdrew a pair of cuffs that had lines of energy running throughout them. The beast would bring them round and onto Solveig’s arms.  “And I think I’ll keep those weak children as my own personal slaves. That way every day while you wonder whether they are dead or alive from across the universe, I will have one more happy thought to distract me from my arm.”
The alien would then push a button in the center of the cuffs, simultaneously dropping him with practiced ease.

	Even before Solveig’s body hit the ground electricity began to cause his body to convulse. The cuffs buzzed happily as they transmitted a constant flow of pulsed electricity to its victim. Solveig’s mind went blank as he passed out from the pain.



Year 12

Ingredients had no concept of days any more. He kept track of his time now by fights. This will be one hundred and twenty two, he thought to himself. In front of him a large steel door began to open ascending slowly, no doubt to help build tension for the show. He had only known Namek for two months before his entire family was taken. Now, he only saw Sarkhan when they were released to their bunk, or if they were training.Though that didn’t stop them from communicating. Their father he hadn’t seen since that day.

<Well you should think about taking a more offensive stance next time. And your opponent won’t even have time to think.> Ingredients would communicate via telepathy to his egg brother. He hadn’t told his Brother about this fight. He didn’t want to worry him. That is to say them fighting for their lives was not uncommon place since their enslavement. But this fight could mean more than just ensuring there is a tomorrow.

The heavy door creaked as it stopped, fully open now. Ingredients would step forward and out into the stadium behind him he dragged one of his father's swords. A spotlight turned and, and quickly found his position as he stopped at a small blue circle drawn in the arena’s sand. As he took his position a small opaque force field formed around him. Ingredients tried to look out to see the crowd, but he could see just like every other day the bleachers were left in the dark to prevent distraction.

Without pause an announcer's voice, enthusiastic as ever came over unseen speakers.

“Fighting for the Blue wager, is a rare treasure indeed. An Albino of it’s kind from the planet Namek. He uses a sword as well as ki and can take a lot of punishment. So far he has fought in 121 different duels. He must be trying to make a name for himself by taking this title since killing either one of these two will take some real talent which is why…”

Another spotlight would turn on and point to the the opposite end of the arena. As usual Walls short and tall had been set up all around the pit to block a fighter's view and give cover to ranged attacks. Ingredients would realize that he could at least get a reading of his power with his senses, and would close his eyes feeling towards the other end of the pit.

“Fighting for the Red wager is name you have heard far and wide, from the planet Zarflax comes a fighter you know and love! He holds the Named Title of Tomb Soldier. He is of course, Duntooroon!“

Ingredients would hear the coliseum boom as sudden cheers and yells rang out from thousands of different creatures. The little Namekian would stumble as he also felt the raw power that his opponent held. It dwarfed his own, it must be two or three times his own if what he felt was right. He thought back to his meeting with his owner earlier that day.

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Ingredients entered the room making sure to close the door behind him. His hand were bound in energy cuffs so it made his movement a little stiff. The room was extremely well furnished, luxurious tables displaying fantastic items which the young Namek could only guess at were only overshadowed by how many there were. He was child by anyone’s standard, but in these circuits only power seemed to matter. At the end he came in was the door, and then around the circumference were the various exhibited items. At the rooms opposite end sat a large sleek metal desk, and behind that was his owner, the same monster which took him from his home. The creature was holding something in its four hands, and set it down as it noticed that Ingredients was here.

“Ah, so good to see you again young Namek.” The alien would motion with it’s one robotic hand toward a far less comfortable seat than the one it was currently sitting on. Ingredients would sit, knowing that fighting would only end in him convulsing on the ground.

“I have to say, despite your record you are still my best fighter, you know this don’t you?”

Ingredients would nod, it was never a secret.

“Your next fight will be more difficult. The fighter you will be facing is a well known and has a Named Title. One that you will take if you kill him.”

“Alright.” the young namekian would respond. He didn’t really care about a stupid title. There were only two things he cared about.

“The odds on you are high. You know what that means don’t you?”

“They think I will lose…but I-”

The alien would cut him off. “I don’t really care what they think, or what you think for that matter. You are here so I can tell you something so shutup.”

Ingredients would frown but immediately stop talking.

“I will tell you why you will win today. If you die your brother will be fight in the pit’s for the rest of his life making me money and maybe in another four years I will have another small fortune. I know that is the one thing you do care about, so at least think about that.” His owner would pause and place his bottom two hand onto the desk clasped together, while the top pair steepled under his enormous jaw.

 “But… A Pit Fight with Named Title is given their freedom. So if you win I can’t exactly keep you around anymore. But, the good news for me is that I have a small fortune. I am going to bet that small fortune on you, and if you somehow manage to win I will then have a large fortune.”

 The alien would stop for a moment, looking a bit more bookish than fearsome as he paused to give the the kid some time to think about it.

“The Title also comes with a fairly decent reward for its holder. So of course that would be the cost to buy your brother. I am sure I would never see the end of you if I kept him. But either way he will make me money.” The alien would smile snidely at Ingredients. “It’s the least I can do.”

The young pure white Namekian would look up at the blue alien with a look that resembled hope. He wasn’t sure if what he was being told was true, it wouldn’t be the first time that his owner would have lied to him. But as Ingredients looked at the creature in front of him he realized that this was not exactly the same slaver that had come to their planet over four years ago. Perhaps not even the same one as yesterday, metaphorically speaking of course. He had never heard or seen any rules for the fights, besides kill your opponent however you can. He couldn’t remember seeing the alien fight since that day. After that he only saw him when they met like this, to be told what to do, or given ultimatums. If the young Namekian didn’t know any better he would think that he was being told the truth. He would open his mouth to answer the being but it was already pointing towards the door.

“Go. I don’t care what you have to say. It’s what is happening.”

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Over the uproar the announcer's voice attempted to wrangle some semblance of control,  and at one point it was nearly deafening. But the audience wanted to see what they paid for and eventually it died down to a general murmur, finally the announcer continued.

“Duntooroon holds 338 duels to his Title, and is one of the strongest fighters to have entered into the pit this decade. ”

As the announcer finished speaking the spotlights would turn off, and dozens of sets of lights around the pit would turn on.

“Begin!”

The field around Ingredients dropped and he ran forwards. His father's sword followed him like a silver snake as he bolted around a low cover wall intent on ending the fight as quickly as possible. The crowd was silent and all he could hear what thumping of his own footsteps as he made half way across the pit. He stopped, expecting to see his opponent peeking around cover, but instead he saw nothing.

<Is he hiding?> he would think to himself.

Ingredients was no stranger to ki and its flow within all livings things, and he would close his eyes attempting to sense his enemy. He could sense it, and it was still overwhelming but he could not tell how far away or what direction. It felt like a warm powerful hug all around him and he opened his eyes just at the moment someone appeared just behind him on his right.

	The young Namekian would start to turn but he wasn’t nearly quick enough.

	“A smooth unnerved voice would say, “A child?” before he felt a hand slam into his neck.

What happened next was hard for Ingredients to describe at first. There was the pain of course, and he felt his body swell from the sheer kinetic force his body just could not withstand. Some part on the opposite side of his body broke first, and he felt himself go cold and weightless, but it was alright because everything suddenly went black.

	Ingredients opened his eyes after what felt like moments and looked around confused. He was pretty sure he had just been killed. He had felt the left side of his body combust from the force of the hit, and the little Namek would touch himself to make sure he was indeed one piece. Looking around he realized he didn’t seem to be in the pit, around him seemed to be an endless desert. There was no one around, and the sand was cool and soft on his feet. He thought he would feel at peace, but he still felt...normal. He was finally at the end that hell of a life, but all it seemed to him was a far more boring extension of his old one. Ingredients decided to walk, thinking that surely there must be something else past this place.

It might have only been a few minutes before his head started to ache. It was low and unnoticeable at first, but the migraine grew quickly and intensely. The pain made it unbearable to walk and he stumbled suddenly as he clutched his head. His vision began to blur to the point that trying to look around made him dizzy. To save himself the nausea he closed his eye fighting back tears as it overwhelmed him.

	“What the hell…?” that same smooth voice came to him.

Ingredients thought he still had his hands on his head and opened his eyes. The pain was still persisting but at least it seemed he had his vision back. Groggily he lifted up his head to see that he was now laying on the ground, back in the pit. The little namek would put a hand to his head in an attempt to ease the pain. Around him he saw what looked like a purple and white blemish on the ground.

	“What the hell are you?” said the voice.

Ingredients would turn his head to look and see a slim form nearby. His thoughts swam as the pain pounded on his mind like a drum.

	“You are too weak to win child!” the voice would say, and Ingredients tried to stand up as he heard the sound of light foot steps running towards him.

He vaguely remembered he should try to block and sloppily moved his free hand in a vain attempt. But he was not even close. A palm caught him in the head and he felt his body lift off the ground and take flight. It was only the wall that stopped his movement and he fell heavily from an rough outline of his body that had been engraved. He only had time to cough before he felt a presence over him, and heard someone scream out something and there was a powerful flash of ki.

Ingredients came to with a gasp this time to look around to an increasingly familiar setting. The vast desert was all around him now once more. Though that terrible pain was gone now. He sat up feeling as if he had not just been tossed around like a doll wondering what was happening to him. He looked down at his hands but they gave way to no secrets, and he grimaced as he felt the far away drums of that pain. He looked around desperate for an answer as the throbbing began its crescendo, but there as before there was no one around but him. The migraine did hurt this time, but Ingredients immediately noted that it was not nearly as intense as the first time. If he concentrated hard enough he could still think, he had to figure out-

“Fuck! Again!?”

Ingredients couldn’t tell the exact moment that it happened, but he had blinked and now found himself once more facing the ceiling of the coliseum. The headache persisted but it was something bordering tolerable, less than he had felt in the desert. He looked around as he pushed himself up, and found his fingers dipping themselves into a gory mess on the ground. He pushed himself up feeling a bit lighter then he remembered.

<This has to stop…> he would think as he tried to get a grip on his current reality.

Ingredients barely had time to register the foot falls once more as he turned to see the creature known as Duntooroon. He was slim indeed, although much taller than Ingredients. Around the creature were fine ornate blue robes would spun as the alien did as he brought one of his two hands around towards Ingredients. His opponents pink skin shone brightly under the pit lights as force spun Ingredients around as he hit the ground and tumbled a dozen feet.

Though the pain in his head persisted he managed to stop his roll and come up on one knee. Already Duntooroon was sprinting towards Ingredients intending to finish him off once more, and the namek would raise an arm to block. The man’s punch felt like a thousand hammers and sent Ingredients shifting in place across the sand from the impact.

<I- I can’t believe I’m still standing up!> Ingredients would think to himself briefly, As he saw Duntooroon throw a roundhouse kick at him. Ingredients would duck it and try to counter by moving underneath it bringing his own uppercut at the man. But Duntooroon merely used a hand to slap away his attack and responded with a shove to Ingredients’ shoulders.

An elbow to Ingredients ribs followed the previous attack with both hands raised barely managed to block the last attack from the combo with his palms. Once more he was thrown up into the air. He had enough sense to use his ki to stop his flight, and would heave tired breaths as he tried to have just a few seconds to recover. Duntooroon had no such plans as ki balls were now halfway to their destination Ingredients prepared himself and smacked one away. His timing was getting better and as two more came near him he managed more successful deflections. Ingredients had to turn as a ki ball grazed his face leaving a deep cut and when he looked back he was all too surprised as a wave of pink ki washed over him. It was painful, but at this point it seemed normal as his smoking body fell to the earth. He felt too tired to move any more without some kind of assistance.

“When will you take the hint and die?” Duntooroon’s voice said almost softly above him. “You are really nothing compared to me, you would need to live one hundred times over before you can have a chance at matching my skill.” Duntooroon would laugh and press a foot onto Ingredient’s head crushing his face into the sand. “How do I kill you?” he would ask pressing forcefully onto the boy’s head.

Ingredients wouldn’t know the answer himself, not that he had the strength to tell him anything at this point. His mouth made gurgling sounds he felt something pooling up in his throat. Duntooroon would growl in aggravation as one his hands began to glow and Ingredients woke back up in the desert.

<This is some kind of sick gift…> He would think to himself, <A gift I don’t understand, but one I can use.> The little namek would take up meditation position knowing that he did not have too long before he would be back to normal. Mentally he tried to go over Duntooroon’s movements. He hadn’t seen all that much of what the alien had to give but at this point everything he knew would count. With some focus and an with an actual plan Ingredients could only smile as he once more felt that familiar headache begin once again.

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	It took thirty six deaths, thirty six different unique painful deaths. After the tenth time each seemed to become more and more painful as Duntooroon continued to resort to tortuous methods. The frustrated alien tried as he might to completely end the young Namekian, but after the twentieth, Ingredients no longer felt any pain from the headaches. On his twenty fourth death, halfway through the second hour  Ingredients realized that his body was changing. Every time he died he grew stronger, knew more, and managed to keep up with Duntooroon by just one more step. Duntooroon seemed to realize this as well as he did everything in his power to ensure that at the very least every death was agonizing, long and painful. The agony of this continuous defeat and torture  fueled Ingredient’s intent. Every time he found himself visiting the desert world he come to understand more and more what a hell could be.

	By now the pit was covered with small and large pieces of Ingredients. He felt so used to seeing an arm come off, or the taste of his own blood in his mouth he sometimes forgot there was something else beyond this fight.

But, now this was the end. Ingredients stood in front of a battered Duntooroon. The creatures own thick blue blood mixing into the mess that was the ground. Duntooroon rushed at Ingredients once more, and the young Namek could see the pain and fear growing within the man as their fists flashed from blocks to counters to full on offensive combos. They each took a few hits before jumping away from each other. Duntooroon took a step back and Ingredients heard an audbile crack. The alien yelled out in distress and pain and fell to one knee glaring at Ingredients. The namekian would approach Duntooroon but the man would charge up a ball of ki and fling it at him. With practiced easy Ingredients used a smooth motion to almost wave it away as he deflected it off into a wall. Ingredients would flash step next to the man and hop, bringing his knee into his skull and sending him into the ground.

“I didn’t think you could do it…. “  Duntooroon would cough up some of his own blood as he began to laugh maniacally.

”I get it now… Hahahaha…. I get the joke you’ve played…. ” Duntooroon’s red eyes and black iris’ would roll towards Ingredients as the Namekian stood over him. With a crazed look glossed over them and foam at the edges of his mouth he would scream. “Now it’s my turn to come back, right!?”

Ingredients would swing his father's sword over his shoulder bringing its dulled edge down onto the man's neck. The crunch would echo in the silent Collisieum for an eerie minute before Ingredients said, “Right…”
And then the crowd burst into cheers.





Possible Rewards:
.3 Dura + Res
DR Increase by 1
BP mult  changed from 1.8x - 2x


Possible Debuffs:
Decline at 80 instead of 180.
Reduce Med mod to 3x
½ Int mod