This thread is for the IC parts of the Swordmasters RP that don't involve directly fighting. This is where they train, socialise, and generally spend their time between being called up to fight, and watching other people who've been called up to fight.
Applications are still open, and can be found here.
The Arena thread is here.
Having left the arena early, Youmu's senses returned to her in an entirely different area. Some machinery was whirring a few feet away - and from right below her. Quickly, she stepped off the pad she'd appeared on, suspicious of the technology. Nobody else seemed to be around, but she'd definitely seen others at the arena - and the two fighting, of course. Though a door led off to another area, she didn't leave just yet.
The AI arrived in a burst of azure flames and briefly stared at the white-haired. A strange white orb accompanied her as well, in contrast to the corrupted knight. Was this another AIDA-PC as well? Infected PCs usually had black ooze pouring out from them like the knight, but this was different. The orb was pure white. Perhaps it was just an ordinary AIDA, but Azure Kite would keep an eye on this one.
'Two targets aquired.' He thought as he wandered over to the training room and picked up two wooden short swords. It was a far cry from the exotic shape of Empty Skies, but it would have to do. Nevertheless, they still shared the basic shape of his signature weapons. He began to perform some basic blows on a dummy, waiting for the right time in the combo to perform a Staccato. Suddenly, parts of the dummy burst and Azure Kite made his move, shattering the rest of it.
The cyan-haired boy left Youmu in a cold sweat - she couldn't tell what was behind that cold, one-eyed stare, but it was something worth avoiding. He'd walked off to go do something else before she could say anything, and she decided to leave it for the time being. Instead, she wondered who would be next to arrive, to keep her mind off him.
Artorias woke, he had been told that it would take longer to bring him here than some of the others, and was asked if he would permit a copy of him to fight in an exhibition match. He saw no harm in it so he agreed, especially when they told him he could watch a recording of it later. He looked forward to seeing the flaws in his style firsthand, besides he doubted the first match of the real tourney would feature him, so he would have plenty of time to make up for the others getting to observe him.
He stood and wandered the living quarters, somewhat eager to meet his fellow combatants, the corruption of the abyss was subdued at the moment, and they had taken his blade, so he felt that they would be in little danger from him, especially if they were skilled enough to be invited to this battle.
He soon saw a strange girl, accompanied by a ghostly orb, it resembled a spell he had seen sorcerers use, but its presence reminded him of the ghosts of New Londo, "Greetings, I am Artorias, Knight of Gwynn the Lord of Sunlight, I take it you are among my fellow combatants?" he said to her, he was suspicious of the orb, but it would not serve any purpose to be rude.
In much the same manner as he'd left the Arena, Archer re-appeared on one of two pads in an empty room. He shook his shoulders about, loosening the joints. The teleportation was not a particularly pleasant experience. He scanned the room and found it plain. It seemed to serve this one function and nothing else. That was when he noticed he was not alone. The young girl he'd seen before was standing in the same room as him. Archer made eye contact before he had fully processed her presence. After lingering just a second too long, he broke away with a very blatant attempt at composure.
"...Hmph. Apparently, white hair is as much a qualifier for this tournament as skill with a blade."
He saw the knight that had been in battle before, as well. Artorias? Sounded familiar. If he'd been speaking with a woman's voice, he might have gotten suspicious.
He stepped off of the pad, folding his arms and looking up into the air, not bothering to properly introduce himself. There was an impatient look on his face.
"So. Is this announcer man going to let us fumble around trying to figure out how all this works, or will we be getting instructions at some point?"
Everyone seemed interested in Youmu's ghost half recently. She didn't know what was up with it - unless nobody had ever seen anything like it before. Either they didn't have ghosts where they came from, or they'd never seen one so attached... She realised that the large knight from before was talking to her.
"My name is..." She wondered whether to give her family name first, then realised he was speaking English or something like it, and they didn't do that. "Youmu Konpaku. My master has given me leave to enter this tournament..." Not wanting to mention Yuyuko too early, she changed the subject. "I saw you fighting before. Must be pretty strong to carry gear like that, huh?"
"Ah, you saw some recreation of me fighting, I'm not sure how it works myself, at any rate I am quite strong, though that is hardly the only measure of a warrior," he said, he didn't want to seem as though he was bragging.
"What of yourself? Your name sounds similar to some of the people from the East that I have met, and your weapon resembles theirs as well, where do you hail from?" he asked politely, he was well aware that she was likely from another world entirely but it seemed the best way to ask such a question.
He glanced at the strange white haired man, who appeared to be wearing a red coat of some sort, "I am sure all will be revealed in time, what is your name?" he asked, it would be best to be acquainted with all his fellow contestants.
Orange awoke, some time after Artorias. Apparently he had too much gear, and was forced to give up his horn, shovel, bow, and even his health potions! He sighed with frustration, at least he'd get to see how awesome he was later. Though his mid section hurt a bit... Probably nothing.
Orange strolled around, noticing other combatants lack of armor. Only one had seemed to even bother, and he vaguely recognized him. Best to not speak with him, either way, he seemed to be dripping something evil. And so to was the weirdo with the one eye, whom he had found in the training room.
"So, uh, I see you like belts." Orange mentioned, trying to make small talk. He made his way over to a training dummy, unlike the ones from his home it wasn't a scarecrow with a bullseye on its' chest. Rather, it seemed more human in design, with sociopathic detail. Orange shrugged, whipping out some crappy wooden sword, giving a few horizontal slashes, slamming down the blade to complete the combo, folding the dummy like an accordian.
Archer gave a leery look at the man asking for his name. The giant was a knight after all, then, and not just some mad beast. If he'd heard the man in the dark, silvery armor correctly, then what he had seen in the arena was an approximation of the contestant's form, and not the actual self that he was seeing now. So if he hadn't actually been present in that fight, then that meant...
In a flash of light, the Orange Knight stumbled into the room, looking around quietly and appearing rather frustrated. As if something were missing. He strolled off quickly, leaving Archer in his wake quietly shaking his head. "So he's still in this after all... I almost feel sorry for the little gnome."
Not bothering to open his eyes, he quietly frowned as he told Artorias, "The name that would best suit me is Archer. Tell me, Knight of Gwynne."
His eyes fixated on his form, cold but mildly curious as he studied his shape. "I'm curious what a Knight of one who symbolizes the sun is doing with an image that oozes poison?"
The knight--Artorias, she remembered--seemed to be talking to the other white-haired man, after asking where she'd come from. She didn't know exactly what to tell him - the land of ghosts, the Netherworld; or her actual living place of birth, Gensokyo? Eventually she decided on the latter, again not wanting to make her heritage clear right away. "The land I come from is called Gensokyo," she told him. "It's...Dangerous for those who don't know it, but I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather come from." Except maybe the Netherworld, as an actual ghost... she added silently.
Seeing that the orange knight from before had gone to another room, she followed him inside and found the cyan-haired man from before, and the knight, using some wooden swords to attack dummies. Without meeting either of their gazes, she dragged another dummy into a corner and picked up a katana off the rack. Swinging it around in the air to get a feeling for its weight, she quickly slashed at the dummy from below. As it left the ground, she jumped into the air after it, using an overhand strike to send it back down to the ground. It had fallen on its side, so she pushed it back upright with her foot before attacking it more normally.
"I'm curious what a Knight of one who symbolizes the sun is doing with an image that oozes poison?"
"It is... not a proud story," Artorias began, hesitating slightly before continuing, "The inhabitants of a land known as Oolacile roused Manus, Father of the Abyss, and the Abyss began to consume their land. I, having earlier discovered the art of Abysswalking and possessing a desire to aid them, set out to defeat him and save their land, I failed and this... corruption that lingers on my person is the foul presence of the Abyss. I have resisted its influence so far, but it gnaws at my mind, as does the knowledge of my failure, I fear I must warn you, it can make me quite dangerous to those around me at times."
He paused, attempting to gauge Archer's reaction to this, there was more he could tell of course, small details mostly, a few larger ones too of course, but this man did not need to know everything. He decided to wait to hear how the man would react to the story, before asking him further questions. Primarily he was curious as to the man's name, it seemed odd for someone with the name "Archer" to be involved in a tournament of swordsmanship.
Meta Knight walked into the living quarters. He took a stroll through it, keeping mental notes where things were and were people were. Meta Knight walked into the living quarters, seeing the Dark Knight and the man in red talking. Meta Knight started to walk out of the room, when he caught a bit of the conversation.
"I'm curious what a Knight of one who symbolizes the sun is doing with an image that oozes poison?"
Meta Knight stopped, and decided to listen.
"It is... not a proud story. The inhabitants of a land known as Oolacile roused Manus, Father of the Abyss, and the Abyss began to consume their land. I, having earlier discovered the art of Abysswalking and possessing a desire to aid them, set out to defeat him and save their land, I failed and this... corruption that lingers on my person is the foul presence of the Abyss. I have resisted its influence so far, but it gnaws at my mind, as does the knowledge of my failure, I fear I must warn you, it can make me quite dangerous to those around me at times."
This was truly a tragic tale. All heroes suffer a burden, of grief and pain, many cracking and falling to the shadows that they once fought. But a physical corruption, something that drives one towards the dark path no matter how hard they fight. This had to be the most horrible of fates he has ever heard. Meta Knight stepped forward.
"So you accepted this tournament to seek purification of the corruption in your soul?" Meta Knight said.
Archer listened quietly to the knight's tale, his eyebrow twitching response at the occasional hesitation. When it was clear the knight had finished, he closed his eyes and thought on it. A resigned smirk was on his face as his shoulders shrugged. "That's the price of blind heroism: a lifetime of suffering so others can have a moment's peace."
His words were sharp and biting, but his face was reacting more gently to the knight's story. There was no approval or appreciation of what Artorias had given up. But there was still an acknowledgement of his effort. Archer leaned against the wall, watching the pads in case a new contestant happened to stumble through. He quietly remarked, "If you do give in to that corruption, you wouldn't be the first mad beast I fought. Keep your warnings. These kinds of things only happen when you make a big deal over them."
He looked up at the massive creature. Archer thought about questioning his stature, but considering there was a fighter that came up to around his waist, and another that just seemed to be an oversized head with limbs, this man passed as relatively normal. He had another question in mind.
"So you accepted this tournament to seek purification of the corruption in your soul?"
And before he'd gotten the words from his mouth, someone else had asked it.
"Speak of the devil..." None other than the Living Cueball had joined their conversation. Archer looked back at the cloaked creature, admittedly a little curious about what exactly it was. "Welcome to the conversation, Billiard Knight."
"So you accepted this tournament to seek purification of the corruption in your soul?"
Both Archer and another asked this question, the other was a strange being with his body and head all as one piece, and he wore a large mask over his face. Still he had seen stranger things in his travels, and was glad to encounter another contestant.
"Yes, I seek purification of this corruption and restoration of my honor, and what of you? What do you two seek in this tournament?" he asked, then spoke again quickly "Ah my apologies, I have forgotten my manners, what is your name?" he directed this question at the new arrival in the odd mask.
"WHERE," Augus thundered as he materialized in the room, his blind, glowing eyes sweeping the bizarre cast of characters before him, "IS MY SWORD?!"
This had gone on long enough. He had stood by patiently while the others had fought, waiting for some hint of what to do. None were coming, it would seem, which meant is was just about time to do what he did best: Break everything and everyone until he got some answers.
"Oi, you!" he shouted, jabbing a finger at the shadowy, armor-clad figure. "You were fighting earlier, right? Where did you get your blade?!"
The Litany of Litany's Litany had arrived in-system weeks earlier, owing to the properties of black hole-induced, Emperor-guided time travel. It was only now approaching its destination, an unremarkable blue world, its near face blanketed in shadow. A retro burn put the enormous Battle Barge in an awkward, elliptical orbit; another several minutes later put the starship in a circular, geosynchronous orbit. After personally ordering the Navigator to make sure the location was correct, Boreale - satisfied with the work of his crew - made his way to the barge's drop pods. Executing STEEL RAIN with precision unrivaled by any other chapter, the Blood Raven Force Commander managed to land within several kilometers of his target.
After making his way to the Arena on foot, Indrick Boreale was subdued by security before he could execute more than a few dozen "heretics". Stripped of his Chainsword and Bolt Pistol, the Force Commander was escorted politely to the Arena's living quarters, which he was informed in no uncertain terms were heavily guarded by armed infantry.
Reflecting on the good he had done this day, Boreale quickly reached the conclusion that purging the foes of the Imperium had left him famished, and he left for the dining quarters to prepare himself a suitably rage-filled meal.
Meta Knight bowed his head.
"My name is Meta Knight," Meta Knight said, "I was once one of the Star Warriors, we fought many evils till we were overcome by the forces of Nightmare. I have looked many worlds for others, but I have failed to find another survivor."
"I didn't accept the invitation for myself," Meta Knight began, "I entered this tournament to make sure this Supreme Sword does not fall into the hands of Darkness. I do not care if I win, I just wish to make sure the one who gets the sword shall use it for the light. I already have a fine sword, I don't need another."
Meta Knight closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly, "I must apologize. When I saw you on the battlefield, I thought you were a simply a monster, a creation of Nightmare or some other foe to gain the power of the sword. I did not know of your plight, I should not of judged you simply with my eyes. If the time shall come, I will not stand between you and your path to redemption."
Archer and the Billiard Knight were given their answer by the man cloaked in silver and shadow. They had been asked, in turn, what their goal was. The living Billiard Ball, or Meta Knight as it was apparently called, gave its story. Apparently, wherever he came from, things his size were either the norm, or competent enough to be responsible for multiple planets. Worth remembering. He also apologized for misjudging the other knight. That left him as the only one yet to speak. Archer had originally planned not to tell the others of his goal. But then he reconsidered. This is an actual tournament, or so I'm led to believe. Not a fight to the death. I suppose there's nothing wrong with being a little candid this once.
"I entered the tournament to seek--"
"WHERE IS MY SWORD?!"
One of the men he'd seen before, the big apeish one with the strange tattoos--up close, he could now see them for what they were. The gears of a machine. This entrant was a cyborg... or something close to it, anyway. He watched as the bearded, bellecose buffoon jab his conversational partner, demanding answers on where to find a proper blade. Archer did not recall any interaction before he entered this place, but in the back of his head a wriggling thought was telling him that weapons were to be confiscated. It made sense. This wasn't where the fights were supposed to take place. Not the deadly ones, anyway.
Archer gave a big, shit-eating grin at the newest arrival. "You say it's a blade you're looking for?"
In a flash of light, a blade materialized in Archer's hands. Specifically, a pocket knife about the size of his index finger. He cheekily placed it in the big cyborg's hand, still smiling like the biggest doof this side of the Pacific. "Here. Does this satisfy you?"
"Meta Knight closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly, "I must apologize. When I saw you on the battlefield, I thought you were a simply a monster, a creation of Nightmare or some other foe to gain the power of the sword. I did not know of your plight, I should not of judged you simply with my eyes. If the time shall come, I will not stand between you and your path to redemption."
Artorias was somewhat taken aback by that response, "Thank you, you are a far more noble soul than I would have expected, I hope you succeed in your search. No apology is needed however, I am quite aware of my..."
Before he could continue, or before Archer could answer his question a large shirtless man burst into the room, yelling furiously about his sword, even jabbing Artorias in the chest with a finger and bellowing at him. Before he could answer that it was a copy of him that had fought before, or that their swords were confiscated while they were not in the arena Archer responded by generating a small knife, and handing it to the man, obviously mocking him. Artorias could not help but laugh heartily at the jest.
As Youmu raised her sword to attack the dummy again, she heard someone shouting outside. Back in the entrance room with all the strange machines, she found its source - a large man, covered in tattoos, wondering about where he could get a blade from. In response, the white-haired man created a small knife out of nowhere. Rather than staring at the large man to see his reaction, she looked more intently at the other. How is he able to create things like that out of nowhere? she wondered.
Looking down, she saw the caped figure bowing to Artorias, and quickly looked away again. She had no desire to see those eyes again right away.
Orange was a little surprised they had honest to god katanas in this damn room, all he saw were wooden swords. The girl with what looked like a pet HE might've had seemed to be good with a katana, and fast. Fast didn't mean much to Orange however, as they tended to be glass cannons.
He was woken out of his constant smacking of a dummy by the yelling of another tall person, this one seemed to have tattoos. And anger. Orange laughed at his new weapon, quite a mighty weapon for one such as he! Still, the Archer could summon weapons. He could probably take out several of the contestants right now if he really wanted to. All but Orange, his fire spells would make quick work of him.
Sephiroth appeared again, this time to the sound of relative silence compared to the stadium. Leaning against a doorway out of sight of the rest, arms crossed, he listened to the others discuss their reasons for being at this tournament. Unfortunately, he spied none of his hopeful opponents. All cowards or they all thought him far from reach, how wrong they were. And just as he had in the stadium, the Ape appeared and roared his displeasure at the fact that he had lost his sword, the fool. Were he worthy of it, he would possess the ability to call it forth...Just as the Man-in-Red, calling himself Archer, pulled a knife from the air.
"What a nice trick,"He said as he began clapping his hands, while still leaning against the doorway, voice dripping with sarcasm and boredom,"I'd be perfectly willing to teach you how to call forth weapons worthy of being wielded in this tournament, were I to think you worthy, Mortal. And such a curious name to be sure, Archer. Not something that inspires any faith in your abilities."
Zipping forward at a speed that would strain most eyes, he grabbed the knife out of the Ape's hand and squeezed lightly. The weapon broke apart in a sparkling rainbow of prisms and magic.
The man snorted in derision,"And of course, this was not durable enough. Typical mortal magic. None of it lasts...A pity to be sure." His eyes told a different tale however, madness and laughter glinted within his cyan cat-like pupils.
"You may call me the One-Winged Angel, since we are giving out names. That is more than you pitiful excuses deserve as it is..."
If the blue knight and teal-haired boy had given Youmu problems before, then this...one-winged angel had left her paralysed. Big, fast and strong - having even two of those would be problematic, but this man went beyond that. She quickly shook her head, as if her fear of him was a physical object she could just shake off. Backing away, she tripped over the blue-caped knight, falling to the ground. Her fears grew even stronger - there was no way that anyone hadn't noticed that.
Archer's mocking smile only grew as the newest arrival burst onto the scene. With all the flamboyance of a comic book villain this man took his knife and cracked it in his fist. Archer didn't have the heart to tell him the weapons could dissipate as he willed him. Still, whoever this man was, he seemed to have the snark to rival the best of them. Archer was certainly pleased. He noticed the girl, Youmu, seemed particularly frightened of this man. The aura coming off of him was... unsettling. Wrong, even. Archer decided to clear a little of the air. Nothing like open mockery to deflate intimidation.
"Congratulations, your masterful detective skills have deduced the topic of our conversation. I think you misspoke though; we're giving our names, not the titles of our fanfiction."
"Still," he added, bowing his head and continuing to smirk. "it's refreshing to know who the villain is from the start. Maybe you have a more subtle name to share, as well? Something like The Dread Lord Lucifer, or Dick Dastardly?"
Orange was, naturally, annoyed with the arrogance of this new person. Another big, strong guy, among big strong guys. His rant about mortals and their magics being inferior also struck a cord, Orange could take down whole Castles himself with nothing but his magic.
"An androgynous punk who calls himself an angel. I bet your magic couldn't hold a candle to my fire magic!" Orange noticed the girl fall, and so he helped her back up;
"No need to fear him, I've seen you attack that dummy, I bet he'll fall within seconds against you." Orange smiled underneath his helmet.
Artorias looked down at the girl, and extended a hand to help her to her feet, but the Orange knight beat him to helping her up, the Orange warrior seemed familiar somehow. He looked at the self proclaimed "one winged angel" already he disliked the man, a true warrior had no need to boast of his abilities, or to insult his foes. The presence of the man was unsettling as well, in some ways it reminded him of the dark magics he had encountered in New Londo and Oolacile. Still Archer's mockery brought a grin to his face.
Turning back towards the girl he asked "Are you alright? You should not lose your composure so easily you know."
Youmu looked at Artorias and the orange knight, and nodded at them both. "I'm fine," she said. "Just a little shaken, is all..." And I can't let that happen again, she thought. Not once we start fighting. She left the room and went past the other two rooms, into a corridor filled with a large number of doors. None of them seemed to open, but they all had a plaque with two blank lines on the front...
Even Meta Knight smiled a bit as the Great Ape was given a butter knife (not that anyone saw it). Before the Ape could respond, mocking clapping came from the doorway. The Man In Black mocked the meager powers, than moved forward quicker than most eyes could follow and broke the butter knife apart.
If Meta Knight and this man had their swords, he would of taken on this "man" right there. Artorias may be dripping liquid corruption with every step he took, this "One Wing Angel" was so far beyond any being he has even seen in just the pure soullessness he vibrated. Nightmare himself was a far better and honorable man than this creature.
Before Meta Knight could say a word, he felt something tug on his cloak, only to see the girl from before trip and fall down, backing away from the Man in Black. Meta Knight couldn't blame anyone for trying to keep far away from that creature.
Meta Knight was about to lend a hand of help, but the Orange Knight helped her up. Meta Knight looked at the One Winged Angel.
"You claim to be an angel, but I can see nothing heavenly in you. You say your above us all, yet I am sure each and every other person in this room is a better being than you. I have spent my entire life fighting monsters from beyond the worst dreams, yet your the single most vile creature I have ever laid my eyes on my life, a bleak hole were good and honor go to die. I swear, even if I must lay my life down to do it, I will stop you getting the Supreme Sword."
"it's refreshing to know who the villain is from the start. Maybe you have a more subtle name to share, as well? Something like The Dread Lord Lucifer, or Dick Dastardly?"
"I have no knowledge of these individuals, Archer. Perhaps they are friends of yours? It is a god's duty to choose the name and title he is to be known by, while the true name is lost to the ages. Sacrifices such as these are but the tip of the iceberg that must be made. Perhaps I will allow you my name when you fall in the arena. But that is talk for another time."
"An androgynous punk who calls himself an angel. I bet your magic couldn't hold a candle to my fire magic!"
"Why hold a candle when I could throw an inferno, Gnome? Your magic is but a mild inconvenience, a parlour trick, if you will, or do you need to be reminded of the holographic match that ended with your death barely minutes ago? A match rather one-sided I might add. In any case, have any of you seen a man with a sword much akin to this Giant's slung across his back? Hair spiked to an outrageous degree and of the lighter colors? He and I continue to have unfinished business..."
Augus fell silent for a moment, staring blankly at the dagger the man in red had placed in his hand. The odd, unexpected gesture, if not enough to quell the demigod's anger, was certainly enough to distract him. He had to admit, he wasn't quite sure how to react to all this; none of his foes had ever mocked him by handing him a weapon.
...Clearly he wasn't in the company of particularly sane individuals.
"Heh." Allowing himself a small chuckle, Augus managed to bring his voice down to a more appropriate volume. "I'm going to look forward to facing you in the ring, whelp," he said, his tone a bizarre mixture of excited and annoyed. "And maybe, if I decide I like you, I'll show you what a real sword actually looks like."
"I'd be perfectly willing to teach you how to call forth weapons worthy of being wielded in this tournament, were I to think you worthy, Mortal. And such a curious name to be sure, Archer. Not something that inspires any faith in your abilities."
The demigod sensed the hand flashing forward, but he did nothing to prevent the appendage from grasping the knife. He had no need for such a puny blade, after all; what did he care if this brat wanted it?
"You may call me the One-Winged Angel, since we are giving out names. That is more than you pitiful excuses deserve as it is..."
...And he was apparently more full of himself than Wyzen was. Fantastic.
"Still, it's refreshing to know who the villain is from the start. Maybe you have a more subtle name to share, as well? Something like The Dread Lord Lucifer, or Dick Dastardly?"
That last remark, on the other hand, managed to earn some approval. Cracking a grin and crossing his arm, Augus let out a harsh roar of laughter, before interjecting his own thoughts into the mix. "Names? Titles? Ha, what do either of those matter between beings such as us!? I could call myself God, if I so wished, but what would that accomplish? If you think yourself so much better than others, Brat," Augus continued, rounding on the arrogant one, "then prove it with your fists! Only fools hide behind words and boasts!"
Orange watched the girl, Youmu, retreat into the hall, turning back to the egotistical man woman.
"Why hold a candle when I could throw an inferno, Gnome? Your magic is but a mild inconvenience, a parlour trick, if you will, or do you need to be reminded of the holographic match that ended with your death barely minutes ago? A match rather one-sided I might add.
Orange's eyes widened, his fists clenching. He grew an orange aura of heat, fireballs appearing in both hands,
"WHAT?! Are you insane, as well as stupid? Whatever 'hologram' you've seen must be imaginary, and my 'tricks' have ended more lives than you've ever met! I've killed more powerful delusional 'gods' than you with nothing more than a meat tenderizer! Show me your mettle in the sparring ring, if you've any bark to your bite!"
Archer placed a hand on top of the orange gnome's helmet. "Slow down there, little guy. If you intend to charge to your death, I'd appreciate it if you waited until the tournament started. Right now all this guy's doing is baiting you. Pretty boy," he said now directing his attention to the One-Winged Angel. "just wants you in the ring so he can use cut you to shreds. You heard what he said, right? 'teaching us how to call forth worthy weapons'? I'm willing to bet he knows the same trick as me."
He stepped forward, standing eye to eye with the silver-haired man. They were of just about equal stature and build, one in black and the other red. "As for you, pretty boy, nobody like that has shown up. If you chased all this way for your man crush, I think you might be a little disappointed. But if you'd like to take out some of that aggression, I suppose I'll give you the opportunity. Considering we're on... slightly more even ground."
Stepping in for another's safety... an enemy, even. If Rin could see me now... Well, come to think of it, I guess we'd be about even now.
"Interested, Mr. Tall Dark And Androgynous?"
Artorias stood and watched as the others made various pointed remarks to the "One Winged Angel" he considered adding his own to the pile, though it was hardly necessary. Still the man's arrogance irritated him, and he could feel the corruption trying to sour his mood further, pushing him to lash out at him, but he pushed it aside, it would not do to fight here.
He stepped forward and placed a hand on Archer's shoulder, "There is no need for this, you said yourself he is baiting us, if you must fight then I am certain you can reserve the arena to spar, besides I would like to get to explore these quarters before you destroy them," he said the last part with an air of humor.
He then turned towards the "angel", "You claim to be a god, I have fought under and against gods, you remind me more of something else."
"Considering we're on... slightly more even ground."
This managed to make Orange even more angry, the aura turning to pure flame;
"Even terms?! I can more than handle this bastard! Your damn trick is about as useful as Grey Knight, I can more than hold my own!" He calmed down, ever so slightly, looking around him. The arrogant half angel, the smart ass in red, and the loud giant obsessed with his weapon.
"I say we have a four way duel, like my friends always had when we rescued a princess. It's the best way to see who's the best, or deserves something the most."