::written in scratchy lettering on the board::
To those that it concerns:
I will be issuing a challenge in all three sports.
As for Fists, I am challenging Koyliak for possession of MoonBeryl.
Bran
The Triple Challenge: Part 2, MoonBeryl
Moderator: Staff
Challenge
We're going to be having this challenge in the RDI tonight, and right now. (11:15 EST). See you there if you can make it.
Chattin' with MoonBeryl
Bran sat out behind the Temple of Gorellik which was just outside the RhyDin City walls, listening to a stream wash by. He was sitting cross-legged with Moonberyl in the palm of one of his clawed hands. He had heard that the Opals would talk to their holder, but ever since Koyliak threw MoonBeryl at him last night, he had not heard anything. The Opal did seem to recognize him as its new master, though. Bran tested it by lightly throwing the Opal away from him, and using its Levitate power, it circled back in a lazy arc towards his scaly hand again. Maybe he should be the one to talk to him, her, or it.
“Hello, MoonBeryl”.
Nothing.
“Uh . . . pardon me, Missster Beryl, sssir?”
Nothing.
“HEY MOONBERYL!”
Nothing.
Cupping his hands around it, he shouted into the hole between his two thumbs.
“HAAALLLOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOONBERUHHHHHHHL!!!!”
Quickly he held the Opal up to his earhole, but still there was no sound.
A bit disappointed, he instead tried to use the famed abilities that came with possession of the Opal. Pointing his fingers at various rocks along the stream, he amused himself by levitating them using the Opal’s minor power. This became rather boring quickly though, and Bran instead focused on what his main desire in getting MoonBeryl was, the possibility of flying.
“Alright, MoonBeryl, I want you to use FeatherTouch to help me fly over to that tree”, he said, pointing at an apple tree not to far away. “Here we go!” taking a few steps backwards to get a running start, he charged towards the tree and leapt into the air as hard as he could.
“FEATHERTOOOOUCH!” he yelled out, like as if verbally calling it out would make it work better.
Suddenly Bran felt himself becoming much lighter, and he was floating upwards into the air. Unfortunately for him, lizardmen do not have a keen sense of aerodynamics, and he found himself pitching forward, doing a few awkward mid-air somersaults before crashing into the side of the tree headfirst. As he flopped to the ground, he began to be pelted by a cascade of apples that he had dislodged with his clumsy attempt at flight. Yowling, he tried to cover his head as best as he could.
“Hello, MoonBeryl”.
Nothing.
“Uh . . . pardon me, Missster Beryl, sssir?”
Nothing.
“HEY MOONBERYL!”
Nothing.
Cupping his hands around it, he shouted into the hole between his two thumbs.
“HAAALLLOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOONBERUHHHHHHHL!!!!”
Quickly he held the Opal up to his earhole, but still there was no sound.
A bit disappointed, he instead tried to use the famed abilities that came with possession of the Opal. Pointing his fingers at various rocks along the stream, he amused himself by levitating them using the Opal’s minor power. This became rather boring quickly though, and Bran instead focused on what his main desire in getting MoonBeryl was, the possibility of flying.
“Alright, MoonBeryl, I want you to use FeatherTouch to help me fly over to that tree”, he said, pointing at an apple tree not to far away. “Here we go!” taking a few steps backwards to get a running start, he charged towards the tree and leapt into the air as hard as he could.
“FEATHERTOOOOUCH!” he yelled out, like as if verbally calling it out would make it work better.
Suddenly Bran felt himself becoming much lighter, and he was floating upwards into the air. Unfortunately for him, lizardmen do not have a keen sense of aerodynamics, and he found himself pitching forward, doing a few awkward mid-air somersaults before crashing into the side of the tree headfirst. As he flopped to the ground, he began to be pelted by a cascade of apples that he had dislodged with his clumsy attempt at flight. Yowling, he tried to cover his head as best as he could.
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