:sleepytime: :peek:
All right! Let's see how this goes. (I'm only using the color-coding to emphasize certain things in the set-up. You don't have to color-code your own posts.)
This is set in a large mountain range where legends abound. There is a city, at the highest altitude that a city can reasonably reach, that is the closest reasonable means to get to an ancient arena that is tucked into the mountains themselves. The path there isn't too long but the weather can change suddenly, even blizzards. How long the changes last can vary. There is also a high potential for altitude sickness but deal with that how you want. You can presume that you arrived at the mountain range early, in order to acclimate, or that you live here. There is a hospital in the city and there is a small airport. (I'm not certain how legitimate that is in reality but we'll just say that's the case anyway.)
The tournament has been promoted for several weeks, far and wide, so preparations have been made and various degrees of excitement can be found. The winner of the tournament gets a special, undisclosed gift, but prior winners have gotten some amazing things and the gift can alter, depending on what the winner wanted it to be (though this is no guarantee it will be exactly what they were after.) This particular mountain range has humans and furries living in general co-existance but, if you come from somewhere else in the world, that doesn't have to be the case for where your character hails from. Feel free to have human characters too (as NPCs or your main character.) The RulesYou may use any fighting methods you like, including magic (but be reasonable and put some limitation on what you can do. I leave that up to your discretion.) The goal is not to kill your opponent but exhaust them. You want to outlast them and make them concede. If neither can continue fighting, then it is a draw. Those two fighters will be assigned to fight different opponents. If the last match is a draw, then there must be a rematch later. Once we have enough people, I'll make a sort of progress list of who is going to fight who and where they will progress from there. Characters who join later on can be added in too. There will just be fewer contestants by that point, is all. Here's an example:
Phyllis -----\___Winner fights________\
Winslow---/ \_______Winner fights_____
/ \
Tandem ---\____Winner fights______ / \
Flute ------/ \________Winner of Tournament
/
Baxter------\___Winner fights________\ /
Orion-------/ \_______Winner fights_____/
/
Silky--------\____Winner fights______ /
Mink--------/
During a fight, observe the following. Not doing so earns disqualification. There will be at least two NPC referees and other players can join to just be referees, if they'd like, or create other NPC referees. The NPC referees can be used by all other players, to ICly point out various things, but don't abuse this for a free win. If there is a disagreement between two players, regarding a match, we will handle it OOC. Incidentally, anyone who would like to join this thread can also be a newscaster, a reporter, a medic, a friend who is there for support, a fan of a particular fighter, or anything else they would like to be. Just realize that the matches are the focus of the RP, so these might be better as secondary characters.
The list of known NPC referees (currently):
Vivian - a large, brawny female wolf
Martin - a tall, bulky male human
Amelia - a trim female human
Douglas - an average looking male moose
There will be two referees at any match. There can, of course, be unnamed referees. But I thought this might make it a bit easier.
Things that the referees will be watching for:
1.) No aiming for the head. Serious injury to the face is included in that ruling (eyes being gouged out, for instance.)
2.) No aiming for anyone's groin or breasts. It's a weakness but it's also a cheap shot.
3.) No aiming for the vital spots with the intent of doing serious, lasting injury to them. Precise blows that knock-out an opponent are okay, if you don't go overboard with it (no rupturing and such.) The goal is not to kill or maim but to wear down.
It is also possible for an attack that was intended for another part of the body to hit one of the areas that is off-limits. But the referee will most likely rule this as a mistake and give both opponents five or so minutes of recovery. If that happens three or more times, the match will be called a draw (even if it wasn't intentional.)
Basically, blood can be spilled, particularly if you have a sharp weapon, and pain is expected.The opponent simply needs to be alive and not significantly altered or needing life-support at the end of it.
Now, here is THE most important thing of all. The person who does the attack does NOT decide if it lands! For this reason, make your attacks open-ended. Here is an example:
Phyllis leaps at Winslow and lifts her arm. With great force, she rakes her claws downward, aiming for his back.
Aiming, trying, attempting, intending to... these are words you want to use. It makes everything flow better. In this case, you can possibly even get away with "raked her claws across his back and leaped aside, before seeing if she had actually done any damage to the sprightly kangaroo." Or something similar. The point is that the other player decides how the attack affected them; whether they got out of the way, suffered only some of the damage, or took the entire hit.
Here is what I don't want to see.
Phyllis slashed Winslow with her claws, hard enough to make him cry! She smiled at the red trails of blood all over his back.
Let's face it. Even if you wrote that, Winslow still might ignore you because he wanted to do it differently. The point is, Winslow decides how he reacts, how his body looks after the attack, and how it has affected him. And when Winslow kicks at Phyllis, she can decide if the kick landed exactly where he intended or if she moved just fast enough to be kicked in the leg, instead of the side (or to not get hit at all.)
Mind you, someone has to get hit at some point. So don't dodge everything thrown at you. Just try to be reasonable and have fun.
Also, please use correct grammar and punctuation. In a fighting RP, it is perhaps even MORE important to know what is going on.
For the people who have lost a match, there is a break-room (so to speak) where they can refresh and relax. They can also watch the following matches or decide to explore the area. The building is expansive and there are hidden secrets, if you want to uncover some. (However, you have to make up the secrets yourself. Nothing involving match-rigging please.) If you want to continue with a side-story, it might be best to create another thread and link it back to this one (or something like that.)Here is a somewhat decent drawing of my characters. 
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/42178016/
Jibe is a fluffy white cat, possibly part Angora or Persian, with one blue eye and one golden eye, wearing a brown trench-coat and a dark brown bowler derby. He is ill-natured and aggressive on principal but doesn't usually provoke outright fights. He tends to have a very skeptical outlook. For some bizarre reason, he is close friends with Jester.
Jester is a really colorful Japanese Bobtail. He's a ginger tabby with a large white patch of fur covering most of his round face. He also has white patches on his hands, his feet, and the tip of his tail. He has enormous, round, black eyes. His clothing involves bold (not pastel) variations of teal, yellow, white, and bright orange-red. He is typically jolly but he's not as goofy as he seems.IC:A human bartender stood behind his bar, cleaning one of the many glasses. He glanced over at his only patron. It was still quite early, which explained the lack of customers, but the quietness of that one customer was starting to weight heavily on him.
"So, you think you're gonna win the arena, kid?" the bartender asked.
Of course, she wasn't a kid. He had checked her ID before letting the youthful looking wolf buy a drink. But the word slipped out of his mouth before he had realized it. It was the pig-tails, he supposed.
The wolf paused in nursing her glass of vodka and arched an eyebrow at the bartender's comment.
"What?" the wolf asked.
"You know. The big tournament," the bartender replied.
"What makes you think I'm going to some tournament?" the wolf asked, "I'm just here for a drink!"
The bartender stared at the large two-handed sword slung across the wolf's back. It was nearly twice as big as either of them.
"Oh, that! Heh heh... that's just a model."
The wolf pulled it off her back and held it out, handle first, towards the bartender. The man grasped it warily and found it light as cardboard! Then he studied it a bit closer and realized it was cardboard. Maybe he shouldn't have such low lighting in his bar.
---The massive, beige walls of stone surrounding the arena had lasted centuries, with very few chinks in its structure. The mountain cave that surrounded it further helped elude the light of day.
For this reason, the old man seated at his seemingly incongruous desk was grateful for the thousands upon thousands of lit torches that lined the rooms and halls of the 'temple' (for lack of a better term or archaeological clues to what it had really been built for.) Still, he felt grouchy. They were always such a pain to keep going. He turned in his chair and his shoe came in contact with something small and furry near his chair.
Jester blinked and looked over his shoulder. He had been playing solitaire for ages. That he had been cheating at it too had not been lost on the old man, who had little else to watch just then.
"Yeees?" Jester asked.
He was grinning, as usual, but he was showing as many teeth as possible because he was annoyed. Even the trill in his high-pitched voice made this abundantly clear.
"Jibe isn't back yet. Go get him. And light any of the torches that have burned out on the way," the old man answered.
Jester sulked.
"Always with the torches! The torches..."
"You have a fire spell," the old man answered, "So why waste the fuel when we have you?"
"Hey, mine uses fuel too," Jester replied, "Internal fuel, thank you, and I'm already hungry enough as it is."
He stood up as the old man shrugged. He knew the old man didn't care. The old man, Olav, was about as generally unpleasant as Jibe. This made sense, given that he had raised Jibe for a handful of years.
The old man explained, "You're pudgy enough, I think you'll survive before you find him. So light 'em fast and we'll eat when you return."
Jester scooped the cards up into a pile and dumped them into the old man's lap. The old man glowered at this but began sorting them into a proper stack, as he intended to use them while Jester was gone. It was better than pouring over the few entry forms, which sat on his desk, that they had acquired thus far. A good thing the weather was mild at the moment too. Jester was the only truly reliable source of heat in the entire cave-system building.
"Fine! Just remember, I like my tuna extremely well done," Jester said.
Then he skipped away, the little bells that served as the buttons on his sleeves jingling merrily. He conjured a small chunk of brick into his paws as he went, fingering it thoughtfully and wondering if he should try making some echoes in the emptier chambers.
