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Palom (Final Fantasy IV) |
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A young boy from Mysidia, Palom is an incredibly anno...erm, talented young mage. With powerful spells such as Flare, Quake, Death, Break, Drain and even Meteo (If he can manage to stay awake through the time it takes to cast it!), he's a force to be reckoned with...if he isn't crushed before he's given a chance, due to his mediocre speed and low durability... |
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Ramus can take comfort in one fact, going into this fight. He's older, wiser, and more durable than his opponent. This is worth noting because this is almost NEVER the case for the greedy fat kid from Burg. Still, Ramus is held back here by the fact that his non-HP stats, um... suck. Utterly. Even if you scale him, the odds of Ramus knocking Palom out with his one-hit physical before getting Nuked out of the arena in every sense of the word are pretty minimal. Which leaves Ramus to his negotitiation skills if he wants a chance at this one... |
Pipe Dreamer Palom smirked. "Flare!" Nuclear energy converged upon his target, enveloping it with deafening explosions. As the hapless victim was heated to fantastic tempratures, everything in its immediate vincinity was incinerated beyond recognition. Smirk still on his face, Palom took a swig of Elixir. The RPGDL Arena shall be the site of a miniature nuclear holacaust the next day, and his opponent - poor, fat, four-eyed Ramus - was to be the center of it. Had Palom's voice been deep enough, he would have let out a Laugh of Pure Evil. Palom's inner gloating was interrupted by a knock at the door. The person at the other side happened to be none other than the future receipent of his Flare spell. Scowling in displeasure, Palom nonetheless invited Ramus in. "I just came by to wish you good luck on the match tomorrow," Ramus said somewhat breathlessly, his face a picture of innocence. "And I wanted to give you this" - he reached into his pocket and took out a ring - "it's a good luck charm. Don't wear it until you're in the arena, or you won't get by the illegal equipment check." Palom examined the ring suspiciously after the boy from Burg left. It seemed ordinary enough, but Palom wasn't nearly as naive as to believe that his opponent would actually give him a piece of equipment "just for good luck." Shaking his head, he stuffed the ring into his pocket and decided that he'd show Ramus - there's no reason he won't be able to win, ring or no ring! *** Ramus's face was still a picture of innocence when he stood at his end of the arena awaiting his opponent to arrive, but deep inside his evil grin could rival Palom's. A few minutes more - and he'd show that arrogant little boy what a few business contacts in other RPG universes could do. The crowds it would draw to his store - the silver he'd pull in just selling those worthless trinkets - it was all Ramus could do to not break out in evil laughter. It wasn't Palom who appeared at the other end of the Arena, though. It was yellowish brown, it wore nothing but a metallic helmet, and his side of the HP counter read 1. It was Jogurt. Ramus smiled now. That little brat really did fall for it and put on that Jogurt Ring. The poor thing didn't even know that he was without magic, without stats, without equipment. Ramus stepped forward, prepared to end the apprentice-cum-cute-mascot's life with one stab of his knife... Except the crowd didn't think so. Having seen Jogurt's win in the Ultimate Pwnage match, having seen Jogurt single-handedly dispatch Ryu5 in the Contest of Champions - those good-hearted folk couldn't bear to see Ramus go up against such a god. Ramus was suddenly the target of half a dozen warp spells. When Ramus found his way back to the RPGDL arena, that season's Light champion had already been crowned. Palom: 16 Meeplelard@hotmail.com
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