"And what an incredible series of fights we've had today!" Tarlen cries out above the roar of the crowd as Kasei and Orpheous each depart from the arena. "And it promises to only get more and more unbelievable! For now, it is my great pleasure to start up the fifth match of this first round of the Grand Tournament!"

This time, the Rito doesn't even wait for the challengers to emerge before soaring upward. "This one's been spoken of as perhaps the most anticipated fight of this round - quite astounding, considering all that we've already seen, isn't it?!" The crowd cheers in agreement with the airborne announcer's words. "But let's not mince anymore words - straight to the fighters' names!

"Coming from the right, please welcome the Hylian Nomad, Blank Fireside!" Tarlen waves an arm in that direction in between flaps, then moves his gaze over to the left side. "And his opponent! Another Hylian, this time the Youthful Mage Tayro Wind!" The two warriors stride out, and Tarlen is quick to call "Fighters! Begin when ready!!!"

He had felt so confident in himself before. Slashing his way to victory seemed a simple task, as he had proven to himself time and time again that there were few capable of withstanding his swords - wooden and weak as they were. But he had forgotten that the same went for the other adventurers present at the tourney. Each and every fighter was regarded as the best of the best in Hyrule. Alongside them, Blank was only an equal, if not a lesser warrior altogether. Why had he signed up for this tournament, then? Well, it was the confidence he held before realizing who he would be battling against that was to blame.

Before him stood the boy. Tayro Wind, as he went by. Blank knew him well, better than he knew most of the other adventurers, for some off reason. Despite being nearly a decade the youth's senior, the same spirit of adventure existed in both Tayro and Blank. The nomad was not normally blessed with reason to smile, and reading Tayro's name next to his on the tournament sheet did not add to his happiness. He had decided to take a walk, bewildered and fearing the discomfort of a battle against a friend. Sure, he had battled friends lots of times! But never for glory, reward and to entertain others. He felt like a friendship with Tayro was worthless on such a day, as the two would soon be going all out.

There he stood, perhaps thinking the same thoughts as Blank. The two Hylians were very apt in each's area of combat expertise. Tayro was strongly magical, being a scholar. Blank was a powerful physical tank, being a grunt. But you already know all of this. Why else would this battle be so exciting and crowd-pleasing? The best of both worlds - physical and magical - duking it out for glory, and a shot at the title of Champion.

“Tayro... I'm sorry...” he whispered to no one in particular, knowing that the boy could not hear the pained expression.

He sprang into action as Tarlen's voice was lost among the sea of cheering audience members. The grunt stepped forward a few paces, making it obvious that he was quite unsure about what he was doing. Then, with a chaotic grin, he bent low and almost leaped at his opponent. Drawing in close, the swords appeared in his hands. Blank's deadly twin blades, which had been replaced countless times due to wear and stain, were nothing special. In fact, they were the most basic of material, consisting only of cheap Deku Wood. But they had killed, and despite their composition, were great for one-on-one combat. Still shifting nervously, but not showing it lest he lose the composure he had just gained, Blank swung at Tayro in a symmetrical fashion with both swords. The sharp wooden blades curved towards the boy, and suddenly Blank remembered that sword hits were sure to cause bleeding. Blank adjusted his wrist so that if impact occurred, only the flats of the blades would batter at the mage's skin. Cut's as strong as a bruise, but cuts could very well be lethal, he thought to himself as he attacked.

Reluctant, the boy advanced forwards to the podium. He looked onwards at his opponent. Yes, there was no mistake at the billboard when he saw it. Blank Fireside was to be his opponent, a man nine years the mage apprentice's elder, and one of few adventures he dared call a friend... or even a big brother - role himself portrayed to the children of the Hyrulian Orphanage, who no doubt would be watching the battle. He looked to the side, to the stands where some of the competitors and an incredible amount of people stood. In the midst of the people, accompanied with their little brother, Mike, who was waving a wooden sword wildly and crying out the orphan's name, was Emily smiling at him, giving him a thumbs up. Besides her was an item trademarked to the young minstrel - a beautiful wooden violin - though that wood seemed quite rare - with a crystal on top, which seemed to resonate the sound produced by that melodical instrument. So she plans on continuing this... but... is it any fair? - he thought to himself, looking back at his opponent. Yes... if Tayro would be going ahead with this, his "big brother" would definitely be in danger. True that there would be clerics around but... it was never pleasant to die, at least by what he saw by Jett's looks - a fellow mage from an underground organization he belonged. Remembering the Human, he wondered if any Apostle would be watching the fight, but quickly discarded the idea - they were probably busy with many affairs rather than relaxing to a tournament. Well, there's no turning back now - he concluded.

Looking forward at his opponent with a heavily forced grin - though he hoped it wouldn't show much, as he didn't want the Nomad to hold back - the boy heard the Rito announcer making the fight's presentations, the crowd booming. Just a few moments ago, Tarlen's voice sounded exciting, boosting one's spirits yet now was more of a nuisance than anything. Upon hearing both's names, the boy did as he was instructed to him by the Orphanage maids: bowing down to his opponent. "Good luck Blank. May the best one win." - the boy said, drawing his staff forward, his faked grin still showing, probably more apparent than what he wanted. This battle was too one-sided for the Nomad, and the youth knew it well - the man had much more life experience due to age, and his strength was unparalleled to the Hylian's knowledge. He'd have lost before his spells could have done anything, unfortunately, and that's exactly what couldn't happen. Just a few moments now, and this place would be filled with his 'family', and he couldn't even dare disappoint them. And for that, he had to win this fight, no matter what the odds. He had to spell-ground the Nomad before it was too late... yet... wouldn't that ruin the Nomad's desire to win this tournament? He felt bad also thinking of defeating Blank, who, like other adventurers were Tayro's new family... but he had to make a decision, and he had to make it fast, before it was too late - should he give his best to win to give some hope to his 'young family'... or should he let Blank win?

Suddenly, he hears a certain comment as the fight begins, definitely amplified by some spell... yet the voice was not the Rito's. Rather, someone he knew. "And Blank Fireside takes off to strike! Our young hero must move fast in order to counter this villain's attempts! Let us all cheer for Tayro!" - he hears. A grin, this time a real one. Emily had finally mastered the voice amplifying spell. Although the boy didn't look, this proved to be true - with two fingers touching her throat, the female Hylian voiced out her own opinions besides Mike, who was yelling out of his lungs his support for the junior mage. Thanks guys... I now know what to do. - he concluded - I'm sorry Blank, but I have to win this.

Immediately did the youngster react, slowing time down considerably as he spun his staff counter-clockwise. Yes, he had to start this with a spell - no way would he win without his magical prowess. A light blue circle appeared on thin air, a thin gale forming around the mage. Still holding his staff, the boy drew on the glowing glyph his usual 5-pointed star, who started to glow as well - the tip of his Deku Staff working as a pencil, the air being the youth's canvas. Placing the tip of the staff on the center, he started focusing his inner energies through the staff, who started to possess a peculiar magical aura, to the glyph, which started glowing brightly. At this moment, on the back of the youth's cloak, a peculiar S-shaped symbol with paired with an arrow and a circle started glowing white as well, the winds intensifying. There was no time for distractions now - he knew well what to do. Blank, like himself, was Hylian, so he knew well what their common weakness was. "Elemental Burst! Shadow!" - he yelled, as the staff was removed from the circle... and then thrusted right into the middle, thus making the rune vibrate, and twist itself creating a sphere of light blue energy, which started to fill itself with dark thoughts and fears - the ones that haunted the youth just a few moments ago. Readied, time resumed normally as the dark energy ball was sent towards the Nomad.

Blank:
STR – 6; DEF – 17; AGI – 4; INT – 4; SPL – 1; SPL – 11; HP – 51
Tayro:
STR – 1; DEF – 12; AGI – 3; INT – 6; SPI – 3; SPL – 21; HP – 53

"And it has begun!" Tarlen cries out as Blank darts forward, dual swords swinging outward with a speed that would seem very out of place if the crowd was aware of the hesitation present with the Nomad's mind. Of course, they aren't aware of it, so their delighted screams are all that reaches the fighters' ears. Yet even though that hesitation is indeed present, his twin swords are quick and accurate, never faltering as the Deku blades slam their blunt edges right into the lad (17+4[Roll+AGI] vs. 13+3[DEF+AGI]). Tayro is forced backwards, having taken a mighty 22 DMG.

But the young Mage is almost just as quick as Blank, and even as the Grunt had been charging forward his own retaliation has been prepared. The Shadow Elemental Burst launches outward even as the youth is struck, and Blank finds that trying to defend while in midswing is certainly a difficult task. The full force of Tayro's Burst hits him square in the chest, launching him back through the air (6+1[Roll+SPI] vs. 15) and stealing away a heavy 21 HP from the Hylian.

"Magic and brawn have clashed head on!" Tarlen calls out. "And it looks like so far, they're both on even ground! But which one will give in first?!"

Blank: 30 HP, 11 SPL
Tayro: 31 HP, 15 SPL

As the flat blades of Blank's Deku swords made their marks, the Hylian prepared to swing away and gain some distance between the two combatants.

A hooded man stood glaring at the two fighters, propping himself up on an staff that looked like it could have belonged to someone's great-grandfather. He stood alongside the temporary bleachers that had been set up for onlookers, choosing not to mingle with the many different kinds of spectators. The man's dark cloak shined in the blazing sunlight, and standing outside under such circumstances would exhaust most people. But this man had come to see this fight, and see it he would. He was particularly interested in battles one, two, three, five and the newly decided eighth battle, featuring two late-entry adventurers.

The onlooker gazed interestingly at the two fighters. S amazed by the nomad's great physical maneuvers, and was beginning to doubt that the mage would stand a chance.

That is, until he caught sight of Tayro's shadowy spell. As Blank pivoted on his left heel to leap away from the boy, the Elemental Burst exploded with a terrifying display of shadow magic. Blank felt a sudden chill come to the back of his neck, and his hairs stood on end. No! Not a Shadow attack! he screamed inside his head, knowing very well that this attack would grant him a world of hurt due to his racial intolerance to the element of nightmares. It felt as though hundreds of clawing, black fingers were grabbing him by the the back of his jerkin and pulling him into a spinning void of emptiness. The force of the attack knocked his sight out for a moment, and this was one of the most horrible catastrophes he had experienced in ages. He could see death, pillage and war in his own memories, seemingly unlocked by the boy's horrible attack.

He lay on the ground as the frightening shroud of shadows drifted helplessly into the hot sunlight and were lost. Blank twitched like a dieing insect, beads of sweat forming all over his body. He almost felt like vomiting, but was able to force down the repulsive need. Sitting up, he continued to twitch visibly. The nomad placed a palm on the arena floor and exerted a fair amount of energy just launching himself back to his feet. Bent low, he panted and coughed. Shadow was indeed a strange element, and it appeared to have taken a toll on Blank. Perhaps this was why he was afraid to practice magic. The cloaked spectator raised and eyebrow, not thoroughly impressed by the youth's talent. Of course, he obviously found the magic to be amazing and disturbingly powerful, but a distilled sort of hatred was felt as the hooded man looked at his glistening young eyes.

• In mountain dead of the goddess' land,
  Cataclysm is quick at hand,
  There shall die a darkened youth,
  Everlong Dreamer, seek the truth.

A young boy suddenly felt a cold breeze, and looked behind to where the man was standing to see what the cause had been. The hooded staff-bearer had vanished.

Having recovered well enough to go on, Blank gritted his teeth and squinted as the sunlight filled his line of sight. He prepared to charge at his opponent once more, but thought better of it. That last attack had wounded him deeply, and he needed a divine form of medical attention; the holiest in the land. Sheathing his swords, he bent down to one knee and began to pray. “Din, Nayru and Farore, three wise sisters of Hyrule. Long has it been since I called upon you for your help. In the name of Hyrule, please heal my injuries and soothe my Hylian soul.

Favor of the Goddesses

Blank's prayers rise quickly skyward, heard by the entire crowd and hopefully by more than just them. Tarlen flaps his wings as all present eagerly wait to see what the goddesses' reply will be...and then, from out of nowhere, a trio of lights suddenly fall upon the Hylian's form, granting him the healing energies of those who had created his race so long ago (12+4[Roll+INT] vs. 15). "And the goddesses hear the cry of yet another Hylian!" Tarlen calls out. "Looks like Tayro's battle has just gotten that much tougher!"

Blank: 51 HP, 11 SPL
Tayro: 31 HP, 15 SPL

~Pyre sat in the stands shouting down at the pair. The fight had started off incredibly intense, with both adversaries attacking with all they had, and dealing massive damage. Now Blank had time to recuperate, but Tayro could do the same thing, and the match would once again even out. It had seemed like the mage had had a slight lead before the nomad had healed himself, but now that was gone and Blank currently held the advantage.

The match was far from over though, and could still go either way. No matter what happened, it was going to be an excellent battle.~

Pain. That was the primordial feeling he had suffered as he failed to dodge the Nomad's double strike. The way Blank twirled the swords in the air was impressive, and if he wasn't on the receiving side of the blade, he might have appreciated more the strength the Hylian Grunt seemed to possess. His available hand running fast towards the injured limb, he touched it, revealing a rather painful bruise and it would be safe to assume internal bleeding. But that would be it, as strangely his skin seemed to have resisted the blow somewhat. Weren't swords supposed to cut through skin easily? He let go of it for the moment, to see the grunt falling to the floor as his Shadow Burst came out true and fogged the Nomad's mind with terrible nightmares. Tayro felt bad for his actions, having to inflict such damage on a friend... but he had chosen this path, and there was now nothing he could do about it. "Look now! The evildoer Blank is now preparing one of his dirty schemes! Let's all cheer for Tayro so that this man can be punished for his actions!" - Emily yelled, trying to rally up the morale for the junior, her voice still enhanced. The Hylian smirked, happy for her intentions, even if she was shouting rather untrue things about Blank. However, her voice did bring out an interesting factor the youth had not yet noticed - a scheme? The boy looked at Blank, trying to avoid his suffering-ridden eyes, glancing at an important factor - the man was deeply concentrated, as if he was in prayer. He's going to use Favor of the Goddesses! - he mentally remarked, comprehending on how that would lower his chances of victory greatly. Mentally scorning himself for his lack of foresight, the youth did the only thing possible.

Namely, he started praying on his own. Recalling his younger days - as he was still young - back to a memory with him and Emily surrounding Mike. Yes, he remembered the scene. Mike had climbed to their very top of a tree, yet he lost his footing and fell down into the ground, making his two friends panic. Neither one of them knew how to perform a Life spell, and they both feared for young orphan's health. That's when they heard it... a mellow song carried by the winds, as if a voice was calling to them, something of great magnificence and somewhat otherwordly. They looked at each other, and their thoughts were the same. It was the call of the Goddesses - or so both thought at the time. Comprehending what was desired of them, due to their Hylian heritage, both began praying to the higher beings so that the boy would be saved - and it did function properly, as not a moment later did three rays of light - one red, one green and one blue - descend from the heavens, lighting the red-haired rascal, his wounds healing. The strategy was once again the same, and thus, silently, he began a prayer of his own, though noticing Blank's attempts had functioned. Please, Goddesses, hear out my plea! Din, grant me the strength to carry out this fight, so I can bring power to those that wish to pursue their dreams. Farore, grant me the courage I need to strike down a friend so that other lives may regain hope once more. Nayru, give me the wisdom necessary so that I may win this fight to deliver the fact that one need not only muscles to win battles! Please, grant me energy so I can fill the hearts of the orphans with contempt! - he prayed, his voice echoing in his mind as he tried to carry his message unto the heavens. And now... he'd have to leave things in the hands of the higher beings.

[Favor of the Goddesses]

Tayro's prayers, as well as those of the orphans cheering him on from the sidelines, rise skyward, anxiously awaiting the Favor of the Goddesses' descent. And yet the shining tri-colored lights never come (8+6[Roll+INT]), leaving the kid alone against the mighty power of his Nomadic adversary. Perhaps Tayro's desire to fill the children's hearts with 'contempt' had been his undoing... Regardless, he is not healed, and in the interim of hoping for the blessing to come, he has left himself entirely open to Blank's blades.

Blank: 51 HP, 11 SPL
Tayro: 31 HP, 15 SPL

Sovelis was waching the match with an intensity that he hadn't before. Before the tournement had begun, Sovelis had sparred with Blank; and gotten the tar beat out of him. The Nomad was indeed powerfull, too powerfull for anyone to defeat. Sovelis had even cast a shield, but Blank had sliced through Sovelis's protection like it was paper. Tayro didn't have much of a chance, but he probably had more of a chance than Sovelis did, since Tayro could heal, Sovelis couldn't. But Blank could ask for divine healing as well, so this match could last a LONG time. But who to root for? I kinda know Blank, but I'm still a little mad that I lost, but on the other hand, I haven't even spoken to this Tayro, but he's a fellow mage...I hate having to choose... The Tempest thought as he sat on the sidelines, hoping that he wouldn't have to fight Blank Fireside agian in the near future.

Blank smiled and felt a new breath of life entering his body as the tri-beams of the goddesses dispersed and returned to the heavens from whence they came. The revitalization to his full, healthy splendor made him forget about the youth's shadow assault altogether; the pain of that was completely nullified after the grace of the sisters touched his body. His mind felt clear, and his ears felt... annoyed? Wait, that wasn't a quality that Favor Of The Goddesses endowed upon the race of the land. Blank was thankful for the service Din, Nayru and Farore had granted him, and remembered exactly why they were so well regarded and praised.

It was unfortunate, however, that they had been unable to swell the brutal mockery the nomad was receiving from that one rude upstart in the audience. As she hollered all sorts of terrible things about the normally kind Hylian, he felt a pang of resentment and almost felt inclined to yell an angry “Shut up! I don't even know you!” into the stands. Alas, the voice seemed to be omnipresent, as though coming at the two fighters from every direction. Blank could not focus on both the fight and an unseen girl in the crowd. He looked back to Tayro with a wily grin. “Someone must like you, Tayro,” he laughed aloud. “I didn't think there was such a thing as the Tayro Wind Fanclub; are you involved in it, or is it just a rabble of screaming fangirls who want your hair?” he spoke with a hearty wink.

But even through one eye he could see the boy's next move. This caused his eye to un-wink and both ocular orbs to widen with surprise. “H-hey! That's my move!” He stuttered in shock, before stomping his foot sulkily. Yet when the glorious lights of the goddesses did not appear to the young man, Blank felt an ounce of remorse for the child. He seemed desperate to win at all costs; but then, Blank wanted to win pretty bad himself. Perhaps he would have thrown the match for Tayro's sake if the boy's reasons were great enough... but this tournament was for fun, not for agendas. That ounce of pity disappeared and was replaced with a simple smile. He shook his head but said nothing.

Seizing his new opportunity to strike, Blank did just that. He charged at the boy, exerting some of his reserved willpower into the attack to fuel his chances, and as he swept ever closer to the praying boy, his ferocity increased as well. He made a large stretch with his front leg, placing it far ahead of his back leg so that he was in half of a splits position. His torso was ow closer to the ground, and his arms whipped out powerfully with hilts in hand. Both Deku blades arced in symmetrically toward the teen, and Blank was prepared to turn the swords slightly to avoid any tearing of flesh; bruises and internal bleeding all the way. Blank wasn't so sure about spilling blood on the tourney floor, after all.

Will Used: 4

Even with Blank's many antics, which surprised a great part of the crowd - that is, except for the orphans who kept their cheers for their so-called hero - and the added desire he had to hit the mage apprentice, his attack doesn't come even near of hitting Tayro (3+4+4[Roll+AGI+Will] vs. 12+3[DEF+AGI]), granting him precious minutes to counter right back. It led one to wonder, though... maybe this was in fact the goddesses' work to aid the youth in his battle? Needless to say, roars of excitement filled the stands with children rooting for the mage. "Look at that!" Tarlen shouts. "Will this failure turn the tides of battle for Tayro's favor?!"

Blank: 51 HP, 11 SPL
Tayro: 31 HP, 15 SPL

The boy looked up towards the skies, looking with anxiousness towards the clouds, hoping the light, the multicolored beam of recovery to hit him like it did to Blank. Unfortunately for the youth, the assistance he had required did not come as expected. Above him, only the infinite skies, the shapeless clouds and Tarlen monitoring the fight could be seen, to the youth's dismay. His prayers had gone unheard... was he perhaps not sincere enough? Had he not been clear on his own motives? Or was it because he didn't tell the whole truth? Whatever it was - though it was probably the latter - now was not the time to ponder on such subject when there are twin swords ready to cut your own skin and flesh, rendering your body in two distinct halves. No, this was the time to... avoid! And, if by some holy miracle, avoid he did, rolling to the side yet not being able to avoid getting entangled with his own azure robes, fumbling a bit while trying to get up. Yet, he had completely avoided damage, smiling widely at that prospect. Was that by his own skill... or was it divine help? Either way, the youth grinned - now was the time to pay back, but first, to reply to his opponent's inquiry. "Sorry Blank, but it seems Emily sometimes doesn't know when to stop." - he mocked, daring a glance to the sidelines where the female youth was cheering widely for the junior mage, accompanied by Mike and many of the Orphanage kids - something he knew because they were wearing the light blue uniform he had been wearing for fifteen years. Emily was once again fumbling something about 'amazing movements', 'incomparable agility' and 'demonic nomad' in the middle of it all, but as the crowd cheered, her voice was unheard by the boy.

And thus, all stopped.

And thus, he reflected on his mistake the last time he prayed. Sure, he wanted all of the kids' happiness, but he failed to reflect on one main factor. I want to win this so I can maintain my position as the hero of the Orphanage. Aid me in my quest, I beg of you. - he added to his previous prayers, clapping his hands together if to reinforce the idea he wanted to transmit. [Favor of the Goddesses] He knew it necessary, he needed the divine guidance of the trio if he was to win this match, and luck. Much, much luck. Drawing out his staff, he then readied himself for his 'big brother"s next blow, and he knew it wouldn't be easy to avoid, but, just like before, he had to give his best to prove himself worthy of being called a hero!

Once more, the prayerful words of the young Mage soar skyward, carrying with them the hope of both Tayro and his childhood friends and admirers. Yet unlike before, this time they are spoken - or thought, I suppose would be more accurate - with humility, and it seems that the goddesses notice the difference. For now the light certainly does descend down to where the youth stands (10+6[Roll+INT]), granting him the healing power he has requested.

Blank: 51 HP, 11 SPL
Tayro: 53 HP, 15 SPL

He felt his arms swing out further than intended, and he watched as the boy dodged nimbly and avoided his attack expertly. Blank's lower body began to slide forward under the weight of his outstretched upper body, and he felt his torso rock forward until his face hit the ground and he landed in a jumbled heap of man and sword on the ground. The swords clattered on the stone as his grip on the weapons loosened, and his arms sprawled out haphazardly in a mess. Such an awkward failure mad him feel clumsy and worthless, so he was quick to leap to his feet and dart away from the boy. Much to his own chagrin, he soon realized his lack of weaponry in hand and bowed his head in shame. Walking embarrassingly back to Tayro and his swords, he knelt down by the praying boy and grinned. “I'll just take these...” he said lowly, kicking himself mentally as he stepped away from the youth.

Blank had felt sympathetic towards Tayro when the goddesses had refused his plight only moments before. However, beside this feeling of pity he had known that it was truly a blessing towards himself, for the fewer successes Tayro could muster the better chance Blank had of victory, and then championship. And considering that the boy was about a decade Blank's junior, it was unfit for him to walk away with the first round in the bag. Blank had too great a reputation to defend for that humiliating event to occur. Or at least, he liked to think that his reputation was that superior; really, he had no idea how well-regarded he was amongst Hyrule's adventuring citizens.

And so when the multicolored lights of the goddesses appeared as though from nowhere and descended on the boy in a holy, mystical sort of way, Blank could not help but sigh and shake his head in misery. There was but one thought keeping his spirits heightened as the tables were turned on him and the boy was rejuvenated to full vitality. It was less that the goddesses were helping Tayro to achieve and bringing certain doom and embarrassment to the nomad. It was more that they were giving the audience what they wanted - a longer, more suspenseful and exciting spectacle of a fight. Blank would oblige; he could not refuse after the service the goddesses had performed for him only moments ago. Besides, the audience would certainly enjoy a few minutes more of Blank Fireside goodness.

And he would certainly give them that, especially to the few who were persistently against him. The crimson-haired Hylian would have loved to see the demonic faces of the orphans as he struck down their hope and hero; it would serve them right. Such bias and slanderous shouting were not acceptable in an honorable setting like this, and Blank would teach Tayro to have his followers understand that some day. At all costs, he would teach the boy's friends some manners. Not wasting any time to let Tayro revel in his spell's success, the nomad leaped at his opponent and brought both arms up from his feet to the boy's gut, in a double uppercut sort of way; the only difference was the addition of wooden swords to the equation. Wildly he struck, not even considering his previous safety tactics of flat-of-the-blade pelting. This was an all out slash.