Round 2: Rehtul Orlogue vs Aliander

Rehtul slammed the door shut behind him as he entered the entry hall of the “Cursed Cathedral” room. A smooth marble floor reached out nearly infinitely in front of him, ending at a door so far away he could barely make out the gargantuan thing.

“I really need to stop letting that monk pick my rooms for me, if only just to avoid the bad puns. ‘This will be a religious experience.’ I really ought to freeze his mouth shut and teach him a few things about the meaning of humor. Can't believe he followed me to this Tournament,” Rehtul muttered under his breath as he reached out behind himself and gripped one of the door handles with his gloved hand. Frost began to creep into the metal, even into the springs of the locking mechanism on the door.

If there was someone in here, he was going to ensure that, at least for the time being, that it wouldn’t go out into the courtyard. He smiled slightly and continued to walk through the dimly lit corridor. He looked to both sides, keeping an eye out for the area his opponent would have appeared in. The Monks were always smart about that, making the two combatants involved in a match appear in different locations within an arena.

Pale blue light flicked off of the cracked and broken floor. Wrought iron braziers held pale blue flames within them, casting an eerie glow over everything in sight, creating shadows that might have or might not have been something moving in the background.

“Gotta hand it to them, they definitely know how to create an atmosphere. I really hope I’m not supposed to be fighting some kind of monster here. I’m terrible at dealing with things like that jumping out to scare me,” he muttered under his breath. He could already hear his father’s voice in his head.

There’s nothing to fear in this world. Nothing is beyond the ability of the practiced mage to comprehend, understand, and counteract.

“Yep, right on cue, the ghost of my dad’s lessons jumps right into my head just as I’m beginning to feel the most stressed out. Thanks a lot,” he said as he finally came up to the door on the other side of the hallway. He looked out at the giant wooden doors, more like gates than actual doors, and cupped his chin with two fingers.

He traced the dark cherry wood with a single finger. It seemed to be relatively in shape, compared to the rest of the building. He hadn’t expected the giant stone doors on the face of the building to be in disrepair, as those took decades to deteriorate, but these wooden ones seemed almost too pristine.

“Is this a part of the appeal?” he wondered aloud as he pushed the doors open. Great creaking and groaning responded to his touch as he grunted and pushed the doors as hard as he can, just barely getting them open enough to squeeze through.

“Oh, for the love of the Thaynes!” he wheezed as he leaned against one of the doors for support. “You things are too damn heavy.”

He looked into the room beyond the door cautiously, using the door to hide himself in case a projectile attack was incoming. Some people in the world thrived off of sneak attacks, and he wasn’t about to make himself an easy target.

Blue light, similar to that in the foyer filled the room. Dozens of pews filled the room, some overturned, others cracked and broken beyond all usefulness, all atop a gigantic ripped and torn blood red rug. Overall, the aesthetic of the room was perfect. A strange brazier, easily twenty times the size of any others that he had seen up until that point, sat behind the pulpit, blazing brightly with a violet flame that looked to be radiating darkness out in every direction.

“Definitely the most interesting arena I’ve ever been in,” Rehtul said as he came out from behind the door. He looked around for the person he was supposed to fight, assuming they’d even showed up yet.