New Blood Bracket Finals: Inkfinger v Wings of Endymion

[Inkfinger]

Cael leaned against the tree trunk; half holding his breath against the spicy scent of the forest as he waited - but nothing came.

The clearing was silent. There was no salvo of unseen projectiles, no head-on attack, and no crunch of leaves underfoot. Even the breeze seemed to have gone still, like a bird of prey perched in anticipation of either combatant’s next move.

Is she just going to hole up somewhere, then? That’s no good…

If she stayed, he’d have to move again, and that would only leave him open for a renewed attack. But something about the idea of Yuka holding still, coupled with the sensations from the nigh-depleted cranes, didn’t feel right.

This, whatever it might be, was certainly not hiding.

This was something else, something that gathered in the air; a heady, static-charged energy he couldn’t understand and also couldn’t ignore. It was making his skin itch with the anticipation of something beyond his ken.

He peeked around the tree, rubbing his sore shoulder absently, ignoring the ink fingerprints he left behind. He was in no hurry to get hit again, but...

That mere glimpse showed him what he had felt gathering: a split second of Yuka standing, serene beneath a ring of muted motion and light that raced outwards –

- and an eye-high maelstrom of reds, browns, golds and oranges, twigs and leaves and mulch exploded from the ground, swirling around the clearing like dull brown earth transmuted instantly into heatless fire. He had to close his eyes against the rush, feeling the crumpled and disgruntled cranes’ frustration at the sudden wind seeping through the back of his head.

He couldn’t pay them much mind. He raised his naginata like a bar before him, and tried to remember, exactly, where Yuka had been before they’d been set upon by the disorienting cyclone of loam and leaf.

He’d barely shifted backwards, the circle of binding a mere foot to his side, when he heard Yuka’s voice call out. The words were lost, entirely, in the crackling roar of the storm, but the shout was closer than he would have expected. His pale blue eyes snapped open just in time to see the sign glowing on a pale outstretched palm.

He let out a yelp, swinging the naginata in a wide arc. She evaded the wild swing with ease, though he managed to leave a thin line of obsidian ink on her forearm. Her hand closed around the naginata shaft, and he dragged back, pulling her a few steps off-balance before she let go. He followed through, swinging the capped butt for the back of Yuka’s knees…

But before the blow could fall, her quarterstaff smacked him in the shin. The skin there tingled, itching up to his knee before spreading upwards. He tried to step forward, and it was if his knee had been frozen stiff. And it just wasn’t that leg, it was both legs, and the irony was enough to shock a laugh to his lips.

He, rather pointedly, didn’t even glance towards his own trap. There was still a chance, however small, that this could work out in his favor.

[Wings of Endymion]

The faint aroma of burnt ozone tingled in the back of her nose as the foliage finally began to settle again about her. She felt almost sorry for disturbing their peaceful serenity, the splendour that the multi-coloured carpet had cast over the drab forest floor, but at the same time she could not help but bask in a distinct sense of satisfaction at the success of her stratagem. Not all beauty was necessarily natural, not all beauty was even tangible, and sometimes an artificial helping hand could create a wonder all its own. The whirlwind of brightly coloured leaves had indeed, to her eyes at least, been nothing short of wondrous.

So wondrous, in fact, that she didn't even notice the thin line of black ink that was beginning to stain her tunic top.

“Sorry, Cael,” Yuka grinned at the inkmage apologetically, deciding that enough was enough and that she no longer could bear the thought of duelling her friend, consequences be damned. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too much…”

He spluttered at her, only semi-coherent, in a mixture of wry laughter and indignant complaint. Yuka’s brow furrowed in a slightly concerned frown, eyebrows knitting prettily in thought; she couldn’t explain his inarticulacy, given that her spell should have acted to simply paralyse Cael’s good leg. Combined with the strain he had already placed on his other limb, she’d hoped that it would root him to the spot… but she hadn’t counted on this adverse a reaction. Perhaps she hadn’t controlled her power enough, or perhaps – and here her heart skipped a beat – she was regaining some of the strength she had lost.

And yet she could not completely repress that niggling feeling at the back of her mind… that she was still missing something important about her situation.

“Here, I’ll help you,” Yuka offered, trying to push away her worries as she dropped her staff to the ground and circled around to his side. “Lean on me…”

… the inkmage seemed to scrabble in the dirt for the moment, furtively covering his tracks with a pile of dead foliage as he gathered up the tools of his trade…

“… and I’ll take a look at…”

…had he inadvertently stumbled there as he crossed the clearing?

Her leather shoes stepped on something within the fallen foliage. Something that was slightly too artificial to be a leaf.

… kami forbid that he sees this coming...

The ground at her feet erupted in a bright blue veil of light. Her mind reeled from the sudden assault and the burst of brilliant colour that cocooned her on all sides, and her body...

Oh, Yuka tried to exclaim, but her face seemed to be frozen in a curious expression of shock and awe. Not a muscle in her body was willing to obey her commands.

[Inkfinger]

Cael could move enough to manage a shrug and a wry grin of his own, finally gaining control of his tongue through the dangerous, tired haze that seemed to find everything hilarious.

Now is not the time for a breakdown.

“You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry.” He tried to lift his foot, and found it was still every bit as stuck as it had been a moment before. He waved a hand at the paper visible beneath Yuka’s foot, and the thin filaments of blue-gray light anchoring her boot to the ground. “I was going to warn you, but…” he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “We must look like a matching pair of idiots right now.”

He had never thought of just how frustrating his traps were. Here he was, mere feet away from his opponent, and yet the distance might as well have been miles. True, he could have reached out with the naginata, just brushed it across her neck, ink marking the path a true killing blow would have made - but…that wouldn’t precisely be fair. Not after she’d dropped her staff to help him, after all. That would be fighting Areesha’s fight, by Areesha’s rules, and he wasn’t about to do both.

She'll probably think this is damn hilarious when she hears about it.

Somehow, here - in the golden-tinged sunlight filtering through the foliage - that thought didn’t carry the fear it had previously. If Areesha was satisfied, this was the end, and if she wasn’t…

I can cross that bridge when I come to it. No use borrowing trouble.

“The circle will wear down in a couple of minutes.” And it would. The cylinders of almost-physical light never lasted more than five minutes, even at his best. The circle Yuka had stepped on was far from his best work. It had been too hurried, there had been too much white space, and the last time he’d used the circles had been months ago, in a wild attempt to escape Knife’s Edge.

It had failed once he’d got his brother loose, true, but much like he couldn’t be bothered to worry about Areesha here, he couldn’t think of the Cathedral’s cold cellar – the vibrant light, life and fire of the woods blocked it from his mind as effectively as any of the walls had held him in.

“I’ll take the chance to thank you, though,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious as he tried to move his feet again. His feet were having none of it, and he bit back a sigh, plunking the naginata’s butt onto the loam and leaning against it to take the weight from his bum knee. “For the soap, back…then, whenever it was.” He spoke of the Garden, still uncertain. For months he had seen that place as a dream, a construct of fever and wishful thinking. “You treated me like a human, and I…hadn’t had a lot of that back then...”

He may have continued talking, if he hadn't heard the tell-tale crackle of leaf under steel and leather. He tore his gaze from Yuka's dark, gentle eyes, scanning the forest behind her. For a moment, all he saw was the visual cacophony, broken here and there by the proud birches and gnarled oaks, nearly-bare branches swaying.

Wait, there's not that strong a breeze...

The motion of the leaves solidified into a recognizable figure, and Cael almost groaned aloud in dismay. He swallowed the noise at the last moment, settling for a glower that didn't hide how he felt in the least.

Oh, damn it. I knew he wouldn't go too far.

[Wings of Endymion]

“Well, well, wot do we ‘ave ‘ere?”

The hackles at the back of Yuka’s neck rose at the sound of Polecat’s voice, a slimy slithering sensation that reminded her of the creeping feel of his fingers upon her shoulder. She couldn’t move her body to turn to face him, which only made it worse, but the look of utter disgust on Cael’s face was more than enough confirmation of her suspicions.

“Didn’t we tell you to…”

“I forgot summit, didn’t I?” the Coronian entrepreneur interjected, neatly cutting Cael off in mid-sentence. Polecat reached down beside Yuka’s haversack to deposit a small leather pouch… the very same leather pouch full of gold that Yuka had offered him the previous evening. “Can’t be takin’ money for a job that I ain’t done, can I? Sorry and sad for business, that is.”

“Stay away from…” Yuka managed, finding her voice at last. Polecat only laughed.

“I ain’t touchin’ your belongings, pretty, daan’t worry,” he assured her, tucking pretentiously at his woollen suit and tipping his cap. “There ain’t anything there that I’d want.”

“Hey…”

“And as for ya, scribe. Areesha’s an old mate of mine, but not one that I wouldn’t mind pullin’ sum wool over na and again. I was only asked ter make sure that ya fought... and, I guess ya did for that. So ya win, and I win, and we can aw go ‘ome ‘appily, can’t we?”

Cael’s glare made it very clear that he did not trust the man, and for that matter, neither did Yuka. But with neither of them able to move – and Polecat very keenly aware of that particular fact – it was not as if they had much choice.

“I’ll leef ya ter it, then, shall I?”

With one final tip of his bowler hat, Polecat sauntered away from the scene, whistling a jaunty tune. As the crisp tread of his boots upon the autumn leaves faded away into the distance, the silence they left in their wake was almost anticlimactic. Yuka’s dark eyes met Cael’s pale blue, and the look that passed between them pretty much summed up the entirety of the frustration and annoyance that they shared.

Then she smiled in relief, and he followed a moment later, and then they were both laughing.

[Amaril Torrun]

Not So New Anymore but Still… New Blood Bracket

Wings

Story

Continuity - 8 -

Setting - 9 -

Pacing - 7 -

Character

Dialogue - 7 - Phrases such as “Here I come,” aren’t necessary or likely in combat, even at a whisper and especially at a time when Yuka wants to catch her opponent by surprise.

Action - 7 -

Persona - 6 -

Writing Style

Mechanics - 8 - There were a few misspellings, such as “paralyse” instead of paralyze.

Technique - 8 -

Clarity - 8 -

Wild Card - 7 -


Inkfinger

Story

Continuity - 7 - Why is Cael in his predicament with Areesha? The story was put together well, but I couldn’t help going back to this question. Her involvement in creating this little bout is enough to give cause for some more background information on why she’s treating Cael like a slave.

Setting - 8 -

Pacing - 7 -

Character

Dialogue - 7 -

Action - 7 -

Persona - 7 -

Writing Style

Mechanics - 6 - The parenthesis, hyphens, and even commas were used too often. You seem to want to emphasize too much in your writing, when the writing can speak for itself. Instead, your sentences sometime come across as broken, while other times touch on run-on.

Technique - 7 -

Clarity - 7 -

Wild Card - 7 -


Totals:

Wings - 75

Inkfinger - 70

Wings of Endymion earns 1200 experience and advances to the Magus Cup Finals.

Inkfinger earns 300 experience.

Congratulations to both of you for going so far in this.

If either of you have any questions or want further commentary, feel free to get in touch through PM or AIM: loligagerrofl12.

[Taskmienster]

Exp added.