Serenti Final: Pestartz vs Rehtul Orlogue

[Hysteria]

Rounds starts on the 24th of July and run for three weeks.

First person to post sets the scene.

Prompt: A dirty haze.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul looked ahead of himself into the dim light as his eyes slowly began adjusting. He felt around with his feet lightly, hoping not to stumble over an unseen ledge to his premature death, thus knocking him out of the tournament entirely. He sighed as he looked up at what he could only presume was the sun or moon through the gray haze surrounding him. He coughed and covered his mouth with the collar of his robe.

He reached out with one gloved hand and willed the moisture in the atmosphere into his grip. A slight smile crossed his lips as a slender blade of the frozen substance appeared.

He suppressed a sigh of relief as his eyes glittered in the penumbra. This choking cloud of dust wasn’t going to get the better of him, no matter who it was he happened to be facing. As long as there was moisture in the atmosphere, he had a chance, and there was a slight amount.

“It’d help immensely if I could actually see,” he muttered under his breath as he looked around, blinking as the suffocating cloud continued to cloud his sight and sting his eyes. There was so much that he didn’t like about this, and the limited visibility was only one of those things. He could feel claustrophobia beginning to set in.

He also thought about the gallons of shampoo he’d have to use to clean his hair after this round was over. It was almost as though the people in charge of these arenas enjoyed putting him in situations that would cause him to bring damage onto the one part of his physical appearance he actually took great pride in. A scowl crossed his lips as he considered ways to get revenge on them all, though he quickly reconsidered.

He started walking again, reaching out carefully with each foot, trying to find something with which to situate himself on the field of battle. He could feel the footing beneath him beginning to feel softer, but thought little of it. He took one final step and yelped as his foot caught a slight dip in the ground, which ended him up tied in a knot on the ground rather swiftly.

Muttering loudly, he stood up and dusted himself off. He looked off to his left while doing so and noticed that the light streaming down from the sky seemed to be slightly bright just a bit off that way.

He knew it could have been some kind of trap, or perhaps a spot designed to draw the two combatants of the round together, but he was willing to try it to get a chance to get the dirt out of his eyes and to finally get the round started in earnest. Carefully, he began picking his way through the unseen once more, attempting to find light in the half light.

Finally, he came out to the brighter place, and was delighted to find that the dusty haze that surrounded him was lightened considerably here, for at least a few hundred feet in either direction. At least now he could make his bearings, though what he saw was less than what he’d hoped. Choking weeds surrounded him on either side, drowning out the grass that surely must have grown here once. A small house, more of a hovel, was off to his side. The house itself was wood, but the roof appeared to be made of sod.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rehtul said under his breath. It looked like this had at one time or another been a farm.

He knew that the dust would be able to block the sunlight and kill all but the most resilient plants nearby, but what caused the giant dust cloud? It was a question that the young man considered only for a few moments before he managed to drag himself back into the real world.

“Where is he?”

[Pestarzt]

There are moments in every man’s life when he begins to reevaluate the choices he’s made in his meagerness, and waking up to find out I’d won another round of the Serenti tournament, with no memory of what transpired, seemed like another one of mine. Startled from a stone-drunk sleep, slick with sweat and rank from what I hope was my own urine, I heard the cheering crowds outside another rented tavern door. They shouted my name with the same reverence and rhythm oft found in a quaking pulpit; their banging drums and insentient mantra more ear-splitting than encouraging, but it motivated me enough to get dressed, splash some water on myself, and jump out of bed - not necessarily in that order.

I’d been greeted by a small assembly one could only find in the podunk towns that dotted the countryside. Sure they were salt of the earth, but with three fingers on each hand and fewer grandparents betwixt them, I could only manage some slight semblance of a smile to placate their guffaws and chuckles, as I desperately tried to piece together how I managed yet another win. What they lacked in information, oh how they lacked in information, they more than made up in spirit. I was treated to round after round of warm ale, startling smacks on my back, and one very friendly prostitute with sagging feature so sad, I’d have to cross myself before entering. As she cooed at me with whispered, whooping coughed words on my newest triumph, she slipped an envelope into hands with a gingerness one expects from someone with callouses on her elbows. In it was the location of my next arena.

I’ll tell you, some people are all for the three cheers and an excuse to drink, but when the time comes to ask for a ride, they’ve got places to be.

So I forged ahead.

Just me, a gas mask, two cigarettes, a heavy-ass crowbar, and my ever-moistening suit.

The day wasn’t too bad, but as the terrain grew more perilous and I sobered up, the raucous crowd from earlier became less a celebration and more a taunt. As far as I could remember, I achieved nothing in the tournament worthy of accolades, which is par for the course, really. Something had done a number on my noggin, etching itself a nice little alcove to settle in, comfy-cozy, in the rot of my mind. Maybe it was the Keti, that sickly-sweet vapor that tore through my body and drove me into a frenzy. Maybe it was the constant cycle of death and rebirth, worthy of nonsensical scripture for a fevered shepherd. Whatever had caused the gaps in my memory, it added a sort of funny focus through the lens of dementia. I’d started out the Serenti as the wide-eyed, if not entirely bushy-tailed, type of sap that falls for promises of gold and glory. But with so many pieces missing to the puzzle, it lost all meaning to me in some kind of disorganized, well-intentioned, road-paved-to hell kind of way.

The air around me grew thick and gritty, coating my teeth and innards with all manner of who-knows-what that I was better off not knowing. I was grateful, for once, to wear that clunky pair of boots; they provided a stability and security to me as I fiddled about blindly in the haze, carefully choosing my steps and extending my arms for a bit of balance. The sun above gave everything a muddled, golden hue, reminding me of the whore from earlier, with skin you could upholster a couch with. In truth, it didn’t bother me too bad. Growing up in Ettermire, five-foot visibility through the smog was considered a good day for a picnic. So commonplace was the congested air, that I thought the world was ending the first time I caught glimpse of an unsullied sun when I was five. Lighting up a smoke lifted my mood even further. The sweet tar coating it provided was a welcomed relief to what surrounded me - hell, I felt like jogging, but sure as hell didn’t. But no sooner had I began my second puff, then I heard a weak chirping from underfoot. As I bent down to find its source, I was surprised to see a strange little creature.

It was small, brown - naturally or the product of this wasteland - with those black, beady, soulless eyes the gods gave cute animals to fuck with people’s heads. It wobbled a bit, it’s tiny feet swaying to a beat all its own; seemingly startled by the giant who took such curiosity with it, but unable to pick a direction to run as it sort of just rolled over on itself.

“Ahh, ‘Sup?” I inched my face just a bit closer to get a better look, unsure of the reality of it all. I don’t think I stepped on it, but it was certainly acting like something had. I blindly felt around on the ground nearby, before finding a small, dry twig to nudge it with. “You okay, little guy?” He didn’t answer to prodes or words, only squirmed a bit, trying to stand itself back up on unsteady feet. “This place probably isn’t too safe for you. Gonna’ be a fight nearby real soon. Go hide in a bush or, I don’t know, whatever.” He chirped again, weaker than before, and then started to stare at me with such intensity that I had to check behind my shoulder. With a sigh, I carefully reached towards him to pluck him from the dusty earth, and stood back up to examine him in the - slightly better - light. He bit my hand, but too feebly to break the skin, and he knew it too. After that, he just resigned himself to a sweaty-palmed embrace.

“Just kind of, I don’t know, point your nose in the direction of your nest or den?” He chirped again, shivering all the while. I popped the thing into my jacket pocket, hoping I could find some out of the way brush towards the arena he could chill in during the fight. “Just don’t smoke my last cig, little guy. I’m saving that for after the fight.” He rustled around a bit in there, but stopped once I continued on my way.

Ahead at some distance, tearing through the haze with a vengeance, the sun extended an arm towards the vague hope of a structure. Held together less with brick and mortar, and more dung and dust, a hovel stood in defiance of the very principle of entropy. All around it grew knotted roots and tangled weeds that wove through the ground with some planning, but no nurturing. The land itself seemed to be in open revolt of life. And, nearby of course, stood another man not thirty feet away from me. His figure was elusive, though I doubted it was his design. All I could make out clearly was a stalk of glimmering white hair atop his head. The sight of him caused me to grab the gas mask at my belt with my right hand, drawing it close to my face. In hindsight, I probably should have put it on earlier, but I was enjoying the smoke too much.

“‘Sup?” I called through the haze, letting the cigarette butt drop to the ground as I drew a bit closer. “Name’s The Pestarzt.”

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Muffled steps echoed through the haze. Rehtul turned his gaze toward where he thought the sound was from and saw a dark figure moving through the dust. It looked roughly humanoid, but he couldn’t be sure. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he heard what he could only assume was a human voice through the cloud.

The other being finally came up close enough to be heard, even through the odd apparatus on his face muffled his voice somewhat. As the person spoke, he introduced himself as this strange combination of sounds that the young Orlouge could only guess at the meaning of.

“The... Pisstest?” he asked, trying to make sure he heard the man right over his air filter. Idly, the young ice mage thought that he should have invested in something to breathe through that wasn’t made of thick, choking cotton. Inwardly he shrugged, though, knowing that there was little he could do about it. He smiled and bowed to the man.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, I suppose. I’m Rehtul Orlouge, representative of the Ixian Knights and the Orlouge family here in this tournament,” he said simply, one arm crossed over the other as he eyed the other man with one brow cocked. He rested on the heel of his left foot as he stood there for a few moments, thinking over everything that had brought him to this point, from Sei’s ridiculous suggestion that he of all people represent the Knights, and then even more strangely to the reason.

“According to your uncle, Rehtul sir... It will help you grow as both a fighter and an individual. You need to see the types of people in the world, as many as possible, and this tournament is a way to help you see beyond the sheltered life that you have lived so far, out into the great unknown.”

“Sounds like an excuse he brought up after the fact when he found out that I wasn’t going to find this particularly fun,” he had told the officer who had supplied him with both the orders and Sei’s reasoning. At the time, he had been right. The trip to the tournament grounds was boring, he was constantly surrounded by people who could not in the least bit excite his attention, from either a personal or intellectual standpoint. He literally had almost nothing to invest.

That was, until he got through his own first fight in the Serenti. Something in that fight had awakened him, but he didn’t really have time to dwell on it quite yet. With a smile, he exerted his will on the small shard of ice he had in his palm and it slithered up his arm to wrap around his wrist like a frozen bracelet, hidden under his sleeve.

With very little else that he could do without blatantly showing off his power, which this other man had not done yet, Rehtul drew the blue-white dagger hanging at his side.

He knew it wasn’t much, and he was currently kicking himself for not having a back up weapon for when this thing would inevitably prove to be useless, but there was little else he could use in order to show himself ready for combat and yet still keep his powers hidden from view until he could gauge the man before him.

What secrets do you hold? I will find them.

[Pestarzt]

”Someone ought’a tell this kid that punk is dead.”

Life on Althanas never ceased to amaze me in its complete ability to make the oddest people and strangest circumstance come off as completely banal. The earthen haze that lazily stirred around the battlefield was as still a backdrop as I could hope for to see my rather brazen opponent, like a shard of blue-white glass glittering in the muck of some side-street run off. He was shorter than me and maybe a bit younger, with a stalk of ice for hair to match his eyes and robes. I was sensing a theme to the whole ensemble. Water or frost, perhaps starlight or the moon - it didn’t really matter. Whenever an opponent had to advertise their abilities with their outfit, I knew I’d taken a wrong turn through cliche avenue, straight into hackneyed premise boulevard.

As he said my name back to me - like a first-year teacher in a foreign school, wrong and worried about appearing that way - I could tell this fight was going to have the same ethos and lasting appeal as all the other one’s that the Serenti had given me. Whatever his powers, however the match would go, I’d forget it all the moment I felt the sweet rush of Keti hit me. He went on to introduce himself, but I didn’t bother registering a word he said. Name drops I was unfamiliar with, titles I didn’t care for; I was too busy stroking the now slumbering critter inside my jacket pocket. It felt like the more pressing concern.

“Yeah, that’s great kid.” I tried my best to sound enthused, but rarely had my best ever been good enough. “Give me a sec. Got to talk to the squirrel in my coat.” Prying the pocket open with my index finger, I tilted my head just enough to peek inside and spot the two faint glimmers of those beady little eyes staring back at me.


“Alright, little guy,” I whispered, hoping the strange echo from my mask wouldn’t frighten him further. “Shit’s about to get real fast out here. I’m going to juice up, smash that guy to the ground, and then get you into that house a bit behind him. You can rest easy there, maybe watch the rest of the fight. I’ll come get you afterwards.” If he understood a single word I said, I’m sure he would have been reassured. I knew I was. As I gave him one last parting nod, and put my jacket back into place, I glanced from my opponent to the house, back and forth between the two. I needed to make sure the plan was firmly in mind, because the second I drew that smoke from my mask, logic and reason became distant, desperate, fevered dreams.

“Nothing personal, kid,” I called to my opponent, with a bit more power to my voice than I was comfortable with. As I refilled my lungs with air in that deep breath afterwards, I could hear the click and sizzle of the mechanism inside my mask. The heating coil seared the crystal, and my lungs were greeted by that harsh warmth they knew all too well. “Truth is,” I coughed a bit, clutching lightly at my chest as I regained composure, “I usually find it real hard to do what I’m about to do to you, you know?” He didn’t, but he would soon enough.

Part of me regretted it. Part of me wanted nothing to do with the Keti, or the violent fervor that came with it. Part of me wanted to remember every second of my life to cherish the great mystery of it all. But that part of me didn’t feel the thrill of fire erupt from every muscle, vessel, and sinew in my body. It didn’t know the sweet joy of the light-headedness, or the extreme focus that came after. It could never be part of that swell of relief that knew personal responsibility was a bygone concept, or the simple pleasure of smashing someone’s face into mush.

I took a few steps toward him, slow and deliberate, as I let myself become awash in the ecstasy. I could feel the wind kicked up around me, and though the clearing we’d been in had been spared the full brunt of the haze before, now it seemed completely enveloped by it. The sun may have shone down in the fullest force around me, but by the gods, everything but my opponent might as well have been in pitch black, because he was all I could see.

As I slid the crowbar from off my belt and felt the cool wrought iron in my hand, I smiled beneath my mask, and charged headlong towards him. Twenty paces may have separated us, but not even the hand of god could have held me back.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

The young man watched as his opponent, which he would now be calling the man in his own head, approached him after taking a breath through his mask. There seemed to be something different about him as he approached him, a certain sick and twisted aura that suddenly appeared, as though he had turned into a completely different person under the effects of whatever mental trick he had managed to put himself under. He could feel the fear building in the pit of his stomach as he was approached by this man.

Suddenly, the man broke out into a full run and rapidly closed the distance between the two combatants. The dust grew thicker for a moment in front of Rehtul and the man that he had been facing disappeared into thin air. The young Orlouge looked around, searching for the man before looking down and seeing a shadow on the ground, rapidly closing in distance on him.

He barely had time to move a few inches to the side and felt a sharp pain resound through his shoulder. He hit one knee under the force of the blow and barely had the presence of mind to pull some sitting moisture from the dirt beneath the topsoil, adding a little bit more heft to the bracelet of ice he had sitting around his wrist. With a huge burst of energy, he managed to push the bar that had slammed into his shoulder aside and back up a little. His eyes flashed dangerously for a moment, pupils dilating to pinpricks in the preternatural light. He pointed his fingers at the man before him with a frown.

There was little else he could do at the moment but hope that the man was not expecting him to attack by merely pointing at him. There wasn’t enough moisture in the air for him to do much more than attack with the small amount he had found in the air when he first entered combined with the few droplets he had managed to pull from the dry ground.

With an exertion of will, the ice wrapped around his wrist crawled quickly up his hand and erupted from his middle finger in a spike, flying toward the chest of the man opposite him.

I need to find water, or I’m a dead man, he thought as he narrowed his eyes and dropped his body into a lower center of balance. He had seen the man’s attack with his own eyes, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to outrun him.

[Hysteria]

Thread closed, as it did not reach 10 posts, not exp awards will be given for the fight.

I'm going to cut the rewards back a bit given the outcome of the tournament. Unfortunately this means there is no 'winner'.

Rehtul Orlouge: 500xp 500gp
Pestarzt: 500xp 500gp