Zerith vs. Bloodrose: Don't Hold Back.

[Zerith]

Grandmaster.

After all the years of waiting and numerous defeats in tournaments, The halberdier had finally managed to achieve something. It wasn’t just anything either, he was the first to climb the ranks of Dajas Pagoda since it reopened and earn the title of Grandmaster. Grandmaster Zerith, he loved the way he sounded.

With the title, the warder found himself developing quite the ego. His self-esteem skyrocketed, his confidence ascended to a level where he didn’t think existed. As far as he was concerned, nobody was going to come near his place in the Pagoda anytime soon, let alone actually beat him. So he was free to whatever he wanted, as he was sure he wouldn’t have a challenger for a long time.

That was exactly what he did too. He took a leave and married his lover, Jasmine. Hell, he would’ve still been at her side, looking foward to the upcoming birth of their first child. Yet he was suddenly called back to the Pagoda. Apparently a challenger did climb through the ranks and now had his eyes set on challenging the Grandmaster. This made the Zerith frustrated. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to be at home with his wife.

Staring at one of the paintings in his chamber, the halberdier tried to focus on what he was here for. His room was devoted to battle. Six statues of warriors stood tall along the walls, a small number of paintings depicting the major battles in Althanas’ history were scattered along the room. Countless weapons of all types hung on the walls and in the center of the room a large hole in the ceiling allowed for a large spotlight of sunshine into the room. Four pillars supported the roof, each engraved with war poems in elven.

Sighing, the halberdier waited for someone to bring his challenger to him. He already wanted to be done with this. To be done with whoever threatened his position and continue enjoying being at the top of the Pagoda. Yet slowly, his lips formed into a smile as he remembered this is what he became a Hierarch for. To fight the best that Althanas had to offer and not have to hold anything back.

He only hoped the challenger knew what he was getting himself into.

[Bloodrose]

This is what it's all been for...

Thirty some odd years of working towards other people's goals, fighting other people's wars, can leave a man strangely empty on the inside. Thirty years is a long time when well spent on family, legacy, and reputation - but when that time is spent in the trenches and on the blood-soaked fields of battle, thirty years seems more like a hundred. It's impossible to describe the emptiness Teric Bloodrose felt gnawing away at his insides every time he contemplated thirty years that could have been better spent. That hunger, chewing him apart from within, was a hydra armed with the vague, ghostly faces of family and children that would never be.

It was the same hunger that drove him to the doors of the Grandmaster, and set him pacing like a caged dog waiting to get free. Fighting men, if that is what they truly are, will tell you that the empty hunger of possibilities past is a terrible famine sated only by the one thing that keeps them going. For men such as these, men such as Teric, the call of battle is a tasty steak, red and bloody and waiting to alleviate the hunger, if only temporarily...

Teric was dressed lightly, forgoing his heavy coat in favor of the speed and range his attire could afford. His iron-shod boots clicked a steady rhythm on the stone floor outside the Grandmaster's chamber. He wore his typical trappings of black breeches, a crimson shirt, and black vest. The vlince of his breeches and shirt were a little rougher on his limbs than cotton, but the veteran was more aware of the cool metal links of his haubergeon on his chest and back, disguised beneath his clothes to present himself as if unarmored.

This is what you've worked for...

Lorenor had been the first stepping stone on this path. It was a step that Teric had missed, falling into defeat before the Pagoda's keepers dragged him back to replace the ghoul when he left. A welcome favor, to some maybe, but to be given something he hadn't earned with his sword didn't sit well with Teric's mercenary style. It had been then, first in his battle with Torgrim the Northman, and then Samir the zombie, that the warrior had decided to show the Pagoda that he belonged here. He accepted their favor and in return had made his way to the doorstep of the Master's Master...

The doors to the Grandmaster's arena swung open with the boom of wood on stone in an open chamber. Teric wasted no time in striding through the open archway, sword and shield at the ready, to arrive in the center of the room and confront the long absent alpha of the Hierarchs. The warrior contemplated for a moment what the man, the one they called Zerith, must be thinking at that moment. For a long time now, at least as far as Teric knew, the Grandmaster had gone unchallenged for his seat of dominance - and while it took strength and determination to climb to the top of the mountain, self-confident warriors seldom remembered just how much work it can take to stay there...

"Zerith Dracosius," Teric said gruffly, eyeing the younger man with grim determination, "I've come for your title."

The veteran's tone was not that of a challenger addressing a champion, but of one man confronting another before taking something that he wanted. It was a tone that implied Zerith had held for too long something he needn't fight to protect, but that now there was someone more than eager to strip it away from him...

[Zerith]

To the young Grandmaster, there was nothing quite like a good battle. The fear of knowing that at any moment a mistake could cost you everything, the thrill of going head to head against someone and the excitement of finding out who was the better fighter. It was those things and more that originally convinced the halberdier to take a position in the Pagoda. Sure, the possibility of an early death terrified Zerith when he was much younger and started living the life as an adventurer. However now he was older and had several fights and victories under his belt with his trophies to prove it. Yet since claiming the Grandmaster title nobody dared to challenge him.
That was of course until this old man showed up.
He had never fought a much older man before. If it was due to the life expectancy of swordsman these or because men just retired early, he’d probably never know. All that really matter was the fact that he finally had a challenger. So it was time to brush the dust off the halberd and see if this stranger still had the skills to stand up against the younger Grandmaster.

Sapphire eyes moved to settle upon the form of the older swordsman. They moved up and down, scanning the halberdier’s opponent as if they judging to see how he would score in some unknown category. Slowly, Zerith’s lips formed a grin as he finally took a step away from the painting he had been admiring. “No, old man, you’ve come to try and take my title.”

The halberdier turned and casually walked away from the swordsman while adjusting his left bracer slightly. “Don’t get me wrong. You’ve beaten a Master of the Pagoda. So you’ve earned the chance to take a shot at me.” Approaching the opposite wall to the door the swordsman just entered from, Zerith reached his right arm out to retrieve something hung on the wall.

The red wooden shaft was slightly warm to the Grandmaster’s touch. His hand ran along the smooth surface briefly as he admired the weapon displayed. Clasping his hand around the shaft of the halberd, Zerith’s grip tightened as he lifted the polearm up off its stand with ease.

His left hand moved and naturally grabbed onto the wooden shaft as he turned back around to face the swordsman. The blade of the halberd, upon recognizing its master, crackled with electricity as small bolts coursed along the titanium. Zerith’s stance shifted into a fighting stance, his legs spaced apart and his knees slightly bent. As his eyes locked onto the form of his challenger, he could almost already hear the clashing of his Amenzanil against his opponent sword and it sounded beautiful.

“However, you’re about to find out why I’m the Grandmaster. Compared to them, I’m in an entirely different league of my own.”

Instead of running head on towards the swordsman, he halberdier waited. After spending all that time waiting, this man was the first to come to him and relieve him from sitting in this purgatory. So he wanted to at least honour him by giving him the chance to make the first move.

[Bloodrose]

A knowing half-smile spread over Teric's grim mask of concentration, even as the veteran's eyes followed the Grandmaster's movements. He's confident at least, the mercenary was thinking, with all the bravado and ego I would expect a Grandmaster to possess. The younger man's walk-and-talk carried him in a short journey to the far wall, where the man retrieved an interesting weapon. Spearmen and halberdier's, especially ones wielding such obviously enchanted polearms, were an unfamiliar opponent for Teric.

The older warrior snorted derisively when the young Grandmaster sat back on his haunches and waited.

All that talk and he expects me to come to him? Teric began walking to his right side, placing his shield arm between the halberdier and himself as he moved in a slow strafe around the Grandmaster. The older warrior craned his head left and right as he walked, popping the old cricks in his neck to loosen them for the battle ahead. His fingers on both hands instinctively tightened and loosened their grip in time with the mercenary's steps. It kept the blood flowing to the extremities much better than just holding onto a weapon in a death-grip.

"A different league? Perhaps." Teric kept the Grandmaster in the corner of his eye as he moved around the outside of the pillar on the younger man's left side. The Mythril blade was light in his hand, the point drawing figure-eights in the air above the floor as the warrior kept himself ready to react at a second's notice. "But yours is a league not much tested." Teric's voice rose confidently as he spoke; a measured form of bluster meant only to show the Grandmaster that his attempts - however mild - at intimidation were futile.

"Let's see if your skills match your talk, Grandmaster!"

Teric wasn't here to play games. Unlike his challenges at the Warrior level, the mercenary had no interest in toying with his opponent to draw the fight out into a prolonged affair. He was here to put down the Pagoda's alpha dog, and he knew better than to hold back against any man deemed worthy of that title. A polearm's greatest advantage was its ability to keep attackers at a distance, but by waiting for Teric, and allowing the older man to circle to his left, Zerith had allowed most of that distance to close unchallenged. Teric's shield arm came up to chest height, palm open towards the Grandmaster.

The warrior's legs moved to launch into motion, ready to throw Teric forward. It was a quick motion, but enough for the Pagoda Hierarch to notice, and probably to focus the Grandmaster's attention on his person. The feint was a good way to ensure the halberdier was watching, because only a fool would close his eyes while someone charged them...

Teric blinked slowly, knowingly, even as he started to move forward...

BOOM!

There was a bright flash of light, and a thunderous crack, like a lightning strike against the cold night sky as Teric's flashbang erupted from the palm of his hand. It was a good trick to use at the start of a fight, designed to surprise and disorient an opponent. The blinding light and noise were excellent for dulling the two most important senses, if only temporarily, and while Teric was also deafened by the strike - he was smart enough not to blind himself...

One step forward - a result of the feint - and then Teric changed direction slightly, charging furiously forward and to the right. He wanted to get as far to the Grandmaster's back, and away from the business end of his polearm, as fast as possible. Teric's shield stayed up, poised in front of the mercenary as he charged, and he aimed the barrier into Zerith's left shoulder. Teric's own shoulder came into the blow behind the shield, powering the shield charge to knock the Grandmaster off his feet even as Teric brought his sword up in his other hand...