Hero Or Mercenary?

[Silence Sei]

One never asked to be what he was; the other was paid to become what he was. One is a profession that a parent would be proud of their child for, the other is a profession a parent would fear their child could become. One fights injustice and the other could be injustice for the right price. So is the difference between hero and mercenary.

These thoughts passed Sei’s mind several times during the Cell. In the massive brawl, the mute had engaged the infamous Teric ‘Bloodrose’ Barton one on one until several interruptions tore them from their fight. Sei had suffered several disadvantages during the fight, the primary one being that he had but one arm. While the mute was capable at only using one appendage to fight (Due to three years of not having his right arm available), it was rather hard to block without the use of both limbs. Especially when it came to someone as powerful and skillful as the Bloodrose.

The Cell ended in Sei dying twice, once involuntarily and the next time to make a legend out of a no-name mage. Sei had managed to learn a lot from the massive onslaught, and met up with some powerful people. The mute had found a couple of his warriors that he had been searching for, and also learned that the great Max Dirks feared the winged mystic. Yet the unfinished fight with Teric Barton ate away at the telepath. He found himself without a real challenge, and had even lashed out at his girls a couple of times. It seemed as though the mute would require some closure, some way to prove who the better warrior was between the Hero of Radasanth and the old veteran warrior.

Then inspiration hit in the form of Dajas Pagoda.

It had been a year or two since anybody had fought in the Pagoda. The once admirable fighting arena now stood abandoned in the middle of Scara Brae. The Pagoda itself held the same healing capabilities of the Citadel, but was used for a much more noble use than the blood sport building. The Pagoda taught newer warriors how to use the blade, how to parry a blow. It was a school much more so than a fighting arena, and it was the whole reason Sei had agreed many years ago to be an instructor for the institution. Sei smiled as he walked into the large building, his mind going down a massive road of nostalgia as he did so. So many lessons were taught during Sei’s stint as a Pagoda Master. He wondered just how many people had learned from Teric Barton as much as they had learned from the mystic himself.

Much like Sei had returned to one of his original ‘homes’, he knew Teric would probably be here soon as well. Old warriors had the tendency to walk down memory lane far more than they would like to admit. Teric would come at least into the vicinity of Dajas Pagoda. Once he got close enough, Sei knew the warrior could feel his blood boiling, the adrenaline from the Cell pumping once more. Teric’s body would tell the old warrior that a worthy challenger was waiting inside for him. Sei just knew it.

Looking around at the dusty first floor of the establishment, Sei smiled. He was sure the magic of the building still worked, but he did not want to choose an arena. This was a straight up fight between two battle hardened warriors. It was a way for two wanting fighters to finish what they had started in the Cell. It was closure, it was an out, it was to prove which profession was better.

Hero Or Mercenary?

[Bloodrose]

The Pagoda - once one of the more revered destinations on the island of Scara Brae - stood now in ruins; a gutted, pathetic shadow of its former self. The once manicured lawns were wild and overgrown after nearly two years of neglect, and a harsh winter had driven up frost heaves under the once flat paving stones lining the path that iron-shod boots now tread. The ringing echo of those footfalls was deadened by the thick vines that had scaled the Pagoda walls these last couple years; a thousand tiny green fingers snaking into cracks in the mortar and between wooden shingles, threatening to tear the building down brick by brick, timber by timber.

Almost unconsciously, Teric hastened his approach, quickening his steps down the cracked, uneven path. Directly in front of him hung open the once locked and boarded door to the abandoned battleground, and just inside that door awaited the challenge a younger, less cynical Teric Barton had come to this place for almost five years ago...

In its heyday, the Dajas Masters that once manned this place had commanded the admiration and imagination of warriors all across the face of Althanas. True, battle-hardened veterans, the Masters existed solely to test the skill and fortitude of any combatant brazen enough to walk through their door. Unlike Radasanth's infamous citadel, the Pagoda was an organized, recognizable mecca of combat. Here you would not find yourself pitted against just any young adventurer with a sword and a dream - and to defeat a Dajas Master meant taking his place in a constantly growing, improving pantheon of warriors.

Or at least... that had been the promise.

Weaklings! Teric spat, his cold blue eyes fixated on the open door. At the age of fifty, the veritably geriatric mercenary had expected (wanted) the Dajas Masters to wipe the floor with him. Constantly striving to grow as a fighter, he'd come to the Pagoda hoping to finally find the warriors that would force him to confront his short-comings. He wanted so badly to lose - just to confirm that there was someone better; someone he could strive to one day defeat.

Instead the opposite had come to pass. Teric Barton, aged and hardened by decades of warfare, had steamrolled through the best the Pagoda had to offer - except for when they failed to even show up to fight. In terms of disappointment, the day the mercenary had been crowned Grandmaster was still to date one of the most frustrating, infuriating days of Teric's life.

But not anymore. Iron rang on stone as Teric mounted the Pagoda's front stairs, his muscles tingling with anticipation as he climbed. He could almost smell the experience left on the air by his predecessor's passing, and could already see in his mind's eye the orange-haired mystic with whom he'd shared a unique moment in the Cell.

That tournament, at long last, had lit something of a fire in Teric. Being tossed into a confined area with several of Althanas' greatest and most renowned warriors had shown the veteran that there were indeed still individuals out there who might surpass him in skill. From the terrifying strength of titans Letho Ravenheart and Godhand Striker, to the devastating magic of mages (cowards) like Elijah Belov - there were still challenges left to face.

The only downside of the Cell then, in Teric mind, was that it hadn't been a very good medium through which to challenge these titans one on one. The chaotic and unpredictable nature of a battlefield like the Cell meant that even the best warrior was hard pressed to commit the full of his attention to a single opponent.

And thus Teric was resolved to hunt them down one by one outside of the Cell - to settle once and for all who was the greatest. Luckily enough, the mercenary didn't have to travel far to confront the first of his challenges...

[Silence Sei]

A smile snaked across Sei’s mystic face. The hairs on his body began to stand on end in anticipation of what was soon the come. The faint smell of lavender perfume tickled at the mute’s nostrils. He had heard rumors of Teric’s vices, one of them being prostitutes, the evidence wafting through the air as if to give the combatants one sweet thing amongst all of the destruction to come. Sei turned towards the opened doors of the Dajas Pagoda, the sound of leather stepping upon the concrete steps leading inwards alerted him of his foe’s approach.

The young mute began to feel a slight tingling in his hands. As he brought his palms to his face, Sei began to notice that he was trembling at the prospect of this battle. Whether this was due to fear of Teric Barton, or due to finally finding an opponent worthy of his unique skill set remained to be seen. The telepath brought his tongue around his top and bottom lip as Teric’s form stepped into the doors of the arena.

The mercenary’s clue orbs rivaled those of Sei’s; both sporting looks that had seen too much for one life time. The silver hair of the grizzled veteran was made much more vibrant due to the sun sinking behind his form. Sei knew that he was already at a tactical disadvantage, the rays from the sun sprinkling occasional light into the eyes of the younger warrior. He knew that Teric could possibly be faster than the mystic, he could have prepared his first move as Sei stood inside waiting. He knew all of these things, but he just simply did not care.

Today was not about strategy, it was not about out-thinking one another. This was going to be a brutal fight with each warrior throwing everything they had at one another. This was a true clash of the titans. This was what so many people would pay a good hard-earned GP to see, but would never get the pleasure. It was a battle between two warriors who had previously fought one another well below half of their capabilities.

This fight was going to shake Dajas Pagoda, if not all of Scara Brae, down to its very core.

Sei’s cloth shoes did not make even the faintest of sounds on the livol floorboards as he made his dash towards Teric. In the few seconds it had taken him to reach his target, Sei had reached to his left hip with his right hand, grabbing the handle of the chakram known as ‘Ter’Thok’. The mute was careful to touch the weapon, as touching the bladed ring in the wrong area would cause the acidic properties of the weapon to take effect. When Sei was upon the form of the Bloodrose, he immediately stopped the majority of his body.

The smaller warrior quickly brought the ring towards the face of his foe. He had not intended to use the weapon as a blade for his initial strike, but as a branding iron. The smooth part of the chakram was heading straight for the mercenary’s distinguished face. It was time to see who would lay the first blow, and Sei had hoped that the acidic properties of Ter’Thok would give him the opening move he needed.

“Let the games begin, Bloodrose!” Sei used his telepathy to send the single message to his opponent.

[Bloodrose]

The orange-haired mystic didn't waste any time posturing or sizing up his opponent. Having fought earlier, albeit briefly under the unusual circumstances of a tournament setting like the Cell, both men already had a feel for one another. Even wounded and exhausted, as they had been then, each man had obviously deciphered enough about the other to interest them in fighting again. Likewise, there seemed almost to be an unspoken agreement between the two of the them to give it all they had - guaranteeing a good fight.

Teric liked that.

Sei crossed the distance between the two fighters with all the speed, grace, and precision of a dancer - his feet nimbly carrying him so quietly that it seemed he walked on air. Each and every movement he made was calm, premeditated, exact. The man didn't waste a single ounce of energy, but at the same time each twitch of a muscle was timed just so to ensure that his weapon of choice would be exactly where he wanted it, when he needed it.

Unfortunately for the mystic, all the control in the world on his part couldn't ensure that Teric would be where he needed him to be.

The Hero's chakram met with nothing but air where Teric's head had been just a second ago. Almost as if he'd vanished only to reappear, Teric flitted into existence some fifteen paces to the left of the doorway coming in. The Pagoda hall's old flooring groaned in protest as a hundred and seventy six pounds of battle-hardened Salvic human suddenly settled in a new spot. Wordlessly, the veteran almost casually drew his sword, at the same time pivoting to face Sei's flank and grin devilishly.

Normally Teric would have toyed with the man a little; metered out his assault in order to prolong the fight. Sei Orlouge, however, was not some random who happened upon the wrong fight in the Citadel. He was a Hero, and as much as the mercenary was beginning to despise hearing that word bandied about, that meant something. What it meant exactly was open to interpretation, but as far as the warrior Barton was concerned it meant not wasting time with pulled punches and half-measures. The mystic would either stand before the mercenary's onslaught, or he would fall. It truly was just as simple as that.

Crossed blades of air exploded forth from in front of Teric, the trailing edges at the four corners tearing furrows in both the floorboards below and in the plaster ceiling above. Splinters, dust, and debris was kicked up in clouds as the deadly fan of air hurtled forward to greet Sei at the doorway. Following closely behind, sword at the ready, was the former Pagoda Grandmaster - more than ready to strike down Radasanth's Hero if the initial attack didn't kill him first...

[Silence Sei]

His bladed ring had met with nothing but the air, a testament to the great speed Teric Barton possessed. Sei smiled and gripped his chakram firmly. It seemed as though close range was going to be more in Teric's field of expertise than the mute's. Sei would have to rely on his mastery over long ranged throwing weapons if he hoped to wear Teric Barton down enough for an all-out melee. Though Teric was the stronger of the two warriors, Sei was more likely the quicker, bringing the battle into a question of strength versus speed.

The creaking of the floorboards beneath Teric's form gave Sei enough warning to know that an attack from behind was imminent. Even as Teric began to slash the air for his trademark attack, Sei was already sprouting his butterfly wings. Vibrant colors of orange graced the telepath's form; black circles were splattered on each rounded part of the appendages, highlighting the distracting blue trimming that covered the edge of the wings. The Mystic was going to need his power of flight in order to evade the coming charge.

The sound of splintering wood filled the once silent room of Dajas Pagoda. Sei wasted no time in leaping into the air, arching his back towards Teric as his body sailed through the room. The back flip was enough to evade the cross slash, if just barely. The x-shaped wind blades flew past Sei, the momentum of the special attack taking several ripped pieces of Sei's karate gi with it. Even upside down, Sei could see the determination in the eyes of the man known as the Bloodrose. Teric had already decided to follow up his technique with a physical attack.

Now, it was Sei's turn.

The Grandmaster's sword swung at the neck of the telepath; a killing blow if the mute had been anyone else. The sheer fact that the veteran had managed to strike forth at Sei in the middle of the latter's back flip caused the Mystic to have even more of an admiration for his opponent. However, the blade was stopped merely inches from its target, though not from lack of trying on Teric's part. Instead, the room echoed once more, this time with a peculiar sound not unlike a person throwing a rock through a window.

As Sei landed, back-to-back with his opponent, several shards of glass scattered over his form. His entire form was covered with the broken fragments in just a couple of seconds. Once the final piece of broken crystal appeared, all of them shot forth through the room. The floor, ceiling, and walls were swiftly hit by the fast-moving counter-attack. Before the Mystic Protection spell had finished hitting the whole of the arena, Sei was spinning around towards where Teric had been running forth moments earlier. The hero threw his chakram towards the older man, hoping his own signature move was enough to pull Teric's attention away from Sei's true motive.

This man was proving himself to be the greatest 'mercenary' Sei had ever met.

[Bloodrose]

He landed right behind me. The mercenary found himself thinking. To the observer it might have seemed innocuous enough, but Teric read the subtext well. The fancy acrobatics, the landing spot at his back mere inches away, the calm, cool confidence; the mystic was trying to tell him something. He's not afraid of me.

A window pane shattered - or at least it sounded as if one had - and Teric didn't even have time to properly turn and face Sei before crystalline shrapnel peppered the room. Instinctively, the older warrior brought his free arm up to protect his face - at the same time bending over forward and staggering away from the sudden hailstorm in surprise. Razor sharp bits of glass whizzed by like a hundred angry hornets, but fortunately for the mercenary they held about as much sting. Vlince is a tough enough fabric to cut through with a knife, so the vast majority of the shrapnel meant for his flesh pattered harmlessly off Teric's wardrobe. For once, the conservative attire that covered every inch of skin but his hands and face served the Grandmaster well in an area other than fashion...

What was th- The blast over, Teric lowered his arm and turned to face his mystic opponent. However, he didn't even get a chance to finish his thought before the Hero's chakram hit him on the left side of his chest. The mercenary let out a surprised little grunt - the sort of sound a man makes when he gets sucker-punched - but the involuntary noise was muffled by the sound of the chakram clattering harmlessly to the floor. Looking down, Teric found that the sharpened edge of the Hero's weapon had punched a thin slit through both vest and shirt, revealing the shiny white mythril of the mercenary's chainmail underneath.

He threw my own combo right back at me. The Grandmaster was thinking. Air rushed out his nose as he exhaled, and Teric made a point of inhaling back through the nose as well. He wasn't winded yet, not by a long-shot, but their battle had gotten off to a hard, fast start. Seeing as each man had weathered the first three exchanges with nary a scratch, pacing was going to become increasingly important; especially since Teric was on the wrong side of a thirty year age gap. Brute strength and endurance could carry a man a long ways, but Teric had learned long ago never to discount the natural advantages of youth. Evade, diversionary tactic, counter-attack. I'm going to have to do something special to take this one down...

"I really liked this shirt." Teric sighed, breaking the silence that had thus far reigned between the two men. A harmless enough comment on its own, but the veteran was simply trying to induce a momentary lull in the fighting. One not only for conversation, but also for strategizing.

[Silence Sei]

Teric Barton was not the only one breathing heavily now. Sei's chest roses up and down rapidly, almost mimicing the rythym of his opponent. There was a strange quiet in the room, and the dust was quickly starting to settle on the gound once more. Just as quickly as the two had started their conflict, so now did they both pause to recuperate. It was obvious that each man wanted to fight the other at their best. If that meant temporary lulls in activity, then so be it.

The words of the mercenary caused the younger warrior to crack a smile. The smile quickly turned into a mute chuckle, and then a full on silent laugh. The ridiculous nature of the comment threw the Mystic for a loop, and apparently the laughter was contagious. Sei could hear his opponent letting out a laugh as well, though not one quite as hearty as Sei's, and probably due to the fact that no sound was escaping the telepath's mouth as he did so. Sei looked back at his foe, his face now only formed into a half smile.

"What do you say we get you another after this. My treat." The mute's offer was genuine, as he had not had this level of fun in a long time.

"Sounds good," Teric retorted, his own wrinkled features once again turning more serious, "If either of us are still standing by the end of it."

Sei nodded his reply, eyeing Teric once over to see if the man had recovered thoroughly enough. Teric nodded, and Sei's mind went straight into strategizing the next move...

[Bloodrose]

There was something uniquely disturbing about hearing Sei's words resonating around inside his skull, so Teric found himself trying to keep the wary edge out of his voice as they bantered. It wasn't so much that the mute could project his words into the thoughts of others that made the mercenary uncomfortable; instead it was the unanswered question regarding whether or not that was all the mystic could do. With his speed and obvious skill, Sei Orlouge was dangerous enough without being able to read the thoughts of his opponents.

But, assuming he can't read my thoughts.

The mercenary's mind was racing like a well-oiled gnomish engine - fabricating modes of attack and then discounting them just as quickly as he could conceive a decent counter. Thus far the mystic had already shown that speed was just as much an integral part of his fighting style as it was Teric's, so the plans that relied too heavily on a speed advantage went first. Next came the plans where Teric utilized his underplayed strength to subdue or otherwise push around his somewhat slimmer opponent. Like the first plans, however, those all relied on getting close enough (requiring speed) to get a hand on the slippery mystic.

I need to catch him by surprise. Teric was finally forced to draw as the only conclusion. Conceptually, catching someone off-guard was always a brilliant strategy; the element of surprise was responsible for more lop-sided victories than any other cause combined. Realistically, however, getting someone off-guard once they already know a fight is on (or otherwise surprising a talented opponent in general) was a lot harder to actually pull off then most cared to realize. To pull it off reliably, one had to have a hell of a trick hidden up their sleeve...

Teric's empty left hand came up in a snap, palm opened outwards, and in a flash the room was awash with a blinding white light. Almost as quickly as the light flared and dimmed, while the dust shook with the concussive thunder-clap that accompanied it, Teric once again flit in and out of existence. Like a boxer taking center-control of the ring, the veteran's quickstep carried him into the open space on Sei's left flank - essentially cornering the mystic against the wall.

In theory...

The plan Teric had formulated while the two exchanged pleasantries hinged entirely on the mute being temporarily blinded by the shock-and-awe light show that was the mercenary's signature diversion. Assuming Sei believed the mercenary to still be in front of him, and with the wall on his right flank, the mystic would look to the rear or the left for escape. Doubly assuming that the Hero of Radasanth wouldn't backpedal blindly, Teric was counting on the man moving to his left - directly into the veteran's new position. The plan relied pretty heavily on speculation, but the veteran took some measure of solace in the fact that Sei was an excellent fighter.

...I'm an excellent fighter, and moving towards the open is what I would do in his shoes.

It was hard to disguise the heavy pounding of his iron-shod boots hitting the Pagoda floor as Teric bull-rushed the hopefully blinded (and possibly blindsided) mystic, sword at the ready.

[Silence Sei]

All the while, Teric and Sei both strategized plans in their head. They were equal in terms of speed, or at least close enough to one another that neither held a true advantage over the other. Physical strength, on the other hand, was where Teric was most comfortable. Sei's body let out a shudder as it recalled the massive blows Teric had delivered to him during the Cell. Each hit from the veteran had felt like a bag of cinder blocks wrapped in adamantine and covered in Rootwalker bark. Likewise, with each hit the mute had landed to the mercenary's face, Sei had been sure one of his knuckles broke. He still had a case of minor arthritis from that encounter.

Sei squeezed hard with each individual finger one at a time, letting out light pops in the air, and relieving just a bit of the ache the remembrance had caused. As the mute did this, Teric illuminated the room with a light not unlike those see before meeting their end. Sei's eyes widened (which did -not- help, all things considered), and stumbled backwards, slashing at the air with his swords. The mute was almost certain that Teric had managed to get off one advanced technique and the battle had ended, Sei being not only the loser, but at death's door as well. The mute continued to fight despite these thoughts, hoping he could prolong the demise he thought he had already met.

Once the light subsided, Sei breathed a little easier, but the sudden change had caused his pupils to dilate, causing the Mystic to remain blind and continue swinging his sword. Luckily for Sei, one of the Gemini blades hit the other wall running perpendicular with the one his back was now to. Even with the thudding of Teric's boots on the rickety boards, Sei could not determine where the older man's point of attack was going to be. The Mystic had to resign that it was better to flee in this case than to fight. Just like Teric had predicted, Sei gave up swinging his sword futilely and dove to the left, straight into whatever plan the battle scarred warrior was hatching.

As Sei made the motion, his pupils began to adjust once more to the darkness of the Pagoda. He could not see Teric in front of him, which meant that the Mystic was probably about to get a heavy blow dealt to him. The mute closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable strike, hoping it would not hurt half as bad as it did in the Cell.