Dark Trap Cube Labyrinth

[OPEN]

It hadn't occured to William to bring a torch with him into the Citadel. Because of course it hadn't. Why would it? How many times had William fought in the Citadel? Countless. And how many of those arenas had been lightless, trap-filled iron labyrinth's? After today the sum total would be sitting pretty at one. William grumbled to himself as he hoisted himself onto the ledge of this cube room and slipped through the doorway into the next. Sure he'd fought in dark arenas before, and yes he'd asked the Ai'Brone monks for a challenge, but this was frustrating even by his standards. At least he had the small mercy of having a hint of light by transforming into his war form.

He spotted the pressure panel on the floor a moment before his clawed foot came down on it. He froze immediately, slowly eyeing the plate until he was sure that he wouldn't trigger whatever it was attached to when he put his foot down. Normally he would trust his destructive enlightenment to show him the breaks and faults where the trap triggers were. In this arena though, the craftsmanship and magic of the monks made it next to impossible for him to detect the various traps in that manner. And that was just the mechanical ones. The first trap that he'd trippered had apparently been heat based.

The monks must have known that William would have no recourse but to use his war form's molten aura to light his way through their maze and had planned for him to run into the trap immediately. The moment that he'd stepped into the trapped room, the heat of his war form had started melting some wax panels that had been molded to look like the room's rusty iron walls. As the wax had melted, a series of barbed spikes had fired from behind the panel and had stabbed into William's neck and shoulder. It had hurt like hell to tear them free, but William's regenerative powers had sealed the wounds. He supposed it was a cruel form of training on the rules of the arena.

Now that he knew what to look for, William could see that this entire room was filled with a variety of pressure plates. Rather than take his chances, William cautiosly hauled himself back up over the lip of the passage that led back to the previous room. It was one of six similar passages that each room had. Every room that William had seen was the same cube shape, and the passeges between them were all located in the center of the walls, the floor, and the ceiling.

He couldnt' go back the way he'd come from, and William couldn't go through the passage to the room with all the trap plataes. That left two other wall, the ceiling, and the floor. William walked to the center of the room and looked down into the looming passage beneath him. He tried to spy what he could from the room below but the darkness was overwhelming. Sighing, he lowered himself to the ground in preparation to drop the ten feet or so down into the lower room.

Hopefully he ran into his opponent soon. He really, truly felt the need to kill someone.

Lorenor looked at the list of combatants waiting to appease The Thayne of War. One name in particular...stood out to The Paladin and brought back a rush of memories. I've fought that man before...back in a past life. I'm certain of it. Lorenor pointed to the name.

"William Arcus." A hushed set of whispers came from the group of combatants that were waiting in the reception area. "That one."

The Monk behind that desk had a wide eyed expression for a long moment. "My lord?" The Monk proceeded to protest. "I am not certain that is a wise idea...he is quite strong that Revenant you see."

Lorenor shook his head. "Spare me your concern." Lorenor said and continued. "I have fought and beaten him before...I think...I need to challenge myself anyway."

"Be mindful of that arena we constructed for him. It's a death trap." The Monk warned.

"Then I shall take him down with me. Light willing." Lorenor said carefully. Lorenor gathered the information of the combat arena and proceeded to venture forward.

***

The Darkness. Making things relatively difficult to see within the arena itself...Lorenor sighed. He allowed the warmth of The Holy Light to fill his undead physique and calm himself. He knew William had grown strong since their last meaning...but in some ways...so had Lorenor. In his time, Lorenor left behind the curse that N'Jal had placed on him. Further...he'd evolved into something beyond what his mind could comprehend. His body glowed with the energies of The Holy Light. Around him he saw darkened black walls, and nearly straight walls and a ceiling of maddening height. Some of the hallways contained odd angles at their structure. Lorenor had seen such places before. It's an actual relic...like what The Thaynes often construct. I must be careful when I hunt William. Lorenor saw that certain of the panels on the floor and walls were oddly shaped, indented. He made a mental note of those. Likely traps...I must be careful...but when I find William...I must defeat him.

Lorenor walked off into the hallway proceeding to search for William. He did not have any sense of direction, or depth. He only knew that he was inside of the relic itself. Ultimately, he was at the mercy of the cube. As he moved, he moved carefully making sure he didn't accidentally trigger any of the many traps that were within the cube itself. Something on one of the walls caught his eyes. They were eldritch runes that seemed familiar to him...writings from the many volumes of The Thayne Codex. Lorenor's initial suspicions were correct. We're inside a Thayne relic...perhaps...this place has a deeper meaning... Lorenor made his way through the passages and hallways of the cube as he searched for William Arcus.

How big is this place...? Lorenor had to wondered. He stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts. He looked at the information The Monk gave him on the combat arena. As he looked at the forms...he noticed something was odd about the documents and vellum. In blood, was written the phrase...You are Trapped... over and over...filling up the expanse of the pages. Lorenor sighed. Damned Monks... He'd memorized some of the information he'd initially seen. He should have known The Monks would play their tricks on him...

Lorenor took the documents and placed them back in his packs. He would throw it back in The Monk's faces later on...

And so The Hunt began.

Though he tried to be quiet as he dropped into the room beneath him, William found that intentions didn’t always match reality. He was skilled and agile, but there was nothing that he could do to cushion the noise that snapped out when the bone carapace on his legs smacked the steel plated floor of the room below. William instantly went still, listening to the echo of the crack spreading from one room to another. He continued to wait even once the noise had died down, listening for any sign that his noise had been heard.

Nothing.

Sighing, William relaxed and looked around. The dim glow of his molten core was barely enough to illuminate the room but there wasn’t much to see. This room looked exactly the same as every other room in the maze that William had crossed. He wasn’t sure if it was a lack of imagination on the monks’ part or simply something that they didn’t think mattered in the pitch black environment. Or perhaps it was just another trap to confuse him so that he’d be more likely to stumble into one of the cube’s many death traps. Probably a bit of all three, but William guessed the third option was the most likely.

William took a step into the room, trying to peer through the dark portal which led to the next room on this floor. It was a futile task but still he didn’t let up. If there was any chance that he was going to get out of this alive he knew that he’d need to keep his wits about him and plan his moves well in advance.

Three steps into the room William realized that he’d made a mistake. A sharp metallic whine filled the room. Instinct kicked in and William turned without thinking and dove headlong into the dark hole in the center of the room. It was another ten foot drop to the next floor down and it would hurt to slam into the rusty steel plates at this speed but it was far better than the alternative.

Only the revenant’s supernaturally enhanced speed allowed him to clear the room before the trap went off. Even so, he felt a slight tug on the end of his warscythe as he fell into the abyss. He caught a flash of silver as the glistening wire tightened overhead, a mesh which spun across the chamber with dizzying speed.

William grunted in pain as his shoulder connected with the steel of the room below. Something inside the joint gave way with a burst of pain and he bit down hard to keep from crying out. He lay stunned for a moment and then rolled over, letting his regeneration wash away the pain in his shoulder and savoring the taste of blood on the back of his tongue. The pain faded quickly and William grudgingly pushed himself to his feet, glaring up at the trapped room above.

“Too damned close,” William grumbled, lifting the haft of his scythe and looking at where the trap wire had caught it. To his surprise the magically hardened stone had been cut clean through, leaving nothing but a polished smooth angle a hand span above where the bottom of the weapon had been only moments before. If he had been any slower, or if he hadn’t possessed his supernatural speed, William knew that he would have been caught up in that wire and been cut to ribbons.

Another sound reached William as he glared into the darkness overhead. There was someone nearby, he realized, and there was no way that his plunge hadn’t been heard. William eyed the room around him, wondering if this room was trapped as well.

Lorenor's eyes narrowed as a figure came cashing into the chamber from somewhere above.

Lorenor held his weapon at the ready and sighed then he stepped forward. Stopping a few paces away from William Arcus. Memories flooded his mind...memories of a past life...a past self. "William Arcus." Lorenor said calmly. "It has been a long time, old friend." The old Paladin, Lorenor, was different in his current life. He was still Undead, but at the same note The Holy Light had evolved him into something far greater. "I see you have grown considerably stronger." Lorenor added.

The memories were still flooding into his mind.

The other battle, Lorenor had barely pulled out a victory against the formidable foe. But it was a different Lorenor, at a different evolutionary cycle. Lorenor held his weapon at the ready but before that he nodded a respectful greeting towards William Arcus. "You've aged well." Lorenor said calmly, there was no malice in his voice. "The Monks tried to talk me out of fighting against you. But me and you have unfinished business." Lorenor explained. Lorenor held his claymore with one hand at that point and noticed William held a long-hafted Scythe as his primary weapon.

"Tell me, Revenant. Are you ready for battle?" Lorenor smiled at that point, and his body began to glow with the powers of The Holy Light.

“Lorenor,” William’s words betrayed his surprise. He had faced dozens of opponents in the Citadel and would be hard pressed to remember even a tenth of them. But there was no way that he'd ever forget his fight with the undead warrior. It was the first time that William had found himself completely outclassed by an opponent and it had left an impression that was very likely the reason William had sought to strengthen himself in match after match. William grinned. Lorenor was a better than he could have hoped for in these dark, rusted tunnels.

He shifted weight, assuming a guarded combat stance and looked Lorenor over with a discerning eye. He had changed a great deal since the last time he’d been face-to-face with the mutant and it quickly became apparent that Lorenor had changed just as much. But just as the years had strengthened William and transformed him into a powerful combatant, time seemed to have changed Lorenor’s form even more. Gone was the aura of dark strength that William had come to associate with him memory of Lorenor. Instead, he faced a holy creature who was still in the early stages of gathering his strength.

“Interesting,” he growled.

When they’d first faced each other, William had done so with nothing but his claws and his rage. He looked down at the sundered warscythe in his hand. The wire trap in the room above had cleaved the counter-weight off the end of the weapon and William didn’t need his destructive enlightenment to tell that the weapon was little more than a heavy, unwieldy hacking instrument at the moment. Even a blunt hunk of wood was a deadly instrument in his hands the match of even a magnificent blade, but there was something poetic in having his weapon taken away from him when made to stand in front of his old foe.

William turned a savage grin in Lorenor’s direction and tossed the blade down the dark pit in the center of the room. Lorenor had done something similar in their first encounter, only he’d simply dropped his sword at his feet. William had tried to take advantage of that by taking the blade for himself. As much as he wanted to mirror that encounter, his warscythe’s enchantment was far too dangerous to leave for a complete reversal of fate.

“I’m ready now, dead man,” William said and then charged at his foe.

Memories from a past life flashed in the mutant paladin's mind.

The weapon clinging on the ground reminded Lorenor of something he'd done once. In their past meeting...something...fitting. He has honour I must honour in exchange. Deciding that fair was fair, Lorenor sheathed his claymore back in it's scabbard and eyed William.

William became as a blur moving rapidly towards Lorenor. The old Paladin carefully reacted and felt his energy lighting up around his body, The Holy Light. No sound, no noise no screams. Merely purely instinctive reaction. They had met a long time ago under far different circumstances. Lorenor reached forward as The Revenant came crashing in and simply reacted. His hands and his body flared up with the tremendous weight of The Holy Light. He reached forward in an attempt to grab at William's face and Smite him at point-blank range. It was a bold reaction to a dangerous opponent, but he wanted to have the upper hand early. Only decisive action would win the battle.

Lorenor's hands glowed brightly and he stood in place as he released his power towards the general direction of William's face. The Smite would be extremely dangerous if his opponent harboured Evil, The Darkness, in his heart. Lorenor accepted the full on tackle as William came crashing in. Ribs broke, but the mutant could function with his faith. He just wanted to be certain that he'd effectively burned William just as effectively.

When the exchange was over, Lorenor found himself on the floor, sliding several paces away. He's grown strong and fast. This will be a difficult test but I have Faith. He does not. Blood already trickled down the side of Lorenor's mouth. BLACK blood...the sign of Undeath. Lorenor's body ached from the initial tackle but he was certain William would be worse off. Lorenor wiped the blood off the side of his face. Gotta make every moment count...the longer this goes on... Lorenor shook his head. "How's your face William?" Lorenor taunted and smiled calmly.

[bunnying approved]

It was refreshing to for William to engage with someone on his own level for once. Lorenor was just as savage as he remembered throwing his own weapon away so that the two of them could claw and crush one another like the monsters they were. Their last fight had started similarly, but neither man was the same as they'd been those long years ago.

William slammed into Lorenor, savoring the feel of the creature's body giving way beneath him. Something inside the undead snapped and the chamber filled with the smell of old, sluggish blood. True to his nature, Lorenor stoically accepted the crashing attack and simply bore down into it, hammering on the side of William's head with heavy fists. The punishing blows blazed with radiant energy which burned hotly against William's charred flesh.

Demonic was a phrase often attributed to the revenant. The truth of it was that he'd only earned that moniker for the twisted way he looked and not for possessing any true demonic heritage. Still, evil is evil, and William had committed enough atrocities to earn that title a thousand times over. While he held no particular weakness to Lorenor's holy smite, the attack still struck him with its full force.

It had been a long time since anything had burned William and he found the sensation oddly frustrating. He staggered, letting Lorenor slump away from him without a follow-up attack. When they'd first fought, Lorenor had landed a similar blow, minus the holy light, and it had crushed William's skull like an egg. This time the searing punch had savages a good chunk of flesh from his temple across to the top of the ridge of his right eye. Annoyingly, what remained of his ear swung lightly by a thin strip of flesh. It was quite distracting.

William spat at Lorenor's feet, noting that his mouth had somehow filled with the bright molten blood that flowed through his veins. It sizzled where it struck the rusty floor grating.

"I've had worse," he said in reply to Lorenor's taunt. Normally William found amiable chatting in the middle of a fight horribly offensive, but this time he found himself rather enjoying the ordeal. Besides, it gave his regenerative powers a chance to start repairing the damage that Lorenor's attack caused.

"A little trade-off for first blood," he continued. "But given that I'm feeling generous, I think you've earned a little something for the effort." William blurred into motion, pulling the loose tattered bit of his ear free with a sharp pop and threw it towards Lorenor. Covered in molten blood as it was, even that scrap of flesh could be dangerous. But hurting Lorenor with an errant scrap of flesh wasn't William's intent. The moment Lorenor's eyes flicked from him to the makeshift missile, William lunged forward again. His clawed hand gripped the front of Lorenor's leather jerkin. With his supernatural strength and speed it was easy for William to simply lift his opponent and, with a push, hurl the creature through the portal behind him into the dark room beyond.

William didn't know if that particular room held a trap but it didn't really matter. If there was a trap and Lorenor died, then he won. If Lorenor survived then their little back-and-forth would go on just a little longer. He was starting to have fun.

Memories poured in the old Paladin's mind.

More images, thoughts and feeling.

The other time he met William Arcus. Lorenor strangely found himself laughing at the situation at hand. He knew he was greatly outmatched, but he would take his fate like a Man. Loenor landed with a crashing thud in the room further ahead. He laid there for a moment or a two gathering himself. But the laughter, the old laughter remained. He stood up slowly at that point...managing to stand up to his full height again. William was already upon him at that point, and Lorenor was prepared.

He continued his command of The Holy Light, feeling the comforting energies pour through his broken vessel. Blood freely poured from his mouth at that point. But Lorenor felt no pain. He was already numb from the broken ribs. He didn't know how he would continue going in, but he had Faith. And that was all that mattered to the old Paladin. Lorenor's eyes glowed brightly as William was upon him again. At that point, Lorenor struck out again. William came dashing forward....

Like striking a Steel door...

A statue made of marble...

Many thoughts cascaded in his mind. But he stood stalwart, brave, defiant. His power coursed through his hands one time and he held both fists together. He swung upward towards William's neck at that point for a quick moment, attempting to use the man's momentum against him. He's fast...but if I can just time this correct...I might buy myself more time. With glowing hands, his power focused with pin point and lethal intent, he aimed for the man's neck.

He swung upward attempting to intercept the man...

William charged after Lorenor, his molten blood hammering in his ears. But even with his battle lust raging, William was remembered that the labyrinth itself was also their opponent this day and he slowed in the doorway to the next chamber. He didn’t pause long, only long enough to check that Lorenor’s entry hadn’t triggered another of the maze’s traps, and then resumed his charge.

Brief as the pause was however, it was long enough for the mutant to get his feet back under him. Lorenor met William’s second charge with unflinching calm, summoning his holy light a second time and thundering upwards at him in a two-fisted strike that would be enough to take William’s head clean off if it connected. There weren’t many warriors of Lorenor’s type left in the Citadel, men who chose to gamble everything on a single strike when facing a superior foe rather than fleeing and attempting to maneuver something else to their advantage. William had always been of that sort himself, and he’d always respected that fighting spirit. But then, he thought, any wounds inflicted on him would be healed by his regenerative ability. Perhaps there was a reason he was one of the last stand-and-fight types.

As experienced as William was, he knew that there were half a dozen ways he could block or dodge Lorenor’s attack and retaliate with a mortal or crippling blow. But the crimson rage was boiling inside him now, the old berserker’s joy of slaughter. A hint of the old William was beginning to spill through the gaps of his control and he was interested to see just how much of it his old enemy could draw out.

Instead of striking out with a killing blow to end the fight early, William instead relied on a flash of insight from the training he’d gone through with one of his mentors. The mystic giant, Steppenwolf Orlouge, had possessed an eccentric demeanor and a ridiculous fighting style, but the man had also been a master strategist and had been one of the few who really understood just what William had been capable of. One of the ridiculous moves that he’d taught William had been a move called Snapping Turtle Bites The Gracious Hand That Feeds It, a name that William always suspected was more a dig at him than a proper name for the maneuver. William remembered Snapping Turtle, as he much more sanely called it, but never found himself in a situation in which it would be useful. Surprisingly, this was exactly that.

William executed Snapping Turtle, which consisted of clamping down on the floor as hard as he could with the claws on his feet to anchor himself while at the same time twisting his hips one way and his shoulders the other. All of this while bending his knees as sharply as he could. This had the effect of completely annihilating any sort of balance or control that William had over his own motion, but it also whipped him into a low horizontal position that maintained most of the momentum of his charge.

Snapping Turtle did as intended and turned William from a charging man into a low flying missile weapon. The advantage of Snapping Turtle over simply performing a leaping tackle was that the maneuver dropped his body instantly rather than arcing forwards slowly. The downside was that it put him so low that the only place he would be able to physically strike Lorenor to any effect would be the knees. Still it was better than taking an explosive uppercut to the jaw.

He punched out the instant he dropped under the level of Lorenor’s devastating punch in a two-fisted strike of his own. William balled his clawed hands into tight fists, coming in at Lorenor’s knees like a freely swinging battering ram. It was only at this point that William noticed the looming darkness immediately behind Lorenor. William closed his eyes and gritted his teeth with the knowledge that he was about to take another unprepared dive down another fifteen foot drop, regardless of whether he struck Lorenor or not. He could only hope that he managed to take Lorenor with him.

It...

It all happened very quickly. Strangely, he didn't feel pain at that point But rather his thoughts had gone to that of an old ally. Sei Orlouge. While the old Hero had been looking for an Artifact of N'Jal origin, he stumbled across Lorenor in one of his past selves. One of many past selves, across time...space...all the dimensions and alternate realities of Althanas. Seeing William Arcus perform that Orlouge technique put a smile on his face. He's grown strong since the last time... Lorenor's hammer-hand style attack completely missed it's mark when William struck him in point-blank range.

The Snapping Turtle technique met it's mark. Very few combatants could best a Orlouge technique of martial skill. Lorenor was knocked backwards and sent flying back several paces, tumbling and rolling like a rag doll. Like so much trash.

Yet despite that...the fucker smiled. Through all the pain he currently felt, he could not help but feel tremendous pleasure. Another set of memories passed through his mind and he recalled his only relationship with the Vampire named Urei. Lorenor saw the man's face for a moment in his mind, and it gave him strength to keep going. "That's an Orlouge technique. Fucker...wasn't expecting that shit." Lorenor managed to stand up at that point after that, driven by the strength of The Holy Light. At that point, the mad laughter returned. It had been a long time since the last time that Lorenor had truly been able to cut loose.

And let every ounce of frustrations, and a long list of failures erupt in his mind. So Lorenor allowed himself the pleasure of simply feeling pain. It was real, one of the truest of emotions. Pain was very close to love. "There is love, and emotion in your attacks. You've changed...William Arcus." It was oft said that you ever only knew someone when you FOUGHT them at with no holds barred. Lorenor respected the monster before him...he respected the man's strength. And before him, in the eyes of William Arcus...Lorenor had not seen something disgusting. No...he saw true beauty there. Lurking beyond the maddening rage. Lorenor began to walk forward and towards William. "Let us continue this dance." Lorenor said. "My old friend. Would you go back to a world...that shuns you and I? Loathes what we have become?"

"Let us show these foolish worshipers of Blood and War what it truly means to fight...and DIE on the mantles of blood." On the verge of death, Lorenor lost all pretense of sanity. One of his glowing blue eyes was blood-shot and enlarged. Bleeding black blood. His body was broken and in incredible amounts of pain. But still, the old Paladin had not stopped wanting to fight. He would never give in...not one ounce to the warrior before him...or ANY warrior. Lorenor was undeniably hurt. Several broken ribs, limping, one arm completely tattered and in ruins. Still. He stood, still he would fight. A fire burned in his undead heart. Just like William...Lorenor was ALSO a monster. And fight they WOULD...

The attack struck true, but rather than be driven back into the looming darkness behind him, Lorenor twisted enough at the last second to ensure that the Snapping Turtle strike bounced him to one side. Without Lorenor’s mass to stop the momentum of his charge, William had little choice but to prepare himself as the darkness of the pit claimed him. From his previous experiences dropping floors within the maze, William knew that the next ledge down would only be a dozen or so feet beneath him. He braced himself for the shock of yet another hard stop. Luckily he’s become quite proficient at being slammed into the ground at break-neck speeds.

The glow of his molten core illuminated the rusted iron edge of the next floor only a moment before it crashed into William. He tucked in on himself as best as he could and dutifully bore the blow as he landed. William’s breath caught as he rebounded from the iron like a child’s doll and sailed half a dozen feet into the chamber below. He did his best to hope that this room, like the one above, held no traps. But the sound of ceramic cracking beneath his body told William that his luck had run out.

An acrid scent washed over William as he struggled to rise. Every movement felt like his body had been encased in solid stone and it took a moment for him to realize that the breath which had been knocked out of him was still gone. Mastering his animal panic, William pushed himself upright and calmed himself before taking a deep breath.

That proved to be almost as bad an idea as plunging down into the lower level had been. His bouncing descent had shattered the floor in several places where thin ceramic tiles had been disguised as the chamber’s normal rusted iron plates. A toxic liquid was seeping through the cracks in the ceramic plates and the liquid was steaming quite thickly into the air around William. He coughed, involuntarily as his first breath filled his lungs with acid rather than air, and then scrambled back to the central shaft as quickly as he could manage. He struggled to draw breath as he moved but inflating his chest felt as much like trying to swim through stone as trying to move his heavy limbs. William spied greenish-black droplets of the caustic liquid spattered across the bone carapace on his limbs and had no doubt about the reason why he was feeling the way he was.

Lorenor was snarling something at him from the chamber above and William forced himself to look up at the mutant. There was a delighted lack of sanity in the blazing eyes that stared down at him and even battered Lorenor maintained an imposing figure. A spasm wracked William’s body and he was forced to turn away from his opponent. He was unsurprised to see solid chunks of dark, wet meat spattered on the ground after the coughing fit subsided.

William chided himself for allowing the thrill of the fight to overtake him. True it was the ultimate pleasure for him, but in doing so had lost awareness of the maze’s dangers. He’d come a long way in mastering his feral nature since last facing Lorenor and yet he’d simply thrown that all to the wind when the first opportunity arose. He could feel his regenerative powers striving against the poisonous acid eating away at him, but he couldn’t be certain that it would be enough. And even if his regeneration was capable of restoring him there was no chance that it could do so before Lorenor attacked again. In a way, William felt like he deserved this fate.

He was close to finished, but he wasn’t completely out if it yet. Lorenor had stopped ranting for the moment and William forced himself to look up at the undead creature again. If he was going to die again at Lorenor’s hands it would be a death that the mutant would have to earn. Mustering what strength he could manage, William drew forth his power and concentrated it into a single point and then hurled that energy up at Lorenor in an explosive magma shot.

Something had changed since their last meaning.

A fundamental change that made Lorenor who he was meant to be. The magma blast William Arcus burnt through the air, sizzling and hot, shot at Lorenor. Lorenor took it dead on in a surprising show of endurance and psychotic frenzy of his own. Though in his hysteria and sheer amount of pain he felt, he powered through the attack as it happened. Normal folks would have been burnt to ash. But Lorenor's sheer survival instincts had saved him that time, he would not be able to handle a second blast. Instead Lorenor made his way down to the lower chamber, jumping down as best as he could in his injured state. He fell to one knee at that point, his flesh scarred and burnt horribly. One arm was useless to him. One of his eyes was several sizes too big, and blood-shot

He noticed that William Arcus was also hurt badly, the mad sprint through several traps and several floors had left his friend really hurt. Lorenor limped forward after having jumped down from the floor above. He was in a lot of pain, but he was still conscious. As long as The Holy Light could hold him intact, he would continue to fight. But...The Holy Light compelled Lorenor to a different mission. At the time, he didn't know for what purpose The Holy Light showed him this mystery. He only knew that it had. Lorenor felt an instinctive to desire to SAVE William Arcus. He could not bring himself to destroy the warrior a second time, regardless of the fact that the fellow would likely not show him any mercy.

William Arcus reminded Lorenor too much of The Vampire Urei. There was a similarity there, a complex driving force acting beyond what Lorenor could comprehend at that point. "William...I want you to live." Lorenor suddenly said. "I know you're hurt...likely dying too...but in this case...I want you to live." Lorenor understood, in his insanity what The Holy Light wanted of him. Lorenor reached out with a hand extended towards William Arcus. "I am going to sacrifice myself so you can live." Lorenor said as if that didn't matter one bit. He said it because it was the harsh truth of the moment.

He knew his old friend was hurt, and that was all that mattered to him at that precise moment. "I have the power to save you." With that, The Old Paladin did the unthinkable. As he had sacrificed himself during The Demon's War, he sacrificed himself once again to safe a friend. "Remember me...always." Lorenor suddenly said. And used the full extent of The Holy Light directly on himself in a brilliant showing of power. He was transferring the purification, healing nature of The Holy Light over towards William Arcus. At the cost of his own life. Lorenor strangely did not cry in pain or in agony. He merely smiled at William as his body was disintegrated. Lorenor burned up in ash as was the nature of his Undeath. His hand finally reaching forward and touching William Arcus to transfer the energy of his very SOUL to heal The Revenant. it was not an attack, but rather a chance to save his friend and further redeem himself.

***

Lorenor woke up next in Healing Wards of The Citadel.

He was in a warm bed and he sighed heavily, The Healers of The Order were working on him night and day to restore him. One of The Monks was looking at The Old Paladin. "What you did was very foolish." The Monk said as Lorenor woke up.

"Perhaps." Lorenor responded. "But he needed my help, more ways than one." Lorenor knew that at that point William Arcus had been in pain, he was suffering. But his suffering was deeper than the traps of the cube. There was something hidden there, behind those rage filled eyes. Lorenor had tasted that suffering for a long moment whilst they fought. He also knew from personal experience that you ever only knew someone when you fought them in battle. "It is the nature of My Code to help those in need, regardless of the circumstances." Lorenor said, he felt a tremendous amount of pain at that point. However, he would recover in time. And would be ready to face the next challenge that Fate through his way.

"When you recover, I would like a word with you. Paladin." The Monk said, and left the chamber.

Leaving Lorenor alone with The Healers.

Lorenor sighed and went back to sleep...

~FIN~

“Spirit’s damnation,” William thought. His tried to actually speak the words but it simply caused a wracking spasm to ripple through him. He coughed and spat out more dark, glistening chunks of the ruined things that he called his lungs and then looked back to Lorenor.

The explosive shot had damaged the undead thing severely, but in the end it still hadn’t been enough to bring him down. William slumped to his knees as Lorenor dropped down to join him. There was almost more searing holy light in the Lorenor’s silhouetted outline than there was solid mass, and yet his enemy persisted. Despite his predicament, William found himself grinning through the patina of blood painting his face. The two of them were very similar, each proud and unwilling to yield. It was what had made this fight so enjoyable. He wouldn’t shame their conflict by releasing himself and admitting defeat at the end of it. If Lorenor could stand, so could he.

Fighting back against the terrible pain that filled him, William stood. He grimaced and prepared to die once again at Lorenor’s hands. He was vaguely aware that the mutant was talking to him, proclaiming some judgement or other against William. All of that had faded to background noise in the aftermath of the acidic pain that was consuming him. William noticed, with an odd detachment, that his charred skin had started to slough off where the liquid had splashed on him. So much for his regenerative capabilities.

“Get it together,” he chided himself, pulling his focus back to Lorenor. For some reason the mutant hadn’t killed him yet. And it took a confused moment for William to figure out why. Years before he’d seen and barely restrained power and fury lurking behind the Lorenor’s eyes. Now he was surprised to see that though the power remained, the fury had become a deep and compelling well of compassion. He’d thought that the two of them were repeating the same vicious blow-by-blow that they’d gone through all those years ago. And for him that was true. He’d reveled in the release of reverting to his primal self, unanswerable to anything but the roar of slaughter in his ears and the desire for destruction in his chest.

Lorenor was different however. The years had changed him just as much as they had changed William. But instead of throwing that change aside as William had, Lorenor had embraced that change and had made it into a fundamental part of who he was. The thought staggered him with shock, his knees nearly giving way under the weight of the realization. What was he doing here? Was this really the person that he wanted to be? Perhaps he deserved this fate, to die at the hands of the man who’d already defeated him.

But instead of taking his just victory, Lorenor turned his power inward and, to William’s surprise, used the resulting energy to banish the poisonous toxin from William’s body, consuming the dark liquid with holy light. In the process, William saw, the undead creature consumed himself, what was left of him crumpling to ash at William’s feet. William froze, unsure just what to do or how to react to the action. It had caught him completely off-guard.

“Why, Lorenor?” he thought, looking down at the other man’s ashes. He stayed that way until the magic of the chamber faded around him, taking Lorenor’s physical remains with it. He knew that Lorenor had already been healed by the monks’ magic and was likely to be resting in the medical ward at the moment, but for some reason he couldn’t reconcile that knowledge with the sight of Lorenor giving up his own life to cure William of something that just as ultimately wouldn’t prove fatal. Congratulations, he’d won. But if so, then why did it feel like he’d lost?

The question haunted William until long after the Ai’Brone attendants returned the gear he’d lost.

Judgment

Story

Revenant: 19/30
Lorenor 17/30

One of the stronger parts of this battle, for me, was the story element. I find this to be quite rare in a Citadel battle. It wasn't so much that the plot was particularly complex, but that you both did a good job of portraying and using the history between William Arcus and Lorenor before, during and after the battle.

Revenant, I felt you did particularly well in setting the scene by putting William Arcus through a set of difficult trials at the behest of the Ai'Bronne monks. Even though the main battle took place in post four onwards, the work you did in the opening section was excellent and fun to read. You were original with your arena, creating a pseaudo-nightmare with all sorts of terrible traps and testing pitfalls. In particular, I was a big fan of the wax trap, a result of having your war form forced on you due to poor lighting. You then introduced a little of your past with Lorenor to the fray without overindulging on big details, which left me wanting to read more of your history without feeling starved, and you filled the subsequent battle with hints of nostalgia (including a nod to the Orlouge way of doing things which didn't go unappreciated). Your conclusion made sense without being spectacular, but it at least gave the reader something to think about.

Lorenor, you were also strong in this category. I felt you provided more detail than Revenant with regards to Lorenor and William's history, referring more often to memories and shards of the past to add splashes of colour to Revenant's own work in this department. At times it felt more of a collaboration than a competitive fixture, which is testament to the way you both write together. However, and this is a big however, I do have one gripe. Given that the Citadel's entire purpose is to battle without the fear of permanent death, your conclusion made very little sense. An act of self sacrifice in a place where resurrection is more or less guaranteed seemed pointless and really detracted from the otherwise fine work you did in getting to that point. I could understand the conclusion a lot more if this were a battle outside of the confines of the Citadel, especially as the ideal aligns nicely with what Lorenor is now about, but knowing that you will revive as soon as the battle is over anyway sort of makes Lorenor's selflessness a moot point. I'd also like to see you utilise setting a bit more - I felt Revenant was carrying the thread on the back of his use of the arena, which is not to say you did a bad job, just not as good a job as him. That said, there were plenty of positives in your overall performance. You worked hard, wrote an otherwise enjoyable piece and with a little work you can really make a difference to that score.


Character

Revenant: 20/30
Lorenor: 19/30

Lorenor, for the most part I think you did a good job with the paladin persona. There was an obvious emphasis on the difference between Mutant Lorenor and Paladin Lorenor, and it easy to see that his good nature shines through a lot. I did feel that perhaps there was a little personality clash halfway through when Lorenor mentions being a monster, but overall, considering the history, it didn’t feel too jarring. I’ve said before in previous judgments that I think you would benefit from finding one particular direction in a thread with your characters and sticking to it, and on this occasion you probably got as close to that as you can do with the effort applied. The obvious exception was jumping back and forth between that little bit of Mutant Lorenor and then the odd conclusion, which highlighted minor inconsistencies in Lorenor’s persona.

I mentioned this in your last judgment, but I did like your use of internal dialogue to allow the reader to follow his way of thinking. You were a little more conservative with your spoken word than previous battles and I actually think it helped you here because this particular bout had story connotations that verbally needed to be addressed, but without the long, dramatic monologues.

Revenant, the one thing I love about the way you write William is that you leave very little grey area when it comes to his persona. Almost every nuance, every line of dialogue and action that he took was consistent with the type of person he is – powerful, intimidating and intelligent. Again, I believe your shortcomings stemmed mostly from small things – perhaps I expected more of a showcase of William’s abilities – but these were few and far between.

Your actions absolutely defined you here. I loved the fast back-and-forth combat and especially enjoyed little details like William acknowledging the effects of his de-weighted warscythe on his balance. The outstanding “Snapping Turtle” technique filled my head with all sorts of Orlouge related nostalgia, and generally the way you carry Arcus around the arena, utilising the setting to further the action and even bits of his persona, was superb. Dialogue was kept to necessary lines only, really, and one criticism I have is that it might have perhaps been nice for the reader to crawl into William’s head in the same way Lorenor allows the reader to do so with use of internal dialogue.

Prose

Revenant: 24/30
Lorenor: 18/30

Lorenor, let me begin by saying that you have improved vastly since my last judgment for you. There were still spelling and grammatical errors which interrupted the pace of my read a little and threw me slightly off kilter, but it was nothing like threads of the past. I always fully understood what was happening and what you were saying or doing. Again, it wouldn’t hurt to run your work through a spell-check to eliminate as many “silly” errors as you can, just to help improve the overall quality and feel of your writing.

Your technique differs to Revenant, but your delivery of the writing itself is still of a good quality. You used some nice literary devices but I believe you could profit from perhaps using a few more to add splashes of color to your work in the right moments. There was very good use of paragraphing, but I do believe you could have perhaps benefited from separating out your dialogue from the main body of text to ensure it has the appropriate impact on your reader. An improvement of your technique by combining the above could really take you onto the next level because you are a good, creative writer with plenty of tools in your box.

Revenant, I thought the overall technique employed was fantastic. I could really visualize every small detail of each attack, the employment of the arena itself and even the detailing on the wounds given and received as they occurred. I’ve said this before but you have a natural gift for bringing everything to life with your vivid descriptions and you gave this thread the texture it deserved with some of your more potent devices. A personal favourite was the way you described the traps at the start of the thread, and how William dealt with each one. I almost felt the consequences of that wax trap from where I was sitting!

Mechanically speaking, my gripes are limited to basic things and seem a bit nit picky but are still relevant. You suffered from a few typos and a couple of grammatical errors, but nothing major. There were one or two questions on punctuation as well. None of these issues stem from a lack of understanding of mechanics but I suspect instead were simply overlooked. A quick spell-check and read through might have eliminated these issues entirely, but they were present nonetheless.

The final word was on your clarity, which was pretty much spot on. Rarely (other than in the case of the issues highlighted above) did I not understand what was going on. Good work.

Wildcard

Revenant: 7
Lorenor: 7

Gentlemen, I am awarding you both equal points for collaborating to provide us all with a very entertaining piece of writing. I enjoyed seeing a continuation of William and Lorenor’s past and look forward to seeing more from both of them in the future!

Final scores

Revenant: 70
Lorenor: 61

Revenant wins!

Revenant receives 4200 EXP and 85 GP!

Paladin Lorenor receives 1050 EXP and 40 GP!

All rewards added!