A Labyrinth of Ice

(IRON LEAGUE)
(OPEN)

John admitted to himself that he did like the League of Iron matches and the ranking system. He disliked admitting the follow up conclusion, that it had actually helped his form and fighting style, among other things which the league had aided him with. The monks would share their scores with him, if he asked, and would comment on how, here or there, he could improve. It seemed he still had much to learn.

The League had brought out a lot of old and (presumably dusty, if spells can become so) arena spells to entertain a newfound audience full of anticipation and coin. There was always something different and distinct about the arenas, and this one was no different, the half-giant mused as he peered around in the dim light of this labyrinth.

It twisted and turned, walls and corridors of ice stretching and bending in strange angles, curves and spaces, dead-ends and circles, and John was about finished with it all, after stopping to note he’d passed this particular corner twice before. He’d been marking as he went, just scratching the corners or walls he’d already been in. He looked up.

The ice walls stretched up and up, maybe a hundred meters or more of sheer, slippery walls. For all his climbing would do and how much energy and time it would take to get on top of the thing, it might as well have been miles up. Above was simply blackness. It might have been a ceiling, or a particularly dark and cloudy night, he couldn’t tell. The air chilled him and he willed his armor to coat his arms as well as his legs now, blanketing him in titanium. The maze’s light seemed to come from nowhere, unless the walls counted as light sources. They did seem to glow faintly, when looked at intently.

John looked around the next bend, seeing a broken-away chunk of labyrinth lying in the middle of the corridor, the ice fused with the floor’s cold surface already. He walked up to the hole, it was about ten meters in a rough circle. As if to answer, a deep, grumbling roar could be heard far off, accompanied by a crash.

If this labyrinth came with a minotaur, he’d hate to see it up close. John resumed his search for the other combatant, albeit more slowly and with more open ears this time.

William stepped across the threshold, feeling the familiar tingle of magic on his skin as one world replaced another. Tendrils of inky darkness spread across the revenant’s consciousness where the Ai’Bron monks’ magic touched him, a result of his cursed soul seeking to undo the magic of the Citadel. There was power there, a destructive power that made William ache with yearning. He paused for a moment to savor the untapped potential before reigning in his power. There would be time enough later to explore that avenue of possibilities. Now it was time to fight.

A single step was all it took to deposit William into the icy labyrinth that his opponent had chosen. He looked behind him, not surprised to see that the Citadel’s portal had faded, only to be replaced by a curved pathway of snow-covered ground surrounded by luminescent walls of ice. It was nearly identical to the path that had stood in front of him on his arrival. Frowning, William took three quick steps to the passage’s corner and peered around it. The same branching pathways of snow and ice greeted him, just as he’d feared.

“Of course it’s a spirits damned maze,” he growled. “No sense in having a straight-up fight, is there?” He’d been spending more and more time in the Citadel since his return to Radasanth and William was falling back into the old, familiar patterns of the place. It had been dangerous to ask the monks for a challenge, since the mystics views on the subject was, apparently, wildly different from his own.

Thick snows cushioned William’s footfalls, letting only a soft crunch trail him. A sharp knife of cold stabbed into the soles of William’s tough feet, but the pain faded soon enough into numbness and William swept the pain aside. His healing abilities would quickly repair any frostbite that his feet suffered, and banishing the cold all together would be as easy as summoning his war form.

William crunched his way over to one of the softly glowing walls of ice. He swept his burning gaze across the glassy surface, letting his destructive enlightenment seek out the ice’s imperfections. As he suspected, the monks of the Citadel had constructed the ice with uniform perfection, leaving no blemishes that he might exploit. Still, that didn’t mean that they were perfect.

Deciding to test the wall further William shifted his warscythe to his off hand and placed the other flat against the frozen surface. William was strong, far stronger than a normal person. He used that strength and pushed against the ice wall. The crystalline surface resisted for a time, but after a concerted effort on the revenant’s part a sharp snap resounded from the ice and a web of cracks spread in uneven patterns around his hand.

William nodded in satisfaction. Even though they were tough, the thick ice walls were still only ice. Feeling like he needed to give the wall one last test he pulled his hand back, clenched it tightly into an iron fist, and drove it forward. The cracks in the wall shot out several feet in every direction, and a mass of ice chip burst from the inch thick hole which William had just put into the wall.

I’ll definitely need to work that out, he thought, watching as his skin healed and the bones reknit in his shattered hand. It took a minute, but soon enough there was no sign that William had hurt himself in the first place.

William pulled his thick cloak tightly around him and checked the heavy dragon bone cleaver slung behind his shoulders to make sure it was secure. Then he picked a direction at random and started jogging down it, leaving deep footprints behind him.

“Alright then,” he grumbled, watching the heat of the words mist from his lips. “Fuck you, you bastard, wherever you are. You’re going to die.”

John rounded a bend in the ice, coming face to face with yet another wall, this one seeming to curve gently around, almost as if rounding a great pavilion. The light of the maze was brighter here, John could almost see some kind of brightness through the nearly-opaque wall of the maze, with still seemed to strangely glow itself. John hadn't realized it, but he stopped to stare, trying to peer through the icy wall. He nearly tripped as he tried to move on, his feet would not move. He managed to wrench himself free of the icy floor with a grunt, noticing a thin layer of frost and ice stuck to the bottom of his boots.

This is becoming annoying, I haven't even found this opponent yet, he thought to himself, making his way around the curve. The curve terminated after a few hundred yards, with an abrupt left turn into the area he'd been walking around. A great stone obelisk stood at the center of a circular area. The icy court was perhaps a hundred paces wide. He eyed the obelisk and stepped warily forward, eyeing the pillar of blue-veined stone. Light seemed to emanate from the veins, and the obelisk emitted a steady glow of brighter blue than the icy walls of the labyrinth. The obelisk was not quite as tall as the walls of the labyrinth, but that still made it taller than most buildings outside the Citadel.

He was careful to keep his feet moving on the cold stone.

John might spend another hour wandering this thrice-damned maze, all without seeing a soul. It was certainly big enough.

Unless, he thought, cursing the cleverness of the Citadel monks. If he shouted for his opponent, it would certainly bring him, but it might also bring the monster.

Only one way to find out. The half-giant raised a shout.

"I'm here! Let's get this started, eh?!?"

By the time John’s challenge reached William there was little sense left in the giant’s words. Each twisting curve and winding passage of the labyrinth broke the phrase down into more and more of an unrecognizable mess. The sound reached William from three different directions at the same time, making it impossible to pinpoint exactly where they had come from. But even if it was impossible to understand the words their meaning was quite clear.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll get what’s coming to you soon enough,” William grinned and picked up his pace. Snow crunched softly under his feet as he jogged down one passage after another. It was difficult to maintain his bearings given the uniform nature of the ice walls, but William believed that he was doing a decent job of at least making progress in a single direction. Twice he had to stop and back-track when he came to a solid sheet of ice closing off his progress. Not for the first time William found himself wondering why the Ai’Brone monks kept throwing him into twisting mazes like this. He’d have to have stern words with them once he’d finished with this engagement.

Several minutes passed as William made his way through the winding paths. He was so focused on figuring the maze out that he was taken completely by surprise when another booming sound caught up to him.

“I’m trying to find you, have a little spirits-damned patience,” William grumbled, his earlier good humor slushed away. Something in this roar caught at the edge of his awareness however, forcing him to stop to listen. This roar was different from the other one. Though the walls made both of them broken and incoherent, there had been a general form and structure to the first one. There was no such structure in this second yell. With a shiver William realized that there was something else in the maze with him and his opponent. Something large and bestial from the sound of it. And that something was closing in on him.

“Damn it,” William snarled. He redoubled his pace, at the same time summoning his power and letting the molten heat flow through him. Ice hissed around him as he turned into a roiling furnace. Worst of all was the ground beneath him, which had instantly been reduced to a loose slurry. He’d hoped to avoid the transformation until he’d found his opponent, but with something stalking him through the maze, something that undoubtedly knew it’s realm far better than William did, he’d better be prepared for the worst.

It was half a minute later when William made a right turn and plunged into the open square where the obelisk and a very large man waited.

John heard the creak of ice, like a dull crack reverberating through one of the maze’s walls. He came around the corner quickly, steam trailing behind. He seemed a short man to John, but then again most did. A strong, square face sported dark hair, close cropped at scalp and chin, which framed eyes that looked stern. John had seen his ilk in a hundred battles. There was a natural confidence, an arrogance, and not the kind that John enjoyed. Though, as he watched his opponent, John caught a glimpse of his equipment. His armor had a piecemeal look to it, as if he’d taken a breastplate of unknown metal from an elvish smith, and taken a silver helmet from some other styling he did not recognize.

John felt a little uneasy. Most men would flinch, some would even cower in fear at the sight of him. Not so much as a flinch marred his face as he continued onwards. John readied himself by commanding his armor, now as much a part of his body as any other. His eyesight went black for a split-second as the metal rose, coating his still-open eyes, and he saw again almost instantly. He still did not know how the metal worked, where it came from, or why he could still see and hear, but for now the fact that it obeyed him was enough.

Though, if he had learned anything by his time in the Citadel, it was to never think he had the upper hand on looks alone. He took a step forward, armor thickening a little on his hands as he raised one in greeting, and a rumble sounded from beyond the courtyard’s outer wall. The growl, if it could be called a growl, died down, and he named himself to the smaller man.

“I am John,” He voiced simply. “Shall we begin?”

The half-giant knocked one fist on top of the other a few times, which had become more ritual than confirmation that his armor was solid, but still, it marked the beginning of the fight in his mind. He approached slowly, deliberately, holding out a large hand ready just in case.