I'm a Fun Guy, I Promise! (Closed to Flamebird)

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul's face was red. He brought a single hand up as if to punch a nearby wall and merely covered his face with his palm. He could feel the eyes of the priest on him as he groaned in embarrassment. His voice echoed off the walls rather loudly and caused him to start. He took a deep breath and uncovered his face, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

"So everyone knows of my shame, then?" he asked in tones dripping with venomous intent. If words could kill...

"Not everyone. Just anyone who happened to look, which is most of the people you've ever fought here," the priest said. "I mean, I couldn't believe you lost to someone like that, but here we are. This is why I constantly tell you not to underestimate your opponents. They might know some tricks you don't."

"But it was water magic! I should have had the upper hand!" Rehtul whined piteously. He realized what he was doing shortly and snapped his mouth shut almost immediately. Without much ado, he turned on his heel and walked out of the Citadel's healing chamber, a chuckling priest behind him. He thought he heard the man say something as the door swung shut behind him, something about 'creativity,' but couldn't be bothered to go back and ask. He had already humiliated himself in front of his elder enough.

Instead he walked out into the main hall of the Citadel and just stewed in his own juices for awhile.

How... how the hell did she beat me like that? I should have had every advantage against her, short of frying her with lightning... What the hell happened?! He had seen it. She managed to whip her magic at him at incredible speeds, realign them in midair, curl them around any obstacle put in front of her. The sheer pliability of her magecraft gave her an edge that he hadn't accounted for. She was not only adaptable in thought, but in form. Fluid in her movements, and so were her spells, capable of moving in any direction she desired.

Rehtul, by contrast, was strict and unbending. His spells functioned almost exactly to his specifications, and lacked the ability to change halfway through the casting. His budding ability to control them within a certain distance was certainly put to the test as he used it... and since he couldn't react as quickly as her water could... solids obviously would take a bit longer to respond to reshaping than water would. He also had a much more limited range of control than she did. It seemed no matter how far he ran, he wouldn't be able to escape the grasp of her long water tentacles.

He sighed and rubbed his chin as he stood up. She had him on range. That was one of the most important issues. He definitely wouldn't be able to beat someone who was able to hit him before he could get close enough to hit them.

Perhaps the time had come for a new challenge, something to take his mind off things, he thought. With a shrug to himself, he made his way down the halls toward another door. After all, his next challenger couldn't possibly be someone he'd regret fighting later, could it?

[Flamebird]

The sound of water circling down a drain trickled away as she rummaged through her satchel. From inside a small washroom, Felicity Rhyolite leaned against the wooden wall above the waste bucket. She had needed to go before her Citadel fight, and had just finished washing her hands like a responsible person. She pulled out a mirror from the bag. The cold item was held in a fanciful, old wooden case. The mirror itself was made not of glass, but of ice. The ice mirror, after four years of usage, still served her well.

The eighteen year old gazed into the reflection. Her hair was mostly pulled back into a loose yet strict bun. Smaller strands of hair lined the sides and her forehead. Her large forehead... The redhead tried brushing more hair around to cover her forehead, eyes narrowed in dull annoyance.

The girl sighed as she lowered the mirror. She looked down at her sturdy frame. The clearly muscular, fit girl attempted her best to dress in a respectable manner - she was a general, after all. Outside the Citadel, she had responsibility. She wore a black coat. With double buttons wrapping the top, the back strips of the coat reached down to her ankles. She had tight, black leather boots on her feet, still suitable for acrobatics. The white pants, tucked under all other cosmetics, unfortunately bore marks and stains of mud and ash from the journey here. Felicity was unused to wearing such formal attire here, but she was an honored member of the Brotherhood of Castigars now. It was her duty to look her best.

She had grown up.

She slipped the mirror back into the pack hanging on the nail of the locked door. She rested her head against the back of the stall, internally questioning the battle ahead. She was tired of paperwork and ordering soldiers around. She wanted to feel alive. With her mentor a bit busy for training sessions, Felicity turned to the brutal yet brilliant Citadel.

A heavy thud sounded from just outside. Felicity's head shot up, eyes wide, as boisterous knocking barraged the door to her stall. "Come on! You've been in there for ten minutes, I need to go!"

With a long sigh, Felicity pulled the satchel from the back of the door and wrapped it around her body. Battle awaited her...

She opened the stall. As a rather angry dark elf rushed into the stall, Felicity stepped onto the cold stone floor. Just down the bland, vacant hall stood a hooded figure. The monk of the Citadel leaned against the wall, guarding several weapons laid against the wall. His expression was vague and shadowed as the girl walked over. She started clipping the two arming swords to her belt as the monk spoke with a voice like cold water.

"Your fight is down the hall and to the left, Madame."

Felicity hooked the quiver of iron arrows to her belt, then reached for her knife as she hooked the knife's sheath to the strap crossed over her arm, she smiled and nodded to the monk. "Thank you."

The monk continued to look straight ahead, into some sort of void. Felicity's smile melted like snow. She strapped the sheath to her katana on the strap and pulled it to her back. Silently grasping her war bow, she jogged down the empty halls until she reached her destination. She had seen it many times before. An unassuming, simplistic oak door. On the other side, however, the monks worked their brilliant magic. Her sense of magic flared as she opened the door.

The door cracked open, revealing a long forest ahead of her. This forest, however, was the most bizarre of places. Instead of trees, this arena was spotted with massive mushrooms. The tree sized mushrooms, red, blue, green, yellow, and more, covered the damp landscape in colorful array. The ground on the other side of the door was damp and cool. Felicity could feel the chill floating up from the weed coated, muddy ground. Understanding that her outfit would ruined by the wet weather, Felicity took a deep breath and took a step in. The mud was insanely shallow, barely making a splash as Felicity stepped inside. She closed the door behind her, taking in the rich earthy scents of this land.

Step after step, Felicity walked under the mushroom forest. A diversity of sizes and shapes surrounded her. Many shadow colors danced on the forest floor as sunlight filtered beneath the shrooms delightful canopies. So caught up in the strange forest, Felicity smiled as she took step after step into the forest. The door was soon lost and out of sight.

Felicity remembered very well that battle was to be fought here. She knew the muddy ground would pose a problem for her footing and once again regretted wearing this outfit here. Attempting to be mature, Felicity forgot how much the elements could effect her. Looking up towards the dim sky, Felicity clenched her war bow. She would have to get dirty and fight. Both mud and blood would fly within this fungal paradise.

She was ready.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

"It's time," Rehtul said to himself as he pushed himself off the wall and opened the door before him. He'd been told to wait a couple of minutes for them to find him an opponent, and just to enter that door when the time had elapsed. He breathed in the new air and found it to be damp and muggy. He looked at his white pants and coat with a cringe. This was going to be a dirty fight, he could already tell.

He stepped through and heard the telltale squelch of boot hitting mud as he looked around. The place was dimly lit, but visibility was still there. He could easily see his opponent, so long as they didn't have some ability that allowed them to blend into the shadows. Soft luminescence filled the area around him as he continued to walk forward. The source was giant mushrooms, fungi, growing as tall as the trees of Concordia and emitting a soft glow in a rainbow of colors.

"Hm, well... Where plants fear to tread, fungi will often take their place. They don't necessarily require direct sunlight to grow, so it comes as little surprise that they'd be able to grow easily in a subterranean environment like this one. Though that does beg the question..." Rehtul trailed of as he looked in every possible direction for a wall or roof. As the gloom turned into pitch black darkness at the edge of his vision, he could see no signs of an edge to this underworld populated primarily by bioluminescent fungi.

He frowned slightly as he came to a stop. His ears perks up as he heard the same squelching that his own boots had made. His opponent was nearby and apparently favored somewhat the same type of footwear for battle. As their silhouette came into view, Rehtul could make out it was at least someone who was taking this seriously. It appeared to be a dress uniform fitting for a ranking officer of some military unit, but also appeared tough enough to protect the wearer under normal combat situations.

Probably lined with puncture resistant materials, he thought to himself. As the woman, for from her body shape he could now tell that this was indeed a woman, approached, Rehtul reached toward the mud beneath him and concentrated. The air around him dropped in temperature substantially as white-tinged wind whipped around his arm. Water, cool and clear floated up from the damp floor and around his gloved hand. It solidified itself into a wrist-mounted sword. He gave it a couple of experimental swings and then turned toward his opponent.

"I pray you don't mind me arming myself ahead of introductions. I'm Rehtul Orlouge. I'll be your opponent today."

[Flamebird]

Walking through the rapidly darkening arena, Felicity was awestruck by the glowing mushrooms crowded around her. Under the thick canopy of a forest pulling her deeper, deeper in, Felicity developed another feeling as well. Nervousness.

Her bow gripped tightly, Felicity wandered aimlessly in the dimming fungal forest. Soon, the only light left was that of the eliminating mushrooms. Felicity cared not for being lost, but the silence was unsettling. Then - footsteps. Not her footsteps. It was someone. Squinting through the darkness, Felicity spotted a shadowed figure between the shrooms. The young woman hastily jogged closer, yet she felt the magic ahead pulse with her senses. She skidded to a halt, slightly sliding in the mud. Was her opponent already going to attack?

From the darkness, vapor started to glow. She saw a lone hand stretched as bright water and hissing steam collected around him. Felicity's heart rate skyrocketed as an ice weapon forged itself upon his arm. The lights of the mushrooms started to glow brighter as Felicity dropped her bow completely. As the weapon fell into the thick mud, drowning beneath it, harsh memories sliced at her like jagged knives. Horrid memories of ice she long desired to outrun, but never could.

"I'm Rehtul Orlouge. I'll be your opponent today."

A more pleasant memory suddenly broke through the rest.

"I’ll walk you out. I think the next time we fight, we should do so on solid land."

Like dim sunlight peaking through the clouds, Felicity felt warmth reenter her shaken heart. The memories still buzzed around her like insects, but she was able to bat them away as she smiled brightly.

"Rehtul! It's Felicity!"

Raising her hands to show friendship, Felicity took several steps closer. The strange light of the fungi bathed them both in alien visibility. Rehtul, this man, she had not seen in four years. He was one of the first opponents she had ever met in the Citadel. Despite their hostile meeting, they had left each other on friendly terms. Despite the time, he looked quite similar to what he once was. Only the glasses on this royal, proper Mystic's face was different. His clothes, which he obviously put time and effort into, were half ruined by the mud already. Although his ice weapon caused her anxiety, his identical personality was rather comforting to her. Yet, the gap of time between this meeting and the last ran long between them. Nostalgia, sadness, overtook Felicity as she remembered all she had lost since then.

"It's..." Her mouth parted in dumb surprise and melancholy distance, "It's been years..."

[Rehtul Orlouge]

"Felicity. That young lady I gave the mirror to all those years ago? I didn't know you'd still be coming here all these years later. You've..." Rehtul looked her up and down with a half smile. "You've definitely changed since then." He let his arm fall to his side as he relaxed. The world around them seemed to come to a standstill as he thought back to the days when they had battle, four years ago. He had been such a child himself back then. He still was, in a sense.

He could remember clear as day that his hair had been ruined during that fight by a rogue lightning strike that sent him into an absolute rage. He had been extremely unhappy and had avoided going out during severe storms for almost a year afterward. After awhile, he'd finally cut his hair shorter and stopped being so obsessed with his appearance.

He snapped himself out of his reverie and smiled a little more fully as he said, "I think I have too, come think of it."

"Well, this is a second meeting, apparently decided by fate itself. You want to pick up that thing you dropped?" Rehtul asked, pointing at the area where the item she was carrying had been dropped with his ice sword. "I'd hate to have you start with a handicap. We can catch up after everything's over and done with."

"After all," he said with slight grin, "That little match we had before didn't let either of us really show what we were capable of. This should be infinitely more interesting."

[Flamebird]

Felicity turned to look down at the missile weapon in the mud. Beneath the murky brown. the dimly lit bow lay still. Felicity bit her lip. No, she could not use that thing here... it would end the fight too quickly.

Felicity looked back up to Rehtul. With her chest still tense with pain, she powered on. As the multicolored mushroom forest lit the darkness, the reached to her belt. She pulled out a delyn sword. The colors of this wondrous arena danced and flickered like fire on the blade as she removed it from its sheath. The arming sword, simple in design, boasted elvish writing which glowed against the vibrant colors surrounding them. This sword was named Heart.

"I'll stick with what I'm good at." Felicity admitted.

She took a single step through the mud. As the thick, oozing mud splashed against her leggings, she took another. Then, she sprinted forward. Her target was someone who had grown in character just as much as her. Felicity had targeted him in melee combat years ago, but that was... well... years ago. She had no idea what to expect, but she enjoyed this great unknown. Rehtul was shadowed in the natural darkness, despite the mushroom auras against his glasses. Felicity raised her blade in the back right guard, aiming to slice a clean and simple cut at Rehtul's chest. She knew Rehtul would bring his blade to block her's, so Felicity would react accordingly. Due to the upwards swing of her blade, she would be able to duck as she slid her blade across his. She hoped to either use her spare hand to land a punch or stab him in the shoulder this way.

The fight was on.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

And she goes straight for the close and personal attack, Rehtul thought. Perhaps she hadn't changed as much as he thought. He would concede, of course, that she appeared to understand what she was doing far more than before, but... Well, perhaps showing her a thing or two he learned wouldn't be a bad idea. Instead of trying to dodge backward, Rehtul brought his own sword up to catch hers. What would be considered strange, if Felicity had been paying attention, was that a shard of the ice had detached from his wrist mounted blade and slithered up his arm, across his shoulder, and into his other waiting hand, leaving a clean hook on the back part of his sword, where he intended to catch her own.

Rehtul wrenched his sword in a twisting motion, intent on using Felicity's own momentum in an attempt to flip her into the mud beneath their feet while dodging outside the range of her other hand.

I had to learn from that water caster... Being fluid in one's movements and allowing one's creations to change shape to suit your need is an intriguing idea. I suppose I could learn to be a bit more flexible in my approach to situations, he thought.

"I dunno... I've been sticking with what I'm good at, and it hasn't gotten me very far. I think some flexibility in one's approach could prove valuable from time to time," Rehtul said. Once out of Felicity's way, Rehtul would use the shard he had slipped off the back of his own blade, twist it into a throwing dagger, and launch it from his voluminous white sleeve with the speed of a striking viper at her chest.

[Flamebird]

Felicity was quite the physical beast. A living weapon in more than one way, her strength and power were not to be trifled with. Yet, she made a vital mistake in her initial approach. Momentum. Maybe, Felicity was so used to being strong, she forgot how physics could be manipulated against the player. Thus, Rehtul was more than capable of using her momentum to outmaneuver her. Her weapon fell to the ground as she slipped in the mud. Under Rehtul's redirection, she rolled into the mud entirely. Her outfit was ruined.

As if she truly cared. This was war. Hair messy and fallen over her face, she did not waste a second. Pulling herself to her hands and knees, she looked up to see a sharp throwing knife flying towards her chest. Felicity had no armor, something foolish on the surface. However, she instinctively pulled her muscular arm up to block the knife. There was a reason she came with no armor. With a sickening sound, the blade cleanly burrowed itself into her arm. Toxic blood, with a sickening atmosphere, spewed from the arm and caused the mud it fell upon to bubble in heat. Her irises dilated as a new energy took over. She felt no pain, just violent energy. In and instant, she jumped from the mud. Her nuclear powers were activated.

When she bled, a response was triggered in her biology that made her more powerful. She was already strong before, but these powers made her even stronger. Furthermore, the nuclear energy made her body toxic. Radiation poisoning seeped through the air, causing the closest mushrooms to develop a sickly wilt. Her blood especially could cause one to burn. The ice, regardless of its strength, was already melting upon the heat generated by Felicity's radiation. However, there were negative side effects to this power as well - anger. This power altered the frontal lobe, causing anger to bubble to the front, steadily impairing the ability to think clearly. As of now, she simply darted towards Rehtul with reckless impatience, a sort of extreme adrenaline. Yet, if cut more the power grew in all side effects...

She yanked her prevalida arming sword from its sheath. The black blade reflected the glow of the scenery as she aimed yet another swipe, more ferocious and swift than the last, at her opponent once again. She would usually step back, form strategies, if only her power did not afflict her head this way.

Could Rehtul outmaneuver this?

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Interesting reaction, Rehtul noted in his head as he looked the woman over as his knife entered her flesh. What he did not anticipate was everything else. Her blood was aflame and radiated some sickening energy unlike anything he'd ever seen in his life. Nearby fungi were already wilting from the sheer output of this energy. It was like the smog from a volcano, only invisible and... He sniffed and backed up a few steps.

"Her blood is like a toxic flame," he muttered under his breath as the heat radiating off of her body swept by him in waves. He felt nausea sweep through him like a torrent as the heat from her body approached him. "It's like she can poison you without even touching you."

Something about this was off. Rehtul knew it. She looked pissed, and he had only barely scratched her. What was causing this? The wound?

Dammit, what the hell... Could it be... exposing her blood to air? It's not impossible, I'll concede. That means she could activate whatever the hell this is on her own just by making a small cut on an inconspicuous spot on her arm, though.

The more he thought about it as she rose from the slop beneath them, the more convinced he was that this was indeed the case. What other possible effects could this damage have on her, however? It seemed a bit more than just this toxic power pouring off of her in waves. There was something far more unstable about her movements. Then she drew another blade and made her attack.

Rehtul didn't hesitate. He jumped backward and touched the tip of his own blade to the muck beneath. Behind him, a frosty circular disc of ice formed. He slid across it, but stopped short of the edge. He did a little hop and felt his shoes dip into the disgusting mud beneath once more. With the disc between the two of them, he scowled.

"Letting your temper get the best of you? Shameful," he said. With that hanging between the two of them, he raised his booted foot and stomped down on the disc. It stood up straight in the gunk as Rehtul ran his magic through the blade of his ice sword. He lunged forward and stabbed the center of the disc. The force of his magic launched the nearly hundred pound hunk of ice toward the young woman at an alarming speed.

[Flamebird]

Of course, it was obvious that such a direct, unstrategic attack would not land. This was especially the case with a clever mage like Rehtul Orlouge. Indeed, a massive disk formed and proceeded to slam into Felicity's stomach. The wet ground caused her to practically fall back, ramming into one of the mushroom trees. The earthy, softer flesh of the plant only cushioned the attack a little. Sure, Felicity had a remarkable pain tolerance, but this thing just creamed her!

Felicity's nuclear energy slipped away, allowing her to feel the full pain echoing from her ribs to the rest of the body. She lifted the disk, almost casually, and shoved it aside. Still, for a moment she struggled to get up. The ground slipped from beneath her, causing her bum to hit the ground again. In pain, coated in mud, bleeding from her arm, and being slightly dazed left her in an uncomfortable situation.

This isn't going well...

It was time to take a step back and assess the situation. Felicity knew now that direct attacks did nothing. How could she take the time to think, however, when Rehtul worked best keeping her at range?

Using the mushroom to balance herself, she stood to her feet using a free hand to fix one of her rib bones, visibly in pain, Felicity glared hard at Rehtul before reaching down and pulling out her knife. Hoping to distract him for a moment, she threw it like a spear at him before bolting towards the deeps of the forest. Using the mud to her advantage, she slid as she used the mushroom trees to steady herself. Ducking behind a large, red shroom, the girl panted as she recollected her bearings.

It was obvious direct attacks did not work, yes. However, Felicity noticed something. Rehtul did not use direct attacks either. He used maneuvering skills and ranged attacks to keep her away from him. His weakness, Felicity realized, was close quarters. She needed to corner him, as she excelled in melee and unarmed squabbles. Yet, how to get there?

Felicity reached down and with a grubby hand, pulled out an iron arrow from the quiver in her belt. She had lost her bow, two arming swords, and a knife to the murky ground now. She was lucky she still had arrows and her katana, Copycat.

She hastily devised a plan. She took all her arrows and pressed them against her arm, careful not to cut herself further. Drenching the iron tips in her radioactive blood, she darted from the mushroom to face Rehtul.

Instead of charging straight towards him, Felicity took a more zig zagging pattern. Once again using mud to hasten her movements; whenever she rested one hand against a tree for stability, she chucked an arrow with her powerful arm and ducked behind the fungi before darting out again. She tossed another arrow as she made way from one shroom to another, then hid again before running from a random side. She hoped the erratic pattern and poisoned arrows would be distracting enough to get close to him. If she did, she would pull Copycat out and try to corner him enough to engage in direct melee combat.