Tristain settled his hammer and the short camping axe on his belt, and dropped his shield onto his back. His hefty armor felt familiar and comfortable to him as he turned to look at the monk who was waiting in the doorway. The monk bowed to him, arms folded in his sleeves.

"The one who initiated the challenge sets the bounds of the environment. Your opponent has decided he wishes to fight within the Concordian Forest, in the evening hours. Are you ready to go?" The mercenary raised an eyebrow and considered the man's words, then nodded once. Already his mind was whirring as he thought on what this likely meant his opponent was like.

As he strode behind the monk, heading towards the battle chamber, Tristain was considering this. Someone who was likely a native to the forest, or to a location with abundant forests in general. Forest combat was a different beast than battling on an open field, tight confines and limited sight lines. Compounding that last issue was the desired time of day - night. Did this mean his opponent was someone who could see better in low-light situations? If so, he could think of some things he might want to do to prepare. It depended on just how accurate to the real forest this one was.

_______________


The forest was dim and dark as Tristain adjusted himself. He hadn't been dropped off right on top of his opponent - he wanted a chance to familiarize himself with the environment before they came to blows. Already he had confirmed that the forest was fairly similar to what he had been traveling through recently.

Using his hammer he had broken off a branch and had begun whittling it down as he carefully made his way through the woods. Sharpened at one end it would serve as a crude spear - give him a chance to gauge his opponent before they got into close quarters. The spear could be used, or thrown - he wondered if he could get a full drop on whoever else was in these woods. He doubted it.

'I need to remember training. Stick close to the trees, use them as cover and to prevent myself from being rushed down. I do not exactly blend in though.' Tristain thought to himself. He was still clad in his heavy armor, and only years of experience kept it from clanking as he moved through the brush. The mercenary could see where there was a campfire ahead, light flickering through the branches. He could not, though, see if there was someone near the fire or not. A soft breath, and he began to move closer cautiously.