Oh The Places We Will Go

[Logan]

Ok, this battle is open to players who will post at least once per day (and yes, I will post just as frequently). I am demanding a high level of quality in each post and will do my best to ensure I keep up my end of the battle. I want this to be good enough for others to take notice and desire to read it. So if you think you are up for the challenge...read on and take heed. This will not be easy and will require communication with me over AIM daily -- scr101282. You can PM me if you cant reach me on AIM, too.

Death. It wasn't something Logan ever truly took lightly. It was true that anyone who died within the confines of the Citadel's magic would awaken with nary a scar or wound with which to remember the battle they had fought by. Yet, still each death held a strange attachment for him. Every darkened moment of unconsciousness caught the veteran off-guard and ill-prepared for it's all encompassing feeling. It truly seemed like it was real and permanent each and every time. Yet, somehow the permanence and realness always seemed to fade as Logan returned to consciousness within the care of the monks.

It was this very thing that had brought Logan once more to the gigantic archway that led to the vast expanse of hallways that twisted and winded their way throughout the spralling Citadel. The monstrosity was really nothing more than a huge temple which contained hundreds, if not thousands, of highly skilled and highly magikal monks of Gol'Bron. However, even it's hugeness Logan never once became lost or confused. Every time he entered he either sensed where he needed to go or the monks would ensure he found his destination with little wasted time between. Perhaps that was one of the most alluring features of the Citadel.

Or maybe it was the capability to create or recreate any chosen atmosphere, setting, landscape, memory, etc. Many of the Citadel's most frequent warriors had requested recreations of the past for more than mere enjoyment. It was truly a marvel to return to a point in time when one made a choice or a choice was made and see the all-encompassing effects it truly had. Everyone wants to know what their future holds, and in some small twisted way the Citadel offered that opportunity in a very unique way. It was possible to return to a choice made and having already lived the effects of the choice also return to the emotions and relive the choice. One truly could know the future in the confines of the magikal Citadel. It had to have been a part of the reason the structure was erected in the first place. This, too played a role in the veteran's appearance at the Citadel that day.

Logan's entrance under the archway was stopped abruptly short by a small, pudgy man who happened to be in such a big hurry that he plower the psion over and just continued on without noticing. The psion laid on the cold limestone walkway for a moment just staring blankly up into the vastness of the sky overhead. He rose slowly and carefully before turning around to try and spot his assailant, but it was to no avail. Dusting himself off with his hands, the psion turned back to the entryway and began his quest to enter once more. A few seconds later and he found himself within the walls of the Citadel as a smile washed over his face. Something about this place always made the veteran smile, but he could never quite put his finger on what it was. He turned to one of the monks who seemed less pre-occupied than the others as he asked aloud, "Sir? Might I be directed as to where the arena I requested has been erected?"

The monk looked up from the counter he was standing behind and adjusted his glasses. He was an older monk, one whom Logan could've sworn he'd seen before and probably even knew. After a few moments of looking the smiling psion up and down, the monk nodded and pointed at a small, but sturdy looking wooden door. "Mr. McCloud, over there you will find the arena just as you requested. Though, we did elect to make one small, teeny-tiny adjustment to your request. We do not believe this will be an issue for you, as everything else is exactly to your specifications," the older monk responded rather kindly, almost grandfatherly. Logan nodded. He had learned it was simply less trouble to just leave the monks to their work even if occassionally some small detail was just slightly off. After all, they had thousands of arenas to conjure up every minute, and who was this lowly psion to question that?

He made his way without much interference to the door the monk had pointed at and with one hefty push he had opened it. As he entered into the arena he had chosen for this fight he couldn't contain his jubilation. When his feet had touched the ground within the arena he let out a small cheer. As unusual as it was for the psion to do such an improper thing, it was known to happen on occassion. It was at that moment that Logan felt the first few drops of the rain. He stepped deeper into the arena and as he shut the door behind him he heard the sound of the rolling thunder not so far away. Flashes of light glowed all around him and the water began to pelt him incessently. The rain would not stop this day. At least, not until the battle to be waged had claimed it's victim and it's victor.

The psion smiled as his hands ran over the hilts of his blades. It was perfect...

Or was it?

[Bandit]

”Why do I come to this place? I go into a room and fight for my life. Go through pain and suffering as well as placing someone else at the other end of my blade, simply to have everything reversed at the end of the battle.” The same question seemed to plague Zigurate every time he entered the Citadel. It was a place that filled him with fascination, and at the same time filled him with so much anxiety that he wondered if it was even worth coming to the damn place at all. Being slightly skilled with the arts of magic, he could understand the fact that nothing was going to happen to either him or the person he was fighting, and yet he always questioned the abilities of the monks that worked day in and day out in the temple. One little slip up and Ziggy would be responsible for the death of a person who may or may not deserve the fate which he bestows upon them simply to test his skills.

Despite these thoughts of doubt, Ziggy knew he could not live without the embrace of the Citadel. There was no other place within the confines of Althanas which permitted death without the one major side effect which followed the situation, which happens to be the end of ones life. People came from all corners of the world simply to take part in a single battle against a completely random person. Going into the battle knowing that one could not die aided in the fact that they gave it their all. In a real battle one would be prepared to surrender under the influence of a drawn out battle where ones life hung in the balance. However when it came to Citadel battles the word surrender was used little to none. People were willing to keep fighting against impossible odds simply because they new even if they lost and ended up dead that the monks would use their magic to raise them from the cold embrace of death. The main reason that Ziggy continued to be drawn in by the alluring call of the Citadel was to work on his own skills. There are times in his life where the experience gained in the ‘fake’ battles of the Citadel save him from experiencing the real life effects of death.

Being so self absorbed in his own thoughts, Ziggy barely realized his feet were echoing along the cobble stone walk way which lead to the magnificent building which he had just spent time thinking about. People rushed past him, making their own way either away from the building or towards it. Why people got into such a panic was a mystery to the bandit. The Citadel was home to thousands of arenas, so the thought of rushing was useless because no matter how long you took there would always be a room ready for you. That was one good thing about the monks. They may not be the friendliest folk, but they know how to do their job and therefore the time within the Citadel waiting for a match was non existent. Reaching out, Ziggy pushed open the large wooden doors and entered into the building which claimed a love hate relationship deep in his heart.

As soon as he walked over the threshold, Ziggy was greeted by the familiar smell of the Citadel. The sweat from hard fought battles was filling his nostrils as he took in a deep breath. Along with the smells he could hear the many voices, some were jubilant over their latest victory, where as others were cursing the closest person about how they lost to someone that they felt they should beaten easily. Regardless of the mood of the people around him, Zigurate remained in control, keeping his emotions in check. Sometimes the moods of those around a person can cause that person to elevate their mood, and when you are not on an even keel is when you loose a battle that you should win. Despite the lack of reality which existed after the fight, Ziggy treated each and every person he fought in this place as an enemy, and therefore needed to be prepared mentally for the battle to come.

Making his way up to the counter which a tall robed monk was maintaining, Ziggy looked along the halls hoping one of these doors was ready for him to walk through. Before he even got to the desk, the monk was making his way out from behind the mahogany table. “I assume you are back here to test your abilities Zigurate.” As the monk spoke he started to lead the way down one of the closest halls. “Usually I would set you up with an empty room and wait from an opponent to come for you, but in this case I feel that this particular person should be able to hold their own against you.” The monk gave Ziggy a smile as he stopped beside the door which Ziggy was to walk through.

Nodding to the monk, Ziggy kept his face blank. A number of the monks in the Citadel knew him by his name, and yet he had no clue how to tell the robed figures apart. They all seemed to look the same, and those whose names he did know kept getting mixed up with the many faces in his memory and therefore it was always better for the young rogue to keep his mouth shut rather then be made a fool due to a lack of memory. Reaching out to the door, Ziggy pushed it open and took a step inside. Within a second the scenery changed from the polished banisters and walls of the Citadel to a battlefield. The soft echo of a not to distant thunder caused Ziggy to jump as he scanned the area for any sign of his enemy. A soft clicking sound could be heard behind him as the door shut. The sound of a door being locked could be heard as the monk locked the door so that the battle could begin.

Taking a step, Ziggy could already feel the dirt under his foot being softened by the beating rain that continued to fall from the sky above. Feeling the lashing of the rain drops, Ziggy squinted to keep it from stinging at his eyes. Still there was no sign of his opponent which the monk had spoken so highly of. Just like any of his other Citadel adventures, Ziggy felt his hands go to his daggers as he anticipated anything. Not everyone was respectable in these battles; some even jumped a person as they walked through the door. Anticipation for the upcoming battle blocked out everything, the flashes of lightening became a simple background. The pelting rain was simply bouncing off Ziggy not affecting him near as much as it should. The only thought that kept crossing his mind was the fact that he wanted to find this person before they managed to get a clear shot in on his back.

”I don’t know where you are, but you can’t hide forever.” As Ziggy continued to let his mind do the talking he surveyed the battle field waiting for the simplest movement of a shadow which he could identify as another person.