A stained past(Closed)

[Logan]

”Respect...” The veteran warrior repeated the word over and over to himself. It was the last word he'd said before falling prey to death's sting in the second round of the Lornius Corporate Challenge. To the veteran the word became something much more than just a phrase or a word; it became synonymous with a man that Logan had come to hate and yet in the same breath love. No one on the face of the world could bring the veteran to that next level. No one but Thoracis Rakarth.

The psion once more desired to feel the swell of anger and fury within him. The pain that Thoracis could inflict on Logan was immeasurable, but the psion longed for it. It was much more than a sense of awe at the power the man possessed; it had become a phantasmal embrace of it. As much as the veteran had become stronger, so, too would Rakarth have been. The psion smiled as the sight and smell of a familiar landmark came into view.

McCloud dropped to one knee as he lowered his hand. Running his hand along the crimson liquid that stained the ground beneath him the smile faded. All around the psion hung ropes of varying lengths and thicknesses. Only a select few touched the blood that sat stagnant on the ground beneath him. The veteran raised his hand to his nose and sniffed. The putrid odor of death filled his nostrils causing him to gag. He coughed and then all was silent again.

Logan grinned an uncomfortable grin. As much as he hated the odor and the stench he loved the dramatic effect it posed to anyone who would partake of it. It wasn't so much a game of fear as much just a game. The two would play it, and play it well. There was no other way for them to play. It was just their way.

[Thoracis]

…And the games fools play when left to their own devices!

Thoracis Rakarth had faced countless numbers of Althanas’ denizens; man, woman, child, vampire, demon, elven, dark elven, dwarven… Innumerable warriors, one after another, with what some would call a reckless abandon. Out of them all there were few whom challenged him twice, even fewer whom he could recall their name, and only one who continued to intrigue and befuddle the mage. That man was Logan McCloud. He was one of Thoracis’ oldest acquaintances and perhaps the one he understood the least. Time after time he challenged the Aleranian ice mage and time after time Thoracis answered the call, hoping to someday understand what drove the young psion. This time was no different.

Under the circumstances it was likely to prove to be great folly on the part of Thoracis. The Serenti Invitational was soon to resume after an extended break, the Lornius Corporate Challenge was looming just on the horizon, and he had just been exiled from Alerar with a bounty on his head. Showing himself someplace as predictable as The Citadel could be signing his own death certificate. Thoracis had no fear of the Coronian government extraditing him to Alerar, there was certainly no love to be lost between the two, but there could be a great many suddenly brave individuals clouded by the dreams of claiming a bounty he could not allow them to have. From this point on anything the former General did had the potential to be messy. Still, Thoracis Rakarth was no puppet to the throne of Alerar and he was not about to start letting them control his actions.

In the light of a noonday sun he strode confidently through the streets of Radasanth; white robes freshly bleached, black porcelain mask imposing as ever, his liviol staff clenched tightly in a left hand formed entirely of solid ice. He was a beacon of power, both deserved and to be projected, a signal to all those who would look upon him with a lust for coin in their eyes: It’s here if you want it; I dare you to try.

The kindly Monks greeted Thoracis as he entered, uncaring of the situations of the outside world. Many a fugitive had sought amnesty within the confines of the great marble walls. More often then not the monks knew nothing of the daily news of the outside world and if they did in this case they showed no sign of it, only the respect that was to be expected of one of their oldest patrons. They led Thoracis to the room which Logan had selected with a hurried diligence, obviously picking up on the fact that the general was in no mood to waste time.

The door opened to a grisly scene. Blood covered the ground beneath some sort of tortuous ropes which created a scene not too unlike that in which Thoracis had last met Logan in the previous LCC. The smell of stale death filled Thoracis’ lungs like a long lost aroma and immediately his own blood began to flow faster. “I see you haven’t lost your flair for the dramatic,” Thoracis spoke softly as he approached the center of the room, turning as he walked to preview the whole of his surroundings, idly letting his right hand gently swing each rope it passed.

“It’s good to see you again Logan,” Thoracis stopped some six feet from his old foe. “Though I’m starting to wonder why you would seek me out once more.” His eyes wandered calmly, still taking in the scene. Finally he focused his gaze on Logan, “I can’t help but think, much like the blood that covers this floor, that your mind must be so shallow as to be all surface.”

If there was one thing Thoracis had learned about Logan McCloud it was that his words were the most stinging weapon he possessed. Logan was easy to rile up and the mage knew it. It was a tremendous advantage and one he was not ashamed to exploit. All that remained to be seen now was if this was the same Logan McCloud he had grown accustomed to.

[Logan]

”What does he mean shallow?” Logan felt the rage and fury building up inside, but as quickly as it began it was gone. The psion shot a quick smirk at the veteran mage,”Why Thoracis I thought you knew me better than that?” A chuckle escaped his lips before he began again, “Though, I do suppose I deserve such a greeting after having sought you out once more.” Logan rested his right hand gently upon the still sheathed shortsword's hilt raising the other as a show of non-aggression towards the mage. With a hint of sarcasm and untruth the warrior made his intentions known, “I mean you no harm; for now. I simply have some questions I'd like answered.”

The veteran psion inwardly laughed at such a thought. After all, Logan was the one who'd persuaded the monks to allow him this special arena, and it was Logan who'd managed to lure the mage into this trap. It seemed to the psion that for the moment everything was working out perfectly as planned, and that was a very good thing. Removing his hand from the hilt of his sword the psion motioned for Thoracis to take a seat, “My friend, let us sit and catch up on old times.” A smile pierced the lips of the psion once more. There was no way the mage would dare take a seat in this vile filth.

Logan reached out his hands and grabbed two of the ropes directly to his side. He yanked a couple of times to check their sturdiness and then took a few steps backward before swinging himself forward and ultimately ending up in a handstand like stance directly above where he just was. The psion released his grip on one of the ropes and slid down the other one head first before swinging his weight away from the mage and releasing his grip on the other. He was now a few extra steps away from the mage, and fully prepared for the coming assault.

There was one thing Logan figured Thoracis wouldn't take into account. Perhaps it was an oversight, a miscalculation, or perhaps it was just plain stupidity, but the psion felt he knew the mage better than anyone else on the face of Althanas. No one was better suited to defeat the master mage at his own game save the man who'd challenged him time and again, and despite their tremendous difference in power and ability managed to give the master a run for his money each and every time. To the able-bodied psion it was only a matter of time before the cracks in Rakarth's facade finally destroyed it.

[Thoracis]

As Logan made his acrobatic display with the ropes Thoracis could just look on, disappointingly watching as a teacher would watch his pupil make a mistake. All the psion had accomplished was to move himself further from Thoracis, who with his arsenal of spells drew an even larger advantage over the man wielding shortswords. If Logan was trying to entice Thoracis into attacking first, putting himself in such a position as to be unable to strike back seemed quite the folly.

Instead, Thoracis remained still, leaning over slightly as to rest his weight on his staff. “That’s it?” Thoracis began with an exasperated tone. He chuckled, “The only question you have in need of answering is whether or not you can defeat me. Otherwise we’d be in The Silver Pub talking over a glass of ale instead of this… place.” He knew his words to be fact, but he also knew that this was their game, and he was compelled to continue playing.

“You’re an interesting man Logan McCloud. You’re potential is limitless. I wouldn’t be here otherwise…”

And suddenly out of nowhere Thoracis darted forward, drawing upon years of elven training and the rune of speed embedded in his armor, almost instantly closing half of the distance between himself and Logan before he teleported forward, stopping a mere foot in front of the man. His voice raised slightly as he stared at Logan, face to mask as it were, “But I will tell you again now and answer your question for you… You cannot defeat me. Not today. Not any day.” He stared in Logan’s eyes a moment longer, hoping to have achieved a suitable level of intimidation before he turned his back on the larger man and began to walk towards the door.

A wicked smile pursed Thoracis’ lips at the enticement as he walked slowly towards the door. If their game was chess then the mage had just put Logan in check on the first move. Now the psion would have to make his move or lose without having moved a piece.

[Logan]

And so it was that the games had begun. McCloud was no less surprised than he was amused at the very thought. It really was their way to battle one another every way until all that remained was the physical mortal shell. The game was truly remarkable; it could best even the most legendary and powerful foes. To destroy from the inside out was just the perfect tactic. It was almost unstoppable, and both Thoracis and Logan played it incredibly well. But therein lay the problem.

The psion's lips pursed as he responded in ire, “I digress. You are correct. I only desire to see your downed pathetic carcass lying at my feet as you taste the misery of your own bloody defeat. Or...” Logan ended the thought there letting his opponent finish it for himself. As Thoracis teleported the psion's eyes grew quite large. It had been a long time since they'd fought, and the veteran had only heard rumors of his opponent's new skills. Now he would get to experience them first-hand; just the way he liked it. Then Thoracis did something unthinkable. He turned his back on his opponent.

Logan's eyes traced the image of Thoracis as he stepped away. The psion's hands made a move for his swords. All it would take was a quick thrust forward with one of them, but the psion could not bring himself to do it. His hands lowered and he realized his words would have to do the damage for him for now, “You say I cannot defeat you. Not today, not any day, not ever. I digress, I cannot, but perhaps...” A heartbeat later the psion had sent a psionic push outwards in Thoracis' direction. It was the ultimate low blow to a veteran like Thoracis.

”Check...,” Logan sent the telepathic thought outwards knowing full well the competently intelligent Rakarth would hear it, ”Your move, old friend.” The battle had begun.

[Thoracis]

Thoracis stumbled forward as a push from an unseen force hit him in the back. Cowardly psion tricks. Regaining his balance Thoracis turned to face Logan once more, slightly amused at the man’s choice of actions. “Trying to push me around like a schoolyard bully, Logan? You know me better then that.” An eighteen inch blade of ice grew slowly from the end of Thoracis’ staff.

“Is this what you want?”

Thoracis walked towards Logan again, pointing his bladed staff at the man’s chest.

“Draw your swords.”

Thoracis’ pace quickened.

“You’ll get your real test today.”

He flipped his staff away and it fell to the ground, resting idly in the bloody muck. His right arm became encased in ice, matching the left. The first move was a backhand slap with his left hand, aimed at Logan’s face. While normally this would be a mostly ineffective attack, with the extra force created by the sheer weight of an arm formed of ice it could easily break a man’s jaw if hit in the proper place. Thoracis followed with a right cross aimed for Logan’s ribcage.

With nothing but his two icy arms and Logan with his swords Thoracis knew he still wasn’t at a disadvantage. He knew his friend would know the same and recognize that Thoracis was toying with him. The only question was how Logan would respond…

[Logan]

The psion's eyes grew wide as Thoracis raised his staff with the iced blades. Perfect, the psion thought he'd gotten under his skin when out of nowhere, the veteran mage dropped his weapon. The muck beneath his feet splashed up around the staff engulfing it in a crimson stain. It was almost poetic, the beauty of something so utterly vile and disgusting.

Logan held strong. It wasn't his nature to attack first, but he had. Now he had to hold strong regardless the mage's tactics and words. The psion's eyes spotted the mage's ice encased fists and smiled. He had fallen for the trap and the psion was sure he had no idea either.

The first shot came as Logan reached out for a chain on either side of him. His head move slightly to the right as his hands crossed under and then over the arm of the mage as it soared past his head. The smile faded, though, as he was sent soaring backwards, his hands still desperately holding onto the chains. He flew back a few feet yanking on the chains as hard as he could to cease his movement. Swinging back towards the mage, Logan's feet came up from the air into a dropkick position aimed for the mage's chest.

”In case you didn't know, I always ace my tests,” the psion sent the telepathic communication aimed directly for the mage.

If the mage wanted a fight, he had one.

[Thoracis]

“Should have drawn your swords…”

Thoracis’ attacks were met with another display of cheap acrobatics. Always the show-off, Logan was. Unfortunately for the psion his petty tricks were not going to impress or intimidate someone like Thoracis. They never had. They never would. The second punch had sent Logan reeling backwards on the chains, pulling Thoracis' left arm which Logan had wrapped up. When his momentum stopped, Thoracis jerked back hard with his left arm, hoping to pull Logan back towards him faster.

His first thought was to cast his ice spike spell. It would be funny to watch Logan get impaled mid-air. Thoracis thought the better of it though. No point in ending it now. It is a game. Shouldn’t make it too easy on myself. Instead Thoracis simply stepped to the side, casting his slick spell on the chains Logan was holding. Logan was nearly to where Thoracis had been standing when the chains he was gripping suddenly became coated in solid, slippery ice.

Way more funny then impaling him.

“My dear Logan. What a situation. Perhaps you should fight someone more to your strength?” With a mocking casting gesture that was entirely unnecessary Thoracis summoned his ice elemental before the psion. “You appear to be failing this one so far. Here’s some extra credit.” All Thoracis had to do was point and the ice elemental started towards Logan…

[Letho]

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