The Minotaur Enters {Open to One}

[Brunvar]

The minotaur sat on his plain wooden cot, in his small stone room in the basement of the Citadel. The room was tiny and cramped and barely big enough to hold the large creature. The monks had stuffed him in here almost as an afterthought to wait for his battle. his head in his hands. It was an unusual gesture for the normally stoic or angry Brunvar. He was attempting to cope with a very unusual emotion, one that he was terribly unfamiliar with. Fear. He didn't quite recognize it for what it was, and he tried to skirt around the problem as best he was, but there it was. At the center of his being, a small ugly pouch of terror. He hadn't felt this afraid since he had left Salvar. Ever since then, things had actually seemed fairly simple. Fairly straightforward and not too difficult. His mind had been focused on one objective: reaching Scara Brae. Now that he was here everything seemed so much more complicated. He had put so much hope in the monk's ability to heal his shattered legs. So much hope, and then...nothing. They would not be able to help him. Not unless he helped them out first.

Well, that was why he was here, wasn't it? To battle within the Citadel, reclaim his honor, and someday to be worthy of the monk's healing. This was just the beginning, the first battle. His trip down the long labyrinthine path of time had to begin at some place. And today was the day.

His vague philosophical meanderings, however, were interrupted by a monk appearing in the doorway. The monk nodded at him and beckoned for him to follow down the corridor. Brunvar got up, greataxe strapped to his back, and trailed after him. He was forced to bend over uncomfortably so as to avoid bashing his head on the low stone ceiling. Clearly these quarters were not designed for one his size. He wondered how long he would have to stay here. Weeks? Months? Years?

The monk had to slow his pace so that Brunvar could keep up. He followed behind slowly, never bending his knees. He dragged his feet across the floor. That way he at least could avoid most of the debilitating pain. But it was slow, oh so slow. It seemed to take an eternity to the doorway the monk was leading him too. They had passed through a maze of corridors, doorways, passages, all lined by those strange purple glowing torches the monks of the Citadel seemed so fond of using. Now they arrived at a broad and high gateway, large enough for Brunvar to pass through easily.

The brooding minotaur nodded at the monk and passed through into the darkness of the room beyond. Neither of the two had spoken the whole time. Brunvar preferred it that way. It seemed unlikely that he would ever see the monk again.

Brunvar passed into the room slowly. Slowly the arena came into focus. It was a circular stone room, maybe with a radius of twelve feet, with a high domed roof. Around the very edge was drawn a thick red line of chipping paint. It was lit with dull purple torches, making the arena dim and out of focus. On the opposite side from Brunvar was another gate, identical to the one he had stepped through. The minotaur guess that would be where his opponent would come from soon. There seemed to be little exceptional about the ring other than that.

Grunting, Brunvar heaved his massive greataxe from off of his back. He held it in both hands and watched the gate, waiting for his opponent to enter.

Yup, this arena is intentionally fairly boring. I'd kind of like to focus on the battle and the action itself, if possible. Sometimes the setting overshadows the characters because it is so cool, which isn't that fun. OK, well, sometimes it's fun. But I'm not going for that here. So just a good ole' fashioned smack-down!

This thread is open to one other.

[Kiele]

Kiele had no intention of ever visiting the Citadel. She had heard about, read about it, and regarded it as nothing more as an excuse for people to brag about their strength. She was on the road when she heard its name again from two strangers who were passing by. The two strangers were speaking about an unusual creature who they going towards the Citadel. It was, indeed, a very rare creature—one that looked like a cross between a human and a bull.

A minotaur.

That was more than enough to cause Kiele to head straight for the Citadel. She had read about the race before. Her excitement made her footsteps seem lighter, but her face was placid, hiding her true emotions. It didn’t take her long to arrive to her destination, nor did it take her much time to spot the said creature. She saw it being led by a monk. Kiele wasn’t sure how things worked around here. She didn’t know if she could just follow the pair and enter the arena the monk picked for the minotaur, so she anxiously ran over to the nearest monk she could spot. The monk nodded at her curtly when he saw her step into his view.

“I want to go against the minotaur. He’s being led to a room by another monk. Please.”

This monk looked a bit surprised. He raised an eyebrow and looked Kiele up and down, as if wondering why such a tiny girl would want to go against something like that. He beckoned Kiele with his finger and started to go down a different pathway than the minotaur. Kiele wasn’t worried; she knew that these monks had their tricks that would get her in the same arena, whatever path they took. It took several minutes until the monk stopped in front of a grand gateway. He gave Kiele another curt nod and left.

This was it. Kiele had no choice but to battle against him to actually find out more about this creature. She took of her dark coat—it would get in the way—and tucked it inside her bag. Then, she readjusted the rope that held her bag of arrows. That action served no real purpose; it was more of a habit. Finally, she quickly walked towards the gateway and into the arena they would be using.

It was a room that made her feel tiny. Opposite her, the minotaur stood, and she gave him more attention than the arena they were in. He was huge, easily three times her size. His fur was so obviously thick, even under the dim light. What caught her attention the most were the grand horns that were on his head. She couldn’t help but quirk a smile, wondering how much these would sell in the market. She had already talked herself into going into the Citadel, walking out with some valuable spoils would just make the trip more worthwhile.

She couldn’t think of what to do next. The young girl fidgeted with the handle of her crossbow. She looked the minotaur straight in the eye for the first time, noticing even more how terrifying it looked. She asked, “Should we start?”

For a split second, Kiele felt something painful in her chest. She associated it with thrill, trying to drown out any hint of fear within her.

Good luck to us both. (:

[Brunvar]

Were the monks mocking him? Brunvar felt that it was a distinct possibility. Sending to battle him a small girl? She was just over half his height! Unless there was greatly, greatly concealed depths to her, this mismatch was an absurdity. He would have expected a great warrior, a mighty knight, a powerful mage, but this…this was simply absurd. Crippled he was, but no weakling! It was an insult, surely. Looking down upon his diminutive opponent, he saw little to make him feel differently. In her hand rested a crossbow, of all weapons. In a close combat arena, that was foolishness itself. Brunvar snorted. At least this would not be difficult. Best to get it over with, and then address with the monks themselves the foolish choices they had made. It was not the girl’s fault that she was paired against him. She would die quickly and honorably.

Still, there were some formalities that had to be observed. Traditions that had to be kept against even the most pathetic of opponents in a duel. Important traditions to Brunvar. Without ceremony, how would you know your history, your past? And without tradition, how would you see your future?

He bowed deeply, until his head sank nearly to the level of the girl. As he returned to a standing position he spoke. Slowly his words dragged out, their movements out of his throat tectonic in their speed of movement and gravity of purpose.

“The passage goes on, we cannot avoid it. It has brought us here. One’s journey shall continue, the other shall make its end. So it shall be.”

Brunvar spat upon the ground, sealing the ancient words with matter from his body.

“I am Brunvar Grunderson, son of Chieftain Grunder, son of Chieftain Valmug.”

He spoke gravely, his mouth set grimly. All the while he looked the girl up and down, gauging her skill and power. Her life would end this day. Brunvar felt it. One would enter, one would leave…Brunvar’s passage would continue, hers would not. So it would be. He knew that this must be the decision fate would make. His destiny was to return to his clan, a healed Minotaur. Then he would take his place as Chieftain. Nothing could deter him from this path. Not monks and especially not small girls. The ritual words, however, were not yet completed.

“On this day, you are my friend. I hail you as my broth-” Brunvar faltered. The words had not made allowance for a female opponent. “sister.” he finished slowly.

“Your honor shall not die.” he finished. With that, Brunvar nodded once towards his opponent. It was her turn to speak, after all. Surely even these heathens knew the proper way to begin a duel? This land was supposedly ‘civilization.’ Were not the same sacred rights practiced everywhere?

Perhaps they were not. Brunvar felt slightly uncertain. He shifted his hold upon his axe slightly. For the first time that day, he felt the smallest bit of doubt. Surely, if the monks had sent a small girl against him, there must have been a reason. To trick him? Had all of this been a mirage? Why, then? None of it made sense. Brunvar, however, did not ask questions. He did not lunge forward, as some of his hot-headed companions may have done in days past. He merely waited for the girl to speak. That was the way the tradition went. Nothing was more important than tradition.

[Kiele]

The minotaur spoke with abstract words which gave Kiele the delusion that he was reading from an ancient textbook. The tone and tremor matched his appearance, and the girl wondered if anything about him was less than intimidating. Kiele stared at him squarely in the eyes, her placid expression never faltering. Her lips were pursed into a thin line, nothing like a smile or a frown. She waited for him to finish his introductions. She never expected minotaurs to have such need for ancient battle customs.

She wasn’t sure why, but she could feel the judgemental eyes that met hers. It didn’t surprise her. She was aware of her small figure. The girl also knew about how her weapon posed so many disadvantages. None of these bothered her—how many times had she been overlooked in the past? So many times, and she always stood her stance and broke the barricades set for her.

“Brunvar Grunderson,” she greeted, giving him a slight nod. She vaguely remembered him uttering some other titles which she didn’t take into mind. “My name is Kiele Rainth.”

That was all she could say about herself. She added dully, “I’ve been uttered those words about passages, journeys and ends before. I’ve already met death once, and I apologize, but I have no intention of doing so again. Let me tell you this, my honor will definitely not die, neither will yours. Just walking into this extraordinary arena alone is enough to redeem it, don’t you think? ” She could have spat on the ground as he did, but she saw no reason to defile the magical arena that the monks had offered to them. Besides, her short monologue served no other purpose than her voicing out her disagreement with his words.

She gave him a wry smile. Her crossbow was still clutched in her hand. She was trying to figure out how she would win this battle as her eyes quickly scanned throughout the room for the first time. The girl memorized every measurement into her head, taking special note of the high domed roof. She first needed to know how he attacked, how he defended. Because of that, the girl didn’t want to make the first move.

“Please, come,” she asked, beckoning him with her empty hand. At the same time, a ring of fire suddenly enveloped the perimeter around her, ready to defend her against petty attacks. It caused shadows to flicker all throughout the room. That included the grand silhouette the minotaur cast against the walls, the one that resembled a beast.

[Brunvar]

Silently Brunvar listened to the words of the small girl. He did not move even a single muscle an onlooker perhaps would even have confused him for an extraordinarily hairy statue he was so still. The girl's little speech interested him somewhat. She did not use the ancient forms, and though that bothered him slightly he did not feel angry. It could not be expected that all foreigners, especially humans, especially females would know the proper things to say, after all. Her words were oddly honorable enough, in their own certain way. The gist of her speech was what he would have liked to hear in any circumstance. Clearly there was a strong element of self-delusion there though. There was absolutely no chance such a small creature could defeat the proud minotaur warrior. Fate would not allow it. Brunvar would not allow it.

Magic! The fire surprised him somewhat at first, and once again he felt doubt gripping his heart. There really was some unknown quantity about this opponent, wasn't there? If she could make such a ring appear easily, what other feats of prestidigitation could she be capable of? Brunvar disliked magic greatly, thinking it to be fairly distasteful and lacking in honor and finesse. It was the tool of cowards, and weaklings. Of course, allowances could be made in such a mismatch, the minotaur supposed. Perhaps magic would even out this fight just enough to make it interesting? Hopefully it would be so. He would still win, of course, but it would be a much more honorable victory.

Then Brunvar came to his senses and realized just how small the fiery ring was. It was probably only four, no, three feet tall? It didn't even reach all the way up to his knees. Such a pathetically small effort! Comparable to his mighty size, a spell like that would be relatively useless unless he happened to trip and fall by accident, something which seemed fairly doubtful. It was almost pathetically sad. If such was the girl's magic, this was just as mismatched as he had felt before. Feeling a slight amount of pity, and resolving to end things as quickly and humanely as possible, Brunvar stalked forward. He walked very slowly, trying to look deliberate and powerful in his movements. In reality, he was the sort of shuffling step out of necessity. Not bending his needs, it took Brunvar far longer than it should have to begin his walk towards the arena center. Eventually he made his way onto the girl's side of the arena.

It was time to test this girl's potential. He hoisted his axe up in one hand and pulled it backwards, setting up for a mighty but slow blow. He swung his arm around in one grand motion, putting enough force behind the blow to swipe clean off the head of even the most sturdy of humans. This blow he sent towards the girl's neck. It would be easy enough to dodge, he knew, for he intentionally had slowed the speed of the attack. How she dodged though...that was important. He must not get overconfident in this battle. Caution would be his ally here, there was no need to allow his pride to lead him into a foolish trap...

[Kiele]

Kiele raised an eyebrow. She knew she was being underestimated, but this much? The minotaur was incredibly slow in his steps. Anticipating his move, she just stood there, waiting in her wall of fire that was already starting to fade away. When he was a lot closer, the fire had completely dissipated. ‘What a waste,’ she thought. Kiele couldn’t see that well in the weak light, and she wanted the fire to show her how he moved, even just for a while—it would have been to her advantage later on.

Even the way he lifted his weapon was unhurried. The girl got a better look at it from that distance. His weapon looked like it was made of either iron or steel, and she at least knew that the handle was made of wood. What kind of wood? With the way he was swinging it around, she wouldn’t be surprised if it gave away sooner or later.

Kiele saw the way his body moved as he readied his attack, and she already knew she wouldn’t survive if she didn’t dodge. It wasn’t too difficult to do so, because of his speed, and she very quickly but simply jumped backwards, being missed by the axe completely. She felt a strong gust of wind hit her neck. That was how powerful he was.

“Interesting,” she said softly, not really expecting to be heard. She was muck quicker than him, reaching for one arrow and aiming it towards his neck. He was wearing no armor, which meant he was confident that he didn’t need any. That meant he probably had the natural ability to defend himself, and in most creatures, the neck was one of the weakest parts of the body. It was her best shot.