lets fight!!! (open)

[Cade_Smith]

Cade let out a sharp whistle when he walked into the arena that the monks had created for him. He was not sure if the brown cloaked monks would make anything of worth, but what they had created for him was awe-inspiring. It was damp, quiet, and filled with misery. The marshes on the other side of the small door were dark and filled with silence. There was not a living creature inside the room. The young man looked around, happy to be on solid ground for the time being. Under his feet was one of five patches of solid ground. It was alive with long grass bending under his booted feet. Before him was a large open area filled with murky water that looked more like sewage than anything natural.

The sorcerer took a step into the mud-like ground. His knee high boots sank almost to the top and he was suddenly very unhappy with his decision to come to the Citadel. Thick trees were mostly sunk into the marsh, knees sprouting all around the trunks of the soft cyprus trees. Cade lifted his feet and stepped onto the knobby trees roots that came out of the swamp. He could smell the rot of whatever had sunk into the marshes, and was unsurprised when a bubble popped on the surface and let out a scent that smelt a lot like someone releasing their gas.

“Monks, they said this place was going to suit my fancy. They lied. This place is gross, and how am I even supposed to move or anything in this muck?” Cade complained, but it only made him feel better because he was venting his anger on something other than himself. He did not take credit for joining the arena, or the Citadel’s games. “I wonder when my opponent will get here?”

[BattleMage]

Swaying trees outside the citadel radiated with the cheerful chirps of birds. The mage grinned at this signal, which marked the departure of winter from the heart of Corone. Even after the frigid touch of the season could no longer be felt in Radasanth, a harsh breeze still blew throughout the countryside. It symbolized that spring would be a difficult time for the farmers, who often found themselves preparing their fields in that time. This year winter had come and gone leaving only small traces of it's stay. Despite cold weather, the trees throughout Concordia and on either side of the South Road were not effected. They still held onto their lush natural leaves from the prior spring. It created the setting of change and reminded the mage what he was trying to do in the citadel today.

I need to up my game, he thought as images of his last visit crossed through his mind. I refuse to lose like that again and when Lorenor returns, I'll be ready.

Haunted by the memory of defeat, the mage once again found himself entering the main hall of the citadel. It was surprising to see that the hustle and bustle of the place also hadn't been effected by the seasons change. All around the adventurer were the shining faces of young hopefuls, much like his last visit, however this time he wasn't the newcomer. Feeling stronger already due to the hectic training schedule he had endured in the winter, he was ready to be tested by the monks. He wouldn't be swept off his feet again by the prowess of a stranger, no, this time the determined lad would emerge the victor and regain a fragment of dignity he had lost.

"Young Derrick Magnum! I was under the impression we wouldn't be seeing you until Lord Lorenor's return." The familiar face of a monk who had witnessed his match against the mutant emerged from the crowd. He illuminated wisdom with each patient step he took towards the mage. "So what do we owe this honor?"

Derrick paused, prodding the ground below with the spear end of Astra, his oak staff. "I'm here to test myself, maybe this time against a warrior closer to my skill level." Derrick knew he was still young and lacked the proper abilities to compete with people like Lorenor, but everyone had to start somewhere.

"Ah, a confidence boaster?!" A stunted grin emerged from beneath a thicket of black mustache hair, "I have something that might fit your request."

~~~~~~~~~~

The bog around Derrick oozed an unappealing muck, causing him to bite hard on his lower lip. It seemed that there were five dry patches for the mage to stand and avoid the filthy waters that surrounded. Instead of avoiding the filth, Derrick chose to get right to it, sifting his right hand through the motionless grime. It was rather warm for something that had fermented on top on the shallow waters beneath. The mage withdrew his hand, which was coated with a thick glaze of mud like substance, and smeared it across his face.

Tastes like shit. He thought before jumping from his grassy platform into it.

It was an odd choice to attempt a dive, the water only being about two and a half feet deep, but he dove anyway. Within moments the foam and green goop of the swamp covered his body, coating him with a natural camouflage. As Derrick stood up he noticed a familiar face, one of another young mage he had met during his reclusive state in Underwood.

"Cade?!" Derrick grinned trying to wipe away the gunk that was streaming down his face and into his open mouth. "Wow man, I thought I'd never see you again!"

In truth Derrick had changed from the groveling man Cade had met in The Peaceful Promenade months earlier. He was no longer trapped in the endless tunnel of self doubt and loneliness. Instead he turned all of his mixed emotions into determination, making him one devoted son of a bitch, and to some extent he owed Cade a thank you.

"Well maybe we can play catch up later but for now you better get ready," Derrick scanned the field around them trying to establish a game plan. "I'm not going to hold back and I don't expect you to either!"

[Cade_Smith]

Why had Cade come to the Citadel? That was a mystery even to him. He had never fought another person before, especially not a person who he expected to show up at the Citadel. The hallways were filled with warriors and mages, a term he had only recently learned about. The young sorcerer was worried who would come through the doors and what they would do to him. If it was a man with a sword and armor he knew he would not be able to fight them very well. Same with wizards or mages that had more powerful spells. Instead of thinking about who would come through the door Cade pushed his back against the cyprus tree and poked at the grime on the top of the swamp with his staff.

“This is gross. I should have picked something myself instead of letting the monks chose where the fight would be.” Cade squeezed his nose when another series of bubbles reached the surface and let out a methane smelling burp. He shook his staff and got rid of the sticky stuff clinging to the bottom of it. The murk did not let go, and he sorcerer was forced to wipe it on a hanging branch. The leaves were just as dark as the pool beneath, but accepted their role as towels well. He heard a punk, which sounded a lot like a splash but not when the water was thick and muddy. “Maybe that’s my opponent?”

From the swamp rose a creature, covered from head to toe. Its face was covered in the sticky mud, but it seemed to know him. Cade looked at the thing that had come from the waters and turned his head sideways when it called his name. The young sorcerer squinched his eyes. He was trying to see through the muck to see what it was that was calling him, as well as who. Then he remembered the voice, and the pointy ears which were covered in mud. “Derrick!”

Since the two had met, Cade had been wandering around Corone, meeting new people and generally learning more about the world. Before the Peaceful Promenade he had not met a lot of people, nor had any real friends. As a child he had grown up in an outpost somewhere in the countryside of Corone, living with his family. They were traders and merchants but did not travel anywhere, instead waiting for others like them to pass through and trade. It was a fluke accident of a budding sorcerer which caused that life to be destroyed. While sleeping one night, he woke with the smell and heat of fire, but it was in his room, burning everything. Later he realized that he had the ability to throw fireballs, magical fireballs, and he assumed it was his fault.

“I won’t hold back, I haven’t fought anyone ever but I think I know how this works. The monks said I can’t die, but I don’t know why. I assume that means that no matter what happens in here it won’t be like that when we leave.” Cade looked around, trying to find the door that he had come in through, and the one that Derrick had come in through too. Neither door was visible. He said nothing about the confusing lack of doors, and instead remained on top of the knees. “Let’s fight! I can’t wait to see what a real mage can do!”

[BattleMage]

Warriors came from all over the known world to the citadel for many reason. Whether it was to test their skills in a safe place or to fully experience the fear and pain involved with dying. While Cade was in a sense right about not being able to fully die, he had looked over one major factor, that the experience of dying still remained. It was a surreal feeling of misery and pain, at least that was what Derrick had felt when he was struck dead by the blade of Lorenor. Just because they were in the sheltered halls, under the heavy watch of the Ai'Brone, didn't mean that the emotions they were about to face wouldn't be realistic.

Naive young Cade, you're in for a harsh wake up call.

As Derrick trudged through the muck towards his foe he couldn't help but to notice his effect on the environment. The water around him was constantly rippling due to his patient movements. It brought the stunning realization that even the weakest of beings could directly have an effect on the world that surrounded them. Until this point Derrick had felt weak and insignificant when compared to the antics of Lorenor or many other big names throughout Althanas.

One day my time will come, but until then I'll just work with what I got. The revelation symbolized a change in his life, one that would one day lead him down a path of greatness.

Without anymore delay, Derrick charged with unnatural speed towards his opponent. Within a matter of moments he closed the gap between the two and was underway with his opening strike. It was a quick downward slash with Astra that had been aimed at Cade's forehead. There was an intense burn in Derrick's forearm muscles as he came down with amazing speed.

I hope your ready pal! He thought, throwing everything he had into the strike.

[Cade_Smith]

“He isn’t talking, maybe he is worried about dying?” The question made the young sorcerer worry. If the elf mage was worried about dying, and he seemed to have more experience than Cade, then should Cade be worried about it too? The monks had said that the battlers could not die, that they would be revived. But what happened until they were revived? Would they go to wherever it was dead souls went after they were killed until the monks brought them back? Suddenly, the young human was not as happy about his choice of entertainment for the day. It was one thing to know you would not die, it was quite another to have to answer for his mortal sins every time he died in the Citadel only to be revived again. “Cade Smith, killer of his own family. I don’t like that title, I don’t think that the gods will like it either. I don’t want to die.”

Cade was determined not to be killed, ever. It was one thing to know you could not die, made him feel almost immortal. It was how he felt when he had entered the arena to meet whatever enemy would come to fight. However, it was something else entirely when immortality came with the cost of dying first. That made him feel less like an immortal, more like a dead mouse constantly being revived to be toyed with by the cat that killed him.

The cat for the day was Derrick, or maybe it would be Cade, only time would tell.

Derrick charged towards the sorcerer. His staff was in front of him like a spear, and despite the murky waters he seemed to move so quickly. Quickly the human’s staff was whipped off his back and waiting in both hands for an attack. The heavy oak staff, Astra from what Cade remembered after their first meeting, was raised with both hands. It was a hammer blow towards his face. The young man turned it sideways and put his arms out. Standing on top of the cyprus knees, Cade had a height advantage.

Two wooden staffs met with a resounding clap, and Cade’s arms were pushed down towards his face. He kept his place though. The power of his opponent was not as amazing as he was expecting. He leaned back against the tree instead of losing his balance and pushed his opponent’s weapon away from his face. In the same motion he hopped away from the knees, putting them between his body and Derricks. Hastily he slashed the weapon sideways towards his opponent’s chest to create distance between the two.

[BattleMage]

Friends turned enemies. That was the scene in the gloomy swamp, as Cade quickly redirected the elf's telegraphed strike -one that reeked of inexperience- and created what seemed like a world of distance between the two. The human had dodged with haste to the other side of the rotted roots that dug their greedy hands into the bog, as if they were searching for some distant mineral, one that was surely absent in the muck of the swamp.

The maneuver had bought Cade a moment to collect his thoughts, but it also gave Derrick a second to cast his first of many spells. With a stab of his staff he let loose an unseen force, that scurried over the filthy waters towards his foe. With hopes of cutting his opponent's strength by one fourth, the elf mage cast his infamous spell, Weaken. It would hit it's target, Derrick was sure of that, the spell never missed. The effects however were yet to be said, if his spell had worked his foe would begin showing signs instantly.

There wasn't time for the mage to wait though, as he quickly dove under the blackened water. He swam under the water, only peeking his dirty head momentarily to breathe in the much needed oxygen from the swamp's surface. For now he would wait, watch for signs that his spell had hopefully worked.

[Cade_Smith]

The staff swing was basically unnoticed, as if he was swatting at a fly instead of another person his size. Much did not seem to slow the mage, neither thick grime nor half-hearted attempts to harm him. Cade was impressed. In his first fight he was holding his own against another magic user. He had expected a sound trouncing, blasts of arcane energy to be surging between the trees. Derrick, when he had first met him in the Promenade, was a man who seemed stressed and dangerous. Meeting him in a Citadel match was not planned, but it brought back memories of not only the elf, but the other man who had entered the tavern as well. The smell of the swamp was close to as bad as what had clung to Dace, who had an unfortunate run in with an overflowing outhouse full of poo.

Cade watched the man move his staff as if he was casting a spell, but he could not see what it was and could not guess how to avoid it. If something was going to come, the sorcerer was unable to block it. He felt the effects long before he realized what they had done. Body weakened, Cade was at a loss for why his muscles felt less tense and more like rubber. Cade’s hands were weaker and he suddenly worried about what had happened. Did Derrick have more spells than he was aware of?

“Are you a mud fish or something?” The sorcerer yelled at his momentary foe. He seemed to want to be under the mucky water much more than standing up and fighting. Cade was welcome to stand up and throw spells at each other, that was what he had practiced. But fighting saplings and random bushes made it very hard to practice against someone who moved around, and of course random flora never fought back. “Get out here, I want to fight, not swim around in this gross place.”