Ice Skating For Demons (Closed)

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s footsteps echoed down the marbled floor of the grand citadel, his eyes lazily looking upon each portrait of the history of the Randasanthian crown jewel. Long tapestries and elaborate pictures of mighty duels, epic battles, and all sorts of other wonders littered the walls like discarded waste. As he looked to each masterpiece he could only think of one thing:

Why would anyone care?

For Jensen it was a simple question. One that usually ran down his cerebral cortex over and over as he walked through life. Most times he asked himself aloud, hoping that someone passing by would give him the answer. Sorely disappointed he became as nobody seemed to understand the enigmatic immortal. That suited him just fine, for he didn’t understand the outside world.

Fate blew strange winds at Jensen, cursing him with the blessing of Immortality. He had lived through these horrific battles that the artists painted on the walls of the Citadel. He had been in those grueling duels with heart stabbed and soul torn asunder by powerful magics. Why anyone would want to remember such tragic events was beyond him. How such pictures could move someone was even more baffling. It mattered little though. He was on a training mission, and so he arrived at the number one place in all of Althanas to pick up a sword and join the horde.

As a senior member of the knights he had rarely been asked to do such trifle things, but even a member of the Knights of Apocalypse had to keep his skills sharp. Simple exercises and morning routines would never equate to real battlefield experience, so the order would usually send their knights out to the citadel to work out the kinks and battle jitters.

Jensen figured there was some logic to that, but for the most part he didn’t agree. To him the citadel was just a fancy flamboyant excuse to get yourself killed before dinner. A place like this rarely tested anyone’s potential or brought out the real battle heartened experience that live combat would breed.

That was just his opinion though. Being immortal rarely let things phase him like the concept of actually dying on the field of battle. As true as the sun would rise the next day so to would Jensen. His rotten luck in life.

However the citadel never disappointed the senior knight of a good chuckle.

Jensen approached the monks at the large oaken desk in the center of the huge structure, his eyes scanning all the available battles with a bored look. Nothing really struck a chord with him and so with his finger tapping his chin he stepped forward.

“Greetings,” the monk said jovially as he prepared himself to write out Jensen’s every desire for battle. “How may we serve you today?” The immortal thought about it for a moment before he spoke with a set confidence.

“I would like to create my own arena,” he said lightly dropping his hands down to the table looking into the grey eyes of the monk before him. “Glacier, large one in the middle of nowhere, like an icecap at sea. Smooth surface so there is no traction surrounded by large icicles, spiked shaped in varying sizes. Depending on how bad you screw up you could get lacerated or impaled through your gut. After a set period of time, determined by you for added fun, I want the winds to pick up and begin a freezing blizzard complete with snowy start and donut hole sized hail.”

The monk wrote down each detail with as much description before he lifted the paper up and gave it a once over. Satisfied he added the time the blizzard would start and nodded in satisfaction handing it over to the immortal.

“Just slap it on the door when you are ready, and the magics within this building will make your arena. And requests for a foe?” Jensen shrugged.

“Just someone who has a healthy appetite for violence.” he muttered walking towards his arena.

The arena size is a thirty by thirty circle with spikes facing inwards towards us. Slippery surface with no traction, so we'll be sliding around a lot. PM me if you have questions and lets have a blast!

[Khalxaen]

’We are back here. Why are we back here?’

The corner of Khalxaen’s lips twitched with annoyance as she listened to her sword’s question. Skoteinos, a sentient weapon, mostly only spoke when it was disapproving of the demon’s choices. Khalxaen looked at walls they passed through, not really caring to answer. She had been here a couple of times before—lost a great deal, but always loved the adrenaline the battles gave her. And of course, she loved how she always knew she could get out alive. The Citadel was the perfect place to satisfy her bloodlust.

Why are we back here?’

Khalxaen replied, “We’re back here to find you a partner, you imbecile. There should be some idiots to steal a weapon from.” Skoteinos was meant for dual wielding, but Khalxaen never cared to find another weapon for her free hand. Skoteinos stayed silent at this. It knew that the demon was lying. Khalxaen was here because she needed to fight—she needed the scent of blood running through her veins.

She turned a few corners, ignoring the decor on the walls. She’s seen them before, and they all looked alike. The demon could hear people murmuring by the side, and one human was boasting loudly about the battle he had just won. Khalxaen could sense demons, some disguised as humans; and Khalxaen knew that almost everyone there, just like her, had the same agenda: bloodlust and violence. It was a trait about herself that Khalxaen was slowly accepting. She had tried to push it away at first, but she knew it would only get worse.

“I want to battle,” stated Khalxaen when she finally found a monk to speak to. The monk blinked and looked at her up and down, and then back at the paper he was holding. He coughed once before speaking to her.

“Conditions?”

“Nothing. A fun fight, that’s all,” said Khalxaen as she gave him a fanged grin. The monk coughed again and stood up, beckoning Khalxaen to follow him. The demon nodded and walked behind the monk, until he stopped before a door with a paper stuck to it. Without saying anything else, he walked away again, muttering something about her looking violent enough. Khalxaen knew that wasn't true: she was a petite demon and while she didn't look gentle, she probably didn't look morbid either. The monk could probably sense something else within her.

The demon gripped her sword but didn’t take it from its sheath. Smirking to herself, she stepped forward and pushed the door open. She gasped as the sudden cold air met her lungs. Khalxaen stepped into the arena, and she immediately almost lost her footing. The floor was ridiculously slippery. Looking around, she could see that enormous spikes littered the walls. They all faced towards the center of the arena.

Khalxaen couldn’t help but grin. It was a clever idea. One wrong move against the slippery floor could send you towards the spikes, impaling you.
“Nice, nice,” the demon stated towards her opponent, wondering what kind of fighter he would be.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s teeth chattered as he instantly regretted his choice of battle. He never really liked the cold. Freezing to death was just something that you never really got used to, even if you were an immortal. He prayed to the horsemen that somebody would come fight him before hypothermia claimed his life.

As if his prayer was answered the knight turned to see his opponent. He looked at the foe with an appraising eye and with a few seconds of real hard blank staring he began to look around the horizon. He covered his eyes from the sunlight, making sure he wasn’t being blinded by its magical light of his real opponent. When the girl nodded to the arena with approval he felt a wave of disappointment fill him.

“When is your daddy getting here?” Jensen called out to her, feeling the cold nip at his fingers. “I don’t have time to play dolls with you. I got some real work cut out for me.” He took a step forward and his balance nearly was lost as he twirled on one leg and balanced himself out be dropping to one knee and spinning slowly in place a few inches towards her.

Not his proudest moment he figured but at least he didn’t fall flat on his ass. When he stood up his boot slipped on the ice and with flailing arms he fell onto his back, making a few tiny fissures in the icy ground. Now he felt foolish. He had underestimated just how slippery the ground was, but though he did seem foolish, he was actually learning quickly.

If the ground was this slippery then he had a huge advantage in the fight. He noticed the girl had a sword, and thus would need to close the gap in order to make use of it. This made his ranged weapons rather effective. He let a predatory grin cover his face as he pulled out a throwing glaive and let it loose without warning towards her torso.

Let’s see you dodge that without making a fool of yourself, he thought. If the girl was really in the fight she would have to dodge it. If she was hiding her father or brother or whoever her guardian was he would have to reveal himself to save her.

Either way he let the grin on his face widen as the battle begun.

[Khalxaen]

Khalxaen couldn’t help but give a loud laugh as her opponent fell to the ground. That’s what he got for mocking her. The demon didn’t even have the time to react to his words or to laugh for a few more seconds, because before she knew it, a glaive was coming towards her way. Surprised, she gave a yelp as her instincts told her to duck. Forgetting for a moment about the slippery floor, she fell on her knees and hands and skidded forward. The glaive hit the wall before her, and she heard it fall to the floor.

The ground was freezing under her touch, and she could feel the tips of her fingers start to go numb. She immediately tried to get up, but all she succeeded in doing was slide her hands and knees across the floor. Growling, she grabbed Skoteinos from her belt and pierced it against the ice, causing the ice around it to fracture a little. Using her sword for balance, she hefted herself up and tried her best to plant her feet on the ground. She did all this in the fastest way she could muster, because judging from the man’s earlier attack, she knew he was quick—something she shouldn’t underestimate.

The demon glanced around the arena again, trying to think of the quickest strategy. She focused her attention on her opponent and tried to gather as much information as possible. He was about a foot taller than her—and a human. His build, like most people, was sturdier than hers. She hoped this meant that she was the more agile one. The human most probably had more throwing weapons, something which would prove powerful against her. At the moment, she mused that getting close to him would get rid of the disadvantage. Khalxaen could see a blade with him, and she wondered if he was any good in wielding it.

Of course, there was only one way to find out.

Khalxaen grabbed Skoteinos from the ground and impulsively charged at him. She had only taken a few steps forward before she completely lost control of her footwork, the ground making her skid across in the quickest way possible. The demon couldn’t stop or control her direction at this point, but she was going right at him in a very rapid manner, and that was all that mattered to her at this point. She minimized her movements to avoid falling to her knees again, and her short stature made it easier for her to balance since she was much closer to the ground, hence her center of gravity was lower than most people.

The demon held Skoteinos to her side, pointing the blade right at her opponent. She hoped that it would pierce him, the added speed contributing to the impact.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jensen said softly getting up as he watched the girl charge for him, sword in hand and ready to go. “Guess I am fighting the kid.” She was moving at a decent pace, sliding on the ice for added speed and momentum but she became a slave to her own attack. This made the immortal laugh at her own inexperience.

As she was about to cross into range he reached down towards his punch knife and pulled it out using it to let her blade cross the metal. The impact was soft but Jensen placed all his weight into pushing her away from him as he sent her to the edge of the fighting arena.

Jensen then learned about the principles of force. By taking a step to counter her attack and then step into her body to smash her away he added his own momentum to the attack. This was instinct any warrior had and he couldn’t have taken the move back if he had the ability to. Training had taken over in that moment and he learned a valuable lesson for his rush in strategy. He sailed away from the girl in the exact opposite direction.

He twirled trying to stop as he flailed around, his body getting closer and closer to the wall. He screamed a curse out from his lips as he braced for impact, and in one move he took severe damage to his shoulder as a spike impaled it through the muscle very close to the bone. Blood sprayed out onto the ground as well as Jensen's knee as it steamed upon the frozen tundra below.

Pain lined his nerves up and down his left arm as he howled out in agony, cursing and spitting as the freezing grip of the ice numbed the entire arm. His punch dagger felt weightless in his wounded hand and it clattered onto the ground as he fumbled his frozen fingers to his belt to find a throwing knife. He at last grasped one and he brought it up and stabbed at the spike with a frenzy of motion until it snapped off.

Clenching his teeth he pushed on the narrow side to lift the intrusion upwards before grinding his teeth and pulling the foreign object out of his body. Warm blood dripped from his wound, a small wisp of steam erupting from the wound as he cradled his busted arm in his hand. He continually tapped it trying everything he could to get feeling back into his numb limb, but to no avail. With a mighty curse he summed up his feelings.

“SHIT!” He looked right where the girl had went and slammed the throwing knife into his mouth biting down on it hard as his tongue licked the edge of the weapon. He pulled out another into his good arm as he took one step forward and leaned into it, sliding towards his foe with a look of determination. Laughter began to bubble up inside his stomach and it came out a muffled cry of hysterics as he charged at her.

[Khalxaen]

“Shit...!” Khalxaen cursed under her breath as she was sent skidding towards the wall. She had not planned her attack thoroughly enough, and her opponent was a quick-thinker. The demon tried to plunge her sword into the ice again, the same tactic she had done for multiple times now. It was almost futile because of the speed she was going at.

The blade pierced the ground, and while the friction did cause her to slow down, it wasn’t significant enough. Quickly looking over her shoulder, she could see that she was going to hit the spikes on the wall. Panicking, she exerted more effort to using her sword to stop her momentum—in the process, she slipped completely, falling on her bottom and skidding across the ground. The demon lost her grasp on her sword and she heard it slide across the floor, a few feet away from her.

Out of instinct, she tried to use her hands to stop herself from skidding further—of course that was futile. The demon gave a loud scream as her left arm hit a spike. An excruciating pain shot through her limb as the spike pierced it, the blood seeping through her clothes almost instantly. Growling and not thinking about the consequences, she yanked her arm violently to free herself. The blood dripped down to her wrist and to her fingers, littering the floor. She bit her lips and tried to ignore the searing pain, trying to focus on her surroundings. She could smell blood aside from hers. Her opponent was also bleeding. The demon felt that familiar, burning sensation in her chest again, and she inhaled sharply, taking in the intoxicating scent.

Her opponent was charging at her now. Giving another growl and baring her fangs, she hoisted herself to her feet with her uninjured arm. Her sword was a good distance away from her, and she knew she couldn’t get to it in time. The human was bleeding from the shoulder. Just like her, he had also hit the wall. Khalxaen’s ears twitched at the sound of his laughter. Irritated, she glared at him.

“Pagos...!” The demon yelled as she raised her hand in the air. Spikes of ice, three in number, materialized around the area of her hand. They were a feet long and about as sharp as blades. Though they were nothing compared to the size of most of the ones that were on the wall, they were still menacing enough. As quick as she could, she gestured towards her opponent, and the spikes went rushing towards him in the air. Right after she called this attack, the demon lunged as quickly as she could towards her blade, with a plan to grab it.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen noticed the newly formed ice weapons that flew right at him and his eyes widened in surprise. That wasn’t a trick he expected the little girl to know. He was already skating right at them, and he wouldn’t be able to dodge them all in time. Bracing for the worst he lowered himself into a tight ball, still shuffling across the ice with his momentum as he brought the dagger in his hand down hard dragging it along the ice like nails on a chalkboard.

The first of the three threats hit the knight hard in the upper region of his already injured shoulder. The icicle’s velocity caused him to spin wildly as he let out a roar of pain dropping the throwing knife in is mouth. Blood splashed all around him like a boiling pot of water and his balance started to fail him. The next projectile impaled him in his upper left deltoid and the entire torso of the immortal was caked in blood as it poured from his newly acquired wounds. The last incoming missile hit him moments after the second, clipping his neck causing him to stumble onto his back where he slid a few more feet before spinning to a stop.

Jensen lazily looked up to the sky, coughing up blood it flew into the air and back onto his mouth creating an illusion as if he had just fed on a wild boar like a savage animal. He turned his head to the side, spitting up red mucus as he began to chuckle crawling onto all fours. He lost his balance as his wounded arm gave out, but he couldn’t feel any sensation from it. Half his body was shooting with pain, the other half he couldn’t feel. It was such a unique feeling to the immortal and he reveled in it happily.

One bloodstained fist gripped his throwing glaives and Jensen’s face contorted into a toothy crimson smile while his eyes hungrily searched for his opponent who was rushing for her lost sword.

“My turn,” He whispered darkly letting the glaive fly outwards, reaching for his belt for another one as he tossed it towards her. He slipped a little on his own feet but he kept himself from falling as he slowly slid on the ice towards her, laughing crazily.

[Khalxaen]

Khalxaen smirked to herself as her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her sword. Skoteinos had always felt like an extended body part for her, and simply getting it back was enough to bring the demon excitement and happiness. Unfortunately for her, she had been much too focused on it that she hadn’t realized that her opponent had thrown something at her. The demon gave a high-pitched scream as a sharp object pierced her thigh, digging deep into skin and muscle. A few seconds after, another one hit her again, a few inches south of the first one.

The demon lost her balance and stumbled forward, her grip on Skoteinos tight, not wanting to lose it again. She gave another excruciated scream as her body hit the ground, causing the glaives to dig even deeper into her thigh. Khalxaen saw the blood splatter to the ground, from her arm and from her thigh—she could no longer feel her hand, and she knew this fight had to progress quicker before she lost control of her body.

Flipping herself over, she sat up and looked down on her thigh. She contemplated on whether it would be a good idea to yank them out. Her pants were torn and drenched with blood, and the glaives were deeply rooted into her skin. The demon blinked—the blood on her thigh was giving her a chilly sensation, and she could see that it was slowly starting to freeze, as if the air around them was getting even colder. Looking at the ground, she saw that the blood had already merged with the ice completely, frozen. Her ears twitched as she heard that insane laughter again—it was getting closer, and she snapped her attention to her opponent and saw that he was sliding towards her in a slow manner.

Her teeth was clattering against each other now, and she realized that she was correct and the weather was getting worse. The air around them was gaining pressure. She had seen this signs before; in fact, she had the ability to duplicate these signs as one of her spells. The whole arena was affected; there was no safe haven to run to. So Khalxaen decided to charge towards her opponent instead, even though she felt her body going even number by the second because of the arctic weather, especially at the points where her injuries stood. The demon pushed her body towards him with the strength she could muster, ready to strike him with her blade. She felt cold snow hit her face as the blizzard started to materialize, and she realized that it made the ground even more ridiculously slippery.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s body was growing intensely numb. He couldn’t feel the edge of his fingertips as he scurried closer and closer to his victim. The blizzards coming frost only added to the mayhem of the slippery field and the chilling wind seemed to skip past his flesh and go right for the bone. His teeth chattered, stuttering his laughter as it came out as a warped twisted version of mirth.

Snow began to fall down in chunky flakes, littering the ground like pockets of leaves. Where it landed upon the immortal it felt like a knife cutting into his skin, the frigid temperatures or hot blood and cold elements meeting for battle upon his flesh. His vision began to grow blurry as he realized he lost a lot more blood than he cared to admit to the little girl. He was bleeding and freezing to death and the two hadn’t even met in combat in earnest.

Yet all that was changing as she stubbornly rose to her feet and mounted a pathetic hobble-walk charge towards him. He lifted down pulling out his punch knife to use in the close quarters where they would meet, thinking of the different areas of her body he would cut to prolong her pain. The knight envisioned her falling to her knees as he grazed her neck, twirling like a dancer as the immortal’s blade pierced her upper shoulder, pushing in deeply and riding her all the way into the wall, holding her face steady as she would scream into one of the larger spikes.

Reality struck in again as Jensen fell to a knee and nearly face planted. He pushed off the ground but it felt awkward as his limbs lost all feeling now. He picked himself up and looked to see the snow was picking up as the blizzard hit them in full force. Soon the entire field would be littered in a frosty blanket.

That suited him find as he licked his lips awaiting her charge.

((Feel free to bunny Jensen))

[Khalxaen]

The demon’s vision was beginning to fade into white now; their surroundings were being enveloped in white snow, and her body was close to numb—for a moment, she mused on how that was a good thing, because her wounds would have hurt like hell if she could feel the pain coursing through her body. All her other senses were becoming useless, too. The demon was frustrated. Because of her demonic heritage, she was accustomed to having a clear view of anything. Seeing nothing but white snow was not something that pleased her. She wasn’t even sure she was still heading towards her opponent at this point.

“Let’s finish this, human!” Khalxaen yelled out in the loudest voice she could muster. Her throat was dry and cold and the blizzard seemed to drown out any sound she made. The demon gritted her teeth and clenched her hold on her sword, and continued to glide forward, even though she knew there was a great chance she could hit the spikes instead—she had no choice, there was nothing else she could do at this point.

She gave a shriek as her body hit something solid. Khalxaen couldn’t feel the pain of the spikes piercing unto her skin, so she assumed it was something else—that, or absolutely all feeling was now gone. She scrambled to find out what she had hit, and she realized it was her opponent. Her sword had not even touched him. It had hit blindly into the air as her body crashed into his instead, sending them both to the ground. The demon could see that he was holding a knife, and she frantically raised her sword, ready to pierce him in the chest. Khalxaen growled as she gathered all her remaining strength and senses to that last strike. Her eyes were pulsing with scarlet, brimming with murderous intent.

((Feel free to bunny Khal, as well.))

[Enigmatic Immortal]

((Well as it’s been sometime my dear into this fight, I will continue this on as if I was level 0, like when we began))

Jensen didn’t expect her to crash into him like she did. The blizzard that came was sudden and the sleet of snow blinded him until the last moment. Her sword missed him by mere inches, but her body collided with his and their blood mixed as one as they collapsed to the ground. His head hit the ice with a thwack, and he woozily looked up to see her eyes filled with such venom that it made him smile. He twirled his blade in hand, but his numb fingers couldn’t keep hold of it as it dropped on the ground audibly. The way it bounced in the air before his eyes was like slow motion, the sound similar to the final nail in a coffin being placed.

With no more answers to give to stop her, and no strength to delay her hand, the Immortal concluded with a cry of laughter the conclusion.

Her sword came down and into his chest with finality as blood spread outwards over his body and onto her face. The heat was welcome, had he been able to feel it, but the cold was now at the point he had lost most function to feeling. His laughter died down, the echoes no longer giving him comfort. He breathed shallowly as he gazed into her scarlet eyes, feeling the malice of the action in her heart. He lifted one hand up, weakly, and gripped her sword arm. He could feel the cold despite his numb fingers, and she was shivering.

He coughed up blood and a bit of it splashed onto her face. His eyes began to grow fuzzy, a white light growing like the spread of ice around his peripherals. His adrenaline began to slow down, and the blood that had once sang to him had now thinned out. He knew the feeling well, for he had experienced it several times in his life. He was dying.

“You win,” Jensen mused, letting his eyes shut, his words coming out a hallowed echo breath of the grave. Softly his hand released her arm, and it fell next to the knife. He willed himself, dared himself even, to pick it up and stab her. His fingers flexed towards it, but as he tried the blizzard snow buried the weapon, and it was lost to him. Weakly he closed his eyes and let death take him.

I hate the cold, Jensen thought miserably.

[Khalxaen]

The demon’s breathing was slow and practically non-existent at this point, and she could feel her mind being drained into total nothingness, just like the white sheet of snow that spread over the arena. She lost her grip on her sword and fell forward. Khalxaen tried to gasp for air, but her lungs wouldn’t work for her, and her numb body fell uselessly beside her opponent. At the corner of her eye, she could see her sword pierced into him. He was no longer moving. Khalxaen tried to reach out and take her blade back but her body could no longer move. The last thing she thought of before blacking out was that she wanted her weapon in her hand, because she couldn’t bear to lose it again.


----------

When Khalxaen regained consciousness, she found that she was laid down on a bed that was as hard as stone. She blinked and focused her eyes on the ceiling before sitting up straight and taking a look at her surroundings. An old monk nearby gave her a nod and pointed to the table beside her, which had her belongings. With a sigh of relief, she realized her sword was among them. The room had several other people, also in beds similar to hers, and monks were going around and chanting life back into their bodies. The demon looked around quickly, wondering if the person she had just went against was there—she couldn’t see him. Maybe he was in another room, or maybe he had already left.

Without thinking twice, Khalxaen got back on her feet and gathered her belongings. She mused at how she couldn’t feel any pain in her body, wherein she was pretty sure it had already deteriorated to the worst state back in the fight. She knew the monks had the power to do this, and she wondered at the same time how long she had been out. Minutes? Hours? The only evidence that she just been from a battle was the litter of dried blood on her torn clothes.

She had come here with the determination to steal a weapon from whoever was going to be her opponent, but she had lost consciousness before that had happened. With a sigh, she realized she had failed—again.

“I’m all good again... maybe I should get into another fight? Hmm...”

’Do not be ridiculous, Khalxaen.’

Khalxaen gave an exasperated groan and shrugged, and made towards the exit.

“Fine. There’s always next time. Hey, technically, I won, right? He fainted before me.”

’Please suit yourself,’ and Skoteinos didn't even bother to tell her that her opponent had died at that moment, because it would have made the demon's ego bigger to know that he didn't simply just lose consciousness.

Spoils - just gold and EXP, I suppose.

[Revenant]

Condensed Rubric requested with little commentary for Enigmatic Immortal. EI’s scores are in red, Khalxaen’s are in blue.

Story: (13/12) - From what you’re written, I understand that Khalxaen is a demon who wants to steal a weapon to compliment her current one. Other than that, however, I have no idea who your character is or where she comes from. It’s cold and slippery, but what else is going on in the arena? There was a nice, quick pace to this battle and you maintained it throughout.

Character: (12/11) - Conversation in this thread was little more than one-liner taunts, which is in keeping with a quick paced battle, but doesn’t give the reader much. Add some internal dialogue to flesh this out a bit more. Both of you wrote your character’s movements on the ice very awkwardly. I was never quite sure if you were moving around like you were on ice-skates or if you had fallen and were sliding around on your knees. Combat between the two of you was good. Khalxaen, I get little feel for your character in this thread. I don’t know what she’s thinking or how she processes what’s going on around her.

Writing Style: (10/10) - Both of your writing was straightforward and bland. While it was decently entertaining, it wasn’t very detailed. There were numerous spelling errors from both of you, but Khalxaen had the more blatant ones. And again, the descriptions of your movement over the ice really knocked into this score.

Wildcard: (5/5)

Total: (40/38)

Enigmatic Immortal wins and receives 1050 exp and 75 gp.
Khalxaen receives 675 exp and 75 gp.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.