Steel For Dinner

[Balgar Grimeye]

[Open to anyone]

Balgar munched. Rather convenient, he thought. The monks had allowed him to choose his own arena - so why not choose a hall with a dining table set for 20 bustling with food and wine, while he waited? He grinned to himself and at the 4 empty plates beside him.

"Can't fight on an empty stomach!" he said aloud, interrupting himself with a slurp of the large cup of wine and a murky burp.
"Or dry throat, for that matter," Balgar grunted. He had his large axe on his right side, the shield on his left against the chair.

The hall was grand, its 3 longtables at least 25 feet in length. In the west side of the room large windows filled the space, reaching to the ceiling and with magnificient drapes hanging. In the east wall, a grand chimney was placed - crackling with fire infront of a large bearpelt. A plenty-full of adorned chairs were placed alongside the tables. Double doors were at each end of the room. Balgar thought that if his opponent were to come from anywhere, it would be from either of those two doors.

He leaned back in his seat after finishing the meal, clapping his belly in a sated manner. He had positioned himself in the middle, close to the fire of the chimney. Then he took his axe and produced a whetstone, sharpening the steel of the axe-head. He did not hope for a magician, as they often were the best people to ruin his day. And his health, for that matter.

[Lord Anglekos]

I'll take this, thank you very much. This takes place after "An Offer You Can't Refuse".

Here he was, Anglekos thought to himself, as he stepped through the dark portal the Ai'Bron monks had created for him. Just another day amongst the multitudes that filled the Althanian years, as the Ixian Knight found himself at the Citadel once again. He'd gone at the behest of his companions, who thought he should sharpen his skills in preparation for their next mission. After all, they had reasoned with him, there was no real harm or risk in it; why didn't he like to go there?

No harm. Eric Anglekos snorted quietly to himself as he walked along the black path that would take him to his arena. No harm, other than the psychological damages and the scars of emotions. No harm, other than having to impale a complete stranger unto your own blade, to watch the life fade from their body, to feel their blood spurt upon your face before they fell to the ground. Yeah, he thought to himself bitterly as suddenly two huge, oaken doors appeared as if from nowhere before him, and he reached forward with naked fingertips to caress the wood. No harm indeed. Still, he could not disagree with his comrades, for his sword arm had grown weary from lack of use of late, and that lazy weariness could get the best of him; and so, he had come. Reluctantly, but he had come.

Slowly, he pushed open the door with surprising ease, even though the hinges creaked with what could only be imagined as rust. His silence-imbued greaves stepped onto the hard floor before him, as the door opened to a grand hall, fit for a barbarian court. Three huge, long tables set for twenty occupants each lay before him, utterly empty despite the mountains of food piled upon the plates and the exquisite wines filling the glasses. To his right, a bearskin rug lay before a crackling flame, smoke rising into the chimney and out into whatever nothingness the lay beyond.

And sitting in a chair, feet propped arrogantly upon the table, was a dwarf. Or at least, what Eric could only assume was a dwarf; he fit the classic archetype that stories had set of the creatures, with beard, axe, and plump belly undoubtedly filled with alcohol. As it was, the stranger before him was sharpening that axe with a whetstone, which told the swordsman two things about the dwarf, who could only be his opponent; that he was both experienced with that weapon, to give cause for the axe to be sharpened, and that he took care of his items with prejudice. That was something that Eric had to make note of.

The door shut behind the swordsman with a heavy thud that resounded throughout the grand, but empty, hall, and his cloak flew out behind him with the wave of air the impact had caused, revealing the twin hilts of the swords at his side. One was his father's blade, now christened Amalia for the blonde hairs tied around the hilt, in memory of his fiancé; the other, was sheathed in oak, with a masterfully crafted hilt, was the elven blade Pardolaes.

Without a word, the swordsman reached down and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the second long sword, making sure the mythril weapon was clear within it's scabbard, even as he reached behind him and took his shield, white mythril with a black cross engraved on the front, and slid it upon his left arm in preparation. In one swift motion, he unlatched his bow and quiver from his back as well, setting them aside by the door; the projectiles were used in times of stealth, and this was not one of those times.

Walking forward, he drew forth his blade, letting the blade's razor-sharp edge ring as it was unsheathed, surpressing the silencing enchantment around his armor to do so. He would let his metal speak for him, as glacial blue eyes fixed upon the dwarf. Eric didn't want to know the dwarf's name, or identity; he didn't want to know what the man was like, what he did for a living, what his plans were. He would rather just let the stranger remain a stranger; it would be much easier to slay him that way.

[Balgar Grimeye]

Balgar heard the doors open, and glanced down the hall. He followed the armorclad and tall figure approaching with his dead eye, before wiping his nose with his arm. He rose up from the chair and grapped his steelshield in regard, strapping it on. It had the sign of a black anvil engulfed in flames emblazoned on. He took his axe as well, resting its shaft on his shoulder at first as he regarded his foe.

"About time," He shouted down the hall, as the figure approached.
"Was starting to wait for a dessert!" he cackled, raising his shield and lowering the axe off his shoulder, ready for swing. At least it would be a prober fight of steel against steel, which he felt most comfortable with. Could not be ignored that his opponent had equipment of fine quality, though.

Balgar sized him up. It was no aristocrat thinking himself high and mighty, although the masterwork gear could suggest that. No, this one had the looks of an experianced fighter. Seemed to become a worthy battle, Balgar thought with anticipation. It was time to test his mettle.

The dwarf approached him, coming inside range of the human. He judged this opponent to be one capable of many techniques, so he would not give his enemy too much time to think of a stragegy. As he came within 5 feet of the knight he took a longer step forward, swinging the long-shafted axe in a horizontal line towards the chest of his foe with a roar. He was hoping to put the human off with such an unformal and quick start of the fight.

[Lord Anglekos]

As the shorter figure came closer, so did the smell, and Eric silently wrinkled his nose as he tried not to let his disgust show. It was hard, he would admit, to not step away from the disgusting stench the dwarf was emanating, and it became even harder as the hairy midget opened his mouth and cackled out words that hardly befit one of the being's supposed merit. However, the swordsman swallowed and did not retreat from his opponent's foul smelling advance, even as the dwarf hefted a steel shield in one hand and his axe in the other. Eric simply reduced his mouth to a thin line, trying not to breathe in as much of the smell as possible.

In return, Eric only nodded at his opponent's crude approach and lifted his own mythril armor and weapon in return. Slowly, he edged forward with his right foot, in a dominant stance; he would not take the defensive. Eric wanted this battle over as soon as possible, and he would not let his opponent's shorter stature be an advantage against his own taller one. There was no sounds between them now, save the crackling of the flames to the right of the warriors and the dwarf's advancing footsteps.

The room was pretty well illuminated, between the torches on the walls and the fireplace, so he saw the twitch in the dwarf's right arm far before the flesh even began to move. Eric lived on the fact that he was used to being attacked and his life threatened, and his observation of other warriors had saved that life more than once. The axe swung toward his chest, and simultaneously he made his move, stepping forward into the dwarf's personal space. His left arm slammed his shield to the side, to knock away the impending blow from the axe, and he felt it slam against the metal even as his left foot made contact with the hard floor beneath him. He let out a breath in that brief second of time, absorbing the impact of the metal weapon, before he plunged his mythril blade forth at his opponent's right arm and shoulder area, seeking to disable the warrior rather than kill him.

[Balgar Grimeye]

As Eric blocked his attack and plunged after his right sword-arm, Balgar managed to withdraw the attacking arm again before sliced. They stood rather close now, so Balgar did not have proper space to make another swing with his long-shafted weapon at this distance. Instead, he took a left-angled step in motion with pulling back his axe-wielding hand - and tried to give Eric a bash of his shield.

It would not be a very harmful attack, it was likely to connect with his opponent's own shield. At best it could stumble him, but the main purpose was to push his opponent to give Balgar a bit more of a distance for another swing.

If the bash would be successfull, Balgar would follow it up with a vertical blow of his axe aiming for the head/chest area. If not, he would take a longer step back, in a brief retreat to gain distance otherwise and ready his shield defensively.

[Lord Anglekos]

The swordsman hadn't really expected his blow to connect, but that didn't stop a twinge of disappointment from flooding his mind. He'd wanted this over quickly; each moment spent in the Citadel was another to remind him how far he had come since his days in his original homeland, Saleria. All this bloodshed, this miniature wars the monks were so bent on creating; Eric could see how it could benefit one who needed to awaken their sword-arms, like himself, but that didn't truly mean he enjoyed it. He needed the practice, and he supposed it was a good thing that his dwarven opponent had not fallen with one blow, for his blade needed far more practice than those couple of fell seconds. But all that did for the warrior was make him colder, more determined, as the darkened room came into sharper clarity.

His knock-back of the axe had been successful, he saw at least, and that gave the warrior an opening. It wasn't large enough for him to step forward and cut the foul midget in half, as he would have normally done, for his piercing attack had lunged forth and had not connected. If Eric pulled his blade back, he knew that would leave himself open to the other's axe. So instead, he continued forward with his lunge, even as the dwarf punched his own shield forward at Anglekos. The warrior held his ground and used his superior weight against the other's, slamming his own shield forward to meet the steel one. A split second before contact, the black cross upon his metal burst forth into light, flooding the mildly dark room with the shield's light, illuminating both the tables behind the dwarf and the short warrior himself.

It was this burst of light that Eric had activated that allowed him to see a trait of the dwarf he had not seen before. Beyond the horrible stench, beyond the aggressive fighting, the short one had a bad eye; his right one, in fact. A thick scar ran down across the eye, rendering it pupil-less and milky white. An advantage, perhaps? Eric thought so, and as the shields made contact he stepped off to the side; the dwarf's left, Eric's right. He hoped that his momentary burst of light from his shield would blind the opponent long enough for him to step behind the dwarf, closer to the tables.

[Balgar Grimeye]

As the shieldbash had not have much effect, Balgar stepped backwards. But as he was about to do so, a bright light sparked over the meeting of the two shields. It was brighter and more fierce than the usual sparks when steel meeted steel, and Balgar growled as it blinded him momentarily.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted.

Cursing and swearing, he still took the step backwards and readied himself - pulling the shield close and bending in his knees to let it cover him as much as possible. But for the next few seconds, his vision would be weakened, and he knew very well a flaw like that could cost one's life in an unfortunate fight.
Balgar shook his head wildly, eager to get rid of the dimness of his sight.

[Lord Anglekos]

Eric breathed as he turned, letting his feet slide soundlessly over the hard, granite ground beneath him; thanks to the enchantments upon his armor upon his arms and feet. Two swift, turning steps, and he was at the dwarf's exposed back, even as that foul mouth exploded once more into words that smelled worse than their content. The stench was almost stifling to the experienced swordsman, but he had opened up another window of opportunity and he would not miss it, not for the world. Holding his breath in an attempt to drive away the thick smell, trying not to physically gag, he shifted his right foot backwards once more as he brought the shining tip of the elven blade in his hands up in readiness to pierce his opponent once again.

It was this that was his mistake. He had not taken into account the tables at his back when he had turned, so intent he had been on letting himself be unnoticed by the dwarf, and even as he made his backwards pivot to draw upon the strength necessary to pierce this foe he felt his momentum crash into the oaken dining furniture behind him. Eric gasped aloud, and he felt himself roll over the corner of the table, sending several plates of food and glasses of wine sprawling in his advance. For while his own movements and touches were soundless, he could not nullify the sound of the plates crashing to the ground, glasses of expensive wine exploding as they hit the hard floor, and the heavy creak of the table as it absorbed the impact of his body with it's steadfast inanimate form.

As he finally hit the floor, knee driving into the ground beneath him, the swordsman simultaneously let out a yelp of pain and cursed aloud. "Son of a Thayne!" His voice came out guttural and irritable, and rightly so; his entire plan had been ruined, for the fact that he hadn't been aware of his surroundings. Ignoring the pain in his knee for now, as it was mild and momentary, he forfeited stealth for the time being, sure that the foul-smelling dwarf would turn at the orchestra of destruction Eric had caused behind him. He slammed his foot onto the bench of one of the tables and leaped deftly upon it, kicking away several more plates of delicious food and drink that, on any other occasion, he would have probably stopped to sample. But this was battle, and it had drawn on far longer now than he wanted it to.

At least now he was on the higher ground, and he held his shield before him defensively, despite his vow to himself not to take the defensive in his battle. Briefly, his clear, azure eyes flicked about the room, keeping track now of his position. To his left now was that immense fireplace; perhaps, he could draw the dwarf there? Eric certainly had the advantage in military expertise and weaponry; now to see if he could use the battlefield around him.

[Balgar Grimeye]

As Balgar regained his sight, he spun around to hear the sound of crashing plates and glasses, staring wildly towards Eric. As the human jumped onto the table, with obvious agility even in armor, Balgar took a tight grip on the shaft of his axe.

He figured his opponent had used magic of a sort, and the dwarf saw this equalling to dirty tricks. His anger was fueled by worry of his opponent's magical capabilities, causing him to shout out loud again as he swung the axe in a low attack towards the legs of his enemy. He attacked from the left to the right, driving his arm and the axe in over his own head, so his foe would likely have to parry with his sword.
Hoping he could break through the parry of a sword with the power of his attack, he knew it would at least make it more difficult for his enemy to counterattack as well.

[Lord Anglekos]

With a loud roar, the dwarf's short, stubby legs carried him forward, and the mighty midget swung, seeking to decapitate Eric's legs from his body. The swordsman could see the snarl of rage that had contorted the dirty, bearded visage of his opponent, and he briefly thought to himself just what he had done to earn such ire. There was no time for contemplation, however, and on instinct he jumped back instead of seeking to parry the blow. With his expertise, he could have severed the dwarf's axe at the hilt, but it would have taken a precise blow that the swordsman did not have the time now to line up.

Silently, he landed on the hard granite floor behind him once more, crouching to absorb the impact from his jump even as he stepped back twice with his momentum. Eric brought his shield up with a quiet breath, eyes piercingly blue beyond the veil of dark hair that flowed over his visage and down around his neck. He loosened his grip on Pardolaes, letting the elven blade twirl dramatically between his fingers before they wrapped around the hilt once again, the firelight flickering off the silver blade as he stared at his opponent. The table, now cluttered with fallen dishes and food, served as a barrier between the two warriors, and Eric had garnered enough distance now so that the smell of the burning flame invaded his nostrils instead of that reek the dwarf emitted.

He needed a plan. Eric had underestimated the dwarf, much to his chagrin; or at least, he'd underestimated the arena his opponent had picked. And it irked him that he'd fallen so low as to stumble over that one little fact so easily; had this been a war, like the one with Xem'Zund's army, he would surely be dead by now, food for the carrion birds no doubt. Slowly, the tip of his mythril blade arose, and he quietly called his magic, making sure the power was still there; and he had naught to fear, for at his silent beckoning it purred in expectation, rubbing up against his bones like some liquid feline. He thought not about his fear of himself, and was simply relieved to find that power so willing to act; he would need it, and himself, to stay on their toes.

Eric's clear, azure eyes began to glow slightly in the dim light, unbeknown to himself, and as he stared at the dwarf intently the tips of his hair began to slowly rise behind him, the air quietly vibrating. He took the few seconds that his evasion had spared him to think of the dwarf's sudden rage; it had been inflicted when he used the light of his shield. Perhaps, his opponent was one of those types to forsake magecraft, and despised it; one could only hope so, as he beckoned forth, pointing the tip of his blade at the dwarf. "Slow." Eric spoke quietly, purposefully inflicting a mocking tone into his voice. "I think you have had one too many ales, mine dwarven foe, for you are slow and unwieldy. I sought an equal to my might, but it seems that I must search elsewhere's for my goal." He added in a snort of disdain, silently hoping his acting would provoke the dwarf further into rage, even as he turned on his heel and headed back towards the door from whence he came, albeit slowly.

[Balgar Grimeye]

"Wh-- -slow-? Oi! Come back here, ye flamin' coward!" Balgar set his jaw with irritation. That cheeky human dared to dance around him in his shiny armor, and mock him at a distance. It was more than Balgar could take.
He took his shield off and slung it over to cover his back. With the shield out of the way, he would be better able to climb the tables - and fight offensively. He took hold of the table with his free hand and climbed over it, landing on the same side as Eric. The human had turned towards the exit and was heading there slowly, yet Balgar did not see the feign.

"Face me, cursed loose-wrist! I spit on yer fancy illusions and lights!" He glanced to the side, and picked up a bottle to be thrown after Eric. It went through the air and landed to the right of his foe, splintering into several pieces and staining the table. After that, Balgar grapped his axe with two hands and started to head down towards Eric with grim determination.

[Lord Anglekos]

The swordsman didn't pay attention to the words uttered from the other's bearded mouth, only to the tone by which they were spoken. Now a fair distance away from his short opponent, Eric paused in his slow movement, even as a bottle flew through the air to his right only to smash against the wood of the table, spilling it's expensive contents onto the furniture and floor. For the first time in months, a quiet smirk crossed over the flesh of his visage, unknown to the dwarf as Eric's back was turned to him, and a flush of confidence was born forth from his success in taunting the little warrior. Silently, Eric let out a small breath, wiping away the smirk and replacing it with that mask of disdain that had so infected the dwarf with rage.

Turning slightly to face the reeking creature, his eyes narrowed, glowing slightly in the dark of the grand hall. The torches and the flames of the fireplace flickered across his skin, shadows dancing along the gray, passionless floor at his feet, even as he shifted slightly, the point of his elven blade lowered to the ground, careless despite the obvious threat of the sharp axe in both of the dwarf's hands. He saw that his opponent, in exchange for a stronger swing, had discarded his shield; perfect. Now, he thought to himself, only to further induce this warrior into rage; to drown the other in his own emotions, blinded and unable think clearly. This would be the deciding factor.

Eric's visage reeked contempt, despite it's false origins, and the words that slipped through the dry, cracked flesh of his lips next only gave strength to that illusion. "Cowardice? It is no fault of mine that you wallow in inadequacy, dwarf." He spat this last word in a racial condescension, using whatever weapons of the tongue he could find now. Casually he spun the sharp sword in his right hand between his fingers, giving off the air of confidence that, upon a closer examination, belied the tension in his muscles. Gripping the hilt tighter, he pointed the silver blade at his short-statured pursuer. "Perhaps I should seek a warrior that can actually reach my head with his blade, for this duel is pitiful. There is no valor, no experience to be gained, in a worthless foe."

Standing with his side to the enemy, he tightened his grip on his shield, ready to draw upon the power of his magic in an instant. He let out another breath, forcing himself not to release the tension in his body; every muscle was taut, ready, to loose forth the power he held like an arrow from a bowstring. Come now... He thought silently as he stared intently at the shorter warrior. Give into your rage, and end this already.

[Balgar Grimeye]

Balgar readied the axe, turning his sharp edge behind himself to hide its length and full reach from his opponent's sight. Then he charged, running towards Eric as fast as his short legs could take him. The dwarf reminded much like a steam train coming in highspeed - his nostrils wide and eye open with madness.

It seemed the lure was working perfectly well. If uninterrupted in his charge, Balgar would have swinged his axe a few feet off Eric - driving it in an up-right diagonal line aimed for his side and armsocket, where armor usually protected less.

[Lord Anglekos]

As the axe-wielding warrior charged him, Eric stood his ground, bringing the tip of his blade to bear even as the dwarf drew back for a swing. The dwarf's grip was awkward, somehow; as if the short creature were trying to hide the edge of the axe's blade from him. It mattered not either way, for the warrior had seen enough of the weapon to know it's reach and capabilities; and truthfully, compared to himself, neither was extraordinary in any way. Still, he ground his right foot onto the floor, prepared to move in an instant. His breath slowed, as he mentally counted the seconds between the charging dwarf and the inevitable contact.

Three; his opponent began to swing, drawing forth the bladed weapon from behind him downwards. Eric tensed; an upwards swing. Two; the swordsman took a breath as he leaned backwards and cocked his sword arm back, his power clawing to the surface, wanting out of it's fleshy cage. One; the axe passed before him in, like he thought, an upwards swing, aimed at the sword-arm he previously had held out before him in invitation, and harmlessly grazed upon nothing, the force of the swing carrying the dwarf's momentum forward and upwards.

It was then, as the dwarf reached the peaked of his swing, that Eric chose to strike. He was an arrow released from it's bow, and in one swift, silent motion, he stepped out with his left foot to the side of his opponent and released all of his power, all of his magic, all at once. Light flooded the darkened hall as it burst forth from his skin, the lightning crackling, howling in triumph at it's release, as the air about him parted in a rush, carrying particles of dust and dirt. His outstretched mythril blade simultaneously erupted into that same azure, frightening lightning, his magecraft twining snakelike along it's razor-sharp edge, causing it to blaze like a torch in the dark.

In that one second of time that he had to strike, he did not waste it. His step forward with his left foot had been to solidify his swing, to give it more weight; not that it would have truly mattered, for the power that now pounded through his veins and blade. The edge of the sword came howling as he swung horizontally, and it seemed like a stroke of lightning illuminated the air behind it. The air before it exploded with the sheer speed and power behind the swing; approximately six times the strength and speed of a normal man's. This was a power he could not achieve with his sword alone at this point, but combined with enhancing his body's capability to double it's maximum speed, strength, and endurance, he could.

The sword was of masterwork quality; the highest craft of the Elves. Even normally, without the assistance of his lightning magecraft, it could cut through the haft of his opponent's axe like butter and continue on it's journey towards the exposed jugular of the dwarf. However, at the speed and strength it was coming at now, it would not simply cut through the haft of the axe; it would obliterate it. From there, in that blazing instant, it would sear like flame through the exposed flesh of his opponent, and end this. It was not a hope, or a guess, but a fact to the swordsman, and the raging confidence in his eyes supported that fact.

One way or another, this battle was ended.

[Balgar Grimeye]

Balgar yelled incomprehensibly as the sword of electricity struck, cutting his axe in half. It hit his left, most forthward arm as well, giving a good slash and wound that would drive it out of business. As the axe got torn, he raised the other arm to block out some of the massive light from his eye.

He fell right-angled backwards, his back hitting the table and his right hand gripping tightly around the wound of his left to keep in as much blood as possible. Lying up against the table he grunted in pain, blind as a bat again.

He swore and muttered. That bastard had made use of his magic again, as he had feared, and exploited his weakness. It was certaintly no chilvaric foe behind that fancy armor. He spat, forcing an edgy grin.

"Cheap tricks," he stated, "Swordsmen like ye don't need magic. I thought it be reserved fer squirmy dress-wearers," he cackled, quickly ending into a painful grimace as his right hand turned red.

[Lord Anglekos]

Luck. That's all it was, the swordsman thought to himself as he flicked his gleaming, lightning-coated blade out to the side, sending splatters of blood flinging into the flames and causing it to flicker hungrily. Shadows danced in a masquerade on the dull, granite floor beneath their feet, given birth by the light in the fireplace and the emanating aura still crackling ominously about both metal and flesh along Eric's figure. The clear, glowing eyes narrowed as they watched the dwarven opponent stumble and fall into the table behind him, sending several more glasses toppling with the impact as it shook. Luck was all that had saved the dwarf from being beheaded, and the swordsman felt a pang of disappointment in the depths of his mind. Was his blade not fast enough? Had he given away something in his body movement that allowed his short enemy to divert his sword so? In either case, in his original intent, he had failed, and failure in war most often meant death.

Watching as the dwarf clutched at his left arm, seeking to cover the thick gash that now rendered that arm useless, Eric slowly sheathed his mythril blade, dousing the blazing power around both sword and body at the same time until the room was once again illuminated only by the blaze within the fireplace and the small torches along the walls of the hall. Dark blood, looking almost black in the low-lit room, welled from between the dwarf's dirty fingers and down his arm onto the ground beneath. At least, the swordsman thought to himself, there would be no life taken needlessly this day; he had succeeded in both disarming his opponent and making his weapon-arm useless, for the time being. It was clear to him now that the battle was indeed over, for the dwarf was both losing blood at an alarming rate and, even if his stout opponent wanted to continue, the little warrior was clearly unable to.

Words, taunting and rasping, echoed from the other's bearded mouth, mocking Eric for his use of magecraft as a swordsman. In return, Eric did not smile, or give a witty retort to further belittle his opponent's lack of prowess; instead, he turned on his heel, letting his words flow from between his dry lips once his visage was out of the other's sight. "War is about surviving. There is no honor in death, little warrior." His words were tired; the desire to battle, whether in words or blades, was long gone. In silence his footsteps carried him back to the doors from whence he first came, pausing only to give the dwarf a parting glance. "And may you live long."

With that, he picked up the bow and arrows he'd lain previously upon the ground and, upon opening the door, the human was gone, sucked away into the dark oblivion that lay before him.


~+~


"So how'd it go?" Lorelai Pernissus, a fellow member of the Ixian Knight's Monster Hunting squad, asked as soon as Eric walked out the obsidian doors and back into the breathtaking daylight. He sighed quietly as he stared at the bright, blue sky above him, cloudless and clear, before turning his gaze over to his companion. She grinned cockily at him, sporting short, red hair and a large shield upon her back. Utterly armored from her shoulders to her feet, the Coronian woman had long since taken a liking to the somber swordsman, and Eric himself felt that despite her carefree attitude and sense of humor, she too harbored dark secrets like himself.

Then again, who doesn't? He thought somewhat bitterly to himself, even as the pair made their way down the long flight of stone steps that would carry them to the Radasanthian streets. Her armor clanking noisily in the air, he shrugged slightly, his gaze averted back ahead of him. "Nothing extraordinary." He replied to her question.

"Well now, ain't that a shame." Lorelai chuckled lightly, placing both of her gauntlet-covered hands behind her head. Eric glanced back at her again, and noted she wore a peculiar smile.

"What's got you all bright and chipper?" He asked with a light laugh of his own.

"Mmm, just feelin' great today, I guess. Totally whupped this guy's ass while you were gone, but he gave me a good fight." She laughed, and pointed casually to the sky. "Just days like these that make me feel like I could take on the Thaynes themselves, y'know?"

He smiled back, but said nothing. Even to him, it felt false, as he turned away, his fingers brushing the strands of hair tied around his steel sword; the strands that had once belonged to the love of his life. I wish I did know, Lorelai. He wanted to say, but the words wouldn't, no, couldn't come out from his lips. To do so would invite a relationship closer than companions, and that was something he could not afford again.

No, his only friend now was war, and it smiled grimly upon him beyond the azure mask it wore up in the deep, great sky. It was all he knew, and would be forevermore, as long as he was tied to the past. Swallowing back a sigh, as their footsteps finally brought them to the streets below, he finally spoke, forcing an optimistic note into his voice. "Well, let's get back to headquarters and rest up. Tomorrow we've got a long journey ahead of us."

"Right you are, m'friend, right you are." Seemingly oblivious to Eric's melancholy, she skipped off ahead in her suit of armor, clanking noisily down the street. He shook his head and also started after her, but not before giving the black monument to battle at his back, the Citadel, a parting glance. You'll be seeing more of me, I'm sure. He thought to it quietly, before turning and following slowly after Lorelai.

No spoils requested. Balgar, I went ahead and submitted it, so go ahead and make a conclusion post.

[Balgar Grimeye]

Balgar scowled, both in agony and irritation. He took the drape that covered the table and tore it off in a long piece - wrapping it around his injured arm in a makeshift bandage. Continueing to lay some pressure on it, he lay back with his head, closing his eyes as he took a few minutes of respite.

He had lost, he knew. He was not used to this kind of enemy, wielding both sword and magic with equal skill. Spellcasters could be broken and warriors tired out; how did you beat one with a foot in each camp? Balgar thought he would have to figure this out, eventually. He felt light relief this fight only took penalty on his arm, and his opponent had shown mercy - though he would not admit this to himself.

"I'll just have to beat tha bastard another time," he mumbled to himself, as he arose slowly. He went over to the axe, picking up its sorry remains of a shaft with a grimace. He threw the worthless stick away, allowing infuriation to settle in as he kicked the table, letting it take punishment for his anger.

He started to head towards the door, shield on his back and a bloodied cloth around his arm. That was when he came to think of the possibility of another opponent entering suddenly.

I'll bite his balls off, Balgar thought with a mean grin. He neared the door and opened it with his shoulder, keeping his functioning arm gripped around the other. He cursed innately as the bright light of the sun struck his eyes, blinded for the third time. Today was not this dwarf's day.

[Zerith]

Steel for Dinner.

I know both of you have been waiting for this, and I want to thank you for your patience. I’d also like to thank you for submitting this, as I haven’t had the chance to judge many battles on the site. So I hope you don’t mind me doing this, but I’m going to get straight to the rubric.

As always, if either one of you have any questions regarding any of this. Feel free to send me a PM anytime.

Balgar will be red, Anglekos will be blue.

STORY:

Continuity – 2/5 – Balgar, I feel bad for giving you such a low score here. The thing is you didn’t give any backstory as to why your character was at the Citadel. You literally just started with him sitting there, waiting to fight. Next time I strongly suggest you take some time to ask yourself why Balgar would want to go and enter a fight. Maybe he’s in it for money? Maybe he was dared to by a friend? Mentioning these things in your first post helps tell the story, and helps you achieve higher numbers in this category.

Anglekos, you did much better here as you mentioned why Eric decided to go to the Citadel. You even took the time to add the small scene at the end, which make it feel more complete. Other than that, you did fairly average in this category. With the occasional reference to Eric’s past lover and the Ixian Knights, you gave me enough information that I didn’t feel the need to look up your profile in order to make sense of everything.

Setting – 3/6 – Balgar, you started the thread with a decent description of the arena, and have me a basic idea of what the environment could look like. Other than that though, you didn’t really incorporate it into the story much till later on in the thread. I really enjoyed seeing you start using the setting when Balgar threw the bottle, or when he used the drape as a makeshift bandage. Doing things like that makes your character not just stand around in the setting, but interact with it. I also suggest you try to expand the setting into not just what things look like, but also how it affects the other senses. What’s the texture of things, how do the smell? Try asking yourself these questions as you write.

Anglekos, nothing much to be said here. You took what you were given and elaborated on it. Your descriptions of the smell of the fireplace, or even the smell of Balgar’s breath were interesting. Keep this up.

Pacing – 3/5 – Let’s face it, both characters went to the Citadel to look for the fight for their own reasons. Both of you kept the fight going at a reasonable pace. I’m giving the advantage here to Anglekos, as it was clear that he knew exactly what he planned to do for Eric. I got the feeling that Balgar just didn’t really have any idea what he wanted to do with the story. Balgar, I suggest you try asking yourself what you want to do the next time your write a story. Do you want to write an action filled one? A mystery? An emotional story that develops the character? It’s always good to have a plan on what you want to do beforehand.


Total Story Score – 8/16


CHARACTER:

Dialogue – 5/6 – This one was close, as you both had your characters speak in ways that I thought suited them. That was until I read the “I’ll bite his balls off” line. I’m sorry Balfar, but I really just can’t see a pissed off warrior dwarf say something like that. I even did a double take to make sure I read the line properly. Just remember who your character is and how they behave, and then it should be easier to come up with dialogue. Try asking yourself, “now what would they say?” instead of thinking of what you would say.


Action – 4/6 – The actions of both characters were rather well, though I will admit I though Balgar should have just tried to stand in Eric’s way then the swordsman tried to leave instead of throwing a mere bottle. Balgar, this category is all about making what your character does seem believable. Trying to remember that is the best suggestion I can think of at the moment.


Persona – 2/5 - This all about the emotions, and I really didn’t see much from Balgar. I get the feeling you were just so focused on explaining how Balgar would counter and attack that you neglected exploring how things made him feel. Yes, he did get angry at some points, but was he ever confident he would win or scared of dying? The reader can’t just assume to know how your character feels, I’d like to challenge you to try and explain it a little next time.

Anglekos, you did better here. Not only did you express Eric’s frustration, confidence and disappointment, but you made it understandable. You didn’t really push the envelope here, and I feel like you could have done better.


Total Character Score: 11/17


WRITING STYLE:

Mechanics – 2/5 – This category really hurt you, Balgar. You had plenty of spelling mistakes and had words that didn’t really make sense (things such as ‘plenty-full’ and ‘steel meeted steel’ are one that come to mind). If you weren’t writing your posts in a Word Document, I suggest trying that next time. It really helps catch some of these errors. Then when you’re done, all you have to do is copy and paste it. Also, instead of just saying ‘3 tables’ or ’25 feet in length’ I encourage you to type the numbers out. So it would be ‘three tables’ and twenty-five feet in length’.

Anglekos, only a few things stand out here. In your first post you had plenty of run on sentences. Now I know your style of writing is quite different than Balgar’s or even mine, but I will be honest and say that I had a real hard time reading and understand your first post. Other than that, you had the occasional spelling errors, tiny things like having ‘this’ instead of ‘these’ and such. We all miss them from time to time, so don’t feel bad. If necessary, get a friend to proofread for you. If you can’t think of anything, ask me and I’ll be more than happy to help. I chose not to deducted for the run-ons for the sake of the style of writing, but I do believe some of the thoughts of Eric in the first post should have been Italicized. It was really hard to understand what he was thinking.


Technique – 2/7 – You didn’t really do anything here, Balgar. But I did certainly notice the comparison to Balgar and a steam train. I’d like to see you do things like that more often, describe Balgar’s face roaring like the face of bear, or his skin tough as leather. I would also like to suggest you try foreshadowing. Instead of explaining what Balgar had planned to do if something didn’t work the way he hoped, just say he had a trick or two up his sleeve. Little things like that make the story more interesting, it makes the reader wonder what could possible happen next.

Anglekos, I think this was by far your strongest area. The way you write is different, and way you described the “frightening lightning” and how it twined “snakelike” was interesting. I believe you’ve gotten a hang of how you write; now I want to see you try to push it to a new level.


Clarity – 4/5 – Balgar, you were very clear with your writing and aside from the Mechanics issues, it was easy to understand. In order to score higher, I want you to remember making your writing clear and understandable doesn’t mean it needs to be short and brief. So don’t be worried about adding emotion, details of setting or what your character thinks about things and how it will affect the length of posts. As long as everything is clear and flows nicely you will be fine.

I mentioned earlier that I had difficult reading your posts, Anglekos. I just found myself getting lost over and over again in the writing. I like your writing, but I just find it confusing from time to time. Strangely enough, I had no problem reading your final post, but the first one was by far the hardest personally. If you’re not rereading your posts out loud to hear how it sounds, I suggest you do. If you are, then I suggest trying to get someone else to read it and seeing what they think.


Total Writing Style Score – 8/17


Wild Card – 8/8 – I’m giving you both this score because I feel like I was a little harsh with this judgment and because I feel bad for making you both wait so long for this. All in all it was a decent thread, and I’d like to thank you both for the read.


FINAL SCORE – 35/58!!

Lord Anglekos wins!


Rewards:

Lord Anglekos receives 1050 EXP and 139 GP!!
Balgar Grimeye receives 150 EXP and 95 GP!!

[Silence Sei]

Obvious, exp and GP had been added for a while, so I'mma be moving this.