black shadow Vs Tobias Stalt

[Silence Sei]

You have until 12:01 March 10th. Good luck!

[Tobias Stalt]

Cold wind surged through the leafless trees, lifeless silhouettes staining an otherwise perfect field of powder. Winter never left Salvar, but in the places that it touched anew, the cold was far more brutal. Tobias sneezed through the scarf he had adopted for this routine hike. Steam billowed through the woven accesory, dancing lazily before the Soldier's eyes. "Why do I always get stuck with the shit duties?"

Though he needed no answer, Tobias knew why he was chosen. "You have a tactical mind, Stalt," the Captain had told him, "so you're going to get the short end of a few sticks. In the end, if you don't get yourself killed, you might actually profit."

There had been a time where monetary gain and riches appealed to Tobias, but it had been replaced with a bitter quest to survive. The concept of advancement was foreign to him. Instead, Stalt saw only the mission. Squatting down, he looked down the side of the mountain toward the ground below. "Gods," he hissed, "this is an indefensible position, too. They all are. If the enemy doesn't overrun us, the elements would end us."

With a sigh, Tobias slowly stood. Their Salvic allies had requested a detailed topographic report of prospective strategic positions. Thus far, Tobias had found none. "This region is perfect for two things," he muttered, recalling his excursion into the frozen wastes with Jak and the rest. "Death and suicide. And I dare say, every bloody elevated position out here has been good for both."

Stretching his arms out, Tobi let out a wicked yawn and heard several popping noises from his back. "It's getting toward time for my report," he muttered, "I should head back." As his arms fell back to his sides, the Soldier let his left hand rest on the hilt of his blade. He looked several different directions, then raised an eyebrow. This was turning into a terrible day.

Snow still fell from the sky, though it was a smattering on the harsh wind. Every so often a howling breeze kicked up and hit him in the face. Tobias winced at the cold, shivering. "Death and suicide."

[black shadow]

Black Shadow was drawn to this area by some unknown feeling. Someone or something wanted him to be here. It wasn't long before he soon found out. When Shadow reached the top of the hill, he could not help but notice the lonely man standing below him.

This is your fourth fight of the leagues. Kill him, and you will be rewarded greatly. Black Shadow heard a voice inside his head say.

So that is why I came here? Okay, let's do this then. Black Shadow thought as he pulled out his bow and readied an arrow. The bitter cold sent chills up his back as he tried to aim the arrow. As he released, his arms could not help but to shake uncontrollably. The arrow flew past the mans head, missing it by inches. Dang. guess it wont be that easy.

[Tobias Stalt]

At the twang of a bowstring, Tobias jolted. The whisper of an arrow mere millimeters from his head coaxed him into spinning about. Whereas before there had been nothing to see, now Tobias observed his would-be assailant trembling at the torment of mighty Salvar. The cold was a cruelty beyond measure to one who was not accustomed to its touch.

Fortunately, Tobias had broken bread with the bastard before. Salvar's unforgiving chill did not daunt the Alerian Captain; instead, the Soldier adjusted his heavy cloak as he strode forward with confidence. Shaky aim did little to deter his forward march, for Tobias knew it was a matter of constant movement. Should he come close enough to give the archery any certainty, his steel would speak for him.

Uttering its cruel cry beneath the blasting winds, Tobias' blade yawned it's arrival on the mountain. The pale snow reflected in the mirror polished weapon, painting it with pristine pallor. Before long, Tobias was hellbent on tainting the peak with crimson. So far, nothing had been exchanged between them save an arrow and several tense steps. The best was yet to come.

In the number of feet between them, Tobias trudge through a drift of snow that served only to annoy him. "The funny thing about snow," Tobias called to his enemy, "is that it doesn't care how cold you are." A strange way to begin conversation, but Tobias decided it would be sufficient. Perhaps this man would explain why they he was here, or what he sought to gain from attacking a soldier.

Perhaps death would suffice to satiate Tobias' interests. Time and swordplay would decided the age old contest of wills. Beneath the howling, footsteps that faded away brought the two men together. Tobias chuckled at the irony. "Such is life," he murmured, and he raised his blade up.