Freezer Burn

[Ashla]

Closed to Firemaw.

The Citadel was a remarkable place. It was a place of combat. Amazing how even death was unenforceable here, as the wonderful monks of this place could even revive the dead. All wounds could be healed, all danger removed... bodily harm could be removed anyways. If anyone knew, Ashla did. There was no deliverance from the mind. No healing of the harms inside. No redemption from the sins even unintentionally committed. The head was a tormentor, ripping apart the kingdom of the soul it owned.

So the monks weren't physiologists, but they were excellent with what they did do. When Ashla walked into the Citadel halls and asked for a fight, they obliged.

Ashla Icebreaker. Leader of the group P.A.L.E. Lost duchess of her country Eiskalt. Loving mother. Forsaken daughter. Powerful bloodline. Sickening roots. That was who she was. And she was strong. Stronger than before. When she stepped into the chambers of the Citadel, swept away to whatever arena awaited her, she knew it.

The arena was a storage room. Isle upon isle of shelves stocked with supplies was there. In the darkened room made of oak. There was one side of the room with massive glass windows. Bright moonlight shone through, bathing the large room with shallow light. Ashla stood at the doorway and cautiously looked around. She waited...

She waited for her opponent.

[Django Firemaw]

Django's travels have brought him to some rather bizarre places in the past but this place would take the cake if it didn't already seem like it claimed the cake long ago. In this place, injury, malice, confrontation was inconsequential. Death was as immutable as a scraped knee and while such a promise was incredible it filled with him with a dread only an immortal could feel. If death no longer has meaning what does life mean here?

He wiped the contemplative sweat on his brow aside as he continued to make his way through the citadel affording passing glances at the structures and people that commanded attention. There were certainly many to brings his eyes to attention. So many he was beginning to feel outclassed but the promise of a strong opponent was not something he was taught to shy away from. As gravely as he looked back on the lessons he received from his family he would not dilute the usefulness of their teachings. He approached one of the monk characters and requested entrance to the arena to face off against an anonymous opponent. The promise of a potential futile fight was almost poetic in a classic underdog story sort of way.

He entered the arena. He was pleasantly surprised at the simplicity in the setting yet it still commanding a certain grace. Usually these kinds of sports were massively overblown. He stopped after catching first sight of his adversary and looked in a quasi daze for a moment.

"Oh my, pardon for any harm I might cause in advance. May we have a good fight?"

He said in his usual courteous tone taking a bow in respect to his foe. He wasn't sure how to feel about his adversary being a woman as he was raised to treat them with significant respect but this one was of her wits. He shouldn't worry about violating any code of honor.

[Ashla]

Despite the fact that she was in the Citadel where opponents had burned her alive and poisoned her, Ashla couldn't help but smile in return to her opponent's bow. Ashla had been deceived time and time again, the time for jokes and games surpassed her. She couldn't be fooled easily. She could see a generally kind man here. Why a sweetheart was here? She didn't care all that much. She herself first came here by accident as a younger, more naive girl. She later came here a short while ago in her first few months of pregnancy. Now Ashla took her time off, had a beautiful daughter, and was back now. Having to deal with crime lords and creepy assassins on a regular basis, she was relieved to see a kinder opponent standing before her.

The room was clear to see, but it was still dark. Dust flew in the air, tempting Ashla to sneeze. She held herself though. The Icebreaker placed her gloved hand on her broadsword, still sheathed on her waist. She grasped the handle and eyed her opponent, "Hello." She smirked, "Yes, a decent fight would be nice." She drew her damascus blade at average speed. She held it in her left hand. Ashla was completely capable of using both hands in daily life, due to being a nifty duel-blader. Still though, she was left handed and relied upon her main arm for her crucial battle attacks.

Ashla always tested her opponents afar before getting close. It was a general rule of thumb for her. She wanted to know what she was dealing with. Thus, she opened her right hand as well. Inside it, a blue light formed. Ice formed all over in the form of a spear. Oh yes, her frozen bloodline abilities aided her well in any fight. Being one of the last of a powerful family, carrying the ability to control ice, Ashla was still young... but her family name alone marked how much she was put through already.

She lifted her complete Crystalline Spear into throwing position. After taking a moment to aim, she threw it towards her opponent. She would now keep back and watch. What was this man capable of?

[Django Firemaw]

He was pleased that his adversary despite detailing more experience than himself returned his respect gesture. The room and the pleasant aesthetic of the woman before him lulled him into a state of placidity. Erected monuments to knowledge surrounded them illuminated by the low glow of the moon that echoed coolly throughout the room and made the hard cover spines of the books in the shelves shine. This almost seemed like a date the more he looked over the room as she readied herself. The sudden collection of frost in the air mixing with the dust that clung to it didn't seem threatening until he noticed where the frost was originating from.

The spear of ice whistled silently through the air that space them apart. Before the ice spear found itself into anywhere vital the claymore that sat across Django's back was already drawn and grazing against the shaft of the spear.The sound of his blade narrowly deflecting the spear shattered the silence, he was now aware of at least one of his enemies abilities and would not allow such a tactic to strike true, he hadn't brought a sweater.

He ducked behind one of the shelves with on powerful strafe to the side. It was safer to circumvent the spears of ice than it was to charge forward and hope she wouldn't be good enough to hit a target barreling straight at her. Already he began to use the shelves as cover from her longer range attacks and circling around for the potential of a blind spot.

[Ashla]

Ashla found herself in a confusing situation.

When opponents hid, it meant ambush. But what kind? Ashla knew that out in the open like this, she was exposed to attacks from anywhere. Inside the isles, Ashla would be blind to attacks, and she could get lost and carried away within. Either way, both seemed pretty bad. Being hands on though, the young Icebreaker plucked up courage, gulped once, then walked in.

The moonlight still reached, but it was still darker. Various things were cluttered on the shelves. Books were crammed, food was stacked, bottles somehow weren't falling off and breaking. Ashla hated being smack in between both shelves, but she dared not risk going over to the edges for breakables to fall ontop of her.

She circled one isle and entered the other, it was mostly the same. In the isles where moonlight was clearest, dust could be seen floating in the air. In the darker isles, shadows of the stored items seemed nightmarish. Ashla kept her guard up the entire time, she would not tary. Even if her opponent was not notable yet, he was out there; ready to sneak up and pounce like a tiger in the night. Ashla had both hands gripping her sword, which was pointed downwards. Sweat was coming off her hands. As calm as her face seemed, her eyes teamed with nervousness. She was wary.

She was waiting.

[Django Firemaw]

Django stalked between the wide divisions of shelves. Stealthily he stood on the tips of feet to mitigate the amount of noise he would make as he traveled between the shelves. He never once took his eyes of his half elvish adversary, the smallest slip up in between these obstructing stalks of literature and the positions of the preyed and preyed upon would be switch at the drop of a pin.

The target has shown some aptitude in the arcane this was not something he was willing to gamble with. The spear that had collided with his blade was heavy, it would have caused considerable damage to his weapon had it been a head on collision. With one deep shallow contained breath Django could feel the endorphins rush through his system at his command. Suddenly even in the dark only pierce by the spears of light that dared enter this morgue quiet place from the high hanging windows everything seemed sharp. His perception of all he surveyed multiplied as did his ability to slowly stalk through the storage area, though now at a quicker pace.

He moved to the shelf that hid Ashla behind it. He looked through the cracks of the shelf that were not occupied by books and once she neared close to a space wide enough he threw to her side a small packet of cloth which ignited in front of her in a dazzling crackle of white hot light.

[Ashla]

Ashla hated ambushes.

She expected an explosion, but it never came. Instead, a blinding light, well, blinded her. She pulled her arms up to her face. Her opponent was clever. She quickly ducked and blindly rolled over. She still could not see, adrenaline pumped as she realized her opponent could attack her at any moment...

The Icebreaker pulled her blade into a tight defense. She would not fall, even without her sight! She was, literally, all ears. She bathed her ears in any and all sounds that surrounded her. She kept herself steady, refusing to lose her cool. She would stand today, she would win.