Final Fite II: Frigid Fite

[Hailwing Of The Citadel]

Hailwing of the Citadel was not aware of the passage of time. Locked in darkness and un-life, the statue stood by the entryway to the Citadel complex as a stoic reminder to explorers, to adventurers, to fighters and budding soldiers that he was there, waiting for their challenge. His popularity surged in recent months as heroes Althanas-wide became aware of his existence, of his determination in battle, but it was lost on the creature. Each time he awoke, he was aware only of the last moments of his previous battle.

This would be the case again. John had called for him once more, just minutes after their first encounter (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?30174-Final-Fite-I-A-Floaty-Fite). Perhaps his curiosity was getting the best of him, or perhaps Hailwing's relentless-until-dead approach brought something out of the human. Whatever the case, Hailwing's statue vanished from the Citadel in a bright, blue light, leaving an empty space where it had been standing.

Hailwing reappeared elsewhere, no longer a statue but a humanoid being of pink skin and excitable blonde hair. He felt the air grasp his skin and reveled in it, the cold embracing his muscular limbs like a long-last family member.

The winged warrior was standing in a frozen tunnel, the walls constructed of clear ice that must have been twenty feet tall. His feet were planted on a similar surface. Surrounded by blueish ice, Hailwing stepped forward and down the hall, trying to gather his bearings by looking upward - but there was only a crystalline ceiling, like the roof of a cave, staring back at him. He nearly slipped and fell more than once, and had to adjust his speed and method of walking.

He reached the end of the tunnel, where the walls gave way to present two paths - one going left and one going right. Both ways revealed similar tunnels, though Hailwing could see branching paths breaking off from the walls in several places.

Choosing the left, the warrior stalked onward and decided to break off of the path into a side corridor. This was narrower, and colder as a result, but the floor was covered in frost which made the trek simpler. Before he realized, he'd taken another turn and was facing what appeared to be a dead end. On his left, his right, and ahead of him were impossibly high, square blocks of ice.

A prison of ice. A maze or labyrinth.

Hailwing put his hands on his hips and tried to retrace his steps.

[redford]

The first breath John drew in this new arena was chilled, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the arena, he looked up, spying an arced dome, immeasurably large and high above him, full of sparkling crystals. Whether they gave off their own light, or merely reflected it from an unseen source, John stared for a moment in wonder, consistently impressed with the monks’ imagination. He returned his gaze forwards to see a hallway, flanked in translucent blue ice, extending up much higher than he would be able to climb. He turned, realizing that the hallway was a dead end. The giant’s eyebrows furrowed as he played the last battle with Hailwing over in his mind. His frustration threatened to boil over into anger, considering just how foolish he had been in that fight. He looked down the hallway, scowling at it as if daring it to make him angrier.

But either way, there was only one way to go.

He walked forward, his metal boots clacking against the floor of ice. John’s face began to feel the chill, and he was thankful for the resistance his armor afforded him as he reached a fork, another hallway crossing this one. He looked down both ends, barely seeing a few other branches from the pathways in the ice.

A maze, hmm? He thought as he turned left, following the channel cut into the ice. It was quiet, eerily so, as he took another turn, this time nearly slipping as the metal soles of his boots slid a few inches, threatening to topple him. John growled in frustration for a moment before an idea solidified in his mind. He concentrated a little, and short, sharp spikes grew from his feet, digging into the ice and helping to anchor him. He tested them a few times and shortened them a little, satisfied then with their traction. As he began to walk again, though, he heard something else; someone else.

A shadow, nebulous and ill-defined, was moving behind the corridor he paced down. There was only one person who it could be.

Payback time… John thought as he grew spikes at his knuckles, and began to punch the wall, sending showers of ice away with each strike. He aimed to get to Hailwing as soon as possible and give him a piece of his mind, even if he had to go through a wall of ice to do it.