Rising to the Challenge

[Sid]

[closed]
Following his crushing defeat to the inhuman Koran Seether, Sid traveled to Alerar for a brief respite from the Citadel, but he was unable to stay away for long. During the last few months Sid had been developing a taste for violence that would not be denied. Rather than risk the rangers, the Citadel provided a place for him to fight and kill indiscriminately at no risk to himself and completely within the law. It was that time again.

So far the season had been mild with a very slight chill, at least in Sid’s opinion. As he walked down the dusty road clad in only dark pants and a light shirt, he attracted a few looks from the locals in their bundled furs. The scenery was beautiful; grassy knolls covered with a bright film of ice, dull gray overcast, small cottages with icicles hanging low and smoke billowing out of their chimneys. This would have been a record high spring in Berevar where Sid had grown up, but the people of Corone acted like it was complete misery.

As he walked, the Citadel began to loom higher and higher, right up until it blocked out the entire horizon. The structure was a massive testament and tribute to battle, pride, and the warrior spirit. Taking one final breath of crisp clear air, Sid plunged ahead in the dark torch lit lobby of the building. Inside, Sid felt dozens of eyes crawl across him, each evaluating him for weapons, armor, strength, speed, and overall combat efficiency, but he ignored it all. Many were spectators, people that waited eagerly for matches that the monks allowed them to view and bet on, but here or there spots of exotic weapons and armament stood out. These were the worst kind of fighters, too cowardly to face whatever might appear in the arena and opting to instead choose their opponents, Sid had nothing but disdain for their kind.

Moving to the closest monk, Sid asserted his need to battle, immediately. The monk was pleased at first, but on looking Sid over, he hesitated. “Perhaps you would like to choose an opponent, or wait for a proper match.”

Irritated, Sid knew the citadel was never empty. There was always someone to fight, always. “Is there really no open challenger? Has the cold scared them away?” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but seeing armed men lingering in the lobby idly was frustrating.

The monk seemed only more hesitant, but finally spoke. “Well, there is one…But surely, you would rather see someone first?”

“Well then, take me to him. Now.”

The monk looked about quickly for another of his kind, but found no support. “Are you sure? You will not be persuaded?”

The monk’s nervousness and reluctance to allow the fight was becoming infectious, but after making a scene Sid couldn’t back down. In a flat voice he answered. “I am sure.”

Letting out a sigh, the monk looked him over once more. “But you don’t even have a weapon! I’ve seen you fight before, and I suggest you wait.” The emphasis, he placed on the waiting was noted, as well as Sid’s thoughtlessness. He should have bought a weapon before coming; he even had the money for it! Must have been because his path hadn’t gone through the bazaar as it usually did, but it was still too late to back down.

“Then give me a weapon, if it bothers you so much.”

The monk considered this for a moment, and his eyes seemed to lighten. “This isn’t normally allowed, but considering who it is…Yes, I suppose I can do that. You’ll need every advantage…”

Sid watched as the monk walked away, headed directly for one of the side walls. Without stopping, the monk passed right through the wall like it was made of air, which it likely was. The monks were well known illusionists, and it certainly explained Sid never seeing anything other than arenas in his many visits.

Having eavesdropped on his conversation, several onlookers began chatting excitedly as they moved down one of the hallways, though Sid couldn’t see if a monk was leading them. Sid was only beginning to build up his anger at spectator crowds when the monk returned and beckoned him down a passage.

The hallways weren’t as brightly lit as the lobby, the torches spaced very far apart, leaving Sid all but blind. The monk led with that second nature knowledge, navigating the corridors without even looking at the door numbers. Abruptly stopping, the monk turned to him. “It’s not too late to back out, you know that right? No one would think less of you.” Sid remained unmoving, determined. Opening the door, he offered his last bits of advice. “Just, well, be careful. The arena is your friend and your enemy. Remember that.”

[Cyrus the virus]

It had been at least a year since Luc Kraus last stepped onto the marble floor of the Citadel, but he found, upon entering, that his reputation would not need to be regained all over again. Immediately upon catching the eyes of the monk working the desk - eyes that quickly shot wide open, Luc noted with some amusement - only a moment was allowed to pass before he was met by three others.

The four stood in front of him, shadowed by him as the sun beat on his back from outside. Questions flew haphazardly from their mouths, like ill-aimed arrows from an amateur archer's bow. Naturally, it did not take long for Luc to feel the familiar glow of overconfidence as it took him over.

He had to play the role of the mighty mage, of course, and he did so with an exasperated sigh, pushing past the four gathered monks to stand in the center of the main parlor. The chamber was large and white with marble, with tapestries that fell down from the ceiling.

"I simply crave, once again, the glory that comes from smashing my foes," he said at length, attempting to satisfy each question with that one single thought.

It was a shallow reason, however, and despite how prominent that feeling was at the end of a battle, it was not his true motivation for returning to the Citadel once more. His body had reached the peak of magical ability, at least in terms of his elemental manipulation, and that was something he could deal with. However, with each new spell he learned, Luc had begun to feel more and more ill. He was trying to pack too much power into his tiny frame, and he needed to discipline his mind and body to a point he'd never been at before.

The Citadel was a good place to start taking him a step in that direction.

After some further questions from the monks, and some slight discussion regarding his fight, Luc found himself before a familiar swirling portal, grinning as he recalled the many times he'd stepped through similar doors. "I've been away for a long time," was all he said before stepping inside.

When the dizzying effect of the portal ended, Luc was greeted by the chirp of a small bird as it landed on his shoulder. The mage ignored it and got a sense for his surroundings. All at once he saw the lake, the platform he stood on, the forest on shore, and the clear bright sky. The feel of the water was almost as powerful as the clear air, both of which knocked on his magical sense as it they were an anxious visitor.

The man with the green cape stood solidly on the platform, a great floating slab of wood that bobbed up in the center of the lake. He could have flown, he knew, but wouldn't reveal that power unless it became necessary.

And that's all it was. A floating wooden platform as thick as a dwarf was tall, a beautiful day, and the promise of blood. It occured to him that he could sink the platform, and he filed that strategy away in his mind.

He casted Stoneskin upon himself, the perfect enchantment to use when he was to face an unknown opponent, and he waited.

[Sid]

As he emerged from the swirling portal, Sid took in his arena. Immediately surrounding him were a few deciduous trees, though he couldn’t see it, from a distance the sound of some body of water splashing against rocks greeted him. Taking a few steps about to better see his surroundings, Sid inspected the area for surprise attackers. Sufficed that there were none, he attempted to gain his bearings. The sounds were coming from what Sid decided to be the south, but his immediate surroundings warranted more attention.

Stepping carefully over some protruding roots, Sid entered a small clearing. The area wasn’t more than twenty feet across before meeting trees again, and smack dab in the center of the clearing lay a strange silvery…bar, for lack of better description. As he watched, the object changed shape. It moved fluidly from a pole like shape to that of sphere and then to a brick, followed shortly by new shapes and never regaining the old. Fearing this new shape to be a distraction, Sid immediately backed out of the clearing, to better examine the object from what he deemed a safe distance.

After throwing several rocks at or near it, Sid determined there was nothing inherently dangerous about it or its surroundings. Once more moving into the clearing, Sid cast suspicious eyes about for any sign of movement, but detected nothing. As he approached, the object quivered, then lay perfectly still in the shape of an egg. Arching his neck awkwardly to not lose sight, Sid hunched low to the ground and reached out to touch it.

Often people will do something and regret it a while later when it comes back to bite them, but Sid didn’t regret things later. He regretted them now, as in this instant. Such was his regret on touching the silver amorphous object, which immediately leapt from the ground and attached itself to him. Despite his hasty retreat to the woods, desperate and painful attempts to brush it off against trees and bushes, and even his ridiculous arm waving, the object refused to let go.

After several minutes of exhaustive effort, Sid stood panting for breath somewhere outside of the woods. Putting one arm on his head to catch his breath and keeping the other as far from his body as possible, Sid looked about the area. He seemed to be standing on the far shore of a small lake surrounded by woodlands starting not twenty feet from the water. Likely the trees didn’t grow farther due to the smooth stone gravel that covering the ground and becoming progressively larger and less smooth as it neared the water’s edge. Thinking perhaps to wash the silver blob from his arm, Sid waded a short distance into the water until reaching his knees. As he bent to submerge his hand, Sid’s eyes locked onto something he’d previously failed to notice. Bobbing gently in the midst of the lake stood a solitary figure, his cape fluttering out behind him in the gentle breeze.

Reaching instinctually for the weapon that wasn’t there, Sid nearly touched the silver orb to his hip. It was a near miss, but Sid still found himself wishing for a weapon. As he thought it, the object morphed again for the first time since attaching itself. From his hand emerged a long thin blade, the guard encasing his hand perfectly and smoothly.

The monk did say he’d give me a weapon…

Admiring the light yet strong blade, Sid took a practice swing at the water. The blade never touched the water, but instead produced a steaming line against the water. In his awe, Sid moved too slowly and was inadvertently burned by the boiling water left in its wake. Pointing his magical weapon at his enemy, Sid was brimming with confidence, even smiling.

With a blade this fine, I am unstoppable.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc didn't have to wait long before he noticed a glimmer near the shore. He turned and looked across the water, his sharp green eyes making out the form of a man. From such a distance, the mage could see short dark hair, but little else. At any rate, the form didn't seem anxious to swim out and meet him, so with a reluctant sigh Luc stepped off the platform.

The wind slowed him, and just before he struck the water, the surface just below his feet froze. Luc landed on the ice and nonchalantly walked forward. Behind him the ice melted back into water, and at the same precise moment a new platform manifested itself where he was stepping. He figured it would look quite intimidating, and the thought made him smile.

When he got within talking distance, not quite close enough for the man to strike at him with his strange sword, Luc stopped and stood on a very small platform of ice that seemed just big enough to hold his weight. The man before him was taller and leaner than he was, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for Luc, who never relied on his size anyway.

The Flame Sword of Slykrit dangled at his side, and Luc rested a gloved hand on its handle. “A day in paradise isn’t quite what you expected, is it?” he asked, seeming almost jovial. Of course, Luc was more than prepared to fry the flesh from the boy’s bones. “Don’t worry, I have other things planned. If there’s a name you need to curse after all of this, it’s Luc Kraus. Good luck.”

Without waiting for the man to get ready, Luc held his hand out toward the water around Sid’s knees. Instantly, the cool aqua began to freeze. Only if Sid was fast enough, could he use the muscles in his legs to break free before the ice became as strong as titanium. Luc didn’t expect him to be quite so ready, so he was already drawing his sword with his free hand.

It burst into flames and set his face aglow with orange-red light. With a sneer of resentment, of angry boredom and disappointment, Luc would wait for Sid to be stuck before he sent the fire.

[Sid]

As his opponent approached, Sid couldn’t help but gaze as the man walked. He was walking on the water, not in it. As he got closer, Sid spotted the blue shifting of water into ice, but was still awed. His shock faded only as the man began speaking, boasting about his greatness.

In all of his previous fights, Sid had fought conventional opponents, fought them with swords or fists. Though he had fought one magic wielding girl, she had not been of the same caliber as this man before him, and fighting against magic was a steep learning curve. Unaware of his disadvantage, Sid remained foolhardily planted in the water, even though he’d seen his enemy’s abilities to create ice. Magic changed the very face of strategy, and Sid changed slowly.

When his cape-wearing foe held out his hand bizarrely, Sid played the fool. He flinched and brought his blade before him, unaware that it would do him no good. The water about his knees froze solid, right to the joints, pinning him in place. Never loosing eye contact, Sid froze in fear at what he saw. The man held a huge flame of some sort, red orange plumes bursting from its hilt and the heat making his eyes water. This man was so much more then he seemed.

As any animal backed into a corner does, Sid struck back. Leaning as far forward as possibly, Sid attempted to stab the ice. For a moment, he feared the ice too hard, but his strength would not be denied. The blade sank through the ice with the excruciating shriek of metal on metal, plunging full in till Sid’s hand lay atop the frozen surface.

Slowly, a clever smirk crossed Sid’s face. Beneath half a foot of ice lay countless buckets of water. Beneath his foe lay an increasing pocket of compressed steam, just waiting to burst free. As it built, it increased in heat and pressure, while the ice weakened. Something had to give.

[Cyrus the virus]

"Not talkative?" Luc wondered aloud as Sid remarkably stabbed through the ice. It must not have attained full strength at that point. "At least tell me your name so I can have the pleasure of forgetting it!"

He laughed aloud, finding himself hilarious, when the bubbling of the water at his feet finally caught his attention. He lost his focus on the ice around Sid's feet, causing it to melt instantly, and a pillar of boiling water erupted around him for a split-second before it died down once more. The ice at his feet melted and he fell down into the cool water.

He was up again almost immediately, a layer of his Stoneskin spell gone. He didn't bother with the ice tricks this time, simply willing the wind to build up under him and push him upward a few feet above the lake.

"Do you think you're funny, you simple whelp, you?" he seethed. He was unharmed save for his dignity, which seemed to be the most sensitive thing about him. Despite the green aura about him from his protective enchantment, Luc dripped water from his hair and clothing. "I don't know how you did that, but it won't happen again. The elements follow my whim, not yours."

He growled, focusing his energy so that the water on him dripped faster. A wind blew into him and he was dry again, remarkably. But still his breathing was quick, angry. "Idiot!" he spat.

He lifted his hands, and the water behind Sid obeyed, rising up like an upward waterfall. It took every inch of focus and strength that he had, but the great wall turned swiftly into a thick barrier of ice, barring Sid any easy escape back onto shore. He was now perfectly in Luc's realm.

It occured to him then that his sword had been extinguished, but was still grasped in his risen arm. With a thought it burst into flames, but he was spent for the moment. Knowing he was perfectly out of reach of the black-haired man below, Luc merely waited to gain some of his strength back.

Calm... Calm... he thought to himself, and it was working.

[Sid]

Frustratingly, Sid’s opponent had not lost the advantage for more than a second before regaining it again. Hovering in front of him with that irritatingly cocky attitude, Sid knew he was in for a harder time. Taken at face value, this man seemed to be a reincarnation of the legendary geomancer Ta’Rah herself. More likely, he was some hack mage with a few good spells. Regardless, as Ta’Rah died by Stil’Khan’s hand, so would this Luc Kraus die by Sid’s.

Knowing that every element was a weapon against him, Sid was at a loss for what to do. His escape route was cut off, his enemy out of reach, and Sid himself impeded by the water he stood in. Without much other choice, Sid deftly inserted a cigarette-like tube into his mouth, careful to avoid activating it.

Inside the tube lay the processed drug from which Sid derived his greatest powers, but activate it too soon and unbearable weakness would rear its ugly head. Every weapon had two edges, bladed or not. Sid knew this and knew where his own lay, but where did his enemy’s? The short man floated mere feet from his reach, had removed all escape, and stood posed with flaming sword in hand, yet he waited. For all his boasting, Luc’s powers were not unlimited, his efforts so far clearly exhausting him, and his distance showed a certain wariness.

Unable to strike out physically, Sid resorted to the most basic attacks he could.

Nodding to the wall behind him, Sid spoke in a measured calm. “You seem to have missed. As most amateurs don't know this, I thought I'd go ahead and tell you." Hesitating a second, Sid dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "A sword is only a few feet long and requires you be at least that close to an enemy to hurt them, but I’m fine if you want to try it from up there. I’ve got all day. Oh, and remember to use to the pointy end.”

As he stalled, Sid slowly moved his feet in an effort to churn up the lakebed, carefully kicking at lumps in the dirt, loosening small stones and gathering them near him. He’d be needing them.

[Cyrus the virus]

((Sorry for the wait!))

There he hovered, several feet above and beyond the man who waded in the water below. Luc's blade was now level with his hip, the flames licking up into the air just next to his face before winking up. This fire seemed to flare brighter as the sound of Sid's voice registered in Luc's mind, but it was a fleeting, temporary effect.

Calm... he demanded of himself.

"To call this a mere sword is an insult," he said, holding out the enchanted Slykrit blade so that the fire wrapped about the steel. "It doesn't need to follow the rules the way you petty folk with your iron hunks do. Need an example?"

Luc didn't wait for an answer, and feeling fully vitalized again, he needed little preperation for his next assault. He brought the sword back behind his head and slashed forward, sending a vertical arc of roaring flames to life. It soared forward like a flying blade, the sound of the fire loud in the silent lake.

Before it reached Sid, a second before, even, Luc spread his arms and willed the fire to expand, transforming it in an instant from a mere arc to a rolling wave. Even if the black haired warrior dove down below to avoid it, Luc could easily feed the flames and keep them there for hours. With nothing but an ice wall behind him and open water beyond, Sid was in a predicament. The mage couldn't wait to smell the roasting flesh as it peeled off the man's bones.

[Sid]

If there had been a better time to use, Sid had never seen it. Biting down hard on the drug, Sid’s eyes fogged over seeming very much so blind, though he’d never seen things so clearly or in so much detail. His face tightened, veins popped, his whole body undergoing the momentary strain as the drug took effect. He had absolute control, able to force his body to the very limits and ignore previously crippling pain.

Reaching out his extended mind, Sid grasped at the stones he’s gathered from lakebed, mentally hurling them at the mage behind his wall of fire, hoping to disperse the fire. When the man fell the ice had melted instantly, his magic undone. Perhaps the stones would have the same effect on the fire.

Gritting his teeth and realizing the stones moved too slowly with his limited power to stop the fire before it seared his own flesh, Sid was left with little choice. He had to minimize damage. Charging forward, Sid rushed headlong into the wave of fire, his legs straining against the knee deep water but pumping furiously onward regardless. He could have tried to escape the fire, but then he would only have succeeded in being burned worse and accomplished nothing.

As he met the fire, a river of tears erupted from his eyes and boiled, his skin blackened and peeled, his thin shirt turning to red ash almost instantly, but the smells were the worst part. He’d dealt with pain before, the drug made pain seem as something in the background, an itching in the back of his mind. The smells though, they were insuppressible. The smell of burning hair and burning wool were enough to make him gag, but at the same time sizzling cooked meat made his mouth water, the situation making both revolting.

As he broke from the fire, billowing smoke and looking very much a monster, Sid spotted his opponent several feet above and only a few feet away. Despite knowing he couldn’t jump such a height, Sid pumped near lethal amounts of adrenaline into his system, his heart pounding with the unusual strain and he leapt after the mage anyway, praying for his weapon to extend, and extend it did. The blade turning into little more than a sliver, Sid struck at his opponents legs, hoping against all hope that he would fall to the ground, where Sid could mangle him with fists, or stab him if the monk’s strange weapon cooperated.

Tiny beads of blood ran across him and leaked from numerous places in his body, despite most of his body being instantly cauterized. He wouldn’t last too much longer, and if the drug wore off while he was still in combat, all of the wounds he could ever have taken wouldn’t matter when his own adrenaline secretions killed him. There was only so much the heart could take.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc watched as the fire roared over the water, swallowing Sid whole like a ravenous beast. He saw the stones coming, and with a thought sent them away. They were, after all, the earth. Thinking he had the match won, the mage descended slowly. But amazingly, impossibly, Sid emerged from the fire’s edge, his eyes looking as fierce as the flames. Shocked, Luc didn’t have the presence of mind to wink out the fire before it struck the wall of ice, beginning to melt it away.

Impossible, he thought, his frustration evident on his face, a wrathful frown appearing. Sid, blackened like a burned sausage, slashed at the mage’s legs. Luc didn’t even try to avoid it, letting the needlelike sliver bounce off of the second layer of his Stoneskin enchantment.

Not backing off, Luc threw both of his hands ahead. In an instant, a gust rose from behind him, throwing up his cape, his hair, his clothes. It blew onward and toward Sid, at least three hundred pounds of pressure that Luc hoped would pull the burned man under the water and hold him there.

Perhaps he isn’t human at all, Luc reflected. If he can endure a wave of flames, there’s something about him I don’t know… What a curious insect.

He was past the point where he felt the need to duel with words. Sid had shown himself to be more than a weakling whelp -- not that it put him in Luc's league -- and that made him deserving of at least a shred of dignity. Until the next time he dared open his mouth, that was.

[Sid]

Futile.

The sword didn’t work, didn’t even cut into cloth, it just bounced off some invisible barrier. His stones didn’t even get close enough to be deflected, much less provide any kind of distraction. All his efforts had been futile so far. As much as it pained Sid to even think it, he had to admit he was weak by comparison.

Burned badly, overexerted, and struggling to keep his head above water, Sid was in a very bad place. The wind was crushing, forcing him down his hands and knees, both shaking from the strain. He wouldn’t be able to keep his face up much longer, it was time for something desperate. Gritting his teeth as muscles screamed and burned, Sid threw his head in the air and hollered as best he could as the cloaked man floating above.

“I surrender!”

Falling flat forward, Sid took what he couldn’t help but believe to be his final breath. The water was chaos, scraping him against the rocks and contorting his body unnaturally in the wind-powered current, Sid could only pray. The man had been boasting before, surely he would allow his enemy to live a little longer if only to rub salt in his wounded pride.

[Cyrus the virus]

At the sound of those two words, Luc allowed the blasting wind to cease, giving Sid a bit of room to breathe.

As much as Luc thought his power was beyond that of others’, he couldn’t recall a single time that someone had admitted it and surrendered. There was something quaint, something cute about it, that filled him with a different kind of pride. He felt as if he’d struck a genuine fear into his opponent, and it gave him a high that he’d never quite achieved before.

Rather than boosting up his own ego, Luc’s ego was boosted for him through the fear he’d put into somebody. How intriguing it was!

It was with a satisfied, understanding grin that the mage lowered himself to Sid’s level, allowing his feet and shins to lower down into the water of the lake. The fighter was face-down in the water, but like appendages, a series of liquid tentacles wrapped about him and lifted him upright. “There is no shame in knowing your limitations, especially against a man of my talents. In all honesty, I’m pleased by your courage! Not anyone can stand up against me and gain a good impression, you know.”

“Your prize for your honesty is the right to keep your pride,” he said with a smile. “No death for you, then, just the understanding that Luc Kraus is not to be trifled with. A lesson you should spread, I say!”

As if on cue, the two were wrapped in a whirling white light and whisked away. A familiar sensation came over Luc, and in a moment he was standing by the desk of the Citadel, the winner, presented with the open archway and a sunny day beyond it.

“Congratulations, mister Kraus! An entertaining battle as always!” cried a monk from behind the bureau. Luc turned to look at him and thought to bask in his cheap glory, but caught himself before a word came out of his mouth.

Instead, he threw out a hand and sent a gust of wind swirling about the monk. Startled and surprised, the bald man struggled to reach and grab hold of his desk. When he was within an inch, the wind increased and lifted him from the floor, sending the screaming man flying over the desk and into the center of the parlor.

The tumultuous gust died, sending items from the monk’s desk all over the marble tiles. Luc let out a bellowing laugh, the biggest expression of joy he’d shown in all his life, and slowly made his way out of the Citadel.

((Apologies for the bunnying with lifting Sid up, please let me know if that isn’t okay with you. Nice battle :D))

[Sid]

The desperate plea worked just as it was meant to. Sid’s body was pulled free of the water, exhausted but intact. Coughing out a few mouthfuls of water with short ragged gasps, Sid lacked the breath to disrupt Luc’s speech and absorbed it quietly. It was not the time to be a smartass anyway.

The sudden flash of light and return to the citadel presented only a new hardship. Luc may have thought to spare his pride, but sadly shaken heads and averted eyes struck just as deep. As the monks tended to his wounds, Sid stared sullenly at the stone floor and contemplated this man, Luc Kraus. He was mighty in his own respect, but of what opinion was he to be labeled? Hated and cursed enemy or grudgingly respected idol? These were hard questions, but Sid had time to mull over them later. For the moment, relief was setting in at having allayed such a horrible death.

It had been a fear since he’d been a young child, drowning. It was hard to imagine a more horrible way to die. Drowning combined the agony of suffocating, the violence of choking, and a strange primal terror into one traumatic package. Of all the other possibilities, only being roasted slowly in the manner meat is cooked on a spindle and being eaten alive approached this, but drowning still won out with a wide margin.

Fully healed, Sid moved through the shadows of the lobby, careful to avoid meeting his martial better. He would retreat to the local inn and there lose himself in any and all vices available.

[Letho]

General Notes: First off, I sincerely apologize to both of you for the time it took me to judge this. However, once I sat to read and judge it, I have to admit that I was rather pleasantly surprised. I started reading, expecting a rather one-sided battle not only in the IC aspect of the battle. This prejudice – and my lack of familiarity with Sid’s writing – proved to be rather wrong. I can honestly say that now, as I write this foreword to the rubric, I can’t tell which way this thing will go. Let us find out together. Cyrus’s scores are BLUE and Sid’s are RED.


CONTINUITY – 7:6

Continuity is often the first thing where most Citadel battles fail to impress, mostly because of the lack of creativity and reasons. I can’t say I was overly thrilled with your intros, but I can’t say that there was something wrong with them either. Now, I’m not trying to promote the story-heavy, long-winded, planned battles, but they do often have that additional explanation that lacked here. Simply put, this was a battle between two random opponents and little else. I gave Cyrus a slight advantage here because his character entered with a desire to further stabilize his control over his magic, and he tried to do just that during the battle.

SETTING – 6:6

Simple and clear, that’s the best way I can explain it. There was nothing too outstanding about it, but then again, not every battle has to be fought on a bunch of floating stone tiles over a live volcano during a hurricane or whatnot. I did have a feeling, however, that at one point somewhere in the middle of the battle you two forgot that you were standing in/above water, so the actions became a bit unclear. Also, I found some descriptions rater weird, like “dirt” at the bottom of the lakebed. Wouldn’t it make more sense if it was mud beneath Sid’s feet? And when you pressurize somebody with wind, wouldn’t the pliable water around him be pressurized as well, thus moving out of the way? Details, my friends, details get you nines and tens.

PACING – 7:6,5

Pacing in a battle is a difficult thing to score separately, mostly because both writers create it. This thing went fast on a steep curve, as expected between a superior and an inferior character, and there is little that needs to be said about it. I was a bit surprised with the ending. Luc seemed to be a cocky, arrogant bastard that didn’t give two shits about anybody. After reading about him raping people and murdering people, I found it rather strange that he let Sid live at the end. And speaking of the end, this was where the only serious flaw in the pacing occurred. Sid, in your last post, you returned to the arena even though Cryus took you both out in his post. Try not to do that. If your character has some thoughts about what happened, do it in retrospective narration.

DIALOGUE – 7,5:7,5

There was not much of it and in this case, that’s a good thing. Any more palavering then what you two did, and it would break not only the pacing, but the believability of the characters. What was said, however, fitted the character almost like a glove. But like gloves, even if they fit, there is always room for improvement. The intro chat with the monk from Sid and the conclusion from Cyrus are the places where you two can improve; the former was a bit too longish, and the latter too short and unexplained.

ACTION – 6:6

I first thought that Cyrus should have an obvious advantage here because he interacted with the setting multiple times, but then I looked over the whole thing again. And then it became clear to me that he did interact more because his character depends heavily on interaction with the environment, and thus he has more options to begin with. Sid, on the other hand, had limited options and he used them rather well. The difference in approach was visible, and it was refreshing, Luc being all-mighty and cocky and Sid pumping some drugs into his system as a last ditch effort. Though, there were two things that stood out, and not in a good way. Why would Sid run headlong through the flames when he could dove under them and then leap out and try to cut Luc’s feet? And why in the world did Luc fling that poor monk at the end? I believe you have an explanation, but it was nowhere to be seen.

PERSONA – 6,5:6

Most of the persona was conveyed through dialogue, and since there wasn’t much of it, there wasn’t much chance to present your characters. There was some trace of it at the beginning and the end, but in the middle it was more or less a straightforward battle. Not completely a bad thing, but it would be nice to see some glimpses in their actions as well. I’m giving Luc a slight advantage because his character imposed itself more with his arrogance.

MECHANICS – 7:7,5

I won’t waste much words on this mostly because there was very little wrong with it. Half a point extra goes to Sid because, unlike with Cyrus, there were no occasional typos that I noticed. It’s only half a point, though, because here and there you get a bit crazy with commas.

TECHNIQUE – 7:5

I remember judging several of your quests/battles, Cyrus, and I remember saying that you should try to do something “extra” in your quests every time. I can finally say that this time, you actually did that. It wasn’t a complete revision of your writing style – nor does your writing style actually need a revision – but there glimpses in form of similes and occasional metaphors certainly add more flavor to your writing. Sid, who also has a solid technique, failed to impress with these occasional tidbits that would enrich his writing. But there’s also nothing wrong with his technique and I’m certain that with time it would only become better.

CLARITY – 7:7

Very good on both sides. You two actually have rather similar writing styles, with generally shorter paragraphs that help with making the whole thing easier to read.

WILD CARD – 6:7

I had to give the advantage to Sid here. Taking on one of the most powerful characters on Althanas, even in the Citadel, is a feat worth of praise.





TOTAL SCORE – 67:64,5


Cyrus the Virus is victorious!!!
Congratulations to you both!



SPOILS:
Cyrus the Virus get 2500 EXP, 100 GP and his name in the Citadel’s black book for flinging one of the monks across the room. Maybe he’s in for a surprise next time he’s in the Citadel.

Sid gets 650 EXP, 100 GP and one jar of barbecue sauce from one of the cannibal warriors that just happened to watch his battle in the Citadel and thought he looked rather edible once he went through the fire.



EXP/GP added!