016573 vs. Mutant_Lorenor: Blood and Thunder

[Breaker]

The darkness pressed in, kept back by two stout candles.

The storm raged like no other, vast, a tidal wave descending from the heavens. Driven; featureless; onerous; lacking pause except for the bone-chilling, split second silences which demonstrated a change in the wind. A virtual deluge of raindrops spattered down on my arena, drenching or obliterating everything not protected. Inside, I was warm and dry. The candlelight was barely enough to read by.

I waited patiently, not nervous, not casual. A leather-bound book rested on my lap like a friendly cat. It was shut tight. The text was an extremely boring journal written by a master Martial Artist from the Age of the Dawn. He had detailed many striking techniques, as well as vital points to aim for and which part of the body to use. Unfortunately, his grammatical sense was as bad as his descriptive writing, and I found it difficult, frustrating even, just getting through a few pages.

Placing the book on the small round coffee table before me, I rose, my hand clamping around the hilt of the sword which had been leaning against my recliner. I paced to the centre of the arena and sat cross-legged, the sword resting across my knees. It was a simple iron ninjato, similar to a traditional Japanese katana except for having a straight blade. I liked the weapon, and had been practicing with it a little the past few days. Apparently my challenger was something of a swordsman. It would be an interesting affair for me to try to beat a blade wielder at his own game. I thought back to the slip of paper I had received two days earlier. It had read; "Next Challenger; John Mattis. Two days time, midnight." It was intriguing how little information the Dajas Pagoda organizers gave me about each battle. Intriguing, but not bothersome. Improvisation made excellent training.

I sat for some time, staring at the door, lulled by the sound of the rain pounding down. It made a blotchy, thocking sound on the high domed glass roof. Looking up, I could only see the black iron grid work of bars when there was a flash of lightning. Otherwise, it was too dark to see much. Thunder rolled again, and I returned my attention to the door.

Without really noticing, I had begun to meditate. Meditation was something new to me, which I had begun practicing while spending large amounts of time alone, training in my arena. Through rigorous workouts both on my body and my fighting technique, followed by periods of meditation, I had grown to know the arena very well. Not that there was much to know. I focused my eyes on the dial on the door, allowing my mind to drift back.

It was a little over a month since I had accepted the position as a warrior in the Dajas Pagoda. Despite that, tonight would be only my second battle. I remembered my tiresome defeat of the wizard Xos Xilanthes. After him and his invisible barriers and weapon-conjuring spells, dueling a swordsman would be a cakewalk. I allowed my mind to relax, tuning itself to the steady, even sound of my breathing. Staring straight ahead, I became one with the arena, one with the storm outside. Despite the warm, calm air within, I could practically feel the storm, buffeting winds and raindrops like tiny aqua arrows, lightening giving vision a split-second photograph before the mind numbing, roaring thunder which came just behind it.

With my hands rested on the flat of my sword blade, I watched the door, and waited.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

****Prologue****



John Mattis had a great day. Earlier in the week he'd gotten with his long time sweetheart from the university for the first time. They'd been together for a few years now and that was the first time the thing had happened. Also, he acquired a small fortune on a recent Adventure being somewhat of an aspiring Adventurer himself. His friends called him brave. He always said that he was just extraordinarily lucky. Kissing his girlfriend on the forehead as her bosom rose and fell underneath the covers, John left the bed and went to clean himself. It was almost battle-time. His friends admired his courage, he didn't he was deftly scared of fighting the warrior from the Dajas Pagoda. All of them were extremely experience, far more than he. Still though, he'd seen other warriors attempt to apply for training and that's what he wanted. More training right? He went over to the cleaning area and did his routine. Feeling anxiety well up in his stomach like a stalking demon, the boy heard the rain outside of his house. With his considerable fortune, he purchased for himself a lot of land and a small house for himself and his wife to be.

He'd proposed earlier that day. It was a great scene too. They stood at one of the bars in the Peaceful Promenade often frequented by many guests. The bar stood near a famous smith-shop called the Sleepy Willow. That's where John Mattis got his sword from. They'd prepared it for him a few years ago when he was still very young. That was some of his family money doing odd jobs around the house and for neighbors. The young Adventurer stood approximately six feet in height and weighed roughly 170lbs. He was well built and kept himself in great shape. Outside of the house was a small, makeshift, training center he'd put up to keep his emerging sword-play skills sharp. The boy had tightly cropped wild hair, auburn colored, fair skin, and brown eyes. Over-all he appeared like a typical youth of the Scara Brae region and Althanas in general. The humans being of a particularly sturdy crop after all. Kissing his fiance on the forehead one more time he prepared himself for his journey to the Dajas Pagoda. It was only an hour's ride. The storm might make it two hours. He checked the time and saw that it was 9:00 PM. Perfect timing. The youth went outside into the rain with his hood and cloak wrapped tightly about his person.

Little knowing that fate had other plans for him that night.

**************************************************

Storms always calmed the boy down. After a recent kill of some beast from the Liviol Sanctum, a grazing beast, the boy felt like wandering aimlessly around for a while. He found himself standing near an establishment known as the Dajas Pagoda. Looking up at the grand structure he remembered hearing some locals in the Gol'Bron's territory talking about some battles going on in the Dajas Pagoda. It was a very different establishment than The Citadel in Radasanth. The boy could challenge warriors of incredible power level in one of their own custom-built arenas. Even in this late hour, the boy saw several people from his stalking position, moving in and out of the Dajas Pagoda at all times. In particular, one arena caught his eye. In particular, was the warrior that resided within that arena. The boy knew that challenging such a warrior would prove an adequate test of strength. But moving towards the battle listings a while earlier revealed that the warrior was already challenged by someone named John Mattis.

Pitty. The boy definitely had to intervene and change things. In the distance, he heard a horse approaching and saw a single warrior keeping his eyes fixed on the Dajas. The boy suddenly leapt out of his hiding place spooking the rider's horse. The great beast moved on his hind-legs going immediately out of control. The boy latched upon the riding horse quickly and sank his mighty jaws into the beast's neck keeping his hateful eyes upon the boy he assumed was John Mattis. With the horse falling to the ground, the rider was knocked off his horse with the wind knocked out of his lungs. Finishing his quick meal, the boy closed his lower jaws quickly and moved to the other youth. He attempted to place his foot on his chest to hold him down. A streak of lightning revealed to John Mattis the monster of the darkness that stalked him now. The youth screamed in terror at such a phantasmal creature of nightmares. The boy felt his foot go up against the lad's chest and hold him in place. Kneeling down against him, the boy extended his claws and placed them carefully against the youth's adam's apple.

"Listen to me very carefully. Nod to my questions. You are not allowed to speak. Are you John Mattis?" The boy asked of his hostage. When he nodded the devil smiled.

[Breaker]

The storm raged on, but no warrior arrived.

Wrapped in the nothingness of meditation, I felt alive as the winds. My eyes blinked infrequently, recording everything in the brief flashes of light, becoming blazed when covered by the pressing dark. I was almost certain I could make out the individual branches of every nearby tree. I had never taken meditation this far before, and was a little bit scared. The fear was irrelevant though-- it drifted away from my mind, pushed out by the quiet neutrality. I was ready for anything.

Nothing happened. For at least thirty minutes I listened to the howling wind and driven rain, feeling my pupils dilate as each flash of lightning ended. I was prepared for anything, and that included extreme patience. I was however, a little worried. Positive that midnight had passed some time before, my mind nagged for the well being of John Mattis. Without really caring, I realized that someone in my position should be concerned. I was, after all, supposed to be a teacher.

"With this weather, I wouldn't be surprised if the Bastard drowned trying to lug his armor around."

The thought was there, and then gone, swept down a peaceful river in my head. The harsh language surprised me, and I realized that, outside the void, I was impatient. My muscles were half-flexing at odd intervals, staying awake and ready, but tiring me out little by little. I got to my feet, drifted through open air to the door, and spun the dial. Left, then right, repeat until each number had been selected. With an easy click the door opened, and the night rushed in.

Rain lashed my face, but before I could register the drops both candles had been extinguished. The wind eddied about, disturbing some loose pages on the bookshelf. I opened myself to my full physical power, feeling my muscles become harder, denser. Immediately my skin began emitting an eerie golden glow, the odd side-affect of my superhuman talent.

Already my light cotton clothing was drenched, but I stood like a sculpture in the doorway, staring down the road. The storm drowned my senses, yet still I felt aware of everything nearby. I was ready, and waiting.

Due to the fierceness of the wind and rain, it would be understandable for a traveler to lose their way. I hoped that, if he was nearby, Mattis might spot my glowing skin and make his way to the arena. It was, I reasoned, the only thing I could do. Going out to look for him would be more counterproductive than anything else. I was not much of a woodsman, and outside of the clearing which surrounded my building, dense forest stretched in three directions. My reasoning was cold, logical. It formed, completed, and vanished without afterthought or guilt. I felt an urge to smile, but ignored it. I liked this new state of mind.

Lightning struck. Fifty yards from the arena was a tall iron lightning rod, its peak stretching higher than the building. Blue and yellow crackling power fused with the iron then vanished. Was it my imagination, or did the ground shudder? It didn't matter. I gripped the ninjato in both hands, the flat of the blade resting on my right shoulder. There was no sign of Mattis. I squinted into the rain, and waited.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Painfully slow, the boy endured the process. A sharp movement directed a command at the lad now playing the role of prisoner. The boy no longer needed to speak. Having obtained full control of the situation, Lorenor placed his claw directly at the adam's apple of his hostage. A cruel smirk upon the cold visage of his face. Althanas had many heroes entering the Dajas Pagoda, but tonight, one of its terrors ghosted his way there. For every light there must be an equal and powerful shadow. His prisoner didn't bother struggling anymore either. A short confrontation ended the matter of struggling rather disappointingly quick.

Every now and again the prisoner muttered something about missing his family, his fiancee. The boy quickly silenced these protests showing the lad who was in charge of the situation.

An easy approach to the Dajas Pagoda took the boy through one of many intertwining back-passageways. A small form in the distance, the figures became larger steadily as the boy approached with his hostage. Never before had someone attempted to ransack the Dajas Pagoda. The boy entered uncharted territory with this latest scheme. Writing his destiny with every step forward. I can still drop this whole mad scheme. The boy thought to himself seeing something far off in front of him. A brilliantly glowing light shone off with auric residue in the distance. Just beyond sight, vaguely visible.

The storm made matters more complicated. As he approached a thunderbolt struck an iron rod somewhere overhead. Rumbling earth beneath his feet, the boy paused for a moment. With Mattis' finely crafted sword in his possession, the boy had a suitable weapon for his scheme. With The Endless guiding him, the boy knew what might start off as a simple scam job might end up turning into a revolution.

With Corone's bid to turn into an Empire desperate acts needed to take place in order for progress forward. The boy reasoned that if someone held the Dajas Pagoda in their hands, they could bring the Corone Empire to its knees and make any demands that they wanted. First though, the perpetrator might need to defeat one of the Dajas Pagoda Warriors and use them as a hostage. A hostage for a hostage. Upon approaching the glowing light in the distance, the boy realized that a person commanded that eerie blaze.

Drawing his newly stolen Plynt long-sword, the boy kept his hostage at bay having a name and a description of the Warrior. The boy had an edge over his would-be combatant now. With rain drenching down across Althanas the storm seemed to herald the trial about to unfold. Wearing that same smirk upon his face, the boy approached Joshua within half a yard facing his enemy to be. The small warrior scowled now, a flash of lighting revealed his drawn weapon, the hostage moaned in terror. The boy held his hostage in a firm undead grip observing the martial artist carefully. For a moment, the boy feared the glowing energy bursting out of the other's body. Once he approached and felt no immediate threat from the energy the boy allowed himself a sigh of relief.

The Endless sang songs of deceit. Championing his cause, the boy called out above the rain and the storm.

"I know your name. I have your would-be apprentice in my possession now. I am armed and you should consider me very dangerous." The boy yelled over the rain matter-of-factly. "You have two options. You can either come out here and face me, or I will hunt you down and face you. But rest assured, with your defeat the Dajas Pagoda will be under my control and I intend to use this as a bargaining chip against your precious Corone Empire. I am a Terrorist, make no mistake of that."

[Breaker]

The void had kept me separated from emotion, but now it shattered, torn apart by a single word.

"Terrorist."

Before the unstable portal had left me stranded on Althanas, I had worked as a Special Agent for an underground government organization. Much of my work had been in counter-terrorism. It was a nightmare; rebellious groups could spring up anywhere across the country, each with its own agenda, its own misconstrued goals, but sharing one vital trait; bloodthirstiness. One did not become a terrorist through respect for life. I felt blood pound in my temples, matching the battering rain in a deadly tempo. With the meditation gone, I could truly feel each driven, frigid drop lashing my skin, each driving an urgent message home.

"Save the lad."
"Get the sword away from him."
"Deliver the bastard to the authorities."
"No... kill him."
"Kill him."
"KILL HIM!"

I fought to keep my face smooth, emotionless, but fiery hate blazed from my eyes, so strong I was surprised the raindrops nearby did not evaporate. My hands slid on the handle of my sword, tightening fiercely with crushing power. The iron of the weapon held, and so must I. "Be strong." I told myself... "You must beat him. Beat him."

Digesting the information the vampire had delivered, I came to several conclusions. The first was that he was inexperienced; no knowledgeable terrorist revealed their plans to an enemy. "Unless he was lying." My training reminded me. One could never be certain with his type.

The second thing I knew was that the vampire fully intended to overcome me, and either kill me or take me prisoner. Even if he was foolish enough to reveal his plan, he would not do so to a person he thought would walk free the next day. Again my hands tightened on the sword hilt. It was time to begin.

I ignored John Mattis completely. My eyes, like two chips of flint, were only for the vampire. I did not think he would kill the hostage, for then he had lost his bartering chip. If he thought the man's death would frighten me, he was sorely mistaken.

"You've already hunted me down it seems, vermin. I've no fear of facing you, or the rest of your misled assembly. But the weather being what it is, he should conduct our business indoors. Come in, and close the door behind you."

My tone was formal, polite, but strong as the rushing wind and deadly as the lightning high above. I turned on my heel and began walking back into the arena, intent on re-lighting the candles. My ears strained, listening for the sound of footsteps. If the vampire approached at anything faster than a walk, I would know his intentions, and turn once more to meet him in a battle to the death. Every bit of me hoped he would attack. For doing so would leave John Mattis free to escape, and give me the chance to rid Althanas of another lost cause.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

A few nights earlier--

In his travels through Underwood, after long and intensive training session with the Monks of Ai'bron, the boy felt ready to make a big move. Corone rapidly shifted from a Democracy towards an Empire. Lorenor really didn't care much about the change itself, but he cared about the loss of life that has already ensued. Thoughts of the Gisela Massacre lurked in his brain and somewhere in his black heart, the mutant felt compassion towards the needless loss of life. By essence, the predator leeched off the living developed a sort of compassionate bonding to the living. A deep respect for life lurked within the foul creatures' heart.

Traveling through Underwood, the boy met a woodsman. The woodsman later revealed his identity as a Corone Ranger. Many of the remaining Corone Rangers not executed by the Corone Empires' military wing known as the Knights of Dawn, The inquisition, fled to the safety of Underwood. The man told Lorenor of a small force of the Inquisition making its way to start trouble in Scara Brae and Underwood itself. This situation needed something extreme in order to prevent another Gisela Massacre.

Talking with the Corone Ranger, the boy considered using locale structures against the Corone Empire. The biggest structure he might use as a bargaining chip to prevent another razing seemed to be the Dajas Pagoda itself. But the tactics needed to be smooth, they needed cleverness. The boy thanked the Corone Ranger for his intelligence, paid some recently acquired gold, and left the sanctuary of the Rangers' small home in the wilderness.

******************************************

Lorenor eyed the warrior for a moment. The man clearly underestimated the seriousness of this matter that now fell before them. The boy took his weapon and made a quick attempt to hit John in the back of the head with the pommel of his own sword. The boy heard a muffled cry hoping for the best-case scenario which meant John might suffer a concussion and stay knocked out for several hours, maybe even days. A soft, muffled blow filled the night for a moment. A streak of lightning lighting up the sky at the same time making the whole movement look strange. The boy fell down, already bound by Lorenor's make-shift bindings. He fell face first into the mud. The boy didn't want his hostage to suffocate, so he turned him face up offering him at least that benefit.

Using one arm, the boy reached down and grabbed John's shirt not wanting to get rid of his ace-in-the-hole. Taking him indoors seemed like the best solution to avoiding the rain. He noticed the structure seemed made of glass which might become an advantage to him. If the glass might somehow transform into a weapon. The boy dragged his victim through the mud and looked back once seeing a nasty welt already developing on the side of the youth's head. This put a smile on the terrorists' face. He knew that what he did contradicted the Gol'bron's ethics, but it didn't contradict N'Jal's ethics at all. The Endless sang songs of praise.

Lorenor followed Joshua into the structure. His person already covered with rain, drenched in it, making his leather outfit feel a little heavier. But somehow, he was grateful for the recently acquired leather. It protected him much more effectively from the rain. His glowing purple eyes were the only tell-tale. Though Lorenor knew he had an attack of opportunity at the martial artists' back, the boy didn't take it. Instead he needed to secure his hostage first and carefully think about each move before he made it. It seemed clear that his opponent had hate in his heart--this was something he might use to his advantage. The boy dragged John over to a corner far away from Joshua and then prepared himself for the fight. With his weapon draw, he skillfully rotated the blade in one hand and then pointed it at Joshua.

"Now then, we can begin." The boy declared. His hideous face scarred and looking like a corpse stared right at Joshua.

[Breaker]

With my back to Lorenor, I struck a match and re-lit both candles. They sputtered to life, yellow wax glowing in silent mockery of my luminescent skin. My mind raced; as a hierarch I felt somewhat responsible for the well-being of my challengers. I stole a glance over my shoulder at John Mattis, now slumped unconscious in one of the octagonal room's many corners. The vampire looked to be shaping up for a battle. I picked up the book which I had left on my recliner, replacing it carefully on the shelf, to give myself time to think. My mind flashed to the weapons decorating two of the arena's walls; Lorenor seemed comfortable enough with his sword, I doubted he would make a move or any of the inferior iron armaments.

I turned and made my way onto the mats which covered the centre of the room. Lorenor's blade pointed like an arrow towards my heart, as though the mere positioning might win him the battle. Seeing the vile expression on his decomposing face made me want to race across the mats and behead him, but I held my position, balanced on the balls of my feet, holding the straight ninjato vertical in both hands to the right of my torso. My back bent slightly, I flexed the powerful muscles throughout my body, feeling them loosen up, ready for action. Water ran from my clothes and hair, pooling in the mats where my feet made shallow depressions. I was ready.

My mind was a turmoil of anger and furious thought. I was enraged at the terrorist for his evil actions, but the full extent of my anger reached beyond him. As strange as it may seem, I had taken the position as Pagoda Warrior to relax. After years of work as a Special Agent, and months of fighting for survival on a foreign planet, getting paid to do what I did best seemed entirely ideal. It was not my job to deal with terrorists and criminals anymore, yet one had forced me to deal with him. Again, the hatred circled back to Lorenor. Rage boiled, but I held it carefully, using the adrenaline but keeping my emotions in check. I needed to be cool and calculative as always, now more than ever, for this was no training battle; it was a duel to the death.

The vampire had brought the fight to me; he had instigated the action, forced me to duel him by threatening a paying student. For that, I would let him make the first move. I stood steady as a marble statue, my breath coming evenly, calmly, but still my eyes glared hatred. It took a conscious effort to keep my arms loose, for they wanted to tighten up, to ball my hands into fists. With a will I kept my fingers relaxed on the hilt. Lightning flashed, and I waited for the inevitable thunder to subside before speaking.

"Begin then, creature. I haven't got time to waste on your fairytale antics. Show me what the scum of Althanas are made of."

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The glass structure loomed like an ominous prison overhead. Again, the boy thought of how he might use the glass-dojo to his advantage. A veritable weapon of broken glass lurked all around them, placed there at the whims of the foolish Pagoda warrior. The boy considered the howling wind outside before making his move. He eyed the weapon racks all around him and pondered stealing some items at the expense of the Pagoda warrior. Still though, noticing that the quality of everything reminded him of Iron, he figured no profit might come from such a theft.

The boy rotated his sword once more. Still noticing the hatred swirling in the eyes of the warrior. He admired such a thing. Lorenor knew he was manipulating the feelings of his opponents by his cruel actions. The Inquisition should be upon us soon. Looking off into the night outside of the glass building for a moment, the boy sighed for a moment. His visage then went back to the other warrior. Is that the best taunting you can do when your life is on the line?

Trails of water flowed off from the boy's person as well. He moved with a splish-splosh sound as his boots squeaked out water. Mud also splattered across Joshua's floor. The boy looked down at the mess he was leaving behind and somehow appreciated the humor in the situation. Walking over to the fighting mat, the boy prepared himself to duel to the death. He knew that regardless of what happened, the boy seemed like the last best hope to prevent Underwood from getting razed. So the boy wore a smile on his face now, deliberately attempting to destroy the confidence in the man.

Despite the palpable hatred coming from my enemy, I'll keep on smiling at the bastard, making him think twice about the situation. Despite the fact that Joshua taunted, the boy decided to ignore it. The boy felt more intent on handing him his own ass back to him. Standing approximately five paces directly in front of the other warrior, the boy took up his stolen weapon. The thing finely crafted from Plynt, showed off all its master-work crafting. The boy responded by putting the sword up in a horizontal position to match his opponent's vertical stance.

Using his left axial plane to balance himself out. His legs partially spread with his left leg facing forward, balancing his body out. The corpse had no need to stretch. A sneer lurked upon the horrible warrior's face. With the tip of the blade pointed at his opponent, the boy stared right into bastard's eyes. His own government will fail him--think about how perfect a night this will be. A perfect night for blood-shed in the name of N'Jal. The Knights of Dawn will come and war will be upon us all. The boy thought to himself and The Endless, a living second skin, wrapped itself around the boy's person protecting him in a black sheet. His purple eyes shown beneath that terrible black mask. As he stared, he waited for his foe to make the first move, letting time move on.

[Breaker]

The trap was set, the bait taken, and I sprung the catch with fierce determination.

My left hand shot to into the pocket of my pants, clicking a button on the small remote contained there. The noise of grinding gears filled the arena as all around Lorenor and I a chain link fence rose-- an octagon of metal weave work surrounding the mats, trapping the two of us together in single combat. John Mattis would be safe, for the time. If the vampire overcame me, he could escape the cage, and get to his prisoner... but that would not happen. Determination burned in my heart, the fire spreading as adrenaline poured through my veins, giving new life to every part of my body. I was electric; I was like the storm. Insurmountable and all consuming. I would consume the vampire, and all that remained would be the corpse of a corpse. The glow from my skin spread to both eyes, giving them a manic glow of deadly intent. Left hand back on the sword hilt, without a word, I charged.

Flowing forwards, my sodden feet whispered across the mats, carrying me swiftly to my target. The ninjato stayed in its ready position until the last moment, and as I closed in on my enemy, it struck like chain lightning, swinging in a swift arc at the vampire's neck. Not a beheading stroke; it blazed on a downward diagonal, the tip of the blade on a collision course with the soft tissue where neck met shoulder. My eyes, my face, my entire body showed the rage, the anger which drove the attack.

Only... it didn't.

The anger was a ruse. The emotion itself very real, but beneath my rage I was thinking clearly, and had planned the attack accordingly. I had channeled the anger, making sure that Lorenor would see it-- he would have to be blind to miss the obvious body language, the tormented eyes, the contorted face. Adrenaline flowed in my veins, but hot blood was cooled by the ice water which also resided there. I was the calm of the change in the wind; unpredictable, unknown, and most of all extremely deadly.

It was a textbook downward slash, right to left and top to bottom, my right foot stepping forward to add power. But before the sword was halfway through its arc, I was drawing the hilt in to me, rather than extending it outwards, and as my right foot splashed down on the mat, my blade shot out, a straight thrust aimed for the vile one's heart.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

And so the battle began. The boy thought it a strange thing really. He'd fought the Warrior Monks of Ai'bron for so long now that his killer instincts became second nature. They drove him into becoming the basics of a living weapon, like the legendary Ithermoss himself. If Joshua with all his mortality moved fluidly, the dead one moved with all the grace the dead could provide. The boy saw the attack coming miles away. In his advanced stage of insanity his opponent had a slow, far-away look. He saw the whole movement telegraphed very slowly in his broken mind.

With his eyes closing, the boy listened to his sensory array. An advanced way of interacting with the world lurked in an invisible web around the boy. Once Joshua touched the outskirts of his field, the boy moved. He side-stepped off to the left in a quick-stepping movement off the balls of his feet. He skipped moving with his left leg first, following by his right. The movement perfectly timed, skillful.

At the apex of his movement, the boy swung out with his sword to counter attack the other warrior. Noticing the slight down-ward tilt from the original attack with his senses more than anything else, the boy reacted powerfully with his enhanced training. He rotated his weapon underneath the warrior's ninjato attempting to connect the two like lovers. If successful, his counter-attack might throw his opponent off balance.

Lorenor attempted to keep the battle reactive. Reaction for every action that this warrior threw at him. Prepared for this battle thanks to his harsh training, the boy remembered every bruise and every injury he suffered at the hands of the Monks of Ai'bron. He would make sure that the only injuries he suffered this night were ones that he allowed to land. The Endless guided Lorenor hand in the battle in an assisting way to ensure that the mark underneath his opponent's blade was landed. The small warrior opened his eyes anew to see the chaos that would erupt after his counter attack.

His movement was crisp and flowed like water to counter-act the electric movement of the one who imitated the chain lightning in physical form. His opponent's residue of ethereal energy crackled the air. Again, that worry touched the small warrior's gut. When Joshua touched his sensory grid however, the boy felt no pain from the natural chi. It wasn't holy energy so the boy needn't worry about its power. He waited to see if the tell-tale clang of swords might occur.

[Breaker]

Undead though he was, the vampire moved like a snake, smooth and confident. He flowed aside, avoiding my blade thrust like child's play. His counter was crisp; the mark of a well trained swordsman. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, drowning out the metallic clang of plynt on iron. The soundlessness of the swords meeting gave an eerie feel to the moment, as if he were fighting underwater. My ears cried out that there should have been a noise accompanying the jarring contact, but all I could hear was the deafening thunderclap.

Without thinking I moved from one attack to the next, hours of training my body paid off in full. My weight was on my right foot, momentum traveling forward, and the boy's tough counter swept the ninjato aside easily. I let it happen, hoping that he would overcompensate a little, leaving his body open. I stepped forward onto my left foot and pivoted, spinning over my right shoulder. A quick half-turn later I was side on to the vampire, and my leg erupted upwards in a spin back sidekick, aimed for the enemy's solar plexus. The torque of my hips added power, and with my strength doubled the blow would be enough to knock him back a fair distance.

My hazel eyes locked into his purple ones as I delivered the kick, searching for something, anything-- an emotion or desire I could exploit, a telegraph of his next move-- anything. I had long since learned that watching an opponent's body was a good way to get faked out. The eyes told the truth.

Behind my own eyes, a fire raged, anger threatening to consume cool logic and reason. I fought the blaze, seeking the void of meditation but finding it slip away. I needed calm, and calm I was not. All the water of the storm outside could not have doused the flames; I knew the only way to extinguish my wrath was to spill the vampire's blood.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The surreal effect of the battle with the constant flashing of lightning outside made the boy feel the weight of his destiny. Moving in proximity now, the Agent moved exactly like the boy thought he would. A calculated risk, the boy used the apex of his training with the Monks of Ai'bron to release his own deadly surprise. He'd moved the ninjato aside giving himself a direct opening for the maneuver that he guessed might come next.

With a clever opponent like the boy currently fought, even more clever tactics were needed. The boy, having control of the previous attack maneuvered exactly in motion whilst Joshua attacked. The man sent out a powerful kick from the motion but the boy already moved. He sent his dangerous weapon down upon the top part of Joshua's leg. Right where the leg connected to the pelvis. The boy attempted to hack off the older man's leg in one fell swoop.

Suddenly he felt a devastating impact. A normal man's chest at the moment of impact, might be crushed under such skill and power. Being an Undead, the boy was used to pain. Though the wind fell from his ancient lungs. The boy found himself gasping for breath whilst he attacked Joshua's legs. Keeping himself focused on the task at hand, the boys' eyes revealed nothing. All they showed seemed like that damned purple glow.

Somehow, the darkness played off the boy's frail seeming body. Gasping, the boy used his experience to swivel his body just right, using Joshua's own momentum against him. The impact, repelled by The Endless to a degree (Since his organic armor absorbed most of the impact) still caused a serious bruise to manifest upon his chest. The Endless took most of the damage of the blow however, preventing it from becoming anymore serious. Continuing the downward chop, the boy hoped beyond hope that his weapon connected, potentially making his attack successful.

[Breaker]

I extended my leg fully, following through on the kick for maximum effect. I had taken similar damage in the past, and knew the symptoms he would be experiencing; shortness of breath, a seeming paralysis to the chest cavity, and most of all... pain. My mind commanded a blood lust I had never experienced before, exalting not in the success of my attack, but in the enemy's injury. Suddenly the gruesome satisfaction I was feeling cut off. The plynt broadsword was arcing downwards, a blow strong enough to sever my extended leg. I could not block the attack; my ninjato was out of play, held to the side of my body. Knowing it was too late, I allowed my left leg to collapse, rolling away from the deadly blade. Even as I escaped, pain seared through my leg. I tried to ignore it and rolled twice more before regaining my feet, two metres away from where I started.

As I stood pain flashed through my body again, like lightning in the sky. Except, the pain did not vanish a moment later. It stayed, throbbing horribly, threatening to cripple me. I spared a glance downward, checking the damage. It was a deep cut, just above my right knee. Blood seeped from the wound, mingling with the water and mud already coating my pants. I gritted my teeth and roughly shoved the pain to the back corner of my mind. I needed to end the battle quickly, and stop the bleeding before I passed out.

Trying not to limp and failing miserably, I squared up, ready to defend but favoring my wounded limb. The incision felt ice cold, numbing the surrounding area but still managing to hurt like hell. I could feel warmth beginning to seep into my sock. I was losing blood too quickly. "NO... positive. Think positive!" My mind screamed at me. Everything can be used as a tool in battle. Everything and anything.

For an instant my vision blurred, and in the space of a heartbeat I saw a memory from years earlier. I had been working undercover in the field, but with my cover blown, a drug runner had gotten the drop on me with a K-bar. A Y-shaped scar now decorated my cheek from that encounter. I was lucky the knife missed my eye. But I pretended at the time that he had blinded me, long enough to make the bastard drop his guard...

My vision cleared, and I drew a deep breath through my mouth, the gulping sound audible above the pounding rain. My sword wavered, the tip dropping several inches, and I gasped again, once more drawing air through my mouth. The sword dipped again, and I sank to my knees, my right hand going to the open wound. It came away dripping blood, and I braced myself on all fours, leaving a crimson handprint on the muddy mat. A third breath through my mouth, and this time there was a hint of a sob in the sound, a sob of pain, of defeat.

Hunkered down with my head bowed, I could only see Lorenor's feet, but that was all I would need to see.

"Come to me, vampire. I am wounded, dying, defenseless. See the blood, hear me gasping for air. COME TO ME!"

[Mutant_Lorenor]

But the cold-hearted bastard's thoughts drifted elsewhere. Blood spilled across the battlefield now and he'd put the man in a position to talk. In a state of delirium, his opponent might be more likely to listen. Lorenor stole a glance back at John Mattis, the hostage was still knocked out insofar as he could tell. The binds were intact even from this distance he could see it. He didn't even have to concentrate on such details. The boy worried about the chain-link fence but saw it was a material that the Plynt sword might easily hack through. Lorenor turned to face his fallen opponent.

Like an executioner, the boy slowly moved towards his target but suddenly stopped approximately five or six paces away. The boy stood directly in front of his prey. Still, murder wasn't on the young immortal's mind. Tonight, the Inquisition threatened to destroy Underwood and there might be tremendous loss of life--this was something Lorenor needed to prevent.

The boy knelt down before his opponent. He took some of the freshly warm blood on his fingertips, tracing it off the pools on the floor. The loss of blood really got to him that night. Its not that it bothered him PHYSICALLY per se, it's just the actual act of blood loss. ALL life was sacred to the boy, his life as a leech made him see everything in that single black and white way. He licked Joshua's blood off his fingertips taking with it some essence of the brave warrior.

Lorenor let his sword arm rest for a moment as he placed the weapon down safely next to his person. He wasn't tired but he wanted to show that he didn't mean Joshua harm at this point--he wanted to show that man that he had honor. Looking at the serious wound for a moment the boy could see Joshua's precious life blood sipping away with each passing moment.

For a long moment during the impromptu match, the boy thought that he was surely lost. Perhaps he over-estimated the general skill-level of this warrior now dying before him. He looked off to the distance and just a few miles out, he could vaguely see glowing-orbs of the Inquisition. The Endless served Lorenor well that night and protected him from a serious injury. He'd have to properly thank them with the Inquisition's blood later. Lorenor's sword was stained with Joshua's blood as was the floor all around.

He touched his chest once more. Pain from the powerful kick caused a burning bruise much more serious than previously thought. Lacerations from the powerful attack started to develop on the area of flesh but thankfully, his rib-cage and internal organs were all functioning normally. He still struggled for his breath but finally caught it after some time passed from the initial impact and now. His breathing was still labored however.

"Now we can talk. You are a brave warrior I will give you that but you're wrong about me." Came the very raspy small warrior's voice. "I'm no scum. I just defeated you. But we both have a higher calling tonight. There is a reason why I have chosen you Joshua Cronen. I've heard all about your bravery and cleverness. Your pure heart--something I confess that I lack. It is a tool that I need in order to defeat the enemy approach. Look in that direction. You will see their lamps." The boy pointed to the glow balls in the distance. They got closer every passing moment. "Its the inquisition and they are come to raze Underwood. Just like they attempted to raze Milax. Just like the Gisela Massacre. I don't have time to explain it all."

Then he spoke the words that would forever alter their lives.

"I need you to KILL me. You will need me as a bargaining chip when the Inquisition arrives. They will know who and what I am."

Lorenor slid his sword over to Joshua's person. "After I return from death you can give me my weapon back."

[Breaker]

I crouched on the mats, blood flowing from the wound in my leg, waiting for the vampire to attack. My arms and left leg still held their strength, more than enough power to bring down the undead terrorist. But he held his position.

"Attack, damn you!"

Still no attack came. I began to worry seriously about how much longer I could stay conscious. The vampire would not come to me, and I was considering rushing him when his weapon dropped to the mats. The gesture was good enough for me-- whatever the reason, it seemed the vampire did not wish to continue the fight. Panting from the pain, I rolled over and leaned my back against the chain link fence. With speed borne of desperation, my hands tore the lower leg of my ruined pants away, and knotted it tight above the wound. It wasn't tight enough. Again my left hand shot to my hip pocket, and with a minute click from the remote the cage slid back into the floor, as if it had never existed.

Biting back agony, I limped towards the east wall of my arena. Grabbing an oak tonfa at random, I snapped the handle from it and jammed it through the makeshift bandage, twisting the smooth wood several times to fashion a tourniquet. Pain screamed from my leg, twisting its way through every particle of my being, but the bleeding stopped. I snatched down the broken tonfa's twin and used it as a walking stick to aid me in stumbling back to my recliner. I collapsed in it, grateful for a chance to relax my battered body. From beneath the coffee table I produced my gore-tex backpack, and after a few seconds of searching found a large role of surgical tape. Again and again I wrapped the tough fibers around my injured thigh. The adhesive stung in the open cut, but it held the flaps of flesh together. I sighed in relief. It would hold until I could get the leg properly sewn.

I had been listening to the vampire as I worked, analyzing his words. Some of it offended me, other parts were simply confusing. In a less urgent moment, I might have debated the fact that he had "defeated" me. But this was not the time for such idle egoisms. I had heard of the Gisela Massacre. Milax, on the other hand, was a name which meant nothing to me. The intensity of the situation was far from lost one me, however. I knew the Inquisition to be a powerful army, one which Underwood would have little chance of defending against. I saw no reason not to believe the vampire; thinking me beaten, he had lain down his weapon. With an enormous effort I heaved myself from the chair and stood facing him, the two discarded swords between us like a peace offering.

"It's obvious you haven't got a pure heart if you thought it necessary to hack my leg off before talking to me. Godamnit, I would have listened to you in the first place, and we could have saved a lot of time."

I glanced out the window. Indeed, I could see numerous glowing balls of light, the source many lanterns, bouncing towards my arena. I shook my head. There was so much I did not understand of the little Lorenor had said. But he had no time to explain. There was only time for action; words would come later. I limped forward, meeting the vampire in the centre of the mats.

"This will have to look good to convince them. When they come through the door, act as if you're strangling me..."

My powerful, trained mind snapped out a plan of deception. It was simple, but simple plans always worked best. As I finished outlining the scheme, I glanced back towards the window. I could see the individual lanterns of the Inquisition, illuminating them like spooks in the night. "Any moment now..."

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The spooks moved closer to the cage-like combat arena now. Though the steel cage was gone now, a glass one lurked all about them. It reflected the Zeus' thunderbolts eerily. Casting a strange shine upon the battlefield. Terrorist were spotted in Underwood, identified by the Empire's Agents now entrenched within the locales. Informants handed the data to the Corone Empire's spies passing it along to its current leaders. In this fashion networks of information gatherers forged itself almost over-night.

With Knights of Dawn acting as the Inquisition, the orders came down the pipeline from Radasanth to raze Underwood. The project was supposed to go without a snag. Similar to the Gisela Massacre. The movement of a huge squadron of several hundred men took time, many months, to travel across the terrain of Corone. They marched from Radasanth all the way towards Underwood, a journey that might take a small unit a few days to complete. But a large squadron several weeks to complete.

That time has long since passed and the Inquisition faced a further snag; the wrath of the Thaynes before them. A thunderstorm barred their path but the Inquisition was armed with their power of Faith in the deities that they worshiped. Not necessarily the Thayne, but deities none-the-less. The Knights of Dawn had its own sects just like any large group did. These people were the militant wing of Radasanth. Lead by Lieutenant Commander James Light-Foot, the small army finally entered Scara Brae on the way to Underwood. There, they were ordered to make a pit-stop to refresh supplies at the Dajas Pagoda.

Little did they know a match was already underway in the facility. There were approximately three hundred units, all on horseback, under the control of L/C James Light-Foot. A stern and cruel man, James had long sandy blond hair that ended at his mid-section, stark blue eyes, a well defined forehead and jawline suggesting his pure-Coronian heritage. His mane crowned his head high upon his forehead. It flowed in the harsh wind and rain even underneath his helmet. All the warriors were fully armored to prevent them from getting wet, and thusly, sick. James wore a full plate augmented with the ore known as mithril.

Its color shined brightly whenever the lightning struck across the sky. There were many symbols and enchantments upon the warrior's armor. His horse was a mare with a brown coat. She had powerful legs and thighs with broad shoulders signifying her health and quality. James has his visor down, and a white cloak billowing in the wind. His shield was attached to his mount.

It hung from the saddle. The warrior lead his men, the recent razings and political witch-hunts stained the man's heart with darkness. Where once a proud man lurked, now hate slowly crept up in his eyes. Currently, rumors of terrorists in Underwood filled the mad-man's mind. Several of his best men surrounded him while they traveled at a steady trot. They didn't want to over-work the horses. Especially in the dangerous rain with all the mud about. The Knights of Dawn's spell-casters kept their craft up, casting spells to solidify the road ahead and create buffers against the rain.

A strange sheen of light surrounded the entire battalion. Somehow, less rain seemed to touch the soldiers underneath the sheens. The glowing balls which let the way for them were roughly five inches in circumference and floated by themselves following each individual unit. In all there were double the size of men in these glow-balls. They casted their archaic light upon the road before them creating a strange supernatural aura about the men.

James' scouts came back with the field reports. A taller slender man on horseback saluted and approached James' horse only after the leader of this wing of the Inquisition allowed it by hand signal. Once he approached, James raised helmets' visor up.

"Speak." James said.

"Sir we have a problem. The Pagoda is in use." The scout said after a stiff salute.

"At this hour!? Something must be going on, let's go investigate." James said.

************************************************** ****

Looking over his shoulder, Lorenor sighed. They got closer by the minute and knew that their fate might soon reveal itself. The boy listened carefully to what Joshua suggested and nodded. Needing to look good, the whole event depended upon convincing the Inquisition not to raze Underwood. A tall order, especially if they had enemies there. Lorenor turned his gaze from the glow-balls somehow, they got closer. This made the vampire very afraid of the next few moments. In a panic, he suddenly stared towards John Mattis, still knocked out in the corner. That gave the young immortal a false sense of security, but a feeling of security none-the-less.

In a sudden moment, the boy attacked Joshua like he suggested. It all has to look real, so make it real damn it! Lorenor thought to himself as he quickly lunged forward with both hands. He meant to strangle Joshua Cronen. Just then, the glass was kicked in and several soldiers entered the room. Lorenor heard this commotion, and attempted to choke out the warrior before him. As he did this, he felt a heavy impact through his leather cloak. An arrow pierced his right shoulder in a spot where it was once pierced by a half-ling named Jake Narmonalya. The boy's face flinched with agony but he focused on the task.

"HE'S ATTACKING A PAGODA WARRIOR, ITS HIM, THERE'S A HOSTAGE!"

In a single moment, everything went straight to Hell. The Inquisition had spotted their terrorist.

[Breaker]

((Bunnying approved by Lorenor.))

In my hand, I held the hilt of what had formerly been an iron ninjato. Six inches of blade extended from the guard and then-- nothing. I had managed to snap most of the weapon's length off, and conceal it behind a row of leather bound books on the shelves which lined the south wall of my arena. The plynt broadsword, its green metal looking odd stained by the crimson from my flesh, lay where Lorenor had left it. Everything was in place. The lights grew nearer and nearer, until suddenly the road outside seemed to be swimming with armored men on horseback. It was like watching ducks float in a pond; the men bobbed on and off of their mounts, yelling to each other, following orders.

Lorenor's fingers encircled my neck, the pallid dead flesh like moist sandpaper. I shuddered at the contact. Very few things could make me uncomfortable, but being at close quarters with a corpse was one of them. The fingers tightened and the muscles in my neck bunched powerfully, a natural instinct to protect my windpipe. I opened my mouth halfway, emitting gasping, choking sounds. I had choked out many opponents both in sport combat and real street fights, and new all to well what it sounded like. My knees began to shake as my face turned red, glowing with perspiration.

The door exploded.

With the sound of shattering timbers, both sides of the double doors smashed open, swinging loosely on their hinges. Almost simultaneously, glass rained inwards from all four windows, echoing silent screams in the night. Men in armor poured in, weapons drawn. My eyes snapped to Lorenor's face, and I made them bulge outwards, trying for all the world to look like some puffed-up cartoon character. There were shouts from all sides of the room, but one voice rang above the others, identifying Lorenor. The moment had come.

I struck, plunging the broken sword into the vampire's armor. It lodged there solidly, looking for all the world like a long dagger impaling the beast. Lorenor fell, clutching the offending weapon, and lay still on the floor. All around me movement ceased. It was hard, because I felt at least ten pairs of shrewd eyes on me, but I hunched forwards, hacking and coughing. Ten seconds later my throat felt like it had been flogged, but I had soundly convinced the Inquisition that I had, in fact, just been strangled. Wiping spittle unceremoniously from the corner of my mouth, I limped towards the leader, favoring my wounded limb.

James Light-Foot, thick helm under one arm, gave me a look that said he was sizing me up and down. Finally he asked what I was hoping he would.

"What's your business here tonight, sir?" His tone was formal, but threatening. I ignored him and addressed one of the shattered windows.
"Well, I work here. Most night, like tonight, I fight challengers of the Dajas Pagoda. I also live here a lot of the time. Now maybe I should ask you the same thing. What the hell are YOU doing here?" My voice was hoarse and edgy, the tone of an overworked, stressed out individual.

"We received word that a known terrorist was making his way to this arena, and--"
"Thanks for you concern," I cut him off, "But you're a little late. I managed to kill him, but not before he knocked out my godamn student." A careless hand gestured towards Mattis' prostrate form. Light-Foot tried to recover the upper hand, but I was having none of it. If he managed to take a dominant position in the conversation, all would be lost.

"We were sent to capture or kill the terror--"
"Well, great fucking job. Maybe in an hour or so you can come back to let me know it's raining. You should have noticed by then."
"Shut UP!"

We both fell silent. It was an odd moment; twenty or more knights in full armor stood around us, weapons drawn but held slack, water dripping from their metal bodysuits. The officer was having trouble getting his anger in check, so I filled in the gap in our conversation.

"Any of your men drown in those tin buckets you wear tonight?"
"I said shut UP!"

I grinned, tempted to cock an ear and say "Pardon?", but decided not to push my luck. Light-Foot's face was so red I thought his hair would start to steam. Finally, he managed to quell his rage.

"What happened here?" It was the question I had been dreading. I had a story, sure, but it was full of holes. The officer would need to spot only one to bring the whole thing crashing down on my head. Taking a deep breath, I told the fabricated history.

"That man over there, John Mattis, was my challenger for the night. Our battle was part way through when that creature burst in. He belted the boy a good one then came after me. As I'm guessing is the norm, you guys showed up late."

Surprisingly, he didn't tell me to shut up again. Instead he thought about my simple story before arriving at a new question.

"Where did that wound on your leg come from? It's been bound up, but it's obviously fresh."

My mind raced. Like playing pieces in "connect four" various elements of the evening fell into place creating a believable lie.

"Mattis hit me a good one. It was while I was taping it up that the vampire arrived."

Light-Foot muttered something about cheap green metal. I wondered how many officers of the Inquisition got paid to think in tiers like this moron.

"Why is John Mattis over there in the corner? Wouldn't he have been--"

I cut the officer off, the lies coming smooth and fast. I was on a roll.

"He panicked when he saw the beast, dropped his sword and ran for the window. Didn't make it, obviously. Too bad courage isn't something you can teach, eh Captain? Now... please take your men and get the hell out of my arena."

Most of the knights seemed glad to leave, and began filing towards the doorway. I intercepted Light-Foot before he could make a nasty retort.

"Look officer... I don't want any trouble. How about you get to tell everyone that you killed the terrorist, arriving in the nick of time to save ol' John Mattis over there. I'll say nothing to the contrary."

Immediately the knight's face lit up. This was clearly what he had been hoping for. The keen light in his eye faded as I continued.

"On two conditions. One, take Mattis with you. Get him home, and when he wakes up, feed him the story about how you saved his life. Two... stay away from Underwood. I've got friends there, and they want no part of your godamn Razings."
"We have orders to travel to Underwood and--"
"Scrap 'em."
"I cannot; we must"
"Look pal," I said. Quite suddenly, the arena was empty except for myself, Light-Foot, and the corpse on the floor. I stepped closer to the knight, for the first time looking him square in the eye.

"Not only will I claim responsibility for this very dangerous terrorists death, I'll tell the whole of Corone how useless you and your godamn Inquisition are. And if that's not enough for you... if you so much as set foot or hoof in Underwood, I will find you and bring down the wrath of Dajas Pagoda in its entirety, right on your head."

I could do nothing of the sort, of course. I hadn't even met any of the other hierarchs. But the threat had worked; I could see Light-Foot weighing the options and making the choice I had manipulated into him. He was too proud to admit it; instead he just turned and stomped out of the arena, tracking mud across the floor. The doors slammed behind him, dangling in a sickening manner. My arena was in need of some serious repairs and cleanup, as was I. All that could wait, however. I listened to the thick splashing noises of many men cantering away from the arena on horseback. Once their lanterns had disappeared, I stepped outside.

The rain was letting up slightly, and the thunder and lighting were a thing of the past. I limped in a quick circuit around the arena, pausing every few steps to listen. There was no sound but the gentle massage of rainfall on the battered muddy earth. Immensely relieved, I re-entered, closing the doors as best I could behind me.


"Oh-kay buddy... You can get up now. And you have some explaining to do."

[Mutant_Lorenor]

((My conclusion post--sorry for the delay.))

Everything went on around Lorenor as he was oblivious to the situation. When one had a sword jutting through their chest, one had a difficult time observing their surroundings. That was the case with the boy. The sword's pommel faced the ceiling as the ninjato pierced The Endless surrounding his person. A deliberate attack, Lorenor went with the whole act, playing possum.

It was an old trick really, one of the oldest tricks in the book. Lorenor fancied himself a trickster but this particular situation was so simplistic it made the young immortal sick to his stomach. Once James Light-Foot left the combat arena, purple energy erupted from within the vampire's empty eye sockets. He coughed loudly several times and slowly stood up.

The whole thing might seem disturbing. The corpse reanimating itself almost at will. Taking several deep breaths, the undead creature removed the ninjato from his person and tossed it aside with the rest of the mess on the floor. Lorenor felt sorry for whoever had to clean THAT mess up. Mud, dirty rain-water, and deep blood stains were all over the floor. Lorenor's black blood caked in with Joshua Cronen's.

Dripping with blood also, the broken ninjato clanked on the floor several times before skidding off to some corner. The words Joshua Cronen spoke barely registered in the boy's mind. He clutched at his wounded chest checking the severity of the injury. Joshua's weapon easily pierced through The Endless, but the living armor served to protect Lorenor from much of the force behind the attack. It acted as a buffer.

Joshua's words repeated themselves in his head again. He looked down and saw the bleeding injury on his chest and knew it would take several nights' resting to heal himself properly. He was far from the Gol'bron's territory but that meant little to him at this point. Another matter troubled the young immortal deeply, the temperature subtly rose even during the aftermath of the powerful rainstorm. Lighting cracked all around in succession, for a couple of minutes, and then several tremendous thunderbolts exploded. The boy was grateful that no internal organs were punctured in the sudden attack.

Standing up, Lorenor looked at Joshua with a sly expression on his face. He needed to get underground, and fast. With each passing moment the dawn came closer and the night-predator needed sanctuary. The Dajas Pagoda seemed like it had sub-basements that the undead creature might stay at during the day-light hours. He'd seem some hidden entrances on the way over to Joshua's arena.

"I don't know what you said to save Underwood but I am grateful. Those bastards been acting on their own without a check for far too long. I apologize in advance for having to use the tactics I resorted to but it wouldn't have worked any other way." Lorenor moved to his plynt sword, formerly John Mattis' weapon. He took the broadsword, rotated it skillfully in his hand and sheathed it. He looked at Joshua once more. "So sorry about the injury, but it had to look CONVINCING. I'm sure you know it couldn't have been pulled off any other way. Hey think of it this way, you pulled one on the INQUISITION fella. I admire that, you have potential and I hope we meet again under much lighter circumstances. Next time, drinks are on me." Clutching his chest and leaving with his weapon, the boy left the combat arena without another word making his way towards one of those many sub-basements and his sanctuary from the sun.

The End.

**********Spoils Request**************

001--John Mattis' Sword--A Plynt Masterwork Broadsword. It is approximately a two feet in length and built very light. The handle, guard, and pommel are all of masterwork quality. It is a very balanced weapon ideally suited for a swordsman. A dragon is engraved into the blade. It is a double-edged weapon. Cannot be sold. Comes with a black scabbard of Common Quality. Also Cannot be sold.

[Breaker]

I tried to listen to the vampire's short explanation, but the words jumbled themselves together in my ears. Exhausted, I staggered back to my recliner and sank gratefully into it. As the creature the creature left I waved a vague hand in attempt at a farewell, but halfway up the hand changed course and went to my head. I began massaging my temples, one with my middle finger and the other with my thumb, trying to circulate some of my remaining red cells into my brain. I felt incredibly weak. The tremendous loss of blood followed by the intense, nerve-wracking conversation with Light-Foot had made me a quivering mess. I groaned, reclining in my chair to elevate the injury as much as possible.

Normally, after a battle I made my way to Dajas Pagoda Headquarters for healing, if I needed it. I knew that if I didn't show up they would send someone though, and was prepared to wait. Whoever came would be in for a sight. The doors of my arena hung askew, while the interior looked as though a tornado had visited. Blood and mud congealed on the mats, while the hardwood floor looked like it had been flooded. Fragments of glass and several weapons fallen from the walls sat idly in the wetness, like tiny beached sea creatures. If there was one thing I was thankful for, it was that my bookshelf was untouched. The leather bound volumes which lined the shelves held precious knowledge, most of which I had not had time to learn.

Lying on the chair, I tried to construe some sense of just what the hell had happened. Events were coming to me quickly; the terrorist's arrival, only he had turned out to not be a terrorist. John Mattis, the concussed lad who had been an unfortunate bystander, and the hundreds of armed men who had come all the way to my lonely arena just to turn around and leave again.

"Later." I said out loud, not really realizing that I was vocalizing my thoughts, "You can figure it all out later. Right now you're practically... practisefully..."

My voice trailed off. For how long I stared out the glass dome of the arena I'll never know, but at some point, before it stopped raining, I had a dream. In the dream a young healer arrived, shocked by the horrors that had been brought upon my humble arena, asking me if I could hear him, checking my pulse, and nearly hyperventilating. I smiled. The dream was very real. The healer jabbed something into my arms, a needle, a hypodermic, and the dream began to fade.

"That's fine," I thought, "It was getting boring anyway."


Requesting the Warrior's Rewards EXP Modifier after 1 win.
Hopefully that was the right thing to say.
I'm new at this.

[AdventWings]

Incoming!

The scoring layout is 016573/Mutant_Lorenor

Story

Continuity - 6/6

Both of you had a reason to be in the Pagoda, both had a story to tell and both got something out of the encounter. Good job. I could definitely use some more creative options about how it played out, but doing so might require a complete revamp of the scenario. Next time, then.

Setting - 7/6

Here, 016573 did quite a good job of keeping a consistent and visualized environment, from the effects of the downpour to the feel of the battered arena. Mostly in a passive narrative form, though, but well-placed nonetheless. For Lorenor, mostly well done as well. However, you missed a great opportunity of interweaving your surrounding into the scene you ambushed John Mattis outside of the Pagoda. The wind and rain effect would make Lorenor look super creepy when described in full literary detail. Drenched in the rain, with hair trailing down in lumpy knots and set aglow only by the eerie shine of his purple orbs... *shudders*

Pacing - 6/6

The pacing of the battle started off slow, never quite reached a peak with the exchange of blows and fizzled away with the last four posts. It could definitely be better had you both capitalized on "trading blows" for a few more times before ending with a big stand-off followed by the final blow, which would be 016573's side kick and Lorenor's overhead slash. It just felt that there was more tension prior to the fight than the fight itself.

Writing Style

Mechanics - 6/5

016573 had the edge when it came to sentence structure and flow of words, although quite a number of grammatical errors popped up during the last quarter of the thread. Watch out for those and make sure to re-read your materials often!

For Lorenor, there still seems to be a bit of struggle when it comes to structure and form in a sentence. There were a lot of incomplete sentences that did not help develop the feel of the story and a sentence of two that served no purpose to the thread except as fillers unneeded. I will say more on this under the category Technique.

Technique - 8/6

Bravo, 016573! You did a great job of using well-placed literary devices which helped to enhance the feel of the story! While most of such descriptions went into conveying the setting and time, you also used it to minimize overly-descriptive sentences and kept the meaning short and succint.

As for Lorenor... Well, you did a fairly good job as well. Not too much misplaced descriptions or literary devices, which is usually one of the biggest mistakes your average writers will do. However, the implementation of words and inclusion of background information is something you will need to work on. As an example, the information regarding the Inquisition and the Gisela Massacre in Post #6, along with how Lorenor came to acquire knowledge of the information, was entirely misplaced. Try breaking it down and planting snippets of such information into other scenes and sentences to help even out the pacing of the story instead of serving as a page break to your writing. Or even better yet, note it down at the beginning of your very first post and use it to mark Lorenor's motivation. How you go about it, that's up to you.

Clarity - 6/5

Mainly because 016573's posts are easier to understand than Lorenor's. Writing a meaningful story is one thing we, as writers, all strive to reach. But take notice that when we write, we want other people to read our works. If the readers can't understand what you're trying to say, that's just a shame. For Lorenor, that goes mainly to your flow of writing and sentence structure. A recommendation is to start off slowly and take as much time as you can spare to write out a sentence. As the story progresses, go back and read the entire thing again to pick out details that seem to play no role in the story and omit that. Start off a bit small and work your way to more complex structures. Or even yet, write out a rough draft on paper before writing out the scene. Sometimes, seeing the scene unfold on paper will help you get a feel of what needs to be written in words.

For 016573, you don't have to describe every single detail that is irrelevant to the story. If it serves a subliminal theme (provided that there are other similar references in the story as well), keep it.

Character

Dialogue - 7/4

Joshua's speech came out strong and unique, showing everything from his emotion to his state of mind. It also hinted at a sly nature hidden deep inside as well, one that most people would not notice in his otherwise composed form.

Lorenor's words, however, came off fairly forced especially during the beginning of the thread when he initially spoke to Joshua. And, not to be too harsh or anything, he sounded too stupid to be Lorenor. The Lorenor I have read about was usually a very thoughtful individual and, as revealed in the later half of the thread, quite a considerate fellow. His words betrayed his thought but you played it believably it could mislead the readers completely. He also sounded very flat and emotionless when he addressed Joshua of his true mission. Try to avoid having the character say what you want him to say - rather, the character should be saying what he wanted under the given circumstances. A character is essentially another being and such a being also has a different way of thinking that the writer. Well, most of the time, anyways. And as a departing note in this category... Try to keep the dialogue consistent with his personality.

Action - 7/3

Joshua acted quite believably throughout the story, keeping calm in the heat of battle and did not break from his character and lunge for Lorenor's throat when he first appeared at the doorsteps. If anything could be improved on, it would be to portray his anger a bit more outstanding than this attempt. I could not see Joshua's expression clearly and could only guess how badly he is grimacing before the fight.

And for Lorenor... I have said it once before and I will say it here again. Please, please, please do not overplay Lorenor's combat prowess. I do not know how good (or how bad) the undead had become without the proper reference and the latest one I can see is that the undead is still this:


H2H Sphere 0--(Combat Skill) Lorenor has below average skill with hand to hand combat since he is an untrained warrior. His attacks are random and lack any sort of discipline or training.


But, obviously, this was what he did:


...the boy reacted powerfully with his enhanced training.

And once again, here:


Though the wind fell from his ancient lungs. The boy found himself gasping for breath whilst he attacked Joshua's legs.

The first being an example of how Lorenor reacted far too skillfully for such an "undisciplined" fighter. He did mention being harshly trained by the Ai'Bron monks, but I could found no such enhancent to his prowess that would justify his skill level here.

The second example would be a downplay of power so you could follow through with your own attack. If you had ever been on the receiving end of a side kick (and believe me, once for me is more than enough) you would know how devastating it would be to receive even a glancing blow. In the attack by Joshua, Lorenor did not receive a glancing blow but a direct impact. And, no, a normal human's chest would not collapse. That's what the ribcage is for. It would send a man flying off his feet, however, especially if he has on a good piece of uncollapsible piece of chest armor. And seeing that Lorenor did not brace himself for the impact, even with the Endless acting as a sturdy piece of armor, Lorenor himself would have been launched back at least by half a meter. Not really far, but enough to disrupt the counterattack completely.

There are two ways to approach any physical, close-quarter combat: Avoid and counter, or trade blow-for-blow. Trading blow for blow is a tricky situation that requires both parties to understand the effects of each attack so as to play it out believably and in an exciting manner. There was obviously some miscommunication in this part, as the other events told me you two had talked with each other to a good extent.

Persona - 7/5

While 016573 portrayed Joshua's emotions and mindset fairly skillfully, utilizing the different nuances of circumstances to great effects, Lorenor had a rough time keeping his character consistent and believable. Not too bad, but could definitely be better. Remember that while emotions can change on a whim, there has to be a reason for such change and the intensity proportionate to what was felt.

Well, sure, you could have a mild character go berserk after seeing a carnation get crushed underfoot by a thug, but perhaps that flower meant the world to her (which would be explained prior to the events noted here) and the intensity of such action was justifiable to her losing her head.

Miscellaneous

Wild Card - 5/6

016573 was late for his turn twice (over the 72-hour limit) which means an automatic loss. Lorenor kept his replies fairly quick, sacrificing a good deal of story development, but nonetheless still has a bit more issues with story-telling techniques.

And also, a slap in the hand for both of you. Do your homework, please! Scara Brae is an island off the coast of Corone. Underwood is in the Barony of Concordia, on mainland Corone Empire. The Coronian Empire controls most of the area there, saved for small pockets of resistence in Concordia where the Rangers are still very active (whoops!). Scara Brae has their own government, and a very beautiful queen to rule it all, which had no ties with the Coronian Empire whatsoever. Therefore...


the small army finally entered Scara Brae on the way to Underwood. There, they were ordered to make a pit-stop to refresh supplies at the Dajas Pagoda.


What's the Knights of Dawn doing in Scara Brae when they were "on their way" to Underwood? It's like you're saying you're travelling from NYC to Miami, Florida and dropped by in Paris for a quick meal.

*Me points my hands left and right, end up tying my arms into a knot in the process.*

Taking over the Dajas Pagoda would have no effect on the Corone Empire, either. The Knights of Scara Brae, however, would not be so please.

...And, yes. I'm nit-picking. :p

Final Scores - 65/53

016573 Wins! But because of the "Two Strikes" Rule in effect, he also loses! Oh noes!

016573 receives the Winner's EXP of 825 EXP but receives no GP because of the loss according to Dajas Pagoda Rules. 016573 also loses his Winning Streak and must start over from 0! :eek:

Therefore, no Warrior Rank rewards for you this turn.

Mutant_Lorenor receives the Loser's EXP of 150 EXP but receives the Winner's GP amount of 150 GP. Because this is counted as a Win according to Pagoda Rules, Mutant_Lorenor can now take up the rank of a Warrior or immediately challenge a Master Rank hierarch. PM me with your request and I will relay them to the forces in charge. :cool:

Lorenor keeps the Plynt Masterwork broadsword. Deep red stains remained stuck in the grains due to the metal's unique property, however, and no one would be willing to buy a blood-soaked sword anyway. Also remember that Lorenor should still be very untrained until he gets some experience under his belt (and an update to his combat prowess in the Character Profile).

If you have any comments, concerns, death threats or such, please send me a PM and I will answer them accordingly. Have a good day, you two!

[Letho]

EXP/GP added.