The Retreat and the Raze (Open!)

[Mathias]

The bed was oddly comfortable, despite the simplicity of it. A thin mattress on a steel cot-frame, and yet, it felt like a hotel suite. Mathias awoke, the visions of his fight with a man whose name he hadn't even gotten to know, swirling through his head. He'd lost - and by a pretty bad gap. He'd gotten the living snot beat out of him, and although he wasn't the worse for wear, now that he'd been fixed up, he still felt uneasy. The Master's letter had been discarded not long after he'd read it, but the words were still clear in his mind. Mull over your defeat. Stay there until you tap your potential.

Thinking about this, he clanked the thin iron bracers on his wrist together. They didn't look they did much - hell, butter would probably stop a blade faster than these. And yet, anytime he deviated from the maniacal wizard who'd enslaved him, he'd be yanked right back into the machinations from which he'd tried to escape. He could planeswalk... but if he tried to leave... tried to get away... he'd land right back into the Firmament.

So his only choice was to stay here, until he utterly and mercilessly demolished an opponent in battle. He had to let the primal instincts that the civility of his conscience tried to suppress. He had to find a way to reach inside of himself and pull out the power that was locked away inside. Assuming, of course, that his Master was correct in believing that there was a "power locked away," to begin with.

Mathias left his room and found a Monk, affirming that he was ready for his next match. The servant of Ai'Bron nodded, his stoic expression not changing as he said in a somewhat monotonous voice, "There is something you should know about your fight yesterday. You perished." The vandal tilted his head and looked at the Monk stupidly. "Your opponent killed you once you lost consciousness. We brought you back - we have that power. You have nothing to fear... but we have an obligation to tell you such things."

A numbness set into the planeswalker and he felt the reality that surrounded him become less substantial. The meaning of things and the hopes that he had were set back for a moment as he pondered the actual capacity of the situation. As he was escorted down the hallways, the granduer of the tapestires and lamps and murals and all the decor in between was wasted on him. He barely registered the awe-striking beauty of the Citadel itself, but then again, his first walk through hadn't struck him with much either. He thought it had been pompous, wasteful, gluttonous. The Zirnden had been much more simple... much more intimate, as well.

Having been led to a door, Mathias opened it and stepped through, entering another plain, dull room that he suspected all arenas in this place started out as. As he blinked, however, the chamber instantly melted away and became a landscape that he did not recognize. Surveying the area, he was standing inside a large, roughly twenty feet by twenty feet solid cube of thick glass, suspended in mid air by whatever magics that the Citadel itself worked. The cage itself was floating between two cliffs, a large an ominous gorge sitting comfortably below him, eagerly awaiting the descent.

Looking at the ground, far below him, he realized two things. The first was that he was really bloody high in the air. The second was that the canyon was filled with corpses, packed together in a macabre cement of flesh and blood. The bodies were stacked so high, they were only feet from actually touching the top of either of the plateau's cliffs.

The fight, he assumed, would end with one of the fighters falling from the glass cage and becoming a part of the sickening floor below. The only question was... who was the other combatant?

[Whiteshadow]

Mathias, I'll take you on in this battle, but I don't have the time at this moment. I'll be on later tonight to post.

Again the Citadel's doors welcomed the albino warrior. Last time he had lost, to a warrioress of fierce skill and spirit. He swore to himself that he would not let that happen again this time.

The stone steps of the Citadel felt good beneath his worn boots, as if they were welcoming him home from a long vacation. Dweia lay perched around his neck and on his shoulders, purring loudly in his ear. He didn't mind her company, but he was worried that one of these days she might just get caught up in the action and get hurt. Her being his closest companion, he thought to himself that he would never be able to forgive himself if that ever happened.

As he reached the top of the steps a hooded monk greeted him. "Welcome back, White Shadow." The man said quietly. Eternium stopped in his tracks at the title and looked at the man perculiarly. "Why do you call me that?" the experiment asked politely, stroking the black fur of his cat with one gloved hand.

"It is the title you have been given by many members of our order. I belong to a secret order of monks that would wish to make use of your...strange abilities." The man continued on quietly. He was obviously speaking so that other monks would not be able to hear his words clearly, using whispers and small movements to convey secrecy. Eternium arched a white eyebrow as he considered the man's words.

"...so what?" the experiment finally spoke, driving off the impending silence. "You here to recruit me or something?"

"Not exactly. First you need to be...tested."

Tested. The word echoed through Eternium mind as the word brought memories, old memories, memories of another world back to the surface, memories he had worked harder than anyone to suppress. Tests. Calculations. Numbers.

He had been an animal. A test subject. And the one person who had fought against that fact, fought for his existence as a human being, was--

Fighting back treacherous tears at the uprising memories, Eternium snarled at the man in a way that was unlike him. "You can keep your fuckin' test to yourself. I'm not interested." Glaring at the surprised man with tears in his blue eyes, Eternium stomped the rest of the way to the door, picking up Dweia and setting her on the ground next to his leather sack that carried his stuff. His oaken staff he had tied on his back as he had had no reason to use it, but now he untied it and held it by his side in one gloved hand.

Another monk came up to him, this one without a hood and smiling green eyes. "You wish to battle? There is one open right now."

Eternium shrugged, wiping the liquid from his eyes before confronting the monk. "I guess. It's been awhile since I last brushed up on my skills."

"Very well, then. Just enter through the door: your opponent is waiting there." And with that the monk cast a hand to the door directly in front of the albino warrior, revealing a glowing light. Eternium knelt down before his cat once more, who had curled herself in the sack and was purring happily. "You stay here, okay?" he whispered as he scratched her behind the ear, and straightened up to stride straight through the glowing doorway.

When he came to, he was standing in the air. It was a strange sensation, but there was something he was standing on the kept him from falling into a giant crevice that seemed to be filled with...

Dead bodies.

Where in hell had they sent him? Eternium wondered silently, before examining his sorroundings. He seemed to be trapped in a cube of pure glass, hanging suspended above the canyon of death below hundreds of feet below. A strange arena, but in the Citadel he had learned that anything was possible.

Across from him on the other side of the cube was a boy, roughly seventeen to nineteen, Eternium could imagine. He was slightly shorter than the experiment but his body build made up for the height difference, so Eternium could imagine that he and the boy were about the same weight. There didn't seem to be anything special about the boy, other than the fact that he was unarmed.

Well, Eternium was as well, technically, but he still had his blades hidden as an ace up his sleeve. "Hey there!" he called over to the boy, a wide grin splitting across his face. "You my opponent?" Eternium was acting foolish, as if he were immature and inexperienced. It was best not to let his opponent know that he wouldn't be fighting a kitten.

Finally done.

[Mathias]

Mathias watched as the man before him appeared from a door that he could no longer see, entering the illusion... or rather, the reality of the arena. He'd seen odd people, throughout his days in Althanas. His opponent, however, was just a bit of a dash of something else. After his fight with the martial artist, whose prowess had far surpassed his, he wasn't sure there was going to be any formality in the Citadel. His first impression had granted him the idea that all fights were instant, short, quick, sweet, and completely unpoetic, punctuated by the spray of blood and the cry of defeat. There were no announcers, no crowd, no stakes. It was pure and unadulterated violence.

The vandal started to unbutton his jacket as he walked forward, covering the distance between himself and the new arrival. He slid it from his body and took it in his right hand, extending the left for a handshake, stopping only two feet from his opponent. "My name is Vandal. And I'd hope that I'm your opponent, because I'm certainly not a fucking welcoming party."

From this distance, he was able to look over the opposition with much more scrutiny, his hazy green eyes narrowing as he stared. White hair, skin twice as pale as Mathias's had ever gotten, only two or three inches over him... lithe build, probably breaking even with his weight, if not a little less. This was nothing compared to the power house that was the scrapper he'd fought yesterday. Not even close.

And before he could give time enough to allow his adversary to respond, to the gesture or the comment, the planeswalker threw his jacket towards his face to obscure his vision, bringing up his right hand to follow for an uppercut to the stomach. He didn't want to waste time chit-chatting, or playing pretend friends for the five seconds that wouldn't matter by the end of the fight. He wasn't here by his own choice, and he wasn't here to do anything other than win.

Winning meant getting closer to whatever Destiny had in store for him. Winning meant maybe a better chance to escape the chains of the sorceror whose power was lorded over him. And to win, meant he had to annhialate obstacles in his way, whether or not they were men, beast, or otherwise. This man definitely fit that classification.

[Whiteshadow]

Eternium smirked as the boy threw the first punch, apparently using the coat as a diversion. But unluckily for the boy, Eternium had some practice in martial arts as well, and had even created his own style, the Senbonzakura. So even though it was a good try, Eternium had not been fooled by the ploy.

The boy threw the coat upwards, which mean that he obviously wasn't going for Eternium's upperhalf. His mind working like a high-speed computer, Eternium calculated the angle in which the boy could attack from, and ducked as the coat flew over his head. A fist came up to greet Eternium, a meeting of face-to-knuckle, it seemed. Moving swiftly, letting the momentum from his movement guide him, Eternium sprang foward, leaping into the air about 3 feet as he felt the fist sing by his body. Bringing a knee up, Eternium locked on to his target, his blue eyes focusing as he calculated the trajectory in mid-air.

Judging by the boy's speed, Eternium guess he had about a 45% chance of connecting with a knee blow to the face, a 62% chance of dropping and hitting him in the chest, and a 58% chance of catching him on the fly-by if the boy dodged with the edge of his foot. Either that or Eternium would miss completely.

"Not a fucking welcoming party indeed..." Eternium murmured as his eyes locked with the boy's hazelish green ones.

Sorry about that. I'll ask one of the mods to delete the above post.

[Mathias]

Of all the things that Mathias hated most about fighting someone, it was the failure to connect. It was the most exasperating part of combat. One had so many expectations of themselves, and above all, they had the desire to feel themselves causing pain - to feel flesh melt between their knuckles. To unleash their fury and frustration and flurry of pissed-off emotions upon someone else. It was like the other person became the perfect conduit for them to transfer and unload their anger on.

And even then, it was paradoxically sickening to know that, even after a connection, one could derive pleasure from being hit themselves. Trading blow for blow, there was a satisfaction that was so inhumane, so beyond morals and anything remotely resembling "civility." But, the horrific letdown of missing, of failing to draw blood, and then being struck in retaliation, was the absolute opposite of that morbid pleasure.

Language's confined convetions cannot convey, in any capacity, the distinct distraught that befell Mathias at that moment. His fist flew by his opponent, his jacket having done nothing particularly useful, despite the wild gesture. It fell to the floor, lazily, and the planeswalker felt a knee crash into his collarbone and clip his chin, sending him backwards an inch. He felt pain course through the areas surrounding his neck. In a quick instant, the mists of battle had set in over him. It was the kind of haze that came only... only when there was a sense of danger and in the heat of battle. It obscured his vision, in that, he saw nothing else except for the path between him and his opponent, and all the ways to victory... or defeat in between.

Everyone has the desire to win. They all have motives, missions, real reasons, both legitimate and lecherous. How do you seperate, then, who deserves victory more? the boy thought in the single moment of clarity that passed through him, the blood surging through his body in a forceful pump as his heart made an extra effort to give a good squeeze. Along with this musing came a bout of self righteousness... or perhaps, a defining drive of self-preservation, giving him the single and utter urge to fight... to kill... to win. Then, came a thought, so absolute in it's meaning, that it centered itself inside Math's mind. I don't want to die.

Mathias thrust out his arms to push his opponent away from him. Regardless if he had, he backstepped a few times, trying to put a bit of distance between them. Recovering himself, he drew up to his full height and slanted his body, putting his left side, his inferior side, towards his opponent. He panted, his breath already coming short as adrenaline pumped through his head.

Beneath him, he heard a large crack. Looking down for just a moment, he saw tendrils of frailty begin to race through the floor of the cage. The horrid sound seemed to warn him of the impending fall... he must've stepped too hard... or perhaps it was simply the nature of the arena to fall apart after a specified time. Either way, the science of it wouldn't matter in the next few moments. What would become completely concerning was the descent itself.

Taking his last few precious seconds to launch an offensive, the vandal charged forward, the glass crunching beneath his boots and cracking more and more with each step he took. He jumped up, raising his right fist, throwing all his force into a hooked punch, attempting to atleast close himself around his opponent, if not knock him in the face outright.

But when he'd landed, there would be no doubt that Math's fall wouldn't stop there. In fact, no matter what, they'd both be plummeting through the air, towards the canyon of cadavers that awaited them below. In macabre amusement, he hoped they'd be cushion enough for the impact.

[Whiteshadow]

Eternium almost laughed aloud at the incredulous expression that spread across the youth's face when his blow didn't connect. It seemed that once again, Eternium had been underestimated, and he felt satisfaction slide into place as his calculations were correct and he clipped the boy's neck and collarbone with his knee attack. A grunt echoed from the boy and around the small arena, and at first the experiment thought that he had already won this battle at the pain that was in his opponent's voice. However when the boy pushed Eternium away, sending his own form backwards a few steps and the experiment back through the air to land lightly on the glass, the first thoughts that came through his brain were Crap. Guess I was wrong again.

As the two stared at each other, each filled with their own private thoughts and plans, the experiment noticed that his opponent was breathing slightly more heavier, and Eternium knew that he held the advantage not only in surprise but in endurance as well, as the albino was just warming up. Standing straight up, he lifted one gloved hand and cocked one finger arrogantly. "Come, kid. I didn't come here to play tag."

Suddenly a loud cracking sound filled the chamber of the glass cube, and beneath the boy's feet small cracks began to form. Shit! Eternium's mind raced as he began forming a plan, but he did not have long as the boy charged him. Each step the boy took seemed to spread the cracks like a virus, until they would reach where the experiment stood.

Kamikaze. Eternium's mind was remarkably calm. The boy was trying to at least take the albnio warrior with him, if he had to fall. But Eternium wasn't worried about the descent, as he had a couple tricks up his white sleeves. What he was more worried about was the hooked punch that was nearing closer and closer in the air, the one who called himself Vandal having leapt into the air like a kangeroo.

Instead of dodging the attack, Eternium smiled as his hand drifted downwards, and just as the boy neared Eternium, triumph on his youthful face, a blade of light came forth into being in Eternium's left hand and flicked upward, closing the almost 5' distance between the two in a milisecond. At the same time Eternium felt the boy's arm close around his neck, but he did not resist as the blow carried both of them through the glass. Instead, he smiled, and spoke to the boy. "Well that was quick." And he pushed himself away from the boy's body, faster, faster towards the seemingly inevitable end below him.

[Mathias]

You cheap motherfucker! Mathias screamed in his thoughts as a dagger of light flashed forward. He reacted instantly, using his grip on his opponent to push him sideways. The blade connected, flaying a deep cut through his shoulderblade. A cry of agony escaped his lips, masked by the shattering of the glass cage, and the two began their terminal descent towards the bottom of the canyon. As the albino pushed away, putting distance in the air between them, Mathias felt the arena start to shift slightly, and the fall started to slow. There was no massive impact, there was no painful explosion against the cold, hardened bodies of the thousand-fold dead.

Feet above the corpse-paved ground, the featherfall effect of the Citadel's magic wore off and Math plummeted for a brief instant, losing balance and falling to his knees as he landed. Immediately, the air around him condensed and felt stagnant - the stench of death and rot invaded in his nostrils. He gagged, feeling bile rise up in his throat. Luckily, he hadn't anything to throw up; having no breakfast seemed to be an advantage in this case.

He broke into a sprint, trying not to trip over the twisted limbs that attempted to obscure his path. He rushed towards his opponent, lunging forward through the air in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. The possibility of him having more of those little energy-bound daggers didn't worry him at all; there was no playing it smart if the adversary was armed and he wasn't. He'd just have to keep up a fast-paced, intense assault, with no breath in between blows. If he's such a fucking coward, that he has to use blades in a fist fight... Math thought to himself, not even bothering to finish it with any threat he could muster - it was too much to think anymore. All there was, was assault, and that dream of victory that he hoped he would taste soon enough.

[Whiteshadow]

Eternium frowned as he saw his blade of light slice through the shoulderblade. He had intended it to impale his opponent through the intestines, thus probably ending this fight in one blow, but alas it seemed he had misjudged his opponents speed.

Somehow, the boy reached the pile of death below them before the albnio, and Eternium could see that while the fall must've hurt, the sheer number of bodies prevented death from coming and taking another. Surprise...Eternium thought to himself as narrowed his eyes. He saw the boy gag, presumably at the mere stench of the bodies.

Merely twenty feet from the pile himself, Eternium began concentrating, focusing on the darkness within him and without. Just as he began he saw the boy leap into the air, a snarl placed on his lips, one of outrage. He probably was thinking that he hadn't expected Eternium to be a weapon user, and the albino experiment almost chuckled outloud. So far, Eternium held the advantage in this battle. Just before his opponent was to grab him with those long, powerful arms of his, Eternium dissaperared into a pillar of darkness, reappering directly behind the boy in the air. Instantaneously, Eternium created three blades of light that circled his right hand, but instead of throwing them he shoved his hand forward, this time heading straight for the back of the boy's head. He did not say anything: there were no words to say to those that were dead.

[Mathias]

Mathias blinked as his opponent suddenly disappeared from sight. Double gods damn it... I should be the only one who can do that shit, he thought bitterly. He stumbled forward through empty air, twirling around in preparation for what he knew was coming - it'd be the same thing he would do, had he been in the position. Grinning wickedly, he watched as his adversary went through the motion of stabbing him in the head. "Go to Hell," he said, before he suddenly disappeared from view.

Or to be more accurate, from that plane of physical existence. He centralized all of his willpower, feeling every inch of his body and becoming entirely in tune with himself. Before the blades could reach him, pierce him, and kill him, the world began to change around him. His essence slipped through the cracks of reality and ended up on the other side, in a dimensionless space with no beginning or end, no horizon, or sky, or ground. It was empty, save for colorful mists and vivid, rainbow hued fogs that caressed him, lovingly.

He smiled, taking in a deep breath, allowing the world to soothe his soul for the single moment he stayed there. He took several steps forward and then tugged on his soul again, falling through the world, through reality, through everything, until he materialized back in the arena.

As scientific and as logical as one may explain it, all existences and realities are congruent to one another; only the perception of reality causes it to seem different. Therefore, Mathias had made a short stride forward and then fell through the slips and slopes of existence, and as a result, he ended at his intended destination; Only a few steps behind where his opponent had hoped to teleport behind him... or whatever it was that he was able to do. The fighter was fairly certain that he was going to catch the albino off guard with what, at first glance, would have appeared to have been an imitation of his skill. Little would he realize, then, that Mathias had whisked back into form behind him, ready to unleash his own ambush.

Allowing himself a victorious smirk, he launched himself forward in an attempt to tackle, grapple, and pin his opponent down to the corpse covered ground.

[Whiteshadow]

Teleportation? No...it was something else. Unlike Eternium, who used darkness to move his molecules, this boy simply faded out of existence and back again. This set Eternium's percentages in his head racing; numbers went flying through his head like slings and arrows and he struggled to control them again. After a couple seconds, he did, but it was a couple seconds wasted, a couple seconds he could have been using on figuring out how to defeat this now mysterious enemy. As he landed on the corpses he bent his knees to lesses the impact, which helped considerably.

The enemy was now behind him, the same technique that Eternium himself had performed. How he had ended up there exactly, Eternium did not know, but what he did know was that since Eternium landed they would be on a direct collision course with each other. Reacting purely on his warrior's instinct and forgetting his logic for a second, Eternium grabbed two blades in his gloved hands and sent the third directly at his opponent, hoping to force his opponent to fade back out of existence once more. While he did this, at the same time he felt the darkness within stirring, and he called upon it once more as he searched the depths for something to help him defeat this mysterious boy. He wasn't about to lose again.

[Mathias]

Idon'twanttodie, Idon'twanttodie, Idon'twannadie, don'twannadie. I don't want to die!

It became a mantra, pounding itself into his skull with the rhythm of every footstep. Victory was freedom, even if that freedom still lead him back to his enslavement. One battle he'd already lost, and now this one wasn't looking so good... Why the fuck would he be paired with someone who wasn't an even match? What was the point in fighting an opponent who had an absolute advantage? So many sadistic bastards... he thought to himself. It seemed everyone in the world had a hard-on for total decimation. Anyone with power loved to flaunt it, to let the weak suffer more than they already were. The Master, the Monks, the martial artist he'd faced, and now this albino. Math felt helpless against the wave of violence that he'd been thrust against, unable to rise above the circumstances.

The blade of light pierced through him, just below his rib cage. He felt it drive through his abdomen, sticking through flesh and meat and sinew and organs. He still ran forward, charging without comprehension to his own health. His right hand moved to his left shoulder, gripping the blade of solid energy that had pierced him there, and pulled it out. His left hand moved to his stomach, prying that shank free. Agony coursed through his body, and blood oozed from the wounds. He started to go numb, the life force draining from him.

Idon'twannadiedon'twannadiedon'twannadie.

The flesh-floor beneath him let out a sick, thick thud as his boots pounded against the long-since rotten corpses of fallen warriors. He felt himself being driven by a single goal; to do his damndest not to join them. With all the might he could must, he lunged forward, thrusting both daggers forward to pierce his enemy and pay him back, blow for blow, that'd been dealt to him.

[Whiteshadow]

Another lucky strike. First the blade through the boy's shoulder, now this one just underneath the rib cage. Normally, Eternium considered himself as an average long-range fighter, but even so he did not expect both of his projectiles to strike. Luck, it seemed, was fickle indeed.

What surprised him though was that even though the boy must have been suffering from a severe lack of blood loss and tissue damage, he was still standing and running towards the albino. Eternium did not consider himself human. After all, what kind of human can teleport himself via the darkness and create blades of pure light? And so, when he thought to himself that humans were pretentious creatures, he was not surprised at the lack of reference to himself.

Then the boy did something that Eternium had not expected: he pulled out the experiment's own blades and was obviously prepared to use them on the experiment himself. Instantly Eternium was on guard: he did not know exactly what kind of trick the boy had performed before, and neither did he know whether the boy could do it again, and since the experiment was left with less knowledge that he would have liked he supposed he was more cautious that what was necessary.

Bastard...Eternium thought as the warrior came closer and closer. Those are my blades! And at the thought he extended his hand that held one of his other blades and taunted the boy. "Don't push your luck, boy." He snarled, before launching the blade from his hand with his mind, straight at the incoming boy. And in his other hand he flipped his other blade into a reverse-knife position and dashed towards his opponent, mentally taking note of the speed of his opponent, the roughness of the ground, the trajectory of his blade...

The boy, delirious from blood loss and obvious rage, launched himself forward in an attempt to pierce Eternium with his own daggers. Eternium narrowed his eyes at he saw the points of his own daggers come forth to steal his life blood, to rob him of his soul. Traitorous blades. What right had they to even attempt? They were his, his blades, and nobody, not even God himself, had the right to touch them.

He would show this boy who truly was meant to wield the blades of light. Diving foward, Eternium rolled to the ground and sprang forward in one smooth motion, and as he came closer to the running boy he ducked down even lower as he felt the wihte blades pass through the strands of his silver hair, and he shivered slightly. Pressing his remaining blade into both of his hands, Eternium shoved himself foward in a last ditch effort to run the boy through the heart and end this pointless battle once and for all.

[Mathias]

No. Nonono. This wasn't supposed to go like this...

In one quick motion, he'd ducked, then sprung forth, launching his weapon into Math's chest. Shit. Oh, Sway... The vandal's breath caught in his throat, a giant lump of air that pressed against his adam's apple. This sucks, he thought, as his vision started to go red. It was a murky haze that filled up his eyes, and he the bubble in his esophagus exploded, splurting blood from his mouth in a crimson spray. As it frothed off his lips, he let out a gargled, gasping rasp of a death-rattle, and then collapsed over his opponent. The blades in his hands slipped from the lifeless grip he could no longer maintain, and fell to the corpse-ridden ground that Mathias would soon join.

I guess I lost, then...

That was the last thought he had before everything was blanketed by a dark shadow and he embraced the temporary rest that death would give him.

~

There was a ceiling there, made of wood. The scent of decay was no longer prevalent, assaulting his senses like a torrent of macabre aroma... The flesh beneath him wasn't cold and stiff, but instead warm and soft. What covered his torso was not blood and stale, musty air, but a thin white sheet. He slowly gathered himself, sitting into an upright position and coming to the revelation that he was once again in the room he'd been allotted as he made his stay at the Citadel.

Instinctively, he recoiled, attempting to get into a combat-ready stance. The hooded figure in black robes, sitting in the chair next to the bed, reached out an arm with a lazy grace. The bracers on Mathias's wrists clinked together, binding by a magnetic force that was a level of magic that the planeswalker could not defy. The figure stood up and with dog-like obedience, Math bowed his head, muttering several apologies at once.

"You've failed again, child," the Master said. His gravelly, raspy voice rolled off a tongue that the vandal could not see within the deep shadows of his hood. They reached his ears and then ran down as a shiver through his spine. "Maybe... Perhaps I should conduct more experiments?"

Math's eyes widened. "N-no! No! That will not be necessary, Master. I will succeed, next time. I will... I will push myself beyond the limits of the flesh... like you said. I will reach my potential! Please - please, one more chance!" he begged. By his imploring, he hoped to stay the dark sorceror's morbid generosity. He knew that he could not coax an ounce of humanity from him, but a temporary reprieve from the Master's torture would be enough.

"Yes... yes, you will, won't you? Very well, my dear little specimen. One more chance." And then, the figure disappeared in a flash of black, smokey magic, leaving Math to prepare himself for another grueling fight in the twisted machinations of the Citadel.

[Whiteshadow]

I win.
An empty victory. The boy had not put up much of a battle: Eternium still felt the warrior spirit that he held close pounding, and his own breath was coming in short gasps from the sheer amount of adrenaline that was flowing through his veins.

Why the monks had pointed him to an unarmed warrior he did not know why. Eternium looked down at the bloody blades that had pierced his opponent with a sort of shame, that he had resorted to using them so early in the battle. Its my fault, then, that this battle is empty. Eternium thought silently as he watched his own blades dissapear, including the one in his right hand. Why had he wanted to win so badly? Didn't he come with the intention to become a better warrior? And yet, he had gained nothing from this battle, nothing but a deep sense of shame.

The boy...he had been an interesting fellow, even though Eternium had not known him for more than a couple minutes. He had the eyes of an animal. Not a wild, free animal, but one that was cornered, caged. What kind of man was he? What kind of life did he live? Eternium found himself asking himself those questions and he shook his head, clearing his thoughts and nostrils of the dead.

A bright light enclosed him, and suddenly Eternium felt his body being warped away. I am a victor?...No.Eternium shook his head once more. I have lost again.
_____________________________

"Mroooooow." Dweia greeted him as he sat on the table that the monks had prepared for him, as they began healing his slight injuries. It was a slightly irritated meow, and she held her tail up high in a way that reminded Eternium of a stuck-up queen. He smiled slightly before reaching out and ruffling the back of her head with a gloved hand, and she purred before she closed her eyes and rubbed her head against his fingers.

"There, all done." One of the monks said, stepping back from the albino. Eternium nodded his thanks as he got off the table and brushed his white coat off. "I'm surprised. Usually most of our fighters come out bruised, battered, or dead, but you suffered almost no injuries at all. Are you an experienced Citadel fighter, Mr...?" The monk seemed genuinely interested.

Eternium shook his head and smiled slightly. "Nah, this is only my second time I've been here." As he responded he picked up the mewling form of Dweia and put her back in his leather sack, which was propped up against the long oaken stave he carried. "I just got lucky, that's all."

Before the monks could respond Eternium was already walking away, the butt of his staff thudding against the marble ground.

When he got outside the sun blazed in his eyes, and he looked away. His thoughts now were troubled, full of a pair of eyes so tortured that they screamed for release.

Live long, Mr. Vandal...Eternium sent a thought back before he exited the Citadel once again.

[Call me J]

Mathias-75

STORY – 22/30

Continuity ~ 8/10. This really fit well with your storyline. I got a real feeling of how this battle was important in and of itself, and that isn’t always natural in Citadel battles.
Setting ~ 7/10. This setting was unique, and you could have gotten closer to a nine or ten if it had factored more into your strategy.
Pacing ~ 7/10. Your part in this battle flowed quite well.

CHARACTER- 19/30

Dialogue ~ 6/10. There was nothing that I would say was really out of character or bad, but there were a few lines in here especially the thing about the “welcoming party” was just unnecessary.
Action ~ 7/10. I really liked the way you had Mathias pressing towards the end. I really felt as though you didn’t say it explicitly, that Mathias was starting to really press towards the end out of desperation. This was quite good.
Persona ~ 6/10. I would like to score this a bit higher, but Mathias came off as a bit flat, and you didn’t really communicate much here.

WRITING STYLE- 25/30

Technique ~ 7/10. What you did do was good, but you could stand to be a bit more adventurous.
Mechanics ~ 9/10. Watch your tenses.
Clarity ~ 9/10. Some of the descriptions of the setting weren’t as clear as they could have been and required a second read.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 9/10. I really liked what you were doing here. Good battle.

Whiteshadow-64


STORY – 16/30

Continuity ~ 4/10. You didn’t really tie in what you were doing here to the story you set up in your first post. The conclusion also was quite poor, it felt as if you were just putting in phrases to have something at the end, as opposed to telling a story.
Setting ~ 5/10. I don’t really feel as though you did much to contribute to the setting. You didn’t have to describe the setting after Mathias already did them, but that said, you could have reacted to it better.
Pacing ~ 7/10. Though I did feel like you were letting Mathias do much of the storytelling here, you definitely kept the pace of the battle good.

CHARACTER- 17/30

Dialogue ~ 5/10. Keep in mind that the dialogue of NPCs is just as important. When their dialogue seems unnatural, the thread seems unnatural, and you have less opportunity to use Eternium’s dialogue to say something about him.
Action ~ 6/10. I really felt like a few times your nonviolent actions mimicked Mathias too much.
Persona ~ 6/10. I’m not sure if your goal is to portray Eternium as a “McGuffin” type of character, but regardless, you need to do a bit more than just have things happen to him. Let me know more about how he processes things.

WRITING STYLE- 25/30

Technique ~ 7/10. Normally I would be opposed to analogies with computers, but in your case, given your character, it works.
Mechanics ~ 9/10. There were a couple of formatting issues here. Also, while sentence fragments are okay sometimes in creative writing if used right, you should try to cut down on the number of them that you have. You have too many.
Clarity ~ 9/10. I really had no problems here, except perhaps the occasional lapse of brevity.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 6/10. I feel that you could have done a whole lot more, but this was one of the best threads I’ve seen you write in. I’m happy to see your progress. Don’t feel discouraged that Mathias has beat you. He’d probably smack the crap out of me too if we were to battle.

Spoils- I have given Whiteshadow some bonus EXP because I don’t feel like the rewards he has received are comparable to his effort.

Mathias gets 600 EXP and 105 GP
Whiteshadow gets 100 EXP + 50 bonus EXP and 90 GP

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added!