Conference I Championship: Cyrus the Virus vs. Solomon

To make up for the difference in progress of Conferences I and II, this round is going to be longer than normal.

This thread will end in three weeks on Tuesday, July 24, at 11:59 PM. Good luck!

It was an hour past midnight in the city of Radasanth. Corone’s nightlife, an invitation to the thrill-seekers and ill-doers of Althanas, was only just beginning. The music was loud, driven by fast drums and energetic guitar strummers that pounded to the beat of the flashing lights, filling each of downtown Radasanth’s clubs with rhythm.

The music was distant background noise to Luc, who remembered a time when he participated in that scene. Now it was below him. He no longer needed to put any effort toward bedding a woman, so blending in with the crowd and impressing them with tricks was a task he could now avoid.

His ability to brainwash a woman presented a new problem, however. When Luc needed a fuck, he got it near-instantly, when it used to take time to get a woman drunk enough to have him. Now he had too much free time, and as much as Luc enjoyed the study of magic – he still had dozens of tomes to read through – it was not a study he could lose himself in for an entire night.

So his time on this cool Radasanth night was spent at the edge of a dock, the calming sound of the sea Luc’s only preoccupation. He was in meditation, thinking deeply of his role in Audeamus and where he would head next. His feet dangled under the dock, kicking back and forth in childish restlessness.

There was something bitter in the wind this evening, a cold taste or a stale flavour that seemed to wash up against his face as he trekked the distance to the piers. He was passing through the end of the city, leaving the shouts and the songs of the people all behind him. The air inside the great walls of Radasanth had been flavoured by frothy drinks and steaming food. It was though they had been synthesized by some greater being to make the whole town more appealing to the wandering soul. Trying to convince you to stop by and hang your hat for a little while. Who knows? Perhaps you'd like it there.

Once on the outside of the city the wind turned bitter. The merriment of the people held no power outside the walls. Here is where their songs ended and the real world opened up, leaving one to their own deeds and fortunes. It was a similar bitterness to the autumn winds that snuck in before the summer was over. Signifying to the whole land that the days of summer play would end and the harvest was soon to begin. The wind chilled the sweat that stuck to his forehead, almost feeling like a paste in his hair and eyebrows. His stride was almost a march, as after a long night he was now closing in on his goal. He had spent many hours giving people a description of the geomancer, and now he was walking down the final trial. After this battle, he'd have what they wanted. After he did this, he'd be freed of his questions and anxieties. There was only one, simple thing that he had to do tonight in order to finish his tasks, and get what he desired.

He was to Kill Luc Kraus, and return with his heart.

The memories played through Solomon's mind. Giving him a nauseous feeling in his stomach, like thick slime running down the back of his throat. He gritted his teeth, and felt the sweat grow ever colder as his feet pushed him onwards towards his inventible encounter. He had failed to get the crystal shard from the girl Khalxaen, she had escaped before he could grab it. How stupid he felt after that! The two old sages who kept sending him on these quests were even more unimpressed then he was, and they let him know it. For the first time since they hired him, Solomon felt their fury. Normally he would have turned his back on them and walked away, but for the shame he was feeling for being beaten by the young girl. Making him determined once again to prove he was not a failure. The tiny little ray of hope was now about to be snatched away unless Solomon would do the only thing to compensate the loss of the crystal. Bring them the heart of Luc, an element of great power, from a drifter whom nobody would miss.

The winds rolled over him once again as he came to the peak of a small hill. The brilliant moon came and went as the clouds were pushed on by, and the stars shone lazily through as the clouds migrated east with the wind. The piers were in sight now, and with it, a little speck against the murky horizon. Luc was there, sitting on his lonesome. It looked as though he awaited a phantom ship to come parading into the harbour, and bring back to him something he had lost. Whatever his reasons were, Solomon would not think of them. He was here to murder the man, and if he dared think about it anymore he'd probably loose his strength. Everything in his life right now rode on this very encounter, he wasn't about to let it go.

The winds rippled in his clothes once last time, and his bushy hair tangled around the sides of his head. The time had come, and the battle was imminent. With the carving knife and the insulated bag clipped to his belt Solomon narrowed his eyes into the distance. It was time to fight, just for one last time. After it was over he’d have all he needed, he wouldn’t have to do the bidding of these strangers anymore. He was as free man. Free of himself, and free of others.

Still scowling against the wind, Solomon approached the docks. Luc Kraus would not be leaving here this night.

A helpful thing, the wind. It came to Luc’s nose, deliberately carrying upon it the scent of an approaching man. The mage’s eyebrow rose – most men knew better than to approach him, considering his recent track record. It had only been three days since the Saucy Spoon was reduced to ash, after all.

“You risk much by approaching me” he said, slowly rising from his position. Turning, the mage straightened his pants, tunic and cape, taking a thoughtful breath in. The sea air was cleansing to his spirit, setting him at ease.

Luc regarded him, slowly. Solomon stood at the very edge of the grass, just before the wood of the dock began to stretch out over the water. He had the gait of a man with purpose, and a steely look in his eye that betrayed his intentions. Luc had seen it so many times before, in the Citadel, in the streets, even in his fellow Audeamus members. It was a comfortable night, and he was enjoying his relaxation – it was not the ideal time to strip a man to his skeleton, regardless of how quickly Luc could do it. He was feeling merciful, if nothing else.

“Your eyes tell me why you’ve come. How much are you being paid? What kind of information did they give you, that I was a mage?” Luc rolled his eyes. “A plethora of assassins have come for my head, my heart, my throat, and they’ve all been ash since.”

His ring blazed, but only for a hot second. The ring craved blood, as it always did when Luc’s blood began to boil, but he and the item settled quickly.

He sighed, quickly losing his charitable mood. The water crashed loudly against the dock’s supports, seeming to grow more violent as the playful smile on Luc’s face grew. It splashed on the dock, flooding the wooden surface between Solomon and his target. As quickly as the water spread, it froze, creating a slippery surface of two-dozen feet between the two men. Behind Solomon, naturally, the grass retained its friction.

“Come or go, then. Either way, you will not waste another moment of my time.”

The moon's light dared to peek down on them from her place behind the tattered clouds, two thirds full and shimmering off the ice like a frosty mirror. Luc Kraus stood in his trivial glory, asserting himself against the backdrop of the dark ocean waves and the fleeting clouds as they met one another on the horizon; lining up with the mage's waste line. He was not afraid, threatened, or even angered that Solomon had come for his life. He was ready for him. Ready and waiting with a smile on his face. He wasn't just prepared to fight him off, but actually seemed to be looking forward to a battle.

Solomon dared not move, not wanting to take his boots from the grass, not wanting to cross the point of no return. How the mage had sensed him coming was peculiar, but not that surprising to him. Even the trick with the sheet of ice was impressive, but even that was not enough to keep the warrior at bay. It was his Eyes of Life technique, the energy sensing skill that his friend Rakiet had taught to him just over a year ago. Just by hearing Luc's words he could see the strength within him, but there was a moment where Luc's true power flared up and showed itself far more clearer than words or magic. There was a flicker of light from his hand, a ring or some other trinket that responded to his will. The man's power was impeccable, almost invincible. Suddenly he felt not as though he was standing before some mage on the end of a rickety pier, but instead was standing against an entire army. Alone on the battlefield. Their cried to war rattling the earth.

I have to do this... Was all he could think. He knew he was outmatched, but it didn't mean he could not win. Inside of him was a power that was just as capable. Not yet as potent, but just as capable. Still though, this was not going to be like any other battle. His strength, his speed, and his energy would not be able to win this on their own. He had to think of a way to best him, to confuse or to manipulate him. If he could get close enough to him he could break him in four pieces before the mage could even conjure up his next spell. The only question was, could he even get near him?

His eyes stayed bent, and his breathing crackled through his clenched teeth. He was not going to back out of this, he needed this. Live or die, he was going to see this through. Too long he had been laying dormant, searching and wondering. It was time to end it, he deserved his chance at peace. After all he had been through, the enemies he had toppled and the people he had saved, it was his turn for solace. It was only fair.

Solomon stepped onto the dock, his stomach tightening and his heart beginning to sound in his chest. His boots made two quiet thumps on the wood, but echoed over again in his mind. It was as if the sound alone sealed him inside this fray, the move had been made and his position was clear. He was not going to back down. He wasn’t even going to answer Luc’s remarks. He was just here to fight, and get it over with. The only question was, how did he begin?

There was over twenty feet of slick ice between him and Luc Kraus, who just stood there with his frolicking cape and a smile on his face. Playful was a good way to describe it, but not in its eager or gleeful sense. It had the darkness, and the delight of a child who much prefers feeding mice to his pet cat while all the other children play with sticks in the park. What powers he possessed, Solomon could only assume. The only thing he knew for certain was that they were great.

One of the fortunes of knowing Luc's strength was that he knew to be careful. His greatest advantage was his strength, rivalled closely by his speed. If he could find a way to get close to the man he might be able to hurt him, but what kinds of things could this mage do to prevent him from coming?

Solomon's mind worked hard to scope out the surroundings, all the while just standing there on the foot of the pier. There was no doubt that Luc was growing impatient with him, but he'd have to make the next move. Solomon wasn't ready. Not just yet.

Luc’s ability to hold his temper was severed. Solomon’s moment of decision had passed, his steps too slow. The wind about him died down, setting his dancing cape to rest.

“Look at how frightened you are,” he said in a mocking tone, as if he were speaking to a child. Somehow, that always made these experiences easier for Luc. “I feel badly for you, looking as frail as you do, afraid to cross a simple surface of ice. It’s alright, I can kill you from here.”

Long ago, the mage was notorious in the Citadel for underestimating his opponents, leading to a few embarrassing losses and one tie in a fight he should have dominated against the rock star, Brock Rundgren. As irritated as those experiences had been, with time they had forged a more precautionary Luc Kraus, who had learned to see beyond the flesh. After all, with the exception of his clothes, Luc’s appearance didn’t hint at the magical power he held within.

It was with this in mind that he cast Stoneskin, an enchantment that covered the mage in a faint green aura that would absorb three attacks, regardless of their power – or lack thereof.

Luc’s stance went from relaxed to rigid, as he extended his hands to his left and closed his eyes, conjuring a powerful wind. In a swift movement, he washed his hands over to his right, bringing with them a surging gust with the force of several hundred pounds. The idea was the push Solomon into the water, where Luc would have a very simple time making the remainder of the man’s life miserable. With ice below him and such a strong wind, Luc didn’t think Solomon had a choice in the matter.

If you can't destroy the man, destroy the world around him. The phrase suddenly came back to his mind. Although he had no idea where he had heard it, or who it was who said it to him, it came back to him at just the right time. Luc was untouchable at this point, he needed to take out his security, his foundations. Destroy the dock and send him tumbling into the waters below. Sure, he may have some affinity to water, but from the high ground he could shower him with his eradication beam and hurl the splintered planks into his head like javelins. If he threw a brick against a stone wall the object would explode into thousands of pieces. A hefty plank of wood on the mage's skull would probably take his head right off.

Solomon knew what he had to do, the manoeuvres revealing themselves to him in his moment of decision, all the while Luc talked him down and mocked him. He didn't much care to hear what the mage had to say, he knew he had to act quickly. The dock was relatively small, not made to moor ships or heavy buoys. Instead it seemed suited for fishermen and trappers who couldn’t afford a boat to the deepest parts of the ocean. It rocked with the waves, and at it's farthest stood about twenty-five feet above the ocean's rolling face. There were four pillars holding it up, each a little more than five feet from one another, then it jutted out for a few feet where no more supports were needed. That was where Luc now stood, and the portion Solomon had to destroy.

He didn't need to think it out thoroughly, for once the plan came to his mind the whole thing unravelled like an old dream suddenly remembered. He couldn't get to the fourth pillar, that brought him too close to Luc and the man obviously had means to defend himself. However, he could move to takeout both third pillars and Luc wouldn’t see it coming. Believing instead that he was charging for him. One heavy kick would dislodge it from it's nails, or two kicks might send enough force to knock it right over. After that he could fall back to the second pillars and take them out. The centre of the dock wouldn't be able to hold the weight up with the ocean rocking against it, and it would crumble into the sea. If the weight of it didn't take down Luc's pillars then at least he could attack him from the distance, throwing objects and shooting his energy blasts. This was it! It was perfect!

However, as the plan came to mind and his eyes pierced the distance he felt an evident change in the man's energy, similar to what he had done when he created the ice. The winds that chilled him silenced themselves, suddenly afraid of what was next. Luc Kraus heaved his hands out in front of him, as though Solomon was a smear on an invisible pane of glass that he could just wipe away. Not even a second later did Solomon hear the whistling of the wind as it darted over the pillars and kissed the surface of the ice. Instinctively he fell to the ground, spreading himself out over the ice and looking for something to grip. The surface stung his hands, the damp sweat immediately merging with it. Although that was nothing compared to the gust that came over him. Immediately he was slicked off to his left, the ocean ten feet below the dock from this point. He thought he could slow himself down by letting his hands drag for friction, but it was impossible. The gust was too strong and to fast. His hands were ripped from the ice, and his body spiralled along the glossy surface. The wind screamed over his ears like a phantom fiend, but still, it was short lived. And Solomon knew where he was heading.

He reached out for the top of the pillar, the tops which stuck out by one half of a foot. He pulled himself in towards it with his great strength, but the wind was still riding over him and forced his body against the wooden saviour with a quiet thud.

Luc had made his move. Now it was time for his. The bitterness began to swell up inside of him once more, almost like a laugh of certainty. He could do this now. He'd see this man fall. The only thing that would stop him would be death itself.

His first target was only ten feet away, and with his speed and strength working together Luc wouldn't know what was happening until it was too late. Immediately Solomon flexed his powerful legs, and in a sudden spring of might he rocketed along the ice, nothing in his way to slow him down. He fired off diagonally towards the third pillar on the right. He arrived, spun around without stopping as his hands gripped the edges of the dock to stop himself from sliding back. He didn't bother seeing what Luc was doing, or how he'd react. He didn't have a second to waste. His boot sent a thunder through the pillar. The wood whined as if woken from a thousand year slumber, and in a flurry of splinters the nails were exposed and the pillar rocked back in its place.

His heart pounding and his breath burning the back of his throat, Solomon kicked off from the exposed wood and shot towards the left pillar. If Luc was about to strike then he had no time to stop. It wouldn't be long before the mage caught on to what he had planned, and so Solomon's only hope was to move fast enough to avoid any intervention that Luc Kraus may have in waiting.

On a surface with no friction, Solomon’s desperate drop was amusing to behold, pulling an amused chuckle from deep within Luc’s throat. The man fought hard, but the mage hesitated to use the word valiantly in description of a man sliding on ice. As quickly as the gust began, Luc allowed it to die down, a silent reward to Solomon for sacrificing his dignity for the fight. “Oh, how charming your determination is!” he breathed.

Luc took a moment to stand with his arms crossed, watching curiously the sliding man. This was quickly becoming the strangest assassination – or random assault – attempt he’d ever experienced.

As Solomon struck the second pillar, sending the dock into a shake that threatened to send it plummeting into the depths below, Luc understood. This time, he could not hold back a barking laugh, tilting his head back to let the expression escape. “Your strength impresses me, man, but what do you think you will accomplish by collapsing this platform?”

Rather than explain the source of his amusement, Luc decided to present Solomon with it – whenever he decided to look over, anyhow. With hardly a thought, a swift current swept under Luc and lifted him a few feet from the dock’s surface, a simple levitation that he had long, long ago learned to create. Solomon was only hurting himself by attempting to destroy the dock.

“You mercenary-types really need to inform yourselves more if you ever expect me to die.”

In a flash, Luc drew the Slykrit Blade. In response to his mental command, the crimson steel erupted into roaring flames, flames the mage could easily manipulate.

He pulled the sword back, gripping the handle in both gloved hands before swinging it in a wide horizontal arc. The fire shot forth in a curved line, roaring across the deck and setting it ablaze on its way toward Solomon, a ravenous wave of destruction that would carry on past the dock and to the edge of town, if Luc concentrated on it.

Keep it up, you're doing it! You're doing it! Solomon egged himself on, a sly grin crawling up over his lips, reviving the thin lines of self satisfaction that had once marked his cheeks like dimples. The sound of the second pillar, cracking and moaning against the ruckus below, sounded better to him now than an entire hall of kings shouting his name and paying him homage. The mage housed power like none other, but even then he could not match Solomon's speed or strength. He had come up with the perfect strategy, and Luc Kraus would be soon to fall.

He flipped back over his shoulder and pressed his feet against the small slab of un-iced wood he had just revealed when he pushed the pillar away. The whole dock began to sway and groan, but he just laughed inside himself and felt his power pulse through his legs like lightning. The left and right pillars on the second row, the easiest and safest of the two rows, were the only ones left. Luc probably knew what he intended by now, there was no way the mage could be that dim, but even if he tried to run back to land Solomon could cut him off. He'd have the pillars downed before he could make it past him. The man couldn't run on ice! His own trick had trapped him, while making it much easier for Solomon to slide around!

His back whisked silently along the smoothed surface that Luc had forged. Zooming from target to target like a sleek black missile. However, his smile began to fade as he realized that Luc was getting ready to take counter measures. He could hear his voice, although he couldn't hear what he was saying., he was beginning to realize what he was doing.

Is he laughing? Solomon suddenly realized. For a moment he wanted to stop and check out what was happening. What was wrong? However, he was determined to finish this, as quickly as possible. It had to work! It was working! The whole place was about to come down around him. He couldn’t really be laughing could he?

With his teeth gnashing, and his voice growling Solomon hurled his boot out towards the second pillar on the left hand side of the dock. However, there was something inside his mind now that seemed to sap his strength. Although the wood crackled and groaned, it did not part from the edge of the dock. It just sat there, the whole structure swaying with the waves below. Luc was laughing at him! Something wasn't right. Although he fought against it, he couldn't help turning his head over his shoulder. Why was Luc laughing? He hadn't found a way around this. No. He couldn't have! He was twice as fast as Luc, everything was in his favour. Nevertheless, as he prepared to raise his boot once again and finish what he had begun his foot stayed in place and his eyes sank back into the pits of his skull. Luc Kraus was hovering above the dock. The mage could fly!

There were no time for regrets. The fraction of a second that he had been given he had used up just realizing what had happened. In the blink of an eye Luc's terrible power flourished once again. However, it was no longer for show like he had done earlier. He now had every intention to show Solomon what he was truly capable of. In a great burst of fire, from a sword that he hadn't even seen Luc draw, the dock and the ice erupted in a crucible fire. A blaze that consumed the dock like a box of matchsticks. What he had been trying to do over the course of several seconds the fire did almost instantly.

"Curse you... Luc Kraus... Curse you." The words passed through his lips, less than a whisper. He pushed with his feet, the fire screaming on towards him like a stampede of terrorized horses. His great muscles sent him soaring across the ice once again, even though he knew there was only one place he'd be safe, he still knew it was game over from there. The mage had some affinity to the ocean waters. Solomon would be falling into the palm of his hand.

Was it worth it? Was all this really worth dying over? The words played through his mind, speaking with the same mocking tone as Luc had done. There was a scraping underneath him as his torso bent back in search of solid ground. Then only a moment later the dock was gone from under him. The fire, so eager to consume him, tried desperately to catch up with him just as he left it's world. One second before his body had left the dock Luc's violent hellfire seared under him and set the material on his legs and boots into a blaze, and burned with him all the way down to the ocean.

"No, this is not over! This is not over! I worked to hard for this!" Solomon raged against his inner self, only receiving the same mocking tones in return. The fire on his body was beginning to make itself known now. And as his skin began to scream, warning him of it's immediate danger, he broke into the body of the ocean; the flames fading to its awesome darkness.

"No, I can still do this, I can still win this!" Solomon protested through his clenched teeth, kicking against the cold below him. He refused to stay down, and pushed his way back to the surface; protruding from the surface like some old discarded buoy. He ignored the stinging of the water, and the pain in his legs. All of it added to his fury, and still desperate to succeed he used it to prime up his internal energy. The moment he saw Luc, he let out his angry cry. In a flash of blue he fired off his 'fatal vision' beams. Luc would feel his sting yet!

In the wake of the fiery arc, the dock stood ablaze, covered in orange flames that grew and grew as they were fed. Shortly after the wave of flames died down – a mental command from Luc was all it took - the dock collapsed into the water, the debris missing Solomon thanks solely to his luck.

Bending just slightly, the current of wind under Luc carried him around the remains of the wooden platform, dipping him lower toward the water, drawing near to Solomon. Smoke rose, wafting up from blackened stumps of wood that jutted upward from the water. The wind blew it aside as Luc hovered through, cape drifting behind him like a macabre superhero. The horrible blade continued to burn in his right hand.

A bright blue erupted from Solomon’s bobbing head, a powerful hissing accompanying the rays as they shot forth. They moved fast, snaking forward like javelins, striking Luc’s Stoneskin barrier. Light swerved around him like running bolts of lightning, but the enchantment held out against the assault – Luc felt not even the slightest bit of impact. The only negative effect, he figured, was not knowing whether the attack had taken one or two layers off of Stoneskin.

“Impressive! If I were a bumbling twit, that might have hurt me,” the mage scoffed, his ego growing more influential as the minutes went by.

The Slykrit Blade’s flames disappeared then, extinguished a mere moment before Luc sheathed the weapon. He flew closer to Solomon, rising up so that he was at least a dozen feet above and beyond the man. Luc wanted to see the beams before they came, if Solomon dared use them again.

“You haven’t said a word to me yet. Aren’t you interested in begging for your life? I might let you live if you tell me who hired you, so I can incinerate their innards instead of yours. Of course, that is your choice to make.”

Solomon had been right to try avoiding the water – Luc’s power over the ocean placed the would-be assassin firmly under the mage’s control. To demonstrate, Luc swirled his hands in a circle, creating waves that danced around Solomon in an effort to hold him in place. Of course, Solomon’s strength would be great enough to allow him to power out of his situation if he wanted to, but the effort could potentially exhaust him; at least that’s what Luc thought. The mage, however, knew nothing of Solomon’s stamina.

The waves, similarly, exposed nothing about the extent of Luc’s power over water. Both fighters had cards up their sleeve. The difference would be how many cards Luc needed to produce – and he had many to choose from.