Round One starts at 12:00 AM EST on Sunday, April 30th and will last two weeks. Good luck!
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Round One starts at 12:00 AM EST on Sunday, April 30th and will last two weeks. Good luck!
In the heart of southeastern Lornius, the Shingo Mountain range towered over the rest of the continent. The Lotho mountains had made a valiant effort to match their peaks during their geological development, but the Shingos had snagged a good few millennias' headstart, putting them about twenty meters ahead. From a ledge on one of the greater range's many peaks, an individual stood. Though the view was excellent, he was not surveying the Central Valley, the vast tract of land below. Despite that the Floating City greatly interested the individual and that it was perhaps most majestic from that very spot, it was not the target of his fervent gaze. His attention was instead focused entirely on the peculiar structure off in the distance. Circled at its base by jagged rocks and rising high enough to be seen beyond even the Lotho range, the Tower of Terrinore stood defiantly out at sea. Normally, the skyscraper would have held only a passing fancy for the watcher; it was quite an achievement, but large things rarely impressed him. It had so captivated him because it shared a name with one of the tournament's competing teams, the Sons of Terrinore. And there was really only one reason for that, which the watcher then chose to share with all who cared to listen: "Thoracis..."
The boy was convinced that the man he'd selected as his rival was at that very moment doing battle in the tower, alongside his partner, Marx Dicks, or whatever. He had been grossly disappointed when the random drawing had placed their teams so far apart. Not because he expected any difficulty in reaching his adversary, or in his adversary reaching him, but because there would be a few days' delay between each fight. And how could he be so confident? Why, he was Jannin Relm, of course. He'd been forced to accept that someone could be more powerful than him when Thoracis had so soundly cleaned his clock. But what were the odds of that happening twice? "Pretty damn good," according to virtually every gambling spectator; when the opposing team has both the legendary former prince Letho Ravenheart and the illustrious Zieg dil’ Tulfried, you just don't bet on a team called 'The Rookies.'
So convinced was he of his team's imminent victory that Jannin had not even bothered to check his opponents' names. They had called themselves 'Strength and Honor,' which had seemed an incredibly good sign to the lad. After all, strength could be toppled by cunning, which Jannin believed he had in abundance, and honor could be thwarted by sneakiness, which was not above the boy. It was rather unfortunate that he had refused to have any communication with Alan; his partner's wizened mentor would probably have happily granted him the advantage of knowing his adversaries. However, the geezer had passed over the lad's suggestion of, 'Jannin's Crimson Flame,' to register them under the name, 'The Rookies.' The injustice of it still made the lad bristle. No, he corrected himself, taking a breath, You do not bristle. Bristling is something wild boars do. Wild boars are creatures you don't wanna equate yourself with. You... quake with righteous indignation. Yeah. That's what you do. So, he decided to tuck away his feelings of rage until he needed them, ensuring that a later outburst of righteous indignation would be just a little more indignant.
Turning on his heels, he walked toward the envisioned battle site: a large, relatively flat stretch of red earth, peppered with rocks and rock formations of all sizes. From his position, the ground tilted downward at a slight incline. To the right, a great wall stretched until it hurt to strain his neck, while a horrifying drop lay on the left. The boy was confident a fall wouldn't come into play; his perception of his own strength combined with Blank's could very well end everything within a minute of the battle's beginning without either 'rookie' breaking a sweat. Jannin was convinced of this scenario. All fights until his Thoracis rematch were but stepping stones.
After about ten minutes more of waiting, he wiped his brow and frowned. ... Bored... passed through his mind. As though echoing off the wall in a vast, cavernous room, ... Booooored... soon followed. Jannin had been waiting for over an hour and a half, and he had seen neither hide nor hair of his ally or foes. His frustration would probably have abated slightly had he bothered to check the bout's scheduled time: he had arrived almost two hours' early. Yet another valuable bit of info he'd have probably learned had he not ended speaking terms with Alan.
"But why do I have to stay home, papa? You ALWAYS take me with you when you go and fight in tournaments. Why must I stay behind this time?" the small platinum haired child had demanded to know. Together, the boy, Kaza, and his father were on their way to the castle in Vainta, where Kaza would spend the tournament with his close friend newly crowned King Aidos. The king's father, King Theos kar' Atron, had been assassinated just months earlier, and now his son, a young nine years of age, was being forced to make decisions about a nation under the guidance of very close advisors.
Though younger than the demon child, Kaza seemed to have wisdom beyond his years, partially due to the powers that had been granted to him by the Destiny Element. Since Zieg dil' Tulfried, High General of the Demon Army of Haidia, was not going to be here to talk the young king out of any rediculous decisions, he needed Kaza here to keep an eye on him, and he told his son exactly that.
"Aww, come on. Can't grumpy old Zaketh do that?" he asked, referring to General Zakath ag' Dinmos. Zieg shook his head and ushered the boy through the massive door into the main entry of the castle. He knelt before the child on the tiled floor, his armored knee clanking on the hard tile. The hulking demon placed his hands on the half-demon's shoulders.
"Look, Kaza, I need you here, okay? I will send you updates between each round, and if I make it to the finals, I will bring you with me. Right now, though, I need you here with Aidos. I love you, Kaza." He hugged the child then stood and turned away, walking from the castle.
"Good luck, dad."
~~~~~~~~
A few days later, Zieg and his closest companion, Xeppa, found themselves in Lornius, the island which was home to the Lornius Corporate Challenge. Together, Letho Ravenheart and he would be fighting together against other two person teams with great hopes that they would be victorious over their opponents. Xeppa, a small brown dog which could transform into a massive Magim Beast, was coming along to lend a hand when necessary.
He had been informed that the battle would occur in the Shingo Mountains which stretched across the core of Lornius. In the distance, one could see the floating city, and even further, the Tower of Terrinore. The sights in Lornius truly were one of a kind.
As he made his way up the steep slopes of the particular mountain where he was to fight, donned in his familiar black and blue titanium armor, he began to focus his mind on the goal he wished to accomplish in this tournament. He wanted to win, pure and simple. He wanted to fight to the best of his ability, with honor and all of his strength. He would not be happy without being victorious.
As he and Xeppa finally made their way to the top of the ledge where the fight would be, they found one of their competitors was already present. He knew very little about the team designated 'The Rookies', but as always would come into the fight with an open mind about what his opponents could do. He would be neither cocky, nor overconfident about his own abilities, instead relying on his own strengths to get him through the battle.
After the unbelievable forfeit in the final round of Serenti Invitational, Myrhia and Letho did what they agreed to do – they talked. At the commencement it was a walk on eggshells, a trial and error trip through the minefield of topics that had connotations of his betrayal and the reasons that stood behind it. The dialogue was far from smooth, the pauses made of uncomfortable silence appearing more often the words of wisdom. And though both tried to reconstruct something that was turned to shambles by his derisory actions, they were walking in circles, unripe for the risk needed for the first step. So they finally gave up on it.
However, they refused to give up on each other.
Reconstruction wasn’t their solution. Mending a broken heart was like trying to piece a shattered window – even if you manage to do it, the final product was never as strong as the original, offering a distorted image. No, their relationship didn’t need reconstruction, it needed rebirth. It needed to go as far back as those initial days, when Letho was looking for his life in the murky surface of some random stream in Scara Brae and she was afraid to present the emotions that grew within her. They went back to square one, ascertained, palavered, weighed and measured, asked and answered, and ultimately reached a compromise.
He wouldn’t change. She wouldn’t change either. Some things are written in blood, manifestos of all that a person was, a collection of the values, rules and all the tiny quirks that made an individual just that; an individual. But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t strive to change, that they couldn’t make every day a quest to fit better with the other. People weren’t pieces of puzzle that had only one spot in the picture. People could bend without breaking, adapt without yielding, love all the irksome things about the other. That was what true affection was all about. It was easy to love when the world was a flowery paradise and things ran smoothly. But to compromise, to sacrifice for the other without ever speaking of it, to hold on tight when the storm was raging... Only genuine affection could survive that.
So when the announcement for the Lorinus Corporate Challenge spread through all the civilized lands of Althanas, Myrhia and Letho talked again. She knew that his mind was preoccupied with the idea of participation, so she decided to act preemptively. Their palaver lasted throughout the night and ultimately they reached an agreement. She knew fighting was what he did, the aspect of his life that he honed to perfection, and that to deny it would be to deny the very essence of him. So she gave him a green light. However, her approval came with a price. He had to promise to never give in to his rage. His rage stood at the root of the betrayal, his bloodlust clouding his judgment and nearly extinguishing the fire that burned between them, and she wanted him to work on eliminating that from his arsenal. Letho swore on his dead father that he would stay true to her desire.
***
“Well, this was certainly a good idea.” Letho commented bitterly as his eyes gazed into the abyss below his feet. He was hanging off the edge of a cliff that overlooked the Central Valley, his fingers holding to the flimsy leverage that the Shingo Mountains offered. When he heard that he would face a team called The Rookies, the swordsman saw no reason why he wouldn’t work on his cliff-climbing skills that got forgotten during his years of Althanas while reaching the designated battlefield. Jump over some rocks, claw up some ridges... It sounded like a good warm-up for what would probably be a letdown battle. Especially since his partner was Zieg dil’ Tulfried. He and Letho killed a sea behemoth Hydra a while ago. A team of greenhorns seemed like small potatoes.
“You have to reach the site first though.”
The fingers of his gauntleted left clenched to the rock face a bit harder, testing it once to make sure it could support his weight. Once he was relatively certain in the integrity of his leverage, his right took a length of rope that hung at his hip. His keen eyes calculated the distance to the next ridge, noticing a protruding rock that hung over the chasm. He put the far end of the rope between his teeth, his right spinning the noosed end twice before letting it fly. The rope wrapped around the stone clumsily, but ultimately yielded to his desires, fastening itself to the outlet. He looked down towards the valley and the squiggly line that veered through it like a serpent hundreds of paces below his current position. He looked up at the fastened rope. Such a thin line between success and a red smear on the mountain.
One meaty hand over the other, the swordsman ascended until he finally reached the ridge. There was no spectacular crack of the outlet at the last second, no rope slowly unfastening itself; that only happened in cheap novels. He was, however, slightly surprised by the figure that his eyes noticed on the far end of the plateau.
“Strange. He must be a messenger or something.” Letho thought as he rolled his rope neatly and set it at the ground before he stepped forwards. The child that stood in the shadow of the mighty Shingo peaks was just tall enough for Letho to be able to comfortably eat from the top of his head. With peculiar violet hair and a staff far too large for his crummy physique, the boy looked almost like a caricature. The swordsman readjusted his gunblade and straightened his leather coat before speaking across the small field in an amiable tone.
“Hello there. You don’t happen to know where a person can find a good battle around here? I’m looking for some rookies.”
Blank wasn’t sure what he was doing, climbing a cliff to what would most likely be his grave. It wasn’t just that he was a contestant with little battle experience and that his two opponents were some of the greatest heroes Althanas had seen. It was everything else that made him question his own actions. He was, by his own volition, repeating the mistake of the Citadel.
Not too long ago, he was in a match much like this one. The battleground had even been the same, high up in the mountains with the chance of falling to his death becoming higher as he climbed. His opponent was nearly identical to the boy he called his partner. He was young, and most likely a little less than sane.
Yes, and he had lost that battle due to the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to beating a kid who was pouting about him not being a good guest. Who knew? Maybe having the slightly crazy kid on his side would give him the win. Then again, he may be a splotch on the ground far below by that time.
He had been climbing for a good while, taking the longer, though much safer path. He had been told he could climb the face of the cliff, and had even been offered rope to help in the ascent. That, though, was nothing more than an accident waiting to happen. He would have more than enough chances to fall when he got to the top. No sense in making the chances greater by tempting fate.
As he continued to trudge on, he thought about what Alan had told him of the two great heroes he was facing. Letho Ravenheart was one of the greatest heroes to walk the soil of Althanas. He had been through some of the greatest hardships, and had even made it to the top of the latest Serenti Invitational. He had done battle with great monsters and been through more adventures than Blank could imagine.
Zieg dil’ Tulfried was the great general of the Haidian army. He was a man who had been killed and resurrected at least twice over and had lived through just as many adventures as the great Letho.
Any man in Blank’s position would be utterly out of his mind with fear at having to face these two. It wasn’t that Blank wasn’t scared, he was terrified of course, but his terror was held in check by a wondering hope. Could these two great heroes help him in his cause?
He had been told by a mage in the library of Sereza that competing in the LCC would put him in proximity with people than knew the inner workings of Althanas. These two were most definitely part of that group, just as much of the LCC was. Could they know how to unseal the book? Or better yet, be able to unseal it themselves?
He smiled as he came up to the flat ground that would be there battlefield. He was letting his mind wander off again. He was doing that a lot lately. And just like those other times, he was shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts.
Looking around, he saw that he was the last to arrive. The great man in the titanium armor could be none other than Zieg dil’ Tulfried. The other man just coming up from the cliff wall had to be Letho Ravenheart. The man was braver than he.
The only other person around was a small boy. A child that Blank knew was most likely a little off the deep end, and definitely a little ego-centric. He was also the only one who would be helping Blank against his two great opponents.
If he lived through this, he was going to kill Alan.
* * *
The old coot was actually within a stone-throws distance from the young man. Alan wasn’t about to let the boy out of his sight, and while he wanted Blank to compete, to get a look at some of the greatest Althanas had around, he didn’t want him dead. He wouldn’t have to worry about it in this match he knew. Zieg dil’ Tulfried and Letho Ravenheart were known for just what their team name announced. Strength and Honor.
He was more hear to watch just how badly Blank would get beaten. Watching the young Janin try and intimidate these two into submission, something the old man knew the boy was sure to do, was also sure to be quite a funny sight.
Yes, the boy would definitely make this a battle worth watching. He had no idea of his opponent’s power. Alan had offered to enlighten him, but the boy’s sensitive ego had refused him. It was all over a simple name, for pete’s sake, and the boy was probably on the warpath against him. Yes, the boy would regret not using him for information. If he had, he wouldn't have been there two hours before the prescribed time, something that Alan had watched, having climbed to his perch a little after dawn.
He didn’t have anything to worry about from his perch high up the cliff wall. If anyone somehow spotted him, the person was probably not paying attention to his opponents latest attacks, something that he would come to regret.
Even so, he didn't want to take any chances with those such as Zieg dil' Tulfried and Letho Ravenheart. In order to make sure he wasn't spotted, he had paid a local magician for a strong invisibility spell, and would be utterly unseeable for something close to a day.
Hunkering down and watching the four combatants, Alan prepared for what could be an interesting battle.
After some time of doing nothing, Jannin had grown tired of waiting and taken to jabbing at stones with his staff. Unfortunately for him, watching them roll a short ways downhill did little to alleviate his boredom. Following one such rock with his eyes, however, brought his attention to the large man that had just arrived. The heavily-armored individual was certainly an imposing sight, but the boy wasn't worried; after staring into the eyes of Thoracis, he would not be intimidated so easily. In fact, all the armor encouraged the boy: He's coming out here, covered with all that metal? Ha! It's a wonder the sun hasn't already done my job for me! That Zieg seemed relatively comfortable in the heat failed to register as a bad sign.
Just as Jannin was about to chide the new arrival for his 'tardiness,' a sound drew his attention to the side of a nearby ledge. These noises, likely from some exertion, grew louder for a time, shortly before the second half of Strength and Honor pulled himself onto the ridge. Though marginally smaller than the general, the former prince concerned Jannin only slightly more. Sure, there's not as much actual armor, but the guy's a walking armory! He shouldn't be much faster than his buddy. Besides, black pants with a dark shirt and a black leather jacket? In this heat? Kudos on the matching outfit, but it's a wonder he hasn't passed out yet. The boy smiled at this and mopped his brow lightly, apparently unaware that a midnight blue mantle doesn't qualify as summer-friendly attire.
Before he could say a word to Letho, the man asked, rather politely, where he might find a good battle. Jannin felt the man put a rather unnecessary amount of emphasis on the word 'rookies,' however. Or maybe he just imagined it. Either way, he reacted the same. Though impossible to tell because of the sunlight and his already fair complexion, his left hand had grown a shade whiter, as his grip tightened around his staff. His right hand, meanwhile, appeared to duplicate his left's orientation, twisting into a claw-like shape. As his teeth ground together, his lips pulled back a bit into a light snarl. The claw and snarl might have looked vaguely frightening on some, but, on Jannin, they served only to make him look that much more ridiculous. The boy had also inclined his head, shrouding the upper half of his face with his hair. It was as though his subconscious believed there was sufficient body language to demonstrate how positively livid he was without the aid of his eyes. Through the lad's mind danced thoughts that proved Blank wasn't the only one contemplating homicide over Alan's behavior.
After a moment, however, Jannin caught himself; it wouldn't do to lose his composure in front of the opposing team. Why am I getting so upset? I didn't lose my cool this much when I was thinking earli-- Oh. Right. Guess I withdrew that stored righteous indignation a little sooner than I should have. Hmm... Better lose it. And I know just the way... He took a deep breath and loosened a great many of his tensed muscles, returning his hands and face to normal. Jannin opened his eyes. Darkness. Dah! There must have been too much rage for even me to handle! I've gone blind!! Frantically, he dropped his staff and brought his hands to his face. The momentary panic ceased when his fingertips brushed his hair. ... Oh... Right. Though a tad embarrassed, the boy decided to act as a cat who does something clumsy: act as though you meant it to happen.
The lad then began his proven, though unorthodox, stress relief method. Dropping his left arm to his size, he left his right on his forehead, as though to steady himself. A number of mirthful "Hmm"s quietly escaped his lips. A series of "Heh"s followed, accompanied by a slight shaking of his head with each bit of the chuckle. These then gave way to deeper, slightly louder "Ha"s, and a slight raise of the head. Finally, he threw back his head, sending his hair flying from his face with a flair that can only come from hours upon hours of practice before a mirror, and launched into a proper maniacal laugh, his suddenly adult-timbre echoing slightly off the nearby wall. Ah... That's the stuff.
Much refreshed, Jannin spied his staff, its recent descent halted by a small stone. He took two steps forward and, in the midst of his third, bent his knees and scooped it up with his left hand. The boy concluded the movement with a well-executed twirl that left him pointing his right index finger at Letho while his staff rested out behind him. The pose had been well-rehearsed and, had Jannin possessed an adult frame, it might have made him look somewhat dashing, instead of a little silly. "You want a good fight, do ya?" he called to the Daywalker, his voice flowing with confidence and a smirk plastered on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Blank's arrival. "Well, now that the whole cast's finally assembled, you're gonna get more than ya bargained for!" He let his words hang in the air. Heh... Nailed it.
Zieg stood patiently as the participants in the battle slowly arrived. Letho climbed up the edge of the cliff to his left, taking a considerably more dangerous and difficult route up the mountain than his own. The second of his opponents took a similar route to his own, and arrived shortly thereafter. The first boy, whom Zieg assumed was Jannin Relm, proceeded to spout off at the mouth, making a fool of himself rather than intimidate anyone.
The demon made no effort to make a verbal response, replying instead by drawing the Gamygym and promptly igniting it. His other blade, the Rohtan, stayed hilted at his side. Xeppa followed his master's lead quickly, releasing the negative energy stored inside his body. It enveloped him a dark cocoon, before being shattered by leathery wings. He became a Magim Beast, one of the most feared creatures in Haidia.
Without waiting for a signal from Zieg, he pushed off the ground and opened his wings to their fullest wingspan, a full six feet across. The High General glanced at his tournament partner, the man who had helped him kill a monstrous hydra and save the citizens of Haidia. Both men were honorable and valient, protection being a key aspect of their lives.
"We may have had difficulties in the past, friend, but I feel we both have shown that we of the best intentions. Let us take this tournament by storm, starting with these rookies. Lornius has never felt such raw power ever before!" Zieg faced his two opponents, one appearing to be in his preteen years, the other in his early twenties. Neither had the experience of Zieg or Letho, nor the strength. In all honesty, this battle was over long before it began.
Facing Jannin, Zieg smiled viciously. "Well, boy. You think you can intimidate the High General of the Demon Army? You are, what? Nine? I do not wish to hurt you, boy, but this tournament requires it of me. Hopefully, it will not be too much for you to recover from." The simple sarcasm in his voice should have been enough to provoke his opponent into reacting foolish, if Zieg's interpretation of him was at all correct. Only time would tell if he were right or not.
Without a sound, the demon knight rushed at the flamboyant youngster, exerting much more speed and control than one would expect from someone so large. The pure muscle mass he had allowed him to carry the armor with such ease, almost as if it were not even there. Both hands clutched the Gamygym around the tight leather grip. With a twist of his arms, and an upward swing across the torso of his opponent, the battle had begun.
Even though he promised himself not to make the ever-infamous mistake of lowballing The Rookies, once the shrimpy boy made his hapless introduction and presented himself as today’s opposition, Letho couldn’t suppress a grin. Despite the fragile four-feet-something of physique and some obvious lack of hand-eye coordination, Jannin managed to keep his swelled head up so arrogantly that the swordsman thought any further inflation would make the kid float above the ground. He reeled the oversized staff in an utterly useless motion, the one that appeased the masses and captivated the eyes of the unskilled, but had little or no use in combat. Given the demonstration and the demeanor, it seemed to Letho that he justified the name given to their team.
Juxtaposed to the egoistic lad, his ally was significantly more impressive, but given Jannin’s constitution, that wasn’t saying a whole lot. Still, Blank at least dipped into the far end of the teen ages which consequently enabled him to at least act like he belonged here. His eyes were a giveaway though, delivering the turmoil of emotions on a silver plate to everyone that could read between the lines and decipher what lay beyond the exterior. The boy was both scared and excited - a combination that could make or break a man - and he stood at the brink of the battle that would decide which one would prevail.
Not that it mattered anyways. Once Zieg made his no-nonsense entry and Xeppa turned into a monstrous Magim Beast, the dark swordsman almost felt sorry enough for the two lads to sit back and let his ally deal with this round. Letho would get the next one. But, much to displeasure of the lonewolf blademaster, that was not how this tournament worked. In the Lorinus Corporate Challenge, the emphasis was on the corporate part and there was supposed to be some teamwork in the midst of all that spilled blood and shattered bones. Both Zieg and Letho knew that but regardless of this acknowledgment, it seemed more like the two partnered simply because the rules decreed that there must be two entrants per team.
But now the time arrived for strength and honor to be put to test.
“Old debts are settled as far as I’m concerned.” Letho responded to his companion in a stoic tone, his shoulders slanting mildly, allowing the gunblade to slip from his shoulder and into his right hand. “Let us show to the world what strength and honor can do.”
The monstrous tawny weapon that the swordsman dubbed Lawmaker moved from its stationary position at his side, spinning ardently once with a loud swoosh as his keen perpetually-squinted eyes moved to Blank. The motion was stopped effortlessly, lining the blade with the body of the teenager rookie. “Brace yourself!”
The charge came with a half-second delay after the warning, the sullen swordsman advancing like an unleashed stampede. The gunblade made a half-spin in mid-stride, readjusting itself in such a manner that Letho held it butt first as he executed a horizontal swipe aimed at Blank’s abdomen. The cumbersome dehlar weapon put Letho’s body in a spin at the end of which he protruded his leg and launched a kick aimed at the knee. He hoped that either the killing or the crippling move would find the target.
Blank wasn’t liking how fast his ally wanted the battle to start. They hadn’t even greeted each other. Blank had thought maybe some introductions would occur. He knew Letho and Zieg, but did they know him? Did it matter? Maybe it was easier for them if they didn’t know who they’re victims were.
It was something that Blank had resigned himself to. He was going to try his hardest of course, and maybe he would get a good hit it on one of them, but he was pretty sure both he and Janin were ending here. This wasn’t just another set of nobodies like themselves. These were great heroes, the type that songs would be made of and would be remembered for generations. Blank was a young man with a staff and little skill. Janin… well Janin was… special. Yes that was the word, special. Though that could never be said to him or his ego would be sent into the stratosphere.
From the way things were going, it looked as if Janin had let that ego soar anyway. The little man was playing with fire and this was one that he wouldn’t just spin around in his hands. He watched the boy go into his fits of maniacal laughter and call for the match to begin with a bit of envy. The boy, for his loud mouth and flashy antics, had courage that Blank sadly lacked at the moment.
Blank pulled out his own staff as his opponents exchanged greetings, getting into a position where he could easily move it defensively, and prepared to greet his own ally. He only caught a glimpse of Zieg’s warning and charge on Janin, when Letho began his own.
This was moving way too fast.
Watching the warrior-prince charge him, moving the ponderous gunblade as if it were a small baton, made Blank freeze for a second. Blank could already see it carving through him, or unloading one of those huge bullets through his gut. Half the distance had been erased when Blank finally got to moving, bringing up his worn staff to guard against what looked to be a strike at his stomach. Hs though way too much sometimes.
Blank had blocked many blades through his short travels. He and Alan had been jumped by many bandits on the road and he had decided that defensive fighting was the best, waiting for that perfect strike to appear. He staff, old and worn from use, had many newly made notches in it from six or seven different blades. He was pretty sure it could stop Letho’s blade.
Blank had not fought someone like Letho though. This was man whose strength had been made greater than what most men hoped to reach. This was a man who took great pride in the condition of his weapons. As such, his old staff had no chance against such a weapon controlled in such hands.
He saw it coming as the blade was sweeping in. He could already see the splinters ready to burst, as if his staff was bracing for the impact it could never stop. It came hard and strong, the staff slowing down the impact just enough before cracking in half, that Blank was knocked back by the force.
He fell at Letho’s feet, the blade crossing right where he had stood, his fall helping him to barely missing the kick. Each of his hands now held a half of his staff, splintered where the gunblade had struck it, nigh near a clean cut.
As soon as the warrior-prince’s foot had passed, Blank was scrambling backwards. He had to get to cover, hopefully meet up with Janin. He knew there was a stone behind him. That would help with cover… and could it help in other ways.
Keeping his eyes on Letho, Blank scrambled back as fast as he could, not fast enough if the man started charging him, stubbornly holding onto his pieces of broken staff. “Janin!” he shouted, hoping the boy could hear him, or at least was still alive, “Get to the stones!”
High above him, an old man stared down, shaking his head. Unable to hear the exchanges, Alan already believed Blank’s battle to be a lost one.
Jannin was a little disappointed that his declaration hadn't had more of an effect. Hmm... Bah. These guys are just too musclebound ta appreciate a good taunt. Before he could nod in approval, he turned his attention to the sound of the large armored man drawing a weapon. This didn't surprise the boy, but what it did next certainly did. The blade suddenly coated itself in crimson flames, licking at the dry air above the sword. The fire was a far more impressive sight than Jannin's fireballs had ever been. The boy's smirk vanished as he took a step back. He then frowned at his loss of composure and retook that step as the self-satisfied smile returned. Okay. Didn't see that coming. No biggie. Just work around it. Just as the lad thought this, the ordinary dog he'd given only a passing glance before shrouded itself in darkness. It emerged moments after as quite a different creature. Its teeth and claws had grown to an enormous, fearsome size, while two large brown wings had sprouted on its back, matching its new, leathery hide. At this, Jannin decided taking a step back was a good move after all and, thus, took it. Priding himself on his pattern recognition, he then looked around for what would next become more dangerous. Fortunately, nothing did. Unfortunately, nothing needed to.
Zieg then had a short conversation with his partner. Jannin missed this, too busy convincing himself both feats on the Haidian's side had been no big deal. So he got some two-bit magician to enchant his sword. Whoopdy doo. And I could probably train a dog to do that. Err, if I didn't have more important things to do. He was spared the agony of rationalizing his ridiculous claim when Zieg addressed him. After the word "nine," the boy's temper flared momentarily as he gave his knee-jerk cry of "Fifteen!" The following insult would have probably led the boy to conjure and chuck a fireball at the sneering demon. However, the flow of endorphins from Jannin's cackle and dramatics, dented as it was by the discomfort of Tulfried's abilities and the rage at being called a nine-year-old, left him with a relatively cool head.
In this mindset, the boy noticed Zieg charging up the incline, far more swiftly than the lad would have ever guessed and wielding his blazing sword menacingly. Huh... Feels familiar, somehow... he thought as he backed away. Jannin saw a flash of Thoracis, charging up a hill of melting snow and brandishing an ice-bladed staff. Grr... Stop thinking about Thoracis or you'll never get that rematch! The similarities were certainly striking, though. The boy might not have been able to shake his fascination were he aware that the two knew one another and that Zieg had an arm of flames to match the ice mage's frost-covered limb. Regardless, as the lad continued his advance to the rear, he decided to throw something at his opponent. While not a fireball, he hoped it would still have success. "You need a flaming sword to take me on?" he taunted, "Some general you a-- Agh!" This last bit was in response to the rock he stumbled over. I'm getting sick of tripping on things... he quietly whined. Jannin should have instead been counting his blessings, as he was dangerously close to a cliff's edge. He may well have slipped off had he gone much further.
The fall had slightly disorriented him, but he heard a bang followed by a crack somewhere away from him. Soon after, he heard Blank's voice shout something about "stones." Hope that guy's doing alright... the lad thought. After a few days' travel to Lornius, he had decided he rather liked the young man. Blank rarely disturbed the boy with conversation, and whenever Jannin felt like talking about something, Alan's understudy would undoubtedly offer a large number of silences, which the young mage was all too happy to fill. Though he'd failed to master what Jannin considered the finer points of staffsmanship, he wasn't actually that bad with his weapon. That crack didn't sound too good, though...
After this moment of concern for his team-mate, the boy returned to his predicament: he was lying on his back, almost at the edge of a cliff, while a surprisingly spry, incredibly well-armored demon with a sword veiled in the fires of its wielder's soul charged toward him. Small problem, he assessed. The lad's mind soon hammered out a possible solution, however. "Gonna strike me now?" he asked. Jannin thought he understood the minds of those who would name their team Strength and Honor; they were headstrong men who wouldn't hesitate to level the playing field for an apparently disadvantaged opponent. With luck, the boy's question and earlier taunt would convince Zieg to fight with a normal weapon and wait for the lad to rise. Of course, the kid wasn't completely naive, and so prepared a contingency plan: if the advance continued, he would simply roll out of its way and throw a fireball into Tulfried's face. In theory, it was a good idea. However, it remained to be seen if Jannin would have enough speed to pull it off.
The wind whipped around Zieg's body, tossing his red cape around randomly, as he continued forward toward Jannin's fallen form. He laughed silently as the human attempted to inform him about honor. The demon knight dropped his blade at the boy's chest, stopping it just above his chest. Flames licked at the man's tunic as the tip of the shortsword hovered just inches above his heart, eager to pounce within a second.
"Fool. Honor is not fighting to your opponent's strengths, nor is helping a fallen foe. True honor is fighting to the best of your abilities and never holding back. If I held back and let you up, I would not be fulfilling my duty to give you the best battle possible. You would never have the chance to improve in battle and increase in skill. Equality has no place in battle and no place in honor. Pure strength of will and strength of heart is all that matters."
Though his foe lay just inches below death, Zieg drew back. He took steps back and dropped the flat of his blade on his shoulder. "Still, even though it may not be considered 'honor' does not mean I cannot give you another chance to learn. Please come at me, do your worst and I shall as well. Perhaps, you even have something to teach me." The Haidian general drew the Rohtan, holding it even with the Gamygym out in front of him. Air rotated around the blade wildly, swirling dust and other grime around the osmium blade.
A hawk screeched high in the air as it dove at it's prey, a smaller bird. However, the smaller bird spun away, avoiding the predator's claws. The hawk still had the advantage, but it appeared as though the smaller bird was not willing to give up. Zieg felt this battle would be the same, though he had no idea how it would end. He only hoped Letho was having a more exciting time.
It looked a little bit like trying to hold back a tidal wave with bare hands; no matter what you did it just smiled at you and kept on coming. During his vagabond life Letho Ravenheart found himself in such situations numerous times, confronting superior foes and defying the obliteration they had in store. Those were the old days, the bad days, the do-or-die days. But now... Now he was the tidal wave.
The staff snapped like a dry stick infested with woodworms, the might of the side slash more then enough to disrupt the balance of the youth. The loss of footing came fortunate for Letho’s foe though, the horizontal position enabling him to successfully evade the follow up kick. And for a fraction of a second the window of opportunity was wide open for the blademaster, a chance to put an end to the game at the very commencement. It was one of those moments when time seemed to pause its incessant flow and present you with potential courses of action. It was one of those moments when you look at your own reflection in the gleam of the oncoming sword and make a decision that meant the difference between life and death. In this instance Letho chose life.
There was no honor in an execution such as this one would prove to be. This wasn’t some ancient battlefield when arrows whizzed around your head like horseflies and every swing of the sword was a decision between the life of the man that stood against you or your own. This was a competition, a bloody charade where the players were just that; players, peers, contenders. Simply put, this was a game and Letho came to play.
Blank scurried away like a dog with his tail between his legs, and the sullen swordsman refused to follow. His posture retrieved the initial tranquility, his eyes monitoring the escape that ended up behind a rather sturdy rock. To his side, Zieg was preaching about honor and valor, showing a bit of both and a whole lot of clemency towards Jannin. Letho wasn’t surprised. That duel reminded him of a morose parody even more then his own.
Seeing that his opponent wasn’t keen to leave the safety of his newfound sanctuary, Savion prince decided to take action again. The gunblade was casually slung over his shoulder by the leather strap, the titanic weapon bobbing above his right shoulder as he ambled towards the hiding place. He felt six again, his childhood friend was hiding behind a stack of hay, the sun was relentless above their heads and Letho was set to win once again. This time the game took a different course though.
“There’s no honor in this, boy.” he spoke strictly as he approached, his voice that of a patient instructor who was trying to teach a lesson. “Is this how you want to be remembered? Do you want your name to be forever tainted by cowardice?”
Once he was close enough to the rock that stood between Blank and him, Letho moved ardently once again. His figure leaned downwards, his gauntleted fingers digging into the rubble and grasping the edge of the protecting stone. With a growling ungh! the tension of his muscles piqued, providing enough force to push the rock away and send it rolling downhill, where Zieg just raised his chin and told Jannin to give him his best shot. But Letho wasn’t concerned with the pair. His frowned eyes looked at Blank over the clenched fist clad in dragonscale.
“Fight me!”
Blank was amazed that Letho didn’t follow him. All throughout the scramble back, he thought that the prince would charge again and strike him down where he lay on the ground. He stood there though, seemingly refusing to follow Blank. He was allowing Blank to get away. If the young man wasn’t so paranoid at the moment, he probably would have smiled, knowing that Letho was allowing him to do exactly as he wished. If anything was going to be the hero’s downfall, it was going to apparently be the honor he prided himself on.
On the last feet of the scramble, he heard one of Alan’s lessons chime into his head. Don’t let your opponent have the upper hand, even if you have to play a little underhandedly.
He finally made it to the rock. Rounding it frantically, he glanced back to see that Janin was still busy with the demon. The glance gave him no real look into how the battle was going, but seeing Janin alive meant that they were still in it. And Blank still only had Letho to deal with.
Catching his breath, Blank took a moment to glance at the rock he had chosen. It was large, probably a little bigger than Letho himself. It was a bit taller than it was wider, which was something that would definitely help him. What was going to hurt him was the fact that the rock was nestled into the ground. He would have to break it free of the earth that clung to it.
Blank heard the Savion Prince begin his approach, as he stood up and unconsciously placing the pieces of his staff into the sides of his breeches. He put himself up against the large stone, his hand placed in front of him and his knees bent slightly, ready to extend.
Blank heard Letho give his speech, belittling the young man’s honor and bravery. Blank could only smile. Honor and bravery only got you so far. Sometimes the best course of action was to play to your strengths. At the moment, Blank was a little lacking in those, but still he was pretty sure a large stone pushed onto his opponent was strength enough.
He began pushing as soon as Letho finished. He hoped he could time it right. For all he knew, the man could already be making his way around the stone, preparing to start the battle up again.
Blank had to get the stone moving. He pushed and he pushed. The rock wasn’t moving. Janin would have been helpful to him. Blank had heard mages could move objects with his mind. Now would definitely be the time for Janin to surprise him with some new magic.
Pushing those thoughts away, he continued on his task. Letho was probably in position now. He had to push the rock. He had to push. He had to.
Then it started moving. It was working, it was moving.
It was moving downhill, though. Not onto Letho.
Blank watched in amazement as the large stone disappeared from his view, the huge hero, who would be his executioner, taking its place.
And his executioner wanted to fight. How? He didn’t have a weapon. Barehanded? Letho would rip off his head. He had to think of something.
Blank was not some great strategist though. He understood rudimentary combat, enough to actually fight, but nothing about how to get around 250 pounds of pure rolling muscle.
You’ve forgotten too much.
Like a viper uncoiling, Blank went for the pieces of his staff. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Or actually he was thinking on one thought too clearly. He didn’t even fully understand it. It was as if something had just popped into his head, and before actually thinking about it, he acted on the thought.
His body twisted back, his hands each grasping the broken halves of wood. He came striking forward, his body whipping out as he stepped towards his opponent.
If his mind had been thinking right, he would have seen the futility of it all. Wherever this idea had come from, it wasn’t going to work. The strike was something you did with blades, and two pieces of wood would do little against Letho’s armor.
This felt right, though. And that’s what mattered.
* * *
Alan gave his companion a silent applause as he saw his plan. It was a good plan. You beat your opponent in one of two ways, by overpowering him or outsmarting him. Blank planned to do both. It was a good idea.
If Janin had heeded Blank’s plea for magical help, as Alan now guessed Blank had yelled for, it would have, theoretically continued to be a good plan. Janin hadn’t heeded it though and in all honesty the boy would have been very little help to Blank.
Alan knew the young man wouldn’t move the rock, it was impossible for him, not that it couldn’t be moved as Letho ably proved.
Alan had expected Blank to hightail it and run at that point. It was another rule of Alan, though not one meant to be used in this setting. If you fight then run away, you live to fight another day.
That’s not what Blank did though. Instead he changed.
It was a subtle change, nothing drastic. It was like he was becoming something else, but was still utterly him. It was a change, but at the same time, something less.
Alan would be the only one to notice it, because Alan was the only one that could. You had to have experienced it, to truly see it
The remembering. One thought, one action.
He watched the blades… no, it was wood… come out fast. It was a perfect move for twin swords. It was a type of move that only a body honed for such combat could use.
“Gods Blank, who were you?”
Jannin pressed himself a tad deeper into the plateau, eyes fixated on Gamygym. He'd seen its wielder's approach, but by the time his body should have been moving, even a flinch would have meant death. Somewhere inside him, his vanity wanted him to cry, "If you singe the material, you're paying for it!" However, the boy's mind focused on more important matters. This guy could actually kill me, finally occurred to him. His heart pitter-pattered. He remembered the feeling he had eventually decided was fear, and the man who had first made him feel it. Jeeze... I've thought his name so many times, you'd think I was fighting him... The flash he'd glimpsed during Zieg's charge came back to him. Wait a minute... I am fighting him! In a sense, at least. There were simply too many similarities to be a coincidence.
Jannin grew serene, in spite of the Haidian's spiel, to which he was paying fairly little attention. That's not honor! Honor's a bunch of archaic principles and customs for paladins and other idealistic, backwoods morons who can't come up with their own beliefs! How stupid d'ya have to be to get those mixed up? Incidentally, the rhetorical question was a backhanded insult to the boy himself, who had confused 'honor' with 'chivalry'. Besides, according to that definition, slashing a baby into little pieces with all your might is honorable! The guy's a looney! This tirade played on behind the scenes of his true concern: the conclusion his mind had reached. The universe is testing me. It set this up as a challenge, to see if I deserve my rematch. And I don't think this is gonna be the end. Meaning I can't play around with this guy, or anyone else. Jannin gave a sigh of relief when Zieg finally withdrew the weapon. Good thing I didn't realize it too late.
As the young mage rose, making a note to wipe the reddish dust from his back, only a small part of him believed he was alive because of his earlier words -- which, in a sense, may have been true. However, most of him thought there was something more to his opponent than that. He quietly intoned his fireball's incantation, but omitted the 'om' that concluded it. He instead began the chant again, again leaving off the final syllable. Once on his feet, Jannin lad held a calm, confident smile, far less cocky than his earlier smirk. "Can't say I agree with your definition of honor," he told Zieg without a trace of condescension. "But, on the off-chance you're right, I can almost respect believing in it." He quietly added his 'om', summoning a small orb of flickering fire into his left hand. "And I'm gonna give the most honorablest display ever for the rest of this tournament!" The tyke then did an excellent job hiding the cringe the word 'honorablest' nearly produced.
Jannin ignored the combination aerial ballet and metaphor above him, giving the Haidian his full attention. It would have given him an idea, but that was irrelevent; he already had his plan. To Zieg, flashing the fireball may have appeared as a tipping of his meager hand. If the general held that perception, it could only help the boy's scheme. He slipped forward a few steps, holding his staff in position for a strike with his right hand and drawing back the mystical sphere with his left. Now or never... Jannin took a deep breath and went for it. At five feet away, he lobbed the projectile at the unprotected face, under no delusions it would reach its target. The staff between to rotate between his fingers, a maneuver Jannin had used to impress Blank at their meeting. He squinted at its crowning gem, shining particularly brightly in the afternoon sun, and smiled at the effort he'd put into polishing it. With luck, its glare would help catch -- and perhaps blind -- Zieg's eye. Twirling it about before him, he held it, for a second, as though threatening an attack. In this second, the mage stealthily drew his left hand behind his back. Staff still awhirl, he slipped to the general's left and thrust his left palm forward, whsipering "Om," as he did. A normal flame would have likely gone out, with all the air that passed it, but Jannin's completed spell merely formed in mid-air and continued toward the Haidian's face.
I liked the beginning, I really did. It was well written and it flowed very nicely. Then everything stopped. I know activity can be tough, but remember what your incomplete battles do for your readers. They want more and more as the excitement picks up, but then they receive nothing. For a criticism: be consistent. Oh and the references to 'Strength and Honor' were horribly cliche and trite despite Culix's attempt to make them mean something.
Winners:
The Rookies
Lighthawk76
Introduction- 4 (You might be another of Althanas' rising stars. My suggestion to make your introduction better is to introduce the relationship between Blank and Alan a bit more. You might be saving it for later rounds, but it would be helpful for a reader who hasn't read your profile to grasp what has happened)
Setting- 5
Strategy- 4 (Good strategy. It is indeed perfectly acceptable to run. I am very curious as to what you would have done with the combination of magic and the broken staff pieces)
Rising Actions- 4
Writing- 5
Dialogue- 4 (Very forced at times. A good way to write dialogue is to say what you're planning on writing outloud. If it sounds bad to you, it will probably sound bad to your reader as well)
Character- 4 (I can't help but say show don't tell. If you were reading your writing, would you rather read 'Blank knew it probably wouldn't work but Blank tried it anyway' or 'Blank did this action and said a prayer along with it' Tell less about what Blank knows and thinks, and more about what he does)
Climax- 0
Conclusion- 0
Wildcard- 2 (You disappeared for awhile)
Total- 33/100
Culix
Introduction- 8 (That was probably one of the best introductions I've read. Minus the cameo, you incorporated the provided information about Lornius well. You also created a believable setting and gave him a good reason to be there. The ties to Thoracis made perfect sense due to the way the relationship was spelled out in the beginning)
Setting- 5
Strategy- 4
Rising Actions- 4 (You wrote a bit too much. Much of what you wrote could have been deducted from what was written earlier. This is a brevity issue, but it hurt Rising Action the most)
Writing- 7 (Good, good, good)
Dialogue- 5 (What your character SPEAKS flows nicely. His thoughts are fast and jumbled. I think this is an excellent example of a child's thought process. You just hurt because the battle didn't finish)
Character- 6
Climax- 0
Conclusion- 0
Wildcard- 3 (You disappeared for a bit in the middle)
Total- 42/100
Average- 37.5
Strength and Honor
Zeig dil'Tulfried
Introduction- 4 (I'm pleased that Kaza did not join Zeig for this tournament. However, I felt that something more could have been added to the introduction to make it outstanding)
Setting- 5
Strategy- 5 (Rather than tribute this to your character, I added a point for attacking Jannin right off the bat. It set the pace of the battle, and immediately got me as a reader excited about what would happen next)
Rising Actions- 5
Writing- 6 (Your writing goes in leaps and bounds. Sometimes it is extraordinary (particularly when your character is fighting) however sometimes (in the action lag period) it seems that you are not having fun with your posts. Could it be you thrive for action?)
Dialogue- 4
Character- 4 (For the life of me, I cannot understand Zeig. He is a demon general, yet he is generally good natured. Then at the rising action portion of the battle he forgos honor and insults Jannin. Then he lectures Jannin on what honor is. I can't buy it; therefore I can't make a connection with the character)
Climax- 0
Conclusion- 0
Wildcard- 5 (Good job on activity)
Total- 38/100
Letho
Introduction- 7 (This introduction was stellar. I would have loved to hear a bit more about Lornius, but I will be honest: it made me want to go and read the Serenti Finals again. It was a good mix of what happened and it made me thirsty to go over the details again)
Setting- 6 (The image of Letho climbing the stones was vivid)
Strategy- 4
Rising Actions- 5
Writing- 7 (Your writing has some of the best flow I've seen. I could not give it a higher score though because you did not finish and when I score that weighs against you)
Dialogue- 4
Character- 6 (More on Myrhia would be nice, though I'm sure you're tired of it after the Serenti)
Climax- 0
Conclusion- 0
Wildcard- 4 (You could have posted after Blank posted rather than waiting on Culix)
Total- 43/100
Average- 40.5/100
Rewards-
Culix receives 242 EXP TOTAL and 200 GP
Lighthawk76 receives 133 EXP TOTAL and 200 GP
Strength and Honor advance.
Zieg and Letho gain 362 EXP each.
Rewards added!