Street Urchins II .

[Elthas_Belthasar]

(Open to ONE fellow lowbie. Preferably level 0-2. I DON'T want to fight another high level dude, it would just be a one sided battle anyway lol. I will gladly fight against whoever comes first. You do not need to contact me first.)

After recovering from his injuries, a month later, the smell of strawberry incense filled the air in the medical wing. He knew he was still in the halls of The Citadel. I guess, end of the day, that is what counts. Elthas thought to himself as he sat up in the bed after breakfast. They actually gave him pretty good meals, definitely not five-star cuisine, but good cooking none the less. He figured it was all part of the medical team's rehab program. Elthas slid out of bed, in his pajamas, and looked at the nearby nurses. Therapy was included in the recovery process, but the emotional loss, was something that would be dealt with later on. Elthas looked at the girl, a nurse named Lucy. Lucy had short, raven coloured hair that was combed nicely. Elthas noticed that she always smelled good too. It was a strong perfume, nothing audacious, but good none the less. Elthas smiled at her, she had blue eyes but was a Hume. Native of Akashima, their folk were known for having unusually shaped eyes. Elthas had always found them attractive but could not flirt with the nurses for he was spoken for.

"Will you be leaving us now, Sir Belthasar?" Lucy asked.

"I live close by you know. Not in Radasanth proper, but on Terrentius Estate." Elthas said. "Either way I will definitely come visit, you have earned my respect. You healing gift is an art form." Elthas commented and grinned.

She nodded. "We are taught from youth." Lucy said. "By the way, Elthas, will you continue your studies in The Citadel leagues?" She asked.

"I believe so." He responded casually. "I have learned a valuable lesson during that last match though."

"The pursuit of knowledge is not just limited to the killing arts..." Lucy said, her expression becoming somber.

"I know." Elthas responded. I don't like to kill. And I don't want to either. "I want to learn how to stay alive so I can protect the people that matter to me the most."

"A humble pursuit." It was not Lucy who spoke, that was a man. Elthas turned to see Lukan, a monk of intermediate rank. The same gentleman had overseen his previous bout against that brat, Talen. Elthas turned to face Lukan.

Still bandaged up, Elthas knew he was not one hundred percent yet. However, he was eager to get back in Chamber Number twenty five. "I thank you, Father Lukan." Elthas bowed towards Lukan, a formal courtesy. "That brat was a bit too much for me to handle..."

"You hesitated at the end." Lukan said carefully. "You held back, this is The Citadel, you do not have to hold back." Lukan narrowed his eyes, they were hazel colored. He was bald, and wore the robes of a monk.

"He wouldn't have, I know. It doesn't matter. I have my own code I follow, I don't like to kill people. For me to win, I would have had to kill the kid, and I didn't want to. Simple as that."

"He would not have hesitated to kill you." Lukan reminded. "Furthermore, he was trying to kill you."

"Yeah, and he made a mess in the process." Elthas frowned. "Arguing theology and personal philosophy will get us no where, Father Lukan." Elthas pointed out. He got dressed in front of everybody. As an Elf he was not shy about his own sexuality, or masculinity. He knew who he was. He placed that fancy hat back on his head last. "Shit." Elthas suddenly realized. "I'm out of herb. Father, Lukan, did you manage to recover my herb from the chamber?"

"Right here." Father Lukan said. "I smoke on occasion too, but a far less potent herb."

The herb was named night's eye herb, and was part of the cannibus family of plans and herbs. It had a very specific scent to it. Elthas could smell the green buds in the pouch that Father Lukan handed to him. Elthas put the pouch away, he would smoke later.

"Okay." Elthas, strapped on his recovered quiver of bolts, and his crossbow back on his person. "I want to keep fighting, but I want to fight someone more my skill level. That brat was a bit too strong for my tastes."

"He also caused a significant amount of damage." Father Lukan said. "Killed several people too, all though the people were not real, it is the principle of the thing."

"A bloodlust is still a bloodlust, Father Lukan." Elthas said, annoyed at the event.

"I suppose you are right about that." Father Lukan responded. "Do you want me to ready your chamber? Do you have a request for scenery? Or, may I, indulge?"

"I do have a request actually..." Elthas said and began to inform Father Lukan of what he wanted.

***

He was standing on the fields of Yarborough District, a large plains of grass all around him. It was hilly too, an interpretation of course, but the most important factor was the windmill that was nearby. The large prongs of the fan whirled about towards the east, powered by the wind as it endlessly ground wheat and flour. A farm was nearby. Elthas knew the land well, Terrentius Estate would hypothetically be located nearby. Elthas wore his suit, as always, it was coloured black and pin striped. He had his fancy feathered wide-brimmed hat lowered down to cast a shadow on his face. His cloak flapped in the wind, it was a simple brown cloak. No symbols were etched upon it whatsoever, it was simply meant to keep Elthas warm.

It was a late October day in the imaginary world, a chill in the air. Storm clouds were overhead, lingering, and people worked the fields. It was harvesting season after a long season of good weather and crop growing. Elthas had his daggers in his gloved hands, the blade tips pointing down the ground. The sun was not visible, and the chill that hung in the air threatened of deep winter. Elthas made certain to inform Father Lukan that he did not want a highly skilled opponent that time. He wanted someone of the same Citadel League bracket as he. Elthas's boots felt good against the earth beneath him, he stood upright and confident. If he had gained one thing fighting that brat, it was self confidence. He would definitely attempt to acquire more of that.

As he waited, the wind started to get stronger, to the point where he had to place a hand on the tip of his had and hold it in place. Elthas grinned. He smelled moisture in the air, which signified rain. Father Lukan got the details right. It was a Tuesday afternoon in the imaginary world, and it was roughly six o'clock, standard Althanas time. Elthas double checked his gold pocket watch to be certain of the time. It was accurate. He then looked towards the general direction of Radasanth, where his opponent would likely come from. He made certain that his opponent could only appear directly in front, as the windmill itself was behind his person, watching his back. Quite literally. Elthas recalled his battle against Talen. Hopefully this goes a lot differently than that incident... And Elthas could only wait.