[Open] The Oath Part 1.

(Looking for ONE Combatant between levels 1-3. Looking for someone who can post fairly regularly!!! Thanks in advanced. No need to contact me before posting just post, first come first to the fite! YEAH!!!)

Funny how the simplest things used to mean so much. Loss. Love. Sacrifice. My Father, Halm Belthasar...has betrayed my people. Most importantly he has betrayed me and my Mother. I will not forgive him for that betrayal is the main reason I cut him the last time we met...I will never forget that pain, the hurt. My whole life had meaning up until he took it away from me...from us. I will never forget the pain...

"Master Elthas...are you all right?" The monk said plainly.

He blinked a few times to break out of the deep thoughts he'd found himself in. Thinking about the past helped him remember why he was doing what he was doing. -Once he settled down, he looked the monk square in his brown eyes. Elthas shook his head. "I was jut thinking about something from before." Elthas said honestly. A lot of things had gone down, but he'd retained his personal morals and values. He'd still remained a good man at heart...but a hero was a far stretch from who he was at that turning point in his life.

"You seem tired...are you certain you want to do this?" The monk asked, there was sincerity in his voice.

I've always liked the monks. Aside from a few bad apples...they were always good people. Elthas nodded for a moment. "I am certain." Elthas was oft seen in The Citadel's chambers oft those years of his life. Her was training himself...attempting to prove his worth after his Father's betrayal. "I'd like my usual chamber if that can be arranged."

"Chamber six yeah?"" The monk asked in exchange.

"Yes." Elthas said in return. "My typical arena should suffice."

"Any requests or stipulations this time?" The monk asked.

"Have it be a night, and position me near the usual camp environs. Should be a fair arrangement for whoever should accept the challenge." Elthas said casually.

"I will let the opponent know that they will be fighting in Concordia Forest, by night. As per your usual arrangements." The monk said, sealing the deal at that point.

***

Once chamber number six was fully configured for him and whoever would end up being his opponent for the unfolding events...Elthas found himself staring at his usual campfire. It's been some time. I miss you...Hilda Terrentius. Elthas thought to himself as he found himself in an unusually melancholy mood. It had been some time since he found himself truly tested in combat. His eyes were closed and his light skin reflected the campfire and moon light. Stars above, twinkling with their infinite mystery. Elthas...oddly enough...began to sing an old byproduct of his limited time as a bard folks. He kept his daggers by his side, ready to swing them at a moment's notice. He merely would wait until his opponent arrived.

Until destiny would be revealed once more.

He found himself thinking of the past often those days and nights. Further, the betrayal from his Father had left a wound that would never close down. Father...one day I shall kill you for what you've done to us. Elthas felt a certain pang of disgust as the thoughts of his Father resurfaced. One day I shall kill you...be prepared for that day... Elthas opened his eyes at that point...

Tristain settled his hammer and the short camping axe on his belt, and dropped his shield onto his back. His hefty armor felt familiar and comfortable to him as he turned to look at the monk who was waiting in the doorway. The monk bowed to him, arms folded in his sleeves.

"The one who initiated the challenge sets the bounds of the environment. Your opponent has decided he wishes to fight within the Concordian Forest, in the evening hours. Are you ready to go?" The mercenary raised an eyebrow and considered the man's words, then nodded once. Already his mind was whirring as he thought on what this likely meant his opponent was like.

As he strode behind the monk, heading towards the battle chamber, Tristain was considering this. Someone who was likely a native to the forest, or to a location with abundant forests in general. Forest combat was a different beast than battling on an open field, tight confines and limited sight lines. Compounding that last issue was the desired time of day - night. Did this mean his opponent was someone who could see better in low-light situations? If so, he could think of some things he might want to do to prepare. It depended on just how accurate to the real forest this one was.

_______________


The forest was dim and dark as Tristain adjusted himself. He hadn't been dropped off right on top of his opponent - he wanted a chance to familiarize himself with the environment before they came to blows. Already he had confirmed that the forest was fairly similar to what he had been traveling through recently.

Using his hammer he had broken off a branch and had begun whittling it down as he carefully made his way through the woods. Sharpened at one end it would serve as a crude spear - give him a chance to gauge his opponent before they got into close quarters. The spear could be used, or thrown - he wondered if he could get a full drop on whoever else was in these woods. He doubted it.

'I need to remember training. Stick close to the trees, use them as cover and to prevent myself from being rushed down. I do not exactly blend in though.' Tristain thought to himself. He was still clad in his heavy armor, and only years of experience kept it from clanking as he moved through the brush. The mercenary could see where there was a campfire ahead, light flickering through the branches. He could not, though, see if there was someone near the fire or not. A soft breath, and he began to move closer cautiously.

Elthas was lost in thought.

The campfire's warmth always served as a way to relax the wayward Forest Elf. He considered the situation at hand. I am going to fight a stranger to increase my knowledge of combat. But why...? Do I just want to defeat my Father...? Or am I doing this for some other reason...? Elthas removed his fancy fedora hat and placed it on the log he was sitting on. He hadn't considered things beyond the conflict his Father had created. Or was it I that created that conflict...? Elthas needed answers. He hoped fighting in The Citadel would at least provide some temporary peace for the trouble adventurer.

He looked at the fire for a moment longer and nodded towards it.

"...Regardless. I've made up my mind." Elthas said out loud to nobody in particular. He stood up at that point and stretched his muscles preparing himself for what was coming. He had his daggers at hand's reach with him at all times. As he stood there he heard some rustling in the wilderness around him. At that point he turned towards the sound. Something shiny reflected moon-light in the wilderness as it approached. ...Armour perhaps? He thought to himself. He readied his trusty daggers and prepared for what was going to unfold...

The night had only just begun.

Tristain had waited a few minutes as he watched his opponent. The other individual was a tall, lithe male, and had apparently been thinking to himself, staring into the fire that he had started. This individual was either poorly trained in combat, so sure of himself that he didn't care about giving himself away - or, just didn't care about giving himself away. He wasn't openly announcing himself either though - if that had been the case, they would have met upon an open field, bare but for the clash of combat. Whatever the case might be, Tristain wasn't going to question it, because it did give him time to observe his foe. Aside from the light armor that the man wore, he also bore a pair of daggers, decent enough weapons, but Tristain didn't know what tricks the other had up his sleeve.

From what the mercenary saw, the other man didn't have many weapons that could deal heavy damage in a single strike. Still, he wasn't going to let his guard down because of overconfidence - he was an elf, and for all Tristain knew, the reason he only had daggers was because he preferred casting spells. No, approaching the battle with a wary eye would be the way to go here. His grip tightened on the rough wooden spear he had hewn out, and Tristain began circling the makeshift encampment. He passed by a bush, and froze when the shrubbery rustled louder than the ambient noise of the night. Too late - the elf's eyes had swung in his direction, peering into the darkness. Tristain hoped that staring at the fire had made the elf's night vision utterly atrocious, but he was no fool.

Even as the elf stared towards him, Tristain was acting. He had come here to vent off some pent up anger, to work out stress. Dealing with thought quandaries had no place here. His arm reared back, and the wooden javelin shot forward through the air, bursting from the dark foliage and shadows with little warning. The mercenary was already moving though, unslinging his warhammer from its hooks on his hip and spinning it into his grip. He rang it once against his shield as he charged out of the brush, following close on the heels of the javelin - trying to take advantage of the elf reacting to the thrown weapon, trying to catch him off guard from a dodge, or from deflecting the opening attack.

(Apologies for the delay, became mildly ill over the last few days and have been dealing with that.)

Elthas realized a moment later that he was staring at his opponent!

He narrowed his eyes, as the man attacked. He launched a crudely fashioned weapon towards him. A flashback filled his mind. He saw the battle he'd had with another man...a man named Black Shadow. When the quick memory passed, the Elf was knocked backwards a few paces by the javelin piercing his flesh. It was sharp, and pierced his simplistic cloth armour. Though it was cut in a fancy sort of way, his clothing was not necessarily suited for combat. However, he preferred being able to maneuver quickly anyway.

The makeshift javelin pierced his left shoulder and nearly punched right through. It was a strong sword arm that had launched that attack, catching Elthas off guard. He kept a grip on his daggers. Elthas reacted quickly and his eyes spotted the powerful mace-style weapon that his opponent carried aloft. The wooden shaft piercing his shoulder hurt like hell. Elthas growled, he heard the clanging of the man's shield and he reacted. Instead of attacking...Elthas decided to jump backwards as a blur. He barely evaded the first set of the man's swinging attacks with his mace. I have to be careful...

Elthas gripped his daggers tightly at their handles. His boots skidding against the ground as he landed nearer towards the campfire, he'd almost landed inside of it As he readied himself, his eyes focused but he would let his opponent make the mistakes. The armoured warrior had fancy equipment. Elthas was thankful for his own fancy daggers. He'd recently upgraded them. The javelin piercing his shoulder caused his tremendous waves of pain to cascade through his upper body. Again, he thought of his old battle with the man named Black Shadow. I have to focus. I can do this...