The Citadel. Oh, yes, the Citadel. How strange and beautiful are the machinations of this place. How does it work? The magic? What secrets does this place hold? I, Lona Dim, was certain to find out.
I had to admit, the realism of their little arenas was rather impressive. I couldn't really feel the ground my feet were on. The rubble of rustic ruins were crushed under my boots as I tip toed around the debris. Really, I could taste the irritating dust in the air. Clear sunlight beamed from above, scorching the plain, brown, undressed earth with barrages of heat. Rather annoying, these ruins were. Why, the crumbling pebbles from dying walls and ceilings above could ruin my hair! My blond hair, tips dyed dark blue. Blue hair like a stormy sea was a poor choice in this dull, bright brown atmosphere. The white gamberson and pink shorts caused me to stand out as well.
Of course, the temple had witnessed better days. Obviously, the damage dealt was recent. Fires still crackled here and there. I could catch the faint whiff of rotting bodies. And blood painted the walls too. Festive! All I had to do was make sure somebody, me or my opponent, joined the dead bodies littered here. This would be fun...
I heard boot steps.
The heavy crunching of rocks and dirt ahead caused me to look deeper into the bizarre ruins. The walls were coated in ancient symbols I could not decode. Within the dim shadows of the temple, standing several feet away from a sacrificial alter, was my opponent. He was just as exposed to this place as I, loud enough to wake a hibernating dragon of the deeps.
"Forget stealth, huh, big guy?" I called loudly.
The figure turned around. From the shadows, he wore dark garbs and had a mask on. Stupid mask! I groaned, pointing at the mask covering the big man's face. "Boring! Masks are lame!"
I reached to my back, pulling out my goedendag. Slamming the pole arm's end into the rubble below, I placed my other hand over my eyes to get a better look at him.
I spy with my little eyes, plain old boring maces. Clearly, he has zero taste in style. But more importantly, everything about him points to a heavy, strength based fighting style.
I smirked, pulling my hand in front of me. I motioned for him to bring this fight on. That was what the Citadel was for, after all. Hopefully, his fighting style was better than his terrible sense of fashion!
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