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  1. #1
    Althanian

    EXP: 30,681, Level: 7
    Level completed: 47%, EXP required for next Level: 4,319
    Level completed: 47%,
    EXP required for next Level: 4,319



    GP
    739

    Name
    Robert Bertrand
    Location
    Corone

    Ration Your Light

    (closed to my dawg billeh sorry : D)

    John took a hesitant step forward, holding a torch in front of him. It shed a weak light in a corridor about ten feet tall, and just broader than his burly shoulders. The flame of the torch only illuminated about six feet in front of him, even though he held it extended in front of him. The monk had said that this was a ‘game’ but John currently doubted whether they defined those terms in the same way.

    In any case, forward I go. Nothing to do for it but-

    John let out a sharp cry as the floor gave way under him. He began to fall, just as quickly jamming both hands to either side. His fall slowed, then stopped, leaving his head a foot short of where the floor would have been. He saw it fade quickly as his torch, forgotten in his haste to save his skin, fell into endless blackness. It faded into utter dark, and John grunted with effort, feeling forward with a loose foot for a sheer edge to the pit. The toe of his boot brushed stone, and John searched blindly for purchase. Finding a little of it, he shifted a hand quickly, his muscles were starting to burn a little. Bit by bit, he shifted his hands until one rested on the edge of the pit, whose sides were sheer against the walls of the actual hallway. Blindly, he pulled himself upwards until he was on his knees in pitch darkness, his toes hanging into an apparently infinite black. He grabbed a torch from his belt, now his second of three, and fished a piece of flint to light it on the walls. Sparks flashed, and the torch gave him five feet of what looked to be the same corridor.

    John didn’t look back as he pushed himself up with his free hand and resumed his walk down the corridor, especially carefully this time.

  2. #2
    Junior Member



    GP
    0

    Name
    Ioder Bella Horvat
    Location
    Corone
    How the hell…

    Did the monks honestly expect him to fight under these conditions? Sure he was brimming with confidence from his victory yesterday but this wasn’t what he imagined when he quickly registered for another fight. He found himself in the middle of a huge sprawling labyrinth filled with dangerous traps at nearly every turn. To top it all off it was near complete darkness within the cold stone halls, he prayed his opponent didn’t possess the ability to see in the dark. In the beginning the traps were easy enough to spot. Between basic trip wires and pressure plates Ioder wasn’t impressed. A toddler could make it through this nonsense. What wasnt easy was the solitude of the arena, and being left to your own thoughts while waiting for a dagger in the dark.

    As Ioder walked the desolate hall in front of him he held tightly to his torch. Ioder hadn’t the faintest clue where his enemy was but he knew that the three torches he was given would be his only friends in this place. He watched closely as the walls shifted at each intersection in diverging paths, it seemed that the maze branched outward from the center multiplying at each turn. Quickly the half-elf became annoyed as the dark corridors seemed to continue endlessly with no sign of anyone. He figured that it had already been about twenty minutes since he first stepped into the arena based on the dwindling flicker of his torch.

    “WHERE IN THE WORLD ARE YOU!?” Ioder yelled at the top of his lungs. He could hear his voice echo off every wall as it disappeared into the distance. If anyone was close they would have heard him for sure so as a precautionary measure he drew Helfa from his belt. His legendary dragon bone blade would be worth of anyone who would dare to attack the envoy from beyond.
    Last edited by Ioder_Horvat; 12-29-2017 at 03:51 PM.

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