"Judge, what happens to the loser again?" Mimosa asked as she kept looking at the tent."
"They are no longer in the tournament, so they will be sent home," Gaspar answered gravely.
"No... No, I won't allow it," the witch said as she stood up. "I want to take him to my tower! He can stay with me as long as he wants." Before Judge Gaspar could protest, Mimosa hurried from the wooden stands to the healers' tent, and left a message to Ytsix before returning with the others to Werther Fortress.
* * * *
This was a hard one. I really like both characters, and their card designs are neat. But I believe Lyuben has more pieces and more room for growth in his story when compared to Ytsix, so with those points, he became the victor. I'm a bit sad to see Ytsix go, as his story bits were so fun to read that I burst in laughter a few times! With the help of Mimosa, he has the option to stay in Werther Fortress for a while longer.
@shadow123 - Lyuben struggled his way to the 2nd round! You may create a new version of him or a new signature/companion card, but this time the maximum mana value of those cards is increased to 5!
@Tommia - Ytsix lost, but you may continue his story and post any cards you have planned for him!
Also, I'm really sorry it took me so long to post this! I was being real careful with this.
Wow that was really close! Thanks for letting Lyuben through @TenebrisNemo ! Ytsix was also one of my favorite characters, so I’m also sad to see him go. I’ll write a follow up story sometime today or tomorrow.
Um… are they reading my mind? Ytsix thought as he walked into the library. They went out of our way to pick this place! The last two matches had advantageous positions for one contestant, who emerged the victor… The only advantage I might have here is the low lighting conditions!
"YTSIX! WOOOOO!" The mouse Kavro called out from the audience.
"Go Ytsix! I know you can do it!" Great… how'd she get here? Ytsix looked up in the crowd, and forgot he wasn't the only one impacted by his age reversing device; his sister was in the audience.
"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Ytsix yelled out to her. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"
"Same here, big bro," his sister replied.
"Where's dad? Seriously. I need to know."
"Planeswalking as always."
"I thought he retired."
"So did I, but one day, he decided he was tired of the war on New Tommia and left again."
"THERE'S A WAR?!"
"Yeah…"
"WHY THE F-"
"Ahem." Kara cleared his throat. "You two can finish the family reunion later. For now, your squeaking is terrorizing our eardrums and delaying the match."
“Okay,” Ytsix replies hesitantly.”So… what does… the mark do…? I know in the first match you only marked one contestant… were you rigging the match?”
“You would be foolish to assume that. She refused the mark… this mark keeps you from dying.”
“Wait… so… she… oh no…”
“Don’t get dramatic. All that matters is that you aren’t foolish enough to refuse.”
“Well, um- AHAHAHAHAAHAH! OWOWOWOWOW!”
Ytsix flailed his hand around, recoiling as Kara marked him. He hissed a little, and Kara just shook his head.
“Better than dead, cat. Now into position.”
As the match took its course, Ytsix decided to try out a new modification on his prosthetic, which in theory, should have made the blasts significantly more lethal. However, what happened instead was much more devastating, and to his detriment. The arm malfunctioned, suddenly discharging all of its energy at once… as it broke. The shocking realization of what happened came to mind suddenly; in his haste to prepare for the match, he never listened to Hadid when he told him to fix the major gash in his arm, and it had now turned into a full break in the arm, rendering it nonfunctioning. He tossed the thing aside as blood spilled from his wounds, but it quickly began turning dark and glistening as… something grew from where his prosthetic was. Something he didn’t want public eyes to see, but something he needed if he ever hoped to win the bout.
As metal grew from the stub of his missing arm, black oil began to drip from the emerging blade. Ytsix cried, but his tears were once again black and glistening… he didn’t cry because he was in pain… he cried because he knew what he’d have to do to win.
Blinking from his position, he started unleashing an onslaught of attacks. Few times has he had to go full offensive, but every time, he’s found pressuring his opponents to be an extremely effective strategy. A barrage… but it wasn’t enough this time. As he lie there bleeding from his injuries, his blood was black… his soul clawed desperately to escape, but to no avail, trapping it inside of his body. His body did not want to be brought back to life, but alas, it finally gave into the magic, but the emergence of his new arm was made permanent by the ordeal, a weapon he had no power to withdraw.
~ ...in the darkness...
Meanwhile, in Ytsix’s mind, it seemed as though someone was reaching out to him. He feared… what if the mark didn’t work? He was as good as dead. However, something touched him… a voice of judgement, slightly ashamed of the outcome of the match.
“This… is quite an unforeseen turn of events,” the voice, old and wise, speaks.
“Who… who are you?”
“My name is not important. What is important is that you have failed…”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“When you broke the barrier between planes and lived to tell the tale, I knew great things awaited you, but alas, you are not as strong as I had hoped…”
“This… was a test?”
“Correct. These last four tournaments have been tests… I thought that one day you could be my champion, but alas, you are not worthy…”
“Who are you though?”
“That is not important! If you must know some context, there are dark forces on the horizon… this multiverse needs a savior.”
“Savior? I’m no savior… I’m just an inventor.”
“Yet your will is strong… while you are not worthy of becoming my champion, you are worthy to return to your rightful home. You have garnered a great reputation back there, and while I cannot say your fighting days are over, you can at least fight to protect those you know and love…”
“Really!”
“Yes… you have a week to say goodbye to anyone you’ve met here and prepare yourself. Upon the last day, you shall be taken back to Elysium...”
Your heroes may be even better prepared for their matches by fighting against living, breathing, and thinking opponents rather than wooden defenseless dummies that never attack you. Some of your heroes have fought against each other, but if they wish, they can also challenge certain people in Werther Fortress for a sparring match.
Rheinallt's Soldiers
Art: Septimius Ferdian H.
The soldiers lived in the fort long before your heroes and the tournament hosts arrived there. Most of them are young men from nearby towns and cities, and they've all had basic combat training. But they're rookies (1/1 white Soldier creature tokens) without any special skills or abilities. They uphold the law in the region, go on minor missions (e.g. find missing people, track down lawbreakers, or exterminate common monsters) and ensure the safety of roads and towns. Whenever a soldier has served in the fort for a year or two, they either change careers or travel to an important city where they work and study to become a knight. New recruits come to the fortress all the time, mostly at the end of summer.
If your hero wants to warm-up their combat abilities or take on multiple opponents at once, then they may ask these people to spar with them.
Rodolf
Rodolf is a master of stealth and underhand tactics, able to kill his targets without them ever knowing what hit them. This involves traps, poisons, and ambushes. He is also capable of performing swift kills, just in case someone needs to be quickly silenced. Your heroes may not know when they are being watched by the assassin, when he's right behind them and ready to cut their throat open. He is armed with a longsword, a bow, arrows, daggers, and throwing weapons. He also prefers evasion and movement speed, so he usually just wears dark clothing/leather armor which help conceal him in shadows.
If your hero wants to test their mettle against someone who performs tricks, takes advantages, and plays dirty, then they can challenge Rodolf to a sparring match. Just don't expect a fair fight!
Sir Killian
Honorable hunter knight, Sir Killian is an experienced warrior who has fought in wars against Stelladorans and monsters of the abyss, mostly with the latter. Powerful and fast, he is able to inflict devastating attacks with his greatsword and other melee weapons, such as warhammers, polearms, and one-handed swords. Well-prepared for battles he expects, equipping himself with suitable gear for different situations. He prefers armors such as gambesons, hauberks, scalemail, and (especially) platemail.
If your hero wants to test their strength and skill against various melee weapons and armor types, then they can just say the word and Sir Killian will face them in a sparring match. Your hero may also challenge him with other heroes at the same time.
Mimosa
While Mimosa is specialized in potions, she is still a witch who is able to cast basic spells and curses on her opponents (e.g. fire arcane bolts, shatter minds, slow opponents down, make them sleepy/sick.) She can also control roots, plants, and branches to injure/seize her opponents, turn them into a frog, and use a monster vial which she throws on the ground, causing it to explode and become a temporal green ooze creature that chases and tries to devour the being/object closest to it.
If your hero wants to test their capabilities against a magic-user, then they should pay Mimosa a visit and ask her for a friendly sparring match where she may just play with your hero at first before throwing everything she's got at them.
* * * *
You may use these characters in your hero's story as you see fit. If you have questions about them (or any other things regarding this tournament), feel free to ask me through private messages. You may also contact me via Discord. My username is TenebrisNemo#6101.
Also, don't you all think we have forgotten something? That's right, I haven't posted a tournament bracket here even though we've already had three matches! But worry no longer, I have made the bracket now, and you can check it from the link below!
Also also, @DrakeGladis asked some time ago what's your heroes' room arrangement in the fort's sleeping quarters, so I post the info here for everyone to see, in case you're interested.
Lyuben’s eyes fluttered open as he laid on a bed in the healing tent. The fuzzy outline of a girl faded into view as he woke up. His hand immediately flew to his stomach where he had been shot. The wound had disappeared. He then focused back on the girl. It was Cecilia. She was dressed in a dazzling purple velvet gown. She wore a shiny pearl necklace too. Her outfit was clearly expensive, and it made Lyuben uncomfortable. He wasn't ready for the people in the tournament to learn his real status.
Well, she certainly is flaunting her money...
“Wh-what happened?”
“Well, you died-” Cecilia started.
“I...what!?”
“Wait...no! After you killed the cat-”
“He’s dead?!”
“No no no...you both had the mark on you! After you killed the cat, you bled to death from your gun wound,” Cecilia said.
“So that’s what they call it…” Lyuben mused. He stopped and shifted the conversation back on topic, “But, who won?”
Cecilia opened her mouth to respond, but there was a loud noise that interrupted Cecilia as the doors flung open. A witch came running in: Imilia.
Lyuben shook the voice out of his head, and pushed himself up to a sitting position to greet Imilia. Kara glared at her. Imilia made a somewhat apologetic gesture to Kara, then continued toward Lyuben more quietly.
“Lyuben, who is this?” Cecilia asked. Lyuben could hear her voice rise a little. Was it out of fear? Jealousy? Something else?
Imilia turned to face Cecilia. “Imila Haas, Junior Consul at Baltenainne.”
They shook hands, but Lyuben could see the distrust in both of their expressions as they looked at each other.
“I’m Cecilia. Cecilia Barath, one of Lyuben’s friends from his kingdom.”
“His kingdom? What kingdom?” Imilia asked. Her eyes lit up curiously. Lyuben could tell she was interested in his past. Something Lyuben most definitely was not.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Cecilia laughed, “Lyuben’s-”
Lyuben glared warningly at Cecilia, and she stopped.
“Lyuben, what kingdom?” Imilia asked sweetly.
Lyuben gulped. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. Lyuben didn’t want to talk about them. Just mentioning his parents deeply bothered him.
Lyuben glanced at the two girls next to him.
“I think...I’m healthy enough to leave...” Lyuben staggered to his feet, then proceeded carefully out the tent.
“Lyuben, wait!!” both girls yelled, “Come back!” They ran outside the tent together to chase Lyuben, but he was nowhere to be found.
“He’s gone already…” Cecilia sighed. Imilia nodded in agreement.
“Oh, Lyuben. Just you wait…” Imilia muttered to herself.
Cecilia shook her head and stepped closer to Imilia. She stared menacingly into Imilia’s mysterious eyes. “Look here, little witch. Whatever you do, don’t try and touch Lyuben. His parents want him home-”
The warmth Imilia and Cecilia expressed to Lyuben had completely disappeared. Both of them were rather cold to each other. They were like two hunters fighting for the same prey.
“And I know that you’re deceiving Lyuben. You know his parents intentions aren’t good. That, I can easily read off your expression.”
“He has problems. His parents need to sort it out. His mom explained it all. I was wrong in ever helping Lyuben and his boyfriend before.”
Cecilia stepped closer to Imilia, trying to intimidate the powerful witch. Her face was now right in front of the witch’s face. Both expressions bore expressions of hatred. Imilia was unaffected by Cecilia’s tactics.
“Who are Lyuben’s parents anyways?” Imilia inquired.
“That is of no importance to you,” Cecilia snapped back, “All I want is for you to stay out of this. This is a problem between Lyuben and his family.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Imilia sneered, “If I want something, I always get it in the end. Trust me.”
Imilia’s hand flew to her jar of flies as she started to draw a sigil in the air.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Cecilia smirked.
The sound of a blade leaving its sheath rang through the morning air. Imilia turned around, finding Ryan holding a shining steel sword, ready to strike her down.
“You think a simple knight can defeat me?” Imilia laughed, “I’ll kill both of you.”
Then, Arin strode into Imilia’s view in a calm, yet menacing demeanor. Imilia slowly lowered her hand. She could sense the powerful magic Arin could wield. Unlike Lyuben, Arin had years of training. Even more than Imilia herself.
Imilia smiled wickedly. “You’ve won this battle, Cecilia,” she stated, “But this game’s definitely not over. I’ve got plenty more pieces to play…”
Imilia walked away confidently, purposely bumping into Cecilia’s shoulder as she left.
“Good,” Cecilia commanded, “Now, we must go find Lyuben. We don’t have much time before Lyuben realizes that I intend to take him back home to Malterra.”
Arn observed the recent confrontation between Ystix and Lyuben. Compared to the prior match between Hadid and Damien, It was clear that when it came to magic Lyuben lacked control just as Arn did with his wild magic. Granted Damien relied too much on close combat and Hadid had extensive knowledge of his skills which made this an unfair comparison.
Unlike wild magic which was naturally unpredictable and hard to master, Lyuben had raw power but lacked skill, It was akin to giving a child a sharp dagger only for them to go hunt apples with it, though Arn dared not underestimate the fighter yet since he sensed the same power that had drawn his intrigue before, he kept note of some weaknesses and then when he began to get bored, he left for the fort grounds.
------------------------------------------------------------------- Arn sat at the top of the fort's roofs observing the soldiers chatter about their exploits and excersise their bravado.
The soldiers in the ground had clearly seen battle, but they clearly lacked humbling. They had never had a near death experience from how they bragged and had only fought things within their grasp. In essence they had the experience but lacked the understanding.
Arn realizing he was a little bored decided that a little fun couldn't hurt anyone so he approached the four soldiers and challenged them to a match.
Arn: "You all look like a seasoned bunch of fighters" Arn approached with arms out in the open as if nothing to hide "Perhaps you lads can offer me some excitement?"
The fighters turned around clearly unnerved by the aura Arn was exerting. There was a moment of silence where the winds could be heard whispering and the clouds could be seen swimming but Arn once again broke the silence.
Arn: "Oh what was I thinking, ofcourse you are not the experienced soldiers I mistook you for" Arn said goading them as he tugged discreetly on their ego.
Etzar: "You champions always act so cocky. I would put you in your place if it was worth the time right now."
Arn: "A reward you say?" Arn said smugly reaching into his left pocket and pulling out the 500 coins he had gotten from Rheinhallt.
Arn: "Tell you what, you can have these coins if you can best me in combat. Surely a seasoned fighter like you should be able to best me"
Etzar: "That isn't a fair trade, I know you champions got your magic backing you up"
Arn unhinged the cleaver on his back that he only used to hunt quary with and placed it on the ground, he did the same for all his spare daggers all except one even though he doubted he would need it.
Arn: "I am a being of standards. If you still doubt me, you can all fight me at once and since I can't die, no need to hold back."
"He must be bluffing" the soldiers whispered to themselves, "he must take us for a fool" they continued, before a Etzar the leader of the bunch interrupted
Etzar: "We have fought far worse things than you, we have bested abyssal monsters and killed beasts, beating you up shouldn't be that hard. Besides you are in need of some desperate humbling" He said charging at Arn.
Arn dodged the wide swings of Etzar's broadsword, making his sword skills look like child play and with each swing Etzar getting angrier and angrier . He danced around the clumsy soldier before placing a foot infront of his boot tripping him.
The soldier infuriated got up and told the other soldiers to stay back as he rushed in once again using a mix of swings, kicks and pushes, all to no avail.
Arn: *Yawn*
Arn: "Are you done yet?" Arn mocked
Now all the soldiers rushed in at once all irked by Arn's percived overcomfidence. For soldiers without much combat knowledge they did have a syrenegy, which hinted to Arn a sense of closeness between them leading him to believe that they must have been in the same combat battalion, either way it made no difference to the outcome of this fight.
Their swings were now a mix of speed and power as Arn began to move more seriously, he dodged broadside after short sword, and ducked around strikes that would have killed inexperienced fighters. The swords parried with each evasion he made as he used his right hand to knockdown a soldier and his left leg to trip another. He was gentle with them as his intent was not at all to kill them for if it was this battle would have reached a conclusion minutes in the passing.
The soldier on the ground then kicked dust in an attempt to obscure Arn's vision and while it didn't work, it served as a good distraction for Etzar to get in a lucky slash with his broadsword on Arn's right shoulder drawing a black ichor from him.
The atmosphere changed immediately as Arn let out a wide grin under his mask and then with far greater speed than before turned and grabbed the sword with his bare hands the force unleashed crushing the Iron sword with ease, he then flipped Etzar launching him to a nearby tree. Arn then turned around quickly and elbowed an unfotunate soldier severely denting his platemail, followed by a kick to the third soldier launching him to a nearby tree as he threw his dagger in the process intentionally missing the soldier's neck by an inch.
Arn was feeling the thrill of battle and with a closed fist he now charged the soldier who had kicked dust in his eyes as an aura of malice made the soldier freeze in fear, but right when Arn was about to hit the soldier full force Arn stopped, "Now is not the time" he whispered to himself as he pulled back his fist collecting himself, he then extended his hand to the soldier who took it with hesitation.
Arn: "Sorry I almost forgot I wasn't fighting prey " Arn said as he returned to his usual state.
He picked up his items and tossed a sack of 250 coins to the standing soldier.
Arn: "You made for good amusement. Buy your friends some drinks at a tavern, or bandages. Whichever you deem necessary is none of my business, but if I were you I'd rather drink away any memory of such humiliation"
Arn then pocketed the remaining coins and walked away to his quarters to await the next match.
Imilia often had trouble sleeping before important or uncertain events. The night before her acceptance letter arrived, for example. Or the night before she submitted her Journeymage application. The night before she left home for Baltenainne. The night before she confessed to Han. The night before she entered the Tournament.
The night before her first match, after setting out a jar of honey on the windowsill, (to capture more flies for her jar) neatly folding her uniform and setting it near the door, taking down her hair, kissing her trunk gently on the lid, and getting into bed, Imilia fell asleep instantly.
"Well, That's jus' about done!" Zordroth stepped, back, wiping the sweat from his brow and stretching his back.
Sturgar rose from his workbench, examining himself. Although there was a smith at the contender's disposal at the fortress, Sturgar was slow to trust. What was to say that wasn't in the pocket of another fighter, feeding them information of the competition? No, it was far safer with Zordroth, who had only recently arrived by ship. He had set up a temporary workshop in the market, and Sturgar now stood in the small, dark, rented basement space.
"So to the best of our knowledge, the chic you're fighting needs to touch you to do her magicky gobbledegook, so I added a heating element to your armor. He pointed to the orange crystal clamped into Sturgar's opened chest piece. It glowed faintly, two steel-lined pipes drilled to it, conducting it's searing heat through his body.
"Courtesy of your employer's enchanter friend. Very rare, and very hot." Zordroth pulled out a screwdriver, slotting layers and layers of shaped steel plates back into place, rebuilding Sturgar's torso. "Now your fleshy interior'll be fine. The inner layer is well insulated, but don't keep this thing on too long, or it'll get stuffy. Go on, try it out." The blacksmith removed his goggles, smiling.
Sturgar stretched, clenched his hands into fists, then whipped his arms outwards, flicking his hands open in one rapid swoop. A burst of heat and light erupted from the seams of his armor with a low hum, and the surface of his body heated near instantly, turning orange and flickering with inner light and flame. He looked at his forearm, impressed.
"Thanks to the tungsten in that alloy, your armor won't lose any rigidity, and that kinda heat is enough to melt a person's skin. So if she gets touchy, the clerics'll spend the next three hours un-cooking her hand." Zordroth chuckled, handing Sturgar a roughly chopped oak log. "Hold this for a sec."
As his armored hand gasped the log, Sturgar marveled as the wood began to blacken, hissing and popping, before a small flame appeared near his palm. He grinnind and dropped it into the bucket of water at his feet. He flicked his wrists again, and the glow faded, his armor returning to it's usual golden luster. He dropped a heavy sac of gold into the smith's waiting palm. shook his hand, and left, excited. This would be no problem. He walked back to the fortress, a spring in his step. Along the road, he found an orange-sized stone, tossed it in the air, and struck it with his mace in a swift motion, sending the rock whistling into the air and towards the forest, never to be seen again.
The midday sun shined through the cracks of countless grey clouds as people prepared for the fourth match. The rain of the third match had stopped during the night, and the land was slightly wet. Cool breeze constantly swept over the tournament caravan after they left the walls of Werther Fortress. Like before, the guards were leading the carriage and the three caged wagons while the crowd followed them from the market. According to their rumors, the hosts had prepared a fourth and final arena for the tournament's first round, which seemed to be somewhere nearby the eastern mountains. They slowly traveled along stone bridges and muddy roads, and after half an hour, they reached a rocky valley at the foot of tall red mountains. The rugged terrain was filled with black rocks and cliffs. Whatever foliage grew there did not make the ground any softer. As countless white doves and swans were returning from the south, they flew in the sky while avoiding the tall peaks.
Art: Ferdinand Ladera
Wooden stands were waiting for the spectators at the edge of the valley. Judge Gaspar and witch Mimosa took the highest row, guards set up the healers' tent, then took their positions. Sir Killian and Rodolf opened the caged wagons, allowing the healers and the two contestants to step outside. Priest Kara approached them, and reached his hands at the Soundweaver. The blind musician played a note on his lute, then let the blind priest draw the black mark on his palm as his face twitched a bit from the pain. When Kara turned towards Imilia, the witch gave a scornful laugh. "You think I'd need that? You truly are blind," she said to the abyssal priest and was about to walk to her position before Sir Killian placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Take it just in case," the knight said calmly. "Anything can happen in the heat of battle, and we don't want to repeat the tragedy of the first match." The witch looked at the knight with cold eyes.
"There won't be any heat in this battle, good sir knight. The creepy cleric doesn't have to put an insurance marks on my skin, so don't think I would let him touch me. The same goes for you," she huffed and glanced at Sir Killian's hand on her shoulder. The knight furrowed his brow, slowly raised his hand, then watched as Imilia walked to her position in the middle of the valley. Rodolf walked next to the knight with his hands crossed over his chest.
"Tsk tsk tsk! You still don't know how to treat a lady," the assassin said while his smirk shined under his hood. Sir Killian sighed and walked away from the teasing friend. Captain Rheinallt walked onto the wooden podium in front of the stands, and once everyone seemed to be ready, he cleared his voice and raised his hand.
"Welcome every one of you who has come here to witness the fourth match! On the left we have a mysterious old minstrel, who sees the world through his songs; The Soundweaver!" The crowd clapped, then Rheinallt raised his other hand. "On the right we have a third-year magic student from college Baltenainne; Imilia, Witch Consul!" Another applause, then Rheinallt turned to look at the two fighters before raising both of his hands.
Clouds filled the morning sky as Lyuben woke up late the next day. The sun's rays filtered through the tiny holes within the thick shield of clouds that tried to hold the light back. Lyuben smiled. Nothing could stop the sun. Day always came. No matter what happened the night before.
Lyuben quickly changed out of his blue silk pajamas into his cheap robes, pausing momentarily to examine the cheap material the he had been wearing in public ever since he left home.
Is it better that people know I'm the prince of Malterra?
Lyuben shook his head. “If people knew, my parents would find out I’m here. They would drag me home in an instant...especially if they knew I was practicing magic.”
Lyuben stepped out of his room into the hall he looked back at the mirror he had destroyed on his first day here.
Control...I need more control…
He waved shyly to Nilfi, another champion living next to him, before descending three flights of stairs to reach the ground floor. Both Imilia and Conscience lived in rooms on the first floor. They were the most mysterious, yet somehow the most fascinating contenders Lyuben had seen so far.
Imilia strode out of her room confidently.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Lyuben exclaimed, “Your match is today. Good luck, Imilia!”
Imilia smiled. “Thanks Lyuben. I doubt I’ll need any luck to beat the Soundweaver though,” she laughed.
I wish I had her confidence…
Lyuben saw as Conscience rolled her eyes as she listened in to their conversation.
“Well, I’ll see you around, Imilia,” Lyuben said as he started towards the door, “I’ll be rooting for-”
The glass door flung open, slamming Lyuben in the face. Lyuben fell over, hitting his head on the hard white wall.
“Ow…”
Lyuben looked up to see a handsome man standing over him with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder and a sword on his back. He reached out his hand to help Lyuben up. Lyuben stared at the man for a moment in awe, before something snapped him out of his trance.
“Hey, Lyuben,” Ayden said, “You okay?”
“Oh...yeah...of-of course. I’m the okayest I could ever be!”
Lyuben grabbed onto Ayden’s soft hand to help himself up.
“Ayden!” Lyuben smiled, “What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”
The cleric could see Imilia frown slightly at Ayden.
“Well…I pulled a few strings, and I managed to get a message that I had to deliver here.”
“And the message?” Lyuben asked.
“I wrote it and got my friend to send it, requesting me to deliver it. I have a great reputation so my boss suspected nothing!” Ayden explained, “I made up a story to get a few weeks off too. I did want to watch the tournament, after all.”
Ayden came all the way here to see me?
“Okay, back on topic…” Ayden shifted the conversation, “I wanted to tell you that you’re in danger.”
“Me? What?”
“There are people within this very fortress looking to capture you. Manipulative people.”
Imilia’s body tensed a little as she listened in to the conversation. Conscience took note of Imilia’s odd behavior as she listened in too.
“Who? Why?” Lyuben pressed.
“I have no idea who they are. But I know it has to do with your title as Prince of Malterra. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…”
Lyuben looked around. He suddenly realized that the two people he definitely didn’t want to know he was of nobility knew about his high status.
“Maybe...we should talk about this later?” Lyuben asked, “I- I just don’t-”
“Gotcha,” Ayden smiled. “I do have a message to deliver after all. See you tonight.”
Ayden gave Lyuben a cute wink and then left.
“Lyuben, you’re a prince?” Imilia asked sweetly. She seemed intrigued, yet confused.
“Why did you come here?” Conscience added, “To the tournament?”
“I- I think I have to go,” Lyuben responded, dodging the question, “Good luck today, Imilia.”
Lyuben pushed open the glass door and disappeared into the morning air.
The Soundweaver plucked the strings of Worldsinger, and a heroic, yet suspenseful melody echoed in the valley as he slowly walked towards his opponent. Imilia rolled her eyes, then raised her left hand, channeling a floating water orb above her palm from the raindrops and humidity of the area around her. The boiling orb grew larger in seconds, and when it was large enough to contain a human, Imilia threw it at Soundweaver. The old minstrel plucked an unnaturally loud C-note, which caused the orb to explode halfway. Hot drops of water fell onto the witch, but it only irritated her exposed skin a little. "Darn," Imilia said while gritting her teeth, then the witch slowly waved both of her hands, channeling two streams of water to circle around her until they began to boil. When they were as long and thick as a warmonger's leather whip, she flailed them both at the musician. Soundweaver plucked a D-note when the left water whip was about to hit him, and an A-note to the right whip, breaking each stream as if they hit an invisible wall. Annoyed, Imilia raised both of her hands, channeling dozens of fist-sized orbs around her, then kept throwing them at the old musician while making new ones every other second. Splish! Splash! Soundweaver quickly played the notes of his song and destroyed every single boiling water orb while increasing the tempo as even more orbs flew at his direction. Dun-dudu-dun-dudu-dun-dudu-dun-dudu-dun... Imilia kept throwing one orb after the other, channeling more and more from the fallen drops of destroyed orbs, until with an "Ugh," she stopped as her hands were getting tired. The Soundweaver kept walking closer to his slightly bent over opponent while playing the song until he suddenly stopped. Imilia stared at him while tilting her head. "Why are you even in this competition, old geezer?" she asked, then straightened her back while smirking. "Hmm, do you even have the means to defeat anyone?"
Even though the Soundweaver's eyes were blank, he suddenly looked straight into Imilia's eyes, which made her wince a bit. Then he played an enchanted chord that hit Imilia like a shockwave, causing her to step back. Another chord made the witch fall onto her left knee. Soundweaver played two more chords, first one lifted Imilia off the ground as if gravity had vanished for a moment and second one threw her many meters away from the minstrel until she hit a cliff, then she fell onto the ground while a strong breeze carried her floating black hat further away. The witch was lying prone on the uneven rocky ground for a few seconds before slowly pushing herself up. Dammit, he's way too strong. Imilia took a deep breath while she fixed her black messy hair. Her knees, elbows, and back hurt from the impacts, which caused tears to glimmer in her dark grey eyes. Soundweaver walked towards his opponent while calmly playing a silent, yet thrilling song. Imilia reached her right hand into her pocket, then revealed a jar which was full of dead flies. After the witch unscrewed the lid of the jar and threw its contents around her, she raised her left hand, and a marionette swung underneath the hand, mindlessly obeying each finger's move. As the marionette danced, the buzz of flies surrounded Imilia as the bugs moved their wings and flew around her like a black halo. The sound of buzzing grew ever louder, and Imilia's feet got off the ground, levitating while the puppet danced for its master. The Soundweaver knew how Imilia grinned for being in her true element, even though the musician couldn't see it with his blind eyes.
"You seem to be powerful after all, but now I will kill you, slowly," the witch said while giggling a little. "When this match is over, maybe compose a song that'll encapsulate your horrible death? It might earn you a coin or two!" The Soundweaver stopped walking and playing as hesitation shined in his face. Imilia pointed her left hand at the minstrel, and so did the marionette, causing the countless swirling flies to fly at Soundweaver, who slowly raised his right hand towards the sky. When the black cloud of undead bugs was about to consume the musician, he swiftly dropped his right hand and played a powerful chord with his lute, causing a bright magical explosion around him. Imilia covered her eyes from the sudden light, and then she looked at what happened. Soundweaver had fallen on his right knee, and few strings had snapped from his lute. The hundreds flies had broken into pieces and scattered around the minstrel before they could even touch him.
After a few seconds of silence, the Soundweaver stood up, but then he felt as something sharp penetrated his throat. Warm blood trickled down his gullet as he fell onto his knees and held his neck. Imilia marched towards the minstrel while carrying a couple of throwing daggers between her right hand's fingers. "Your lute broke, so I was going to recommend you to become a singer, but alas, I really hate your music, and I would definitely loathe your singing voice," she scoffed, then kicked the minstrel's chest with her left leg's heel, making him fall onto his back. The impact caused gurgling sounds to come from Soundweaver's mouth and he dropped his lute. His blank eyes were wide open as he placed both of his hands around his neck. Imilia grinned and sat onto Soundweaver's lap while staring into his eyes. "Actually, I think seeing you breathe is disgusting enough," then she quickly stabbed the musician's chest multiple times with one of her daggers. "Hahahahaha!" She pushed the dagger's blade deep within the chest with both hands, pulled it out, and repeated it while joyfully laughing, even after Soundweaver's bloody body had stopped wriggling. Blood splattered onto the two contestants, and after a final delayed stab, Imilia stopped while breathing heavily. "Mmm, hm hm hm hm," she laughed smugly while wiping blood from her left cheek, then she stood up and left the corpse to collect her items from the battlefield. Tournament guards went to pick up Soundweaver's body and carried him to the healers' tent while abyssal priest Kara followed. Finally, Captain Rheinallt announced the winner of the fourth match.
While I guess it was pretty clear who was going to win, I still wished to see more of Soundweaver during his time in this tournament, since I have a soft spot for wandering minstrels (not the kind who try to charm every single enemy they encounter!)
@Usaername - Imilia slices her way to the 2nd round! You may create a new version of her or a new signature/companion card, but this time the maximum mana value of those cards is increased to 5!
@AxNoodle - Soundweaver tasted death, but is brought back to life thanks to Kara's mark. You may post his concluding chapter of his tournament journey and post any cards you had planned for him!
Imilia had won. Though even the Soundweaver had managed to give Imilia great difficulty. Lyuben thought of the dagger Imilia held. The horrific scene of her stabbing the bard’s neck replayed over and over in his mind. As it did, Lyuben could see the figures transform from Imilia to his mother and the Soundweaver to his boyfriend.
Lyuben stopped in front of a tall, run down tower. He looked up. Green smoke billowed into the afternoon sky, blocking out what little light broke through the low clouds.
“Might as well go in…”
Lyuben put his hand carefully on the bronze handle. He pushed the door slightly open, revealing a long, circular staircase. The only source of light was a lantern at the very top. Lyuben could barely see anything on the ground.
The runaway prince carefully stepped inside. He looked back suspiciously, then started to climb the stairs.
“What could be up there?” Lyuben whispered to himself.
Why am I listening to that voice? Why am I so curious..?
As Lyuben climbed the concrete stairs, his footsteps echoed through the dark chamber. As he got closer and closer to the top, he could hear bubbling noises, perhaps of some liquid in a...science experiment? A slam echoed through the old stairwell.
Lyuben jumped, checking to see what it was. The door was shut.
How odd…
When he finally reached the top of the stairwell, he saw a short hall with an old wooden door at the end. The door was slightly open.
“Yes, yes, yes…” he heard a female voice say from behind the door.
Lyuben placed his hand on the rusted handle and the door creaked open. The room was filled with mysterious objects.There were shelves and tables lined with books, scrolls, potions, plants, animal skulls, trinkets, candles, ink bottles, and quills. A silver dagger, a chalice, a crystal ball, an hourglass, and a black cauldron sat around a fireplace on the left side of the room.
In the middle in a center table were bubbling potions and concoctions. There were many open books and random papers scattered on and around the table. The room was messy, to say the least.
In contrast to the rest of the room, a girl stood by a small window that mysteriously highlighted her young features. She had long blonde hair and wore a black dress that fell neatly around her feet.
“Were you never taught to knock on the door?” the girl asked.
“O-oh sorry.”
“Not a problem,” she replied curtly, “Mimosa is my name. I am a witch who specializes in potions, poisons, soups, and other concoctions. I have many requests, and am very busy. What brings you here?”
“I was...just curious…” Lyuben said.
“Curious, eh?” Mimosa asked. Mimosa walked a few steps closer to Lyuben. “What about?”
“Well…” Lyuben started. He pulled his mysterious rose out of his pocket. “I thought, maybe you might know more about this?”
The witch recoiled slightly.
“What?”
“That rose…” Mimosa whispered, “That’s the last Blood Rose in existence.”
“What do you mean? Blood rose?”
“Have you heard of Emperor Rakhadi?”
“Of course,” Lyuben confirmed, “He used to rule where my...uh...the kingdom I come from is.”
Mimosa gave Lyuben a weird look.
“The terrifying mages of the Dusk Rose legion each carried a rose like that.”
Mimosa put her palm out, asking for the rose.
“I- I can’t. I just don’t understand,” Lyuben refused.
“Understand what?” the girl prompted.
“Well...you see…,” Lyuben started. Lyuben put his hand to his eyes to wipe the tears away from his face before they even formed.
“Take your time.”
“My boyfriend. My dead boyfriend. He carried this rose. H-he was killed by my parents a few weeks before I came to this tournament. That’s when I ran away to come here.”
“Your boyfriend had this rose? How?”
“I- I don’t know?”
The witch breathed in sharply, then turned around and grabbed a small vial. It was filled with a deep purple fluid.
“This rose. A blood rose,” Mimosa explained, “It carries great amounts of abyssal, dark magic. I’ve been experimenting with it recently, outside of my orders I’ve had recently.”
The witch poured a drop of the liquid on a small cactus. The liquid was extremely viscous as it dropped out of the vial. The moment it touched the cactus, it started to wither. Within seconds, the cactus was dead.
“Your rose carries similar magic,” the witch continued, “Every petal has dark magic one hundred times as powerful as this concoction.”
The witch gestured to the mysterious vial as she talked. “Each thorn on the stem,” she said, “is as sharp as a silver dagger. Those who don’t know how to use these roses die. It is so easy to lose control of such magic. That’s why it’s so dangerous. That’s why it’s so feared.”
Lyuben held the stem up and pressed it to his skin gently. It pierced through his soft skin. Lyuben almost let out a scream, but managed to catch himself.
“I never knew that…” he said, “Why does this rose have these powers?”
“They were merely a symbol of the dusk rose legion. It was a symbol of their resistance against the gods. Even within something so beautiful like a rose and its petals, there are always thorns. Everything good has its downsides. These roses contributed to just a fraction of the power the dark mages held. Something tells me that you hold that same power. The same powers as Rakhadi.”
“Me? But-”
“I saw how you battled Ytsix,” Mimosa remarked, cutting off Lyuben, “That was just a fraction of your power you’ve learned to control. I know there’s much more there…”
“How am I supposed to learn to control it? I don’t know most of my powers. I don’t know my history. I don’t know my friends! Who am I, Mimosa? Who am I?”
She grinned creepily. “Well, I think we’ll see. People learn so much about another after just a simple fight.”
Lyuben stepped back, moving closer to the one exit in the room. “You want to duel me?”
Mimosa nodded. “That’s to say you want to train. I don’t pretend to be an expert, ya know.”
Lyuben looked at Mimosa, then at the rose in his hand. “I- I guess I do want to learn. But there’s no cost or something?”
“Perfect. I don’t normally help heroes, but you... you intrigue me Lyuben. You are the payment. There is still much I need to learn despite everything I know.”
Mimosa waved her hand, casting a spell on the various items in her room. This kept them safe from any basic spells that could destroy them. Then, Mimosa raised her other hand elegantly, firing a bolt of magic towards Lyuben.
The boy ducked and the arcane bolt collided with the brick wall, sending sparks everywhere.
“Agh!” Lyuben exclaimed as a few sparks burnt his face.
“I know you’ve got more than that!” she stated calmly, “Show me that magic you possess.”
Lyuben turned and fled the room. He hurried into the dark stairwell, trying to evade Mimosa’s multiple spells. She was definitely powerful.
“You can’t win if you run, Lyuben,” Mimosa’s voice echoed through the chamber. She tossed a green vial down the center of the stairway. It exploded midair, causing a green slime to form in front of Lyuben. Mimosa strode calmly down the stairs, trapping Lyuben.
“Use them. Use your powers!” L̸̮͛e̷͍̅t̸̟͠ ̵͍͆i̵̦͋t̷̰͂ ̸͖̅a̶͈̔l̵̰̂l̸̫̓ ̴͖́g̵̙͒ō̴̜.̷̙̆.̸̦͒.̸͊ͅ
Lyuben conjured a circle of dark flames around him, flaying the outer layer of the slime as it oozed towards him.
“That’s it... yes!”
Lyuben launched a dark bolt of energy towards Mimosa. Mimosa didn’t flinch. A light blue shield formed around the girl, deflecting the spell before dissipating into the air.
Mimosa pressed forward, firing more glowing arcane bolts towards Lyuben. Lyuben’s dark flames devoured most of the magic, but Lyuben was forced to move to the far edge of his fire circle. The monstrous ooze still waited for him at the edge.
The witch took another vial out of a pocket in her black dress. This vial had red smoke contained inside the thin glass container. “Fight back, Lyuben!” Mimosa threw the vial in the center of the fire. As the vial shattered on the ground, a shockwave spread through the area, knocking Lyuben off his feet.
Lyuben face planted onto the concrete floor, causing his nose to start bleeding. He tried to push himself up, but Mimosa cast another spell, sapping the strength out of his arms. The protective flames around Lyuben dwindled out and the ooze slowly approached Lyuben. The cleric tried to focus his energy into his hands, but only a dim light formed in his hands.
“I- I can’t…”
Mimosa waved her hand once more, causing the ooze to vanish. She then helped Lyuben to his feet and took out a cloth from her pocket. She rubbed it on Lyuben’s bloody nose. The cut healed instantly.
Mimosa then helped Lyuben to his feet. “Let’s try again.”
Lyuben groaned, but readied himself as instructed. He focused energy into his hands.
“Are you ready?” Mimosa asked.
“Yes,” Lyuben gulped. He stared up at the dim light in the hall.
So that’s what I need to do…
Lyuben fired a tiny dark projectile at the ceiling. It hit the small lantern at the roof, causing it to explode in a burst of flame. The whole hall went dark. No one could see a thing. Lyuben ran down the circular stairs until he hit the ground level, hearing closely has Mimosa stumbled to follow him, blindly firing bolts into the darkness. Whenever Mimosa’s spells collided with the wall, it momentarily lit up the place as glowing red sparks sprayed everywhere.
Lyuben listened closely for the witch’s footsteps and focused on the positions of the sparks across the stairwell. The moment Mimosa touched the ground floor, Lyuben launched a large ball of flame at her. Mimosa summoned her same blue shield, but the force of Lyuben’s magic colliding with the shield knocked her backwards into the wall. It was Lyuben’s turn to attack.
Lyuben let a malevolent discharge of purple electricity. The room flashed brightly in its purple light. Mimosa scrambled away from the dark tendrils. One caught her dress, which she quickly put out with a wave of her hand.
Lyuben reached down to his rose. Dark energy swirled around the runaway prince. Lyuben raised his hands, summoning a huge ball of abyssal energy. Mimosa’s eyes were wide. Lyuben could tell that she didn't expect such power from the young mage.
The ball of energy started to shake violently in Lyuben’s hands. He was losing control. Again. Just like in his castle’s great hall with his parents. Just like with Imilia. Mimosa seized her chance, slashing her hand through the air. A beam of freezing magic shot out of her hand.
It slammed Lyuben violently against the wall, trapping him in chains of ice that attached itself to the wall. Lyuben blinked twice. He tried to struggle against the icy chains, then everything went black.
—-
“Wake up. Wake up!” Mimosa shouted. Lyuben found himself in Mimosa’s room again. She continued, “You hit your head pretty hard. I panicked a little with the crazy magic you wielded. I didn’t expect that.”
Mimosa finished tending to the wound on Lyuben’s head.
“Really?”
“You’re getting better, Lyuben,” Mimosa smiled, “I’ll see you soon okay? I’ll research methods on controlling magic like yours. I’ll definitely have something somewhere.” Mimosa gestured to her shelves of books.
Lyuben waved goodbye as he left Mimosa’s tower. He was exhausted after training with Mimosa. Lyuben stepped out into the afternoon sunlight satisfied with himself for the first time in ages.
Someday I will be strong. Someday I’ll prove my parents wrong. Just you wait...
Nilfi climbed the tower steps, the clatter of
his fine-honed bone staff announcing his presence all the way up and down the stairwell.
He had paid the spellsmith Rezar extra after hearing how the bone had
completely destroyed a few of his more mundane tools. “Maybe I should have warned him about that.” He considered for a
moment, finally reaching the slightly musty and charred wooden door of the
witch’s workplace. He gave the door a few taps with his staff, receiving a
muffled indication to enter. With a quick, smooth motion Nifli swung the door
open and took in the tower’s loft.
The first thing the wizard took notice of was
the absolute mess of the place; papers, bits of plants and animals, scrolls,
vials, books, candles, and all other kinds of assorted magical and alchemical
ingredients were scattered across practically every surface of the room. There
was a small empty spot on the sofa, and over by the window was a large cushion
which Ystix was currently occupying who was seemingly still asleep as the
morning sun shone on the cat’s fur coat, giving it a golden glow. Nilfi’s
attention was split across all the interesting mystical components in the witch’s
possession, but of course he eventually focused on the person he came here to
see.
Mimosa was already hard at work this morning, a
small crate of empty potion vials sat on her table as she chopped a row of
mandrake roots and scooped them into her cauldron. The wooden box had the crest
of the tournament branded into it, and the alchemist could only assume she was
preparing resources for the medical team ahead of today’s match. “Your
match, Nilly.” He rolled his eyes, well aware of what was at stake. Mimosa
barely acknowledged Nilfi entering the room. Despite the early hour he’d come
to see her and how focused she was on her current task, she was dressed as
nicely as always, hair done neatly, and her was gown spotless.
Setting her knife down, she added the last few
ingredients to her pot before summoning a green flame in her hand and igniting
the fire below the cauldron. She wiped her hands on a nearby rag, gave her
dress a quick brush down, before turning her attention to Nilfi, giving him a brisk
curtsey. “If you weren’t aware, my name is Mimosa. I’m a witch who makes varies
potions and poisons for locals and nobles alike.” She introduced herself,
gesturing towards Nilfi. “Although if you’re here I assume you already knew
that. I imagine you’re one of the contestants, yes? Come for a concoction to
assist you in the blood sports?” Mimosa questioned him curtly, making sure not
to be rude, but also clearly not a fan of the current happenings.
He nodded, giving a quick bow in turn. “Partly
correct! The name’s Nilfi, wizard and alchemist, among other things, and yes I
am competing in the tournament.” The vampire informed her, leaning against the back
of the couch. “Fully capable of preparing my own concoctions though, thank you.
I hoped I might get your help in another regard. My first match is later today,
and I had hoped you might be able to help me prepare for the combat. I’d also
love to pick your brain about the tournament and the current conflict that I’m
signing myself up for if I make it through this whole thing.”
The witch gave a soft cooing chuckle. “Oh dear,
you must have talked to Rodolf if you thought I was a good person to talk to
about that complete mess.”
“Actually, I just thought it might be worth
talking to someone who wasn’t quite so attached to the whole thing. I’m sure I’d
get lots of heart-wrenching stories and inspired speeches if I spoke to a
knight like Sir Killian. The real
people who aren’t bound by national oaths or political games are who have the
real perspective. You’re also one of the only competent mages in this whole
place who I’m not going to have to compete with later, so there is that.” Nilfi
said while scratching the back of his head.
Mimosa took a long moment to look the alchemist
up and down, reconsidering her first impression of him. “Well, I suppose I can
give a few minutes to spar while the medicine brews.” She told him, leading the
way out the door and down the stairs. “I’ll be honest with you; I don’t find
this whole tournament thing very appealing. Senseless violence, needless death,
and what, all for more war? Simply seems a waste and these so-called ‘champions’
are nothing more than over-glorified killers in my opinion.” She told him as
they descended the stairwell.
“Why help them then if you disapprove so much?”
“Well, it wasn’t my choice for the tournament to be held at Werther, but a customer
is a customer, and they certainly paid well enough. Besides, it’s simply my
trade, what else am I supposed to do?”
Nilfi nodded in understanding. “I have to say,
I’m not completely sold on this whole tournament either, but I’m here now and
now I need to figure out just what I’m getting myself into. Of course, I also
have to actually make it through the contest too. Noah is an enigma to me.”
“Oh, your match is against Noah?” Mimosa asked
slightly surprised.
“Yes, you know him?” Nilfi asked even more
surprised.
“Yes, he’s come to see me for help preparing as
well. He certainly is… unique. Not quite all here, if you understand.” The two spellcasters made their way out
of the staircase and out onto the training field.
“Yeah, he’s got some kind of illusion or mental
manipulation magic. It’s like he pulled me into his dream somehow, it was very
unusual. It felt like an entirely different world, and it felt very… physical,
very real.” Nilfi moved into a more
prepared stance, staff at the ready.
“Well, that is
something, isn’t it; maybe I was too dismissive of him? Regardless, catch!”
Mimosa shouted as she quickly flung a ball of green flames at the vampire. As
if they were playing a ball game, Nilfi reached out and caught the fire in his
hand, spinning around and pitching it back at the witch. With a grin she shot
bolt of magical energy straight through the flame, dissipating fire while
sending a much faster attack right at Nilfi. Or at least, where he had been
just a moment before; her eyes shot to the left where she spotted the wizard,
whose staff was glowing like a fresh ember. He thrust the end forward pointed right
at her, a massive fiery projectile launching out from the end.
Mimosa quickly evaded, throwing a vial of some
concoction at Nilfi’s feet where it shattered and created a thick plume of
black smoke.
He tapped his staff on the ground and gust of wind
and a brilliant white light shot out from around him. Quickly scanning the
training grounds for the witch, he spun about-face in a flash as he just barely
blocked her silver dagger lunging towards him. She grinned, her other hand
tapping his forehead. Nilfi felt a mystical tinge shoot through her finger. She
jumped back, half prepared for a counterattack, but also watching him
expectantly. For a long moment, they stared at each other, he trying to figure
out what she did to him, her surprised he was still standing.
“What did you do?” Nilfi asked, confused.
“It was a sleep spell, should have knocked you
out cold for at least an hour.” Nilfi chuckled as she said it. “Why didn’t it
work?”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to tell you later, I’ve
got fight to get to!” He said as the bell tolled.
The morning sun shined brightly in the deep-blue sky, where not a single cloud sailed. Gales swept over the land, pulling trees of the forests, the tents of the market, and the flags of Werther Fortress. On midday, the fort's bell tolled, and the tournament guards gathered in the courtyard. Rheinallt's soldiers brought the horses, and the guards mounted them. Three caged wagons were prepared and opened. Nilfi climbed in the first, Noah climbed in the second, and the tournament healers climbed in the third. Once Rodolf, Sir Killian, and the carriage were ready, the gates were opened. The tournament caravan made its way towards the mountains, and the crowd followed from the market. After half an hour journey through warm plains and howling gales, they reached yesterday's arena. Even though the day was brighter, the dark cliffs were not. Spectators took their places in the wooden stands. Judge Gaspar had the highest row with spellsmith Rezar, who was wearing a long white jacket with faint blue patterns, similar to his enchanted tattoos that showed up when he was working in his smithy. Mimosa wasn't watching the match that day. Guards took their positions around the wooden stands and the healers' tent. Sir Killian opened Nilfi's wagon and Rodolf opened Noah's, then the contestants stepped out while the knight opened the healers' wagon. Abyssal priest Kara approached the two fighters. "You both will suffer from pain today, and maybe even feel the release of death," the priest whispered. "Offer me your palms, and I will grant a mark which will keep your souls safe on that moment."
"No, thanks," Nilfi said while smiling and walked to his position in the middle of the valley. Noah offered his palm to the priest, and didn't even flinch from the pain as Kara drew the black symbol. When it was done, the priest walked to the wooden stands and took a place on the top row. Noah arrived to his position, and Captain Rheinallt walked onto the podium. "Welcome to witness the fifth match of the tournament! On our left we have an eccentric vampire wizard; Nilfi, Blood Alchemist!" Applause. "On our right we have an exotic warrior from a dream world; Noah, the Lonely!" Another ovation from the crowd, then Rheinallt turned around, looked at both contestants while the wind howled in the valley, and raised both hands towards the blue sky.
As Rheinallt's announcement of the match's start echoed in the valley, Nilfi prepared his staff and Noah prepared his spear. Strong wind pulled the vampire's red hair, making it seem like his head was on fire. Noah spun his spear quickly around himself, then pointed its tip towards his opponent as he charged. The alchemist parried the thrust with his staff and stepped aside, causing Noah to run past him. The warrior quickly stopped and turned around while horizontally striking with the spear at Nilfi's feet. Knock! The vampire easily blocked the attack by thrusting the bone staff firmly onto the ground, then he pushed his right hand towards Noah, causing a shockwave that pushed the dreamy warrior a couple meters away, but wasn't strong enough to make him fall. As Noah regained his balance, he heard the roar of flames and saw a couple of red fire orbs flying at his direction. He spun his spear in front of him, breaking the orbs into hundreds of sparks that quickly vanished in the air. Nilfi could have cast another quick spell, but instead he decided to watch Noah's next move. The dreamy warrior held the spear with his both hands, took a low stance, and pointed the tip at the vampire again. It seemed like he was preparing for a dash, so Nilfi prepared to defend himself, but then his eyes widened from surprise as another Noah appeared right next to the first Noah, also ready to attack. They both charged at the vampire, and he could only parry one of the spears. The other spear penetrated Nilfi's stomach and its tip stuck out of his back. "Hrg," the vampire groaned, then with a swoosh, he showered Noah's face with fire before he could pull the spear from his body, but that Noah disappeared as quickly as he appeared, along with the spear. The real Noah was behind Nilfi and already swinging his spear horizontally at the alchemist's feet again, making him trip and hit the hard ground with the back of his head. Thud! "Aow!" Nilfi's vision was blurry for a second, but then he saw as Noah thrust his spear at his heart. Or so would have happened if Nilfi didn't roll away, causing the spear's blade to his a rock instead. Clink! Noah looked at Nilfi, who had quickly stood up and his wound had closed after bleeding only a bit of blood.
Nilfi grabbed a potion from his belt, swiftly popped its cap off with his thumb, and took a quick swig which invigorated him. Noah took the stance again, and two more copies appeared, one on his left side, another on the right. "Uh oh," Nilfi said as he took a defensive stance with his bone staff. Like the gales that howled in the distance, Noah and his copies quickly dashed at the vampire with their spears ready. When they were about to hit Nilfi, he jumped above the three Noahs with the support of his staff, then on midair, he turned around and shot a large fire ball at them from the end tip of the staff. The fiery explosion consumed the Noahs, causing the clones to disappear while the real one was engulfed in bright red flames.
"Ahh," Noah screamed, then intentionally fell onto the ground and rolled downhill, causing the flames to die around him. Nilfi followed while smirking, then he watched as Noah quickly stood up, his hair and armor slightly blackened and his exposed skin partly covered in red first-degree burns. His burnt clothes emitted smoke and, judging from the expression on his face, he was quite annoyed. Wind blew around the two contestants, and Nilfi suddenly felt as a spear's blade pierced his back. He looked behind and saw another Noah. Then he grunted as another blade penetrated his chest. Second Noah, and a third, and a fourth one. They all charged at the vampire, thrusting their spears into his sides and thighs.
"Okay," Nilfi said with a gurgling voice and coughed blood. "I think it's my turn now!" Then the alchemist thrust the glowing bone staff onto the ground, causing pillars of light to rise around him that purged all Noahs except the real one, who was unharmed by the bright spell. The dreamy warrior tried to pull his spear from Nilfi's chest, but the vampire grabbed it with his left hand. Noah gritted his teeth, twitching and twisting the spear while Nilfi grinned in pain, blood flowing from his mouth as the bones of his ribcage creaked. "Now," the red-headed contestant said as he flipped his staff upside down and gave the end a quick twist, which popped off the tip and revealed the staff's blade. "Let's see if you can handle my weapon!" He thrust the blade into Noah's left shoulder, between the steel plates of his armor. The dreamy warrior watched in fear as Nilfi's blade started to glow in red, burning the skin, muscle, and bones around his shoulder. Finally, fire emerged from the staff with the roar of a dragon, its brilliant flame threw Noah many meters away. After couple of seconds, the raging dragon flame no longer came from the staff, so Nilfi pulled Noah's spear from his chest, and a splatter of blood followed. Then he dropped the spear and looked at his opponent, who was lying on the ground while grey smoke emitted from his bright red shoulder, where the armor was melting. Nilfi breathed heavily as he walked towards Noah, who slowly rose up to his knees and turned towards the vampire while his hands covered the stab wound. He had dark red third-degree burns around his shoulder, left side of his chest, and left side of his face.
"I've had enough," Noah said, his whole body shaking from pain. "I still have things to do here, so please don't kill me." Nilfi held his left palm over the bleeding wound on his chest.
"My goals do not force me to kill you," the vampire said calmly while smiling. "If we stop now, do you let me win?"
"Yes," Noah said while slowly nodding.
"Oh great," Nilfi said silently as he dropped his staff, then he closed his eyes and collapsed.
I think these two are quite equal when it comes to character design, and their stories were pretty interesting too! So the reason why Nilfi won is because his cards reflected his traits and qualities a bit better than Noah's cards, in my opinion at least.
@Red_Tower - Nilfi's heart got pierced, but he should be able to stand back up and walk to the 2nd round at some time! (And if not by his own, then the healers will help him.) You may create a new version of him or a new signature/companion card, but this time the maximum mana value of those cards is increased to 5!
@CassZero - Noah is defeated, but he survived the battle, and the healers cured his wounds. He has some unfinished business, so you may conclude them and post any cards you've planned for him while the tournament is still in Werther Fortress!
And sorry for keeping you waiting, this took even more time because I got urgent things to do, and now I feel exactly like how Nilfi felt at the end of this match.
No worries about the delays @TenebrisNemo I've been super busy too, especially on weekends, so life happens. (Also great job with the writing as always, with extra praise for the accurate depiction of Nilfi from my point of view.) Well played @CassZero and if you continue your character on in your personal thread I'll be sure to try and check it out. Dream worlds and dream magic are super fun ideas.
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Third Result
"Judge, what happens to the loser again?" Mimosa asked as she kept looking at the tent."
"They are no longer in the tournament, so they will be sent home," Gaspar answered gravely.
"No... No, I won't allow it," the witch said as she stood up. "I want to take him to my tower! He can stay with me as long as he wants." Before Judge Gaspar could protest, Mimosa hurried from the wooden stands to the healers' tent, and left a message to Ytsix before returning with the others to Werther Fortress.
* * * *
This was a hard one. I really like both characters, and their card designs are neat. But I believe Lyuben has more pieces and more room for growth in his story when compared to Ytsix, so with those points, he became the victor. I'm a bit sad to see Ytsix go, as his story bits were so fun to read that I burst in laughter a few times! With the help of Mimosa, he has the option to stay in Werther Fortress for a while longer.
@shadow123 - Lyuben struggled his way to the 2nd round! You may create a new version of him or a new signature/companion card, but this time the maximum mana value of those cards is increased to 5!
@Tommia - Ytsix lost, but you may continue his story and post any cards you have planned for him!
Also, I'm really sorry it took me so long to post this! I was being real careful with this.
~ Shining Like A Dying Star
~ Just Before the Match
Um… are they reading my mind? Ytsix thought as he walked into the library. They went out of our way to pick this place! The last two matches had advantageous positions for one contestant, who emerged the victor… The only advantage I might have here is the low lighting conditions!
"YTSIX! WOOOOO!" The mouse Kavro called out from the audience.
"Go Ytsix! I know you can do it!" Great… how'd she get here? Ytsix looked up in the crowd, and forgot he wasn't the only one impacted by his age reversing device; his sister was in the audience.
"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Ytsix yelled out to her. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"
"Same here, big bro," his sister replied.
"Where's dad? Seriously. I need to know."
"Planeswalking as always."
"I thought he retired."
"So did I, but one day, he decided he was tired of the war on New Tommia and left again."
"THERE'S A WAR?!"
"Yeah…"
"WHY THE F-"
"Ahem." Kara cleared his throat. "You two can finish the family reunion later. For now, your squeaking is terrorizing our eardrums and delaying the match."
“Okay,” Ytsix replies hesitantly.”So… what does… the mark do…? I know in the first match you only marked one contestant… were you rigging the match?”
“You would be foolish to assume that. She refused the mark… this mark keeps you from dying.”
“Wait… so… she… oh no…”
“Don’t get dramatic. All that matters is that you aren’t foolish enough to refuse.”
“Well, um- AHAHAHAHAAHAH! OWOWOWOWOW!”
Ytsix flailed his hand around, recoiling as Kara marked him. He hissed a little, and Kara just shook his head.
“Better than dead, cat. Now into position.”
As the match took its course, Ytsix decided to try out a new modification on his prosthetic, which in theory, should have made the blasts significantly more lethal. However, what happened instead was much more devastating, and to his detriment. The arm malfunctioned, suddenly discharging all of its energy at once… as it broke. The shocking realization of what happened came to mind suddenly; in his haste to prepare for the match, he never listened to Hadid when he told him to fix the major gash in his arm, and it had now turned into a full break in the arm, rendering it nonfunctioning. He tossed the thing aside as blood spilled from his wounds, but it quickly began turning dark and glistening as… something grew from where his prosthetic was. Something he didn’t want public eyes to see, but something he needed if he ever hoped to win the bout.
As metal grew from the stub of his missing arm, black oil began to drip from the emerging blade. Ytsix cried, but his tears were once again black and glistening… he didn’t cry because he was in pain… he cried because he knew what he’d have to do to win.
Blinking from his position, he started unleashing an onslaught of attacks. Few times has he had to go full offensive, but every time, he’s found pressuring his opponents to be an extremely effective strategy. A barrage… but it wasn’t enough this time. As he lie there bleeding from his injuries, his blood was black… his soul clawed desperately to escape, but to no avail, trapping it inside of his body. His body did not want to be brought back to life, but alas, it finally gave into the magic, but the emergence of his new arm was made permanent by the ordeal, a weapon he had no power to withdraw.
~ ...in the darkness...
Meanwhile, in Ytsix’s mind, it seemed as though someone was reaching out to him. He feared… what if the mark didn’t work? He was as good as dead. However, something touched him… a voice of judgement, slightly ashamed of the outcome of the match.
“This… is quite an unforeseen turn of events,” the voice, old and wise, speaks.
“Who… who are you?”
“My name is not important. What is important is that you have failed…”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“When you broke the barrier between planes and lived to tell the tale, I knew great things awaited you, but alas, you are not as strong as I had hoped…”
“This… was a test?”
“Correct. These last four tournaments have been tests… I thought that one day you could be my champion, but alas, you are not worthy…”
“Who are you though?”
“That is not important! If you must know some context, there are dark forces on the horizon… this multiverse needs a savior.”
“Savior? I’m no savior… I’m just an inventor.”
“Yet your will is strong… while you are not worthy of becoming my champion, you are worthy to return to your rightful home. You have garnered a great reputation back there, and while I cannot say your fighting days are over, you can at least fight to protect those you know and love…”
“Really!”
“Yes… you have a week to say goodbye to anyone you’ve met here and prepare yourself. Upon the last day, you shall be taken back to Elysium...”
Sparring Partners
Your heroes may be even better prepared for their matches by fighting against living, breathing, and thinking opponents rather than wooden defenseless dummies that never attack you. Some of your heroes have fought against each other, but if they wish, they can also challenge certain people in Werther Fortress for a sparring match.Rheinallt's Soldiers
Art: Septimius Ferdian H.
The soldiers lived in the fort long before your heroes and the tournament hosts arrived there. Most of them are young men from nearby towns and cities, and they've all had basic combat training. But they're rookies (1/1 white Soldier creature tokens) without any special skills or abilities. They uphold the law in the region, go on minor missions (e.g. find missing people, track down lawbreakers, or exterminate common monsters) and ensure the safety of roads and towns. Whenever a soldier has served in the fort for a year or two, they either change careers or travel to an important city where they work and study to become a knight. New recruits come to the fortress all the time, mostly at the end of summer.
If your hero wants to warm-up their combat abilities or take on multiple opponents at once, then they may ask these people to spar with them.
Rodolf
Rodolf is a master of stealth and underhand tactics, able to kill his targets without them ever knowing what hit them. This involves traps, poisons, and ambushes. He is also capable of performing swift kills, just in case someone needs to be quickly silenced. Your heroes may not know when they are being watched by the assassin, when he's right behind them and ready to cut their throat open. He is armed with a longsword, a bow, arrows, daggers, and throwing weapons. He also prefers evasion and movement speed, so he usually just wears dark clothing/leather armor which help conceal him in shadows.
If your hero wants to test their mettle against someone who performs tricks, takes advantages, and plays dirty, then they can challenge Rodolf to a sparring match. Just don't expect a fair fight!
Sir Killian
Honorable hunter knight, Sir Killian is an experienced warrior who has fought in wars against Stelladorans and monsters of the abyss, mostly with the latter. Powerful and fast, he is able to inflict devastating attacks with his greatsword and other melee weapons, such as warhammers, polearms, and one-handed swords. Well-prepared for battles he expects, equipping himself with suitable gear for different situations. He prefers armors such as gambesons, hauberks, scalemail, and (especially) platemail.
If your hero wants to test their strength and skill against various melee weapons and armor types, then they can just say the word and Sir Killian will face them in a sparring match. Your hero may also challenge him with other heroes at the same time.
Mimosa
While Mimosa is specialized in potions, she is still a witch who is able to cast basic spells and curses on her opponents (e.g. fire arcane bolts, shatter minds, slow opponents down, make them sleepy/sick.) She can also control roots, plants, and branches to injure/seize her opponents, turn them into a frog, and use a monster vial which she throws on the ground, causing it to explode and become a temporal green ooze creature that chases and tries to devour the being/object closest to it.
If your hero wants to test their capabilities against a magic-user, then they should pay Mimosa a visit and ask her for a friendly sparring match where she may just play with your hero at first before throwing everything she's got at them.
Also, don't you all think we have forgotten something? That's right, I haven't posted a tournament bracket here even though we've already had three matches! But worry no longer, I have made the bracket now, and you can check it from the link below!
Tournament of Champions 4 Bracket
3rd Floor | Room 1: Hadid | Room 2: Soundweaver | Room 3: Sturgar | Room 4: Cypherous |
2nd Floor | Room 1: Iseabel | Room 2: Ytsix | Room 3: Noah | Room 4: Arn |
1st Floor | Room 1: Damien | Room 2: Imilia | Room 3: Arha | Room 4: Conscience |
Lost contestants' rooms are empty.
Chapter Nine - The First Victory
Lyuben’s eyes fluttered open as he laid on a bed in the healing tent. The fuzzy outline of a girl faded into view as he woke up. His hand immediately flew to his stomach where he had been shot. The wound had disappeared. He then focused back on the girl. It was Cecilia. She was dressed in a dazzling purple velvet gown. She wore a shiny pearl necklace too. Her outfit was clearly expensive, and it made Lyuben uncomfortable. He wasn't ready for the people in the tournament to learn his real status.
Well, she certainly is flaunting her money...
“Wh-what happened?”
“Well, you died-” Cecilia started.
“I...what!?”
“Wait...no! After you killed the cat-”
“He’s dead?!”
“No no no...you both had the mark on you! After you killed the cat, you bled to death from your gun wound,” Cecilia said.
“So that’s what they call it…” Lyuben mused. He stopped and shifted the conversation back on topic, “But, who won?”
Cecilia opened her mouth to respond, but there was a loud noise that interrupted Cecilia as the doors flung open. A witch came running in: Imilia.
“Lyuben! You did it! You won!” she shouted.
C̷̞͗o̶͇͛ǹ̸̩ǧ̷͍r̷͉̂ã̸̰ṯ̵͋u̸̱̓l̵̯̂à̷͚t̵͉̂ì̴̻o̶̱͌n̴̜̾s̵̯͋,̶̥̑ ̸̻͒L̵̦̀y̵͎̍u̷̯͋b̴̹̃ě̶͍ń̴̼.̴̖̈ ̸̫̏Ĩ̷̳ ̷͖̓m̵̝̿ṳ̸̓s̸̩̏t̸̖̍ ̶͕̂s̵͕̋a̴̮͠ẏ̸̯,̵͉̽ ̶̠̈́Ĭ̶̱ ̸̛̣h̴̲͐a̴͇͛ḑ̸͂ ̷̧̂m̸̋ͅy̵̨̎ ̵̫́d̷̳͂o̸̲̒u̸͎̇b̸̭̏t̶̜͆ṣ̶̑,̷́ͅ ̴̙̈́b̸͍̓ṵ̸̇t̷̛̲ ̵͖̈́y̴̠̓o̶͎͋u̴̢͝ ̵̝̕b̵̖̀a̵̗͑t̶̅ͅt̶̰͠ĺ̴̜ë̴̻d̷̋͜ ̶̯͊ḣ̵͙a̷͚̽r̵̢͛d̷͐ͅ.̸̧͝
Lyuben shook the voice out of his head, and pushed himself up to a sitting position to greet Imilia. Kara glared at her. Imilia made a somewhat apologetic gesture to Kara, then continued toward Lyuben more quietly.
“Lyuben, who is this?” Cecilia asked. Lyuben could hear her voice rise a little. Was it out of fear? Jealousy? Something else?
Imilia turned to face Cecilia. “Imila Haas, Junior Consul at Baltenainne.”
They shook hands, but Lyuben could see the distrust in both of their expressions as they looked at each other.
“I’m Cecilia. Cecilia Barath, one of Lyuben’s friends from his kingdom.”
“His kingdom? What kingdom?” Imilia asked. Her eyes lit up curiously. Lyuben could tell she was interested in his past. Something Lyuben most definitely was not.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Cecilia laughed, “Lyuben’s-”
Lyuben glared warningly at Cecilia, and she stopped.
“Lyuben, what kingdom?” Imilia asked sweetly.
Lyuben gulped. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. Lyuben didn’t want to talk about them. Just mentioning his parents deeply bothered him.
Lyuben glanced at the two girls next to him.
“I think...I’m healthy enough to leave...” Lyuben staggered to his feet, then proceeded carefully out the tent.
“Lyuben, wait!!” both girls yelled, “Come back!” They ran outside the tent together to chase Lyuben, but he was nowhere to be found.
“He’s gone already…” Cecilia sighed. Imilia nodded in agreement.
“Oh, Lyuben. Just you wait…” Imilia muttered to herself.
Cecilia shook her head and stepped closer to Imilia. She stared menacingly into Imilia’s mysterious eyes. “Look here, little witch. Whatever you do, don’t try and touch Lyuben. His parents want him home-”
The warmth Imilia and Cecilia expressed to Lyuben had completely disappeared. Both of them were rather cold to each other. They were like two hunters fighting for the same prey.
“And I know that you’re deceiving Lyuben. You know his parents intentions aren’t good. That, I can easily read off your expression.”
“He has problems. His parents need to sort it out. His mom explained it all. I was wrong in ever helping Lyuben and his boyfriend before.”
Cecilia stepped closer to Imilia, trying to intimidate the powerful witch. Her face was now right in front of the witch’s face. Both expressions bore expressions of hatred. Imilia was unaffected by Cecilia’s tactics.
“Who are Lyuben’s parents anyways?” Imilia inquired.
“That is of no importance to you,” Cecilia snapped back, “All I want is for you to stay out of this. This is a problem between Lyuben and his family.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Imilia sneered, “If I want something, I always get it in the end. Trust me.”
Imilia’s hand flew to her jar of flies as she started to draw a sigil in the air.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Cecilia smirked.
The sound of a blade leaving its sheath rang through the morning air. Imilia turned around, finding Ryan holding a shining steel sword, ready to strike her down.
“You think a simple knight can defeat me?” Imilia laughed, “I’ll kill both of you.”
Then, Arin strode into Imilia’s view in a calm, yet menacing demeanor. Imilia slowly lowered her hand. She could sense the powerful magic Arin could wield. Unlike Lyuben, Arin had years of training. Even more than Imilia herself.
Imilia smiled wickedly. “You’ve won this battle, Cecilia,” she stated, “But this game’s definitely not over. I’ve got plenty more pieces to play…”
Imilia walked away confidently, purposely bumping into Cecilia’s shoulder as she left.
“Good,” Cecilia commanded, “Now, we must go find Lyuben. We don’t have much time before Lyuben realizes that I intend to take him back home to Malterra.”
Chapter 6 (Tournament) - Four Of A Kind
Arn observed the recent confrontation between Ystix and Lyuben. Compared to the prior match between Hadid and Damien, It was clear that when it came to magic Lyuben lacked control just as Arn did with his wild magic. Granted Damien relied too much on close combat and Hadid had extensive knowledge of his skills which made this an unfair comparison.Unlike wild magic which was naturally unpredictable and hard to master, Lyuben had raw power but lacked skill, It was akin to giving a child a sharp dagger only for them to go hunt apples with it, though Arn dared not underestimate the fighter yet since he sensed the same power that had drawn his intrigue before, he kept note of some weaknesses and then when he began to get bored, he left for the fort grounds.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Arn sat at the top of the fort's roofs observing the soldiers chatter about their exploits and excersise their bravado.
The soldiers in the ground had clearly seen battle, but they clearly lacked humbling. They had never had a near death experience from how they bragged and had only fought things within their grasp. In essence they had the experience but lacked the understanding.
Arn realizing he was a little bored decided that a little fun couldn't hurt anyone so he approached the four soldiers and challenged them to a match.
Arn: "You all look like a seasoned bunch of fighters" Arn approached with arms out in the open as if nothing to hide "Perhaps you lads can offer me some excitement?"
The fighters turned around clearly unnerved by the aura Arn was exerting. There was a moment of silence where the winds could be heard whispering and the clouds could be seen swimming but Arn once again broke the silence.
Arn: "Oh what was I thinking, ofcourse you are not the experienced soldiers I mistook you for" Arn said goading them as he tugged discreetly on their ego.
Etzar: "You champions always act so cocky. I would put you in your place if it was worth the time right now."
Arn: "A reward you say?" Arn said smugly reaching into his left pocket and pulling out the 500 coins he had gotten from Rheinhallt.
Arn: "Tell you what, you can have these coins if you can best me in combat. Surely a seasoned fighter like you should be able to best me"
Etzar: "That isn't a fair trade, I know you champions got your magic backing you up"
Arn unhinged the cleaver on his back that he only used to hunt quary with and placed it on the ground, he did the same for all his spare daggers all except one even though he doubted he would need it.
Arn: "I am a being of standards. If you still doubt me, you can all fight me at once and since I can't die, no need to hold back."
"He must be bluffing" the soldiers whispered to themselves, "he must take us for a fool" they continued, before a Etzar the leader of the bunch interrupted
Etzar: "We have fought far worse things than you, we have bested abyssal monsters and killed beasts, beating you up shouldn't be that hard. Besides you are in need of some desperate humbling" He said charging at Arn.
Arn dodged the wide swings of Etzar's broadsword, making his sword skills look like child play and with each swing Etzar getting angrier and angrier . He danced around the clumsy soldier before placing a foot infront of his boot tripping him.
The soldier infuriated got up and told the other soldiers to stay back as he rushed in once again using a mix of swings, kicks and pushes, all to no avail.
Arn: *Yawn*
Arn: "Are you done yet?" Arn mocked
Now all the soldiers rushed in at once all irked by Arn's percived overcomfidence. For soldiers without much combat knowledge they did have a syrenegy, which hinted to Arn a sense of closeness between them leading him to believe that they must have been in the same combat battalion, either way it made no difference to the outcome of this fight.
Their swings were now a mix of speed and power as Arn began to move more seriously, he dodged broadside after short sword, and ducked around strikes that would have killed inexperienced fighters. The swords parried with each evasion he made as he used his right hand to knockdown a soldier and his left leg to trip another. He was gentle with them as his intent was not at all to kill them for if it was this battle would have reached a conclusion minutes in the passing.
The soldier on the ground then kicked dust in an attempt to obscure Arn's vision and while it didn't work, it served as a good distraction for Etzar to get in a lucky slash with his broadsword on Arn's right shoulder drawing a black ichor from him.
The atmosphere changed immediately as Arn let out a wide grin under his mask and then with far greater speed than before turned and grabbed the sword with his bare hands the force unleashed crushing the Iron sword with ease, he then flipped Etzar launching him to a nearby tree. Arn then turned around quickly and elbowed an unfotunate soldier severely denting his platemail, followed by a kick to the third soldier launching him to a nearby tree as he threw his dagger in the process intentionally missing the soldier's neck by an inch.
Arn was feeling the thrill of battle and with a closed fist he now charged the soldier who had kicked dust in his eyes as an aura of malice made the soldier freeze in fear, but right when Arn was about to hit the soldier full force Arn stopped, "Now is not the time" he whispered to himself as he pulled back his fist collecting himself, he then extended his hand to the soldier who took it with hesitation.
Arn: "Sorry I almost forgot I wasn't fighting prey " Arn said as he returned to his usual state.
He picked up his items and tossed a sack of 250 coins to the standing soldier.
Arn: "You made for good amusement. Buy your friends some drinks at a tavern, or bandages. Whichever you deem necessary is none of my business, but if I were you I'd rather drink away any memory of such humiliation"
Arn then pocketed the remaining coins and walked away to his quarters to await the next match.
(Conclusion)
Nuit la plus courte et la plus lounge
Imilia often had trouble sleeping before important or uncertain events. The night before her acceptance letter arrived, for example. Or the night before she submitted her Journeymage application. The night before she left home for Baltenainne. The night before she confessed to Han. The night before she entered the Tournament.The night before her first match, after setting out a jar of honey on the windowsill, (to capture more flies for her jar) neatly folding her uniform and setting it near the door, taking down her hair, kissing her trunk gently on the lid, and getting into bed, Imilia fell asleep instantly.
There was no uncertainty in her mind.
"Well, That's jus' about done!" Zordroth stepped, back, wiping the sweat from his brow and stretching his back.
Sturgar rose from his workbench, examining himself. Although there was a smith at the contender's disposal at the fortress, Sturgar was slow to trust. What was to say that wasn't in the pocket of another fighter, feeding them information of the competition? No, it was far safer with Zordroth, who had only recently arrived by ship. He had set up a temporary workshop in the market, and Sturgar now stood in the small, dark, rented basement space.
"So to the best of our knowledge, the chic you're fighting needs to touch you to do her magicky gobbledegook, so I added a heating element to your armor. He pointed to the orange crystal clamped into Sturgar's opened chest piece. It glowed faintly, two steel-lined pipes drilled to it, conducting it's searing heat through his body.
"Courtesy of your employer's enchanter friend. Very rare, and very hot." Zordroth pulled out a screwdriver, slotting layers and layers of shaped steel plates back into place, rebuilding Sturgar's torso. "Now your fleshy interior'll be fine. The inner layer is well insulated, but don't keep this thing on too long, or it'll get stuffy. Go on, try it out." The blacksmith removed his goggles, smiling.
Sturgar stretched, clenched his hands into fists, then whipped his arms outwards, flicking his hands open in one rapid swoop. A burst of heat and light erupted from the seams of his armor with a low hum, and the surface of his body heated near instantly, turning orange and flickering with inner light and flame. He looked at his forearm, impressed.
"Thanks to the tungsten in that alloy, your armor won't lose any rigidity, and that kinda heat is enough to melt a person's skin. So if she gets touchy, the clerics'll spend the next three hours un-cooking her hand." Zordroth chuckled, handing Sturgar a roughly chopped oak log. "Hold this for a sec."
As his armored hand gasped the log, Sturgar marveled as the wood began to blacken, hissing and popping, before a small flame appeared near his palm. He grinnind and dropped it into the bucket of water at his feet. He flicked his wrists again, and the glow faded, his armor returning to it's usual golden luster. He dropped a heavy sac of gold into the smith's waiting palm. shook his hand, and left, excited. This would be no problem. He walked back to the fortress, a spring in his step. Along the road, he found an orange-sized stone, tossed it in the air, and struck it with his mace in a swift motion, sending the rock whistling into the air and towards the forest, never to be seen again.
First Round
Fourth Match
Art: Ferdinand Ladera
Chapter Ten - Warning
Clouds filled the morning sky as Lyuben woke up late the next day. The sun's rays filtered through the tiny holes within the thick shield of clouds that tried to hold the light back. Lyuben smiled. Nothing could stop the sun. Day always came. No matter what happened the night before.
Lyuben quickly changed out of his blue silk pajamas into his cheap robes, pausing momentarily to examine the cheap material the he had been wearing in public ever since he left home.
Is it better that people know I'm the prince of Malterra?
Lyuben shook his head. “If people knew, my parents would find out I’m here. They would drag me home in an instant...especially if they knew I was practicing magic.”
Lyuben stepped out of his room into the hall he looked back at the mirror he had destroyed on his first day here.
Control...I need more control…
He waved shyly to Nilfi, another champion living next to him, before descending three flights of stairs to reach the ground floor. Both Imilia and Conscience lived in rooms on the first floor. They were the most mysterious, yet somehow the most fascinating contenders Lyuben had seen so far.
Imilia strode out of her room confidently.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Lyuben exclaimed, “Your match is today. Good luck, Imilia!”
Imilia smiled. “Thanks Lyuben. I doubt I’ll need any luck to beat the Soundweaver though,” she laughed.
I wish I had her confidence…
Lyuben saw as Conscience rolled her eyes as she listened in to their conversation.
“Well, I’ll see you around, Imilia,” Lyuben said as he started towards the door, “I’ll be rooting for-”
The glass door flung open, slamming Lyuben in the face. Lyuben fell over, hitting his head on the hard white wall.
“Ow…”
Lyuben looked up to see a handsome man standing over him with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder and a sword on his back. He reached out his hand to help Lyuben up. Lyuben stared at the man for a moment in awe, before something snapped him out of his trance.
“Hey, Lyuben,” Ayden said, “You okay?”
“Oh...yeah...of-of course. I’m the okayest I could ever be!”
Lyuben grabbed onto Ayden’s soft hand to help himself up.
“Ayden!” Lyuben smiled, “What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”
The cleric could see Imilia frown slightly at Ayden.
“Well…I pulled a few strings, and I managed to get a message that I had to deliver here.”
“And the message?” Lyuben asked.
“I wrote it and got my friend to send it, requesting me to deliver it. I have a great reputation so my boss suspected nothing!” Ayden explained, “I made up a story to get a few weeks off too. I did want to watch the tournament, after all.”
Ayden came all the way here to see me?
“Okay, back on topic…” Ayden shifted the conversation, “I wanted to tell you that you’re in danger.”
“Me? What?”
“There are people within this very fortress looking to capture you. Manipulative people.”
Imilia’s body tensed a little as she listened in to the conversation. Conscience took note of Imilia’s odd behavior as she listened in too.
“Who? Why?” Lyuben pressed.
“I have no idea who they are. But I know it has to do with your title as Prince of Malterra. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…”
Lyuben looked around. He suddenly realized that the two people he definitely didn’t want to know he was of nobility knew about his high status.
“Maybe...we should talk about this later?” Lyuben asked, “I- I just don’t-”
“Gotcha,” Ayden smiled. “I do have a message to deliver after all. See you tonight.”
Ayden gave Lyuben a cute wink and then left.
“Lyuben, you’re a prince?” Imilia asked sweetly. She seemed intrigued, yet confused.
“Why did you come here?” Conscience added, “To the tournament?”
“I- I think I have to go,” Lyuben responded, dodging the question, “Good luck today, Imilia.”
Lyuben pushed open the glass door and disappeared into the morning air.
First Round
Fourth Conclusion
Signature // Arena // Signature
Fourth Result
While I guess it was pretty clear who was going to win, I still wished to see more of Soundweaver during his time in this tournament, since I have a soft spot for wandering minstrels (not the kind who try to charm every single enemy they encounter!)
@Usaername - Imilia slices her way to the 2nd round! You may create a new version of her or a new signature/companion card, but this time the maximum mana value of those cards is increased to 5!
@AxNoodle - Soundweaver tasted death, but is brought back to life thanks to Kara's mark. You may post his concluding chapter of his tournament journey and post any cards you had planned for him!
The Tournament Bracket has been updated!
Chapter Eleven - Tower Visit
Imilia had won. Though even the Soundweaver had managed to give Imilia great difficulty. Lyuben thought of the dagger Imilia held. The horrific scene of her stabbing the bard’s neck replayed over and over in his mind. As it did, Lyuben could see the figures transform from Imilia to his mother and the Soundweaver to his boyfriend.
F̶͈͂e̴͇̓e̵͇̅l̷͕͠i̷͎̾n̴̥̊ḡ̸͎ ̷̗͛s̴̪̕e̵͔͠n̵̬̓t̸̚͜í̷̲m̵̱̓ė̷͔n̷̟͒ť̷̟al?
What do you want with me? Lyuben asked the voice while wiping away a silvery tear from his left eye. Why do you keep bothering me?
B̵͇̓ĕ̷̯c̴̻̊a̵̙̅u̷̳͗s̷̯̏e̶̥̾ ̸̤͠I̸̱̾ ̵̼̒k̶̰̂n̶̥̽o̴͔͗ẅ̶̫́ s̴̗̎o̷̹̓ ̸̻͋ṃ̶͆u̶̜͝ć̶͎h̵̻͋ ̸̛̘à̵̦b̴̜͘ơ̵̰ȕ̸̜t̶̛̻ ̸͓̾ý̴͕ŏ̶̳u̵̪̐ S̷̼͋õ̵̢ ̶̲̇m̸̹͝ṳ̷̀c̵̲̽h̵͈̉ ̸̺͐ẗ̸̖́h̴̦̔a̸̛̻t̴̨̄ ̴̯̀ỵ̷̔ó̸̮u̴͓͂ ̶͙̉a̶̭̅r̴̥̾e̵̪̐ ̴̟̑y̸̳̑è̶̲t̶̪̋ ̶̫́t̵̲͒ò̷̦ ̸̧͛d̷͕͘i̴͉͝ş̸̽c̴̺͘o̷͎̕v̸̧͛e̶̺̋r̴̛̼ Ỳ̶͔ó̸̮u̴̲̒ ̵̬̅ă̵͚ṛ̴̍e̸̮͑ ̷͜͝s̷̰̅o̷̬͛ ̵̢̔m̶̹͑ų̴͌c̸̨̏h̴̬̓ ̶̮̇m̴̠̾o̸̙̔r̶͎̚ẽ̴̘ ̵̩͠t̷̡̏h̴̘̃ạ̴̍ñ̷̪ ̶̦͐y̵̛͖o̸̙͋u̵͇̇ ̶̗̉t̷̗͐h̵̠̍i̸͓̽n̶̯̏k̸̘̈́,̴̣̇ ̵̩̈́L̴̪̓y̶͜͝u̵̥̇b̵͔̔e̸͉͌n̵̹̿.̷̺͋ ̶̲͠T̶̻͐h̶͔̓a̶͉͘ṯ̸́'̶̼̇s̸̭̃ ̴̗͗ẉ̵͗h̴̨̋ỹ̶͜ ̴͉̎Ḭ̵͂ ̶̖͝ḿ̸̦u̴̯͆s̵̝̽t̷͕̏ ̵̰̓ǵ̴͉e̸̘͠t̴͒͜ ̶̮̔t̵̼̀o̸͉̎ ̷͍̊y̷̺̾o̵̮͝ȗ̸̲ ̸͍̓b̶̦̾e̷͎͒f̷̟̀o̸̰͂ŕ̸̬ę̵̚ ̷̠̓t̷̰͝h̴̫̍ḛ̷̓ o̸̺̔t̷͖͒h̴̯̿ë̴̩́r̷͍̽s̷̖̅.̴̩̏
Is this some sort of game? Lyuben yelled at the voice in his head.
Ó̵͇h̵̑͜,̶͎̆ ̶̼̔n̶͙̒o̸͈̎.̵̯́.̶̠̈.̸̢̇t̵̪̍h̸̜͐i̵̹͝s̶͈̓ ̵̜̇i̵̭̎ṡ̵̡ ̸͇͐n̸̯͆ơ̸͈ṱ̷͘ ̶̨̌a̵̡̓ ̵̰͑g̶͠ͅȁ̴̜m̴̠͂è̶̝.̸̺̊ ̶̨̚Õ̴͎ń̷͈ ̷̰͑t̴͕̏h̷͙͝e̷̫̋ ̷̜̎ç̷̊o̴̫̐n̶̩̆t̶̩̚r̸̛͈a̶̠͒r̶̟̕y̴̰͝,̸̼͊ ̶̣͑ẏ̸̙o̴̝̿ṷ̷̍ ̴̪̈́m̷͈̍i̷̥̓ǵ̵̠h̶͔͆t̷͉̚ ̶̺́f̴̬̑i̸̠̋ń̷̠d̸̯̂ ̶͍̽t̸̨̾ȟ̷̩â̴͔t̶̹̂ ̸̗̆t̶̛͎ḩ̶̍ì̵̬s̷̏͜ ̴͍̕i̶͍͊s̵͉͑ ̶͎͌q̷͚̆u̴̲͋ǐ̸̙ẗ̸́ͅe̵͚͝ ̴̿ͅẗ̶͓́h̸̥͒e̶̬͑ ̵̞͒s̶͚̀e̵̪̕r̸͓̈́i̵̠͠o̴͇͋ǘ̶͙s̴̲̉ ̷̘͊ṣ̷̚i̵̗͒t̸̗͝ų̵̽ȃ̷͙t̶̾ͅi̶̮̓o̵̺͌n̸͕̔.̴͈͒
Stop talking nonsense! What is it that you want?
Y̴̢̌ơ̵̩u̶̫͌'̵̗̂l̵͖̈l̵̤̎ ̸͚̅f̶̲͋i̸͓̽ṉ̷̋d̴͔̾ ̸̢̾ŏ̴͇ụ̸͊t̵̺̋ c̶̘̃h̴̠͋i̴̥̔l̴̜̑d̵̛̝.̶̪͠ ̸̝͆F̷̭̕o̸͇͘r̴̹̿ ̸̡̌ǹ̷̙o̴̪͆w̸̳̔,̴̬̈́ ̷̮̈́v̵̮̋ĭ̶̖ṣ̴͒i̴̜̅t̵͔͑ḯ̵̝n̵͕͠g̴̰͊ ̷̹̂t̷͎̿h̶̼̽ḁ̴̈́t̷̗̑ ̷̧̄o̴̤͋l̵̹̍d̶̤̆ ̵̣̈t̶͙̂ỏ̴͕w̸̤͑ȇ̶͉ṙ̵̭ ̵̣̈́m̷̬͝i̷̒ͅg̸̳̕h̴̻͋t̴̥̓ ̶̡̽d̶̰͝o̴̰͛ ̵̮̚y̵̻̔ơ̷̖ŭ̴͎ ̸̱͊š̵̪õ̸̭m̸̜͊e̷͍̐ ̸͇̎g̷̤̏o̵̻͝o̷̹͘ď̸̼.̵̰̑
Lyuben stopped in front of a tall, run down tower. He looked up. Green smoke billowed into the afternoon sky, blocking out what little light broke through the low clouds.
“Might as well go in…”
Lyuben put his hand carefully on the bronze handle. He pushed the door slightly open, revealing a long, circular staircase. The only source of light was a lantern at the very top. Lyuben could barely see anything on the ground.
The runaway prince carefully stepped inside. He looked back suspiciously, then started to climb the stairs.
“What could be up there?” Lyuben whispered to himself.
Y̸͎͐ẻ̶̖s̸̮̓.̵͇͌.̴̖͝.̷͉̋g̶̞̋o̷̩͝ ̸̩͐c̴̣̀l̶̤̚ö̵̦́s̶͉̋e̸͖͑r̴̘̅,̵͈̽ ̸̭̃Ľ̸͜y̸͈͊u̴̠̍b̷͓͆e̶̺͗n̸̝̐.̶͉̾ ̴̳̎K̷̜̈é̵̱e̶̗̿p̶̒ͅ ̷̠̓g̶̩͆ǒ̴͈i̷̤͌n̶̮̿g̸̭͑.̵̹͗.̵̬̎.̶̻̈́
Lyuben nodded to himself.
Why am I listening to that voice? Why am I so curious..?
As Lyuben climbed the concrete stairs, his footsteps echoed through the dark chamber. As he got closer and closer to the top, he could hear bubbling noises, perhaps of some liquid in a...science experiment? A slam echoed through the old stairwell.
Lyuben jumped, checking to see what it was. The door was shut.
How odd…
When he finally reached the top of the stairwell, he saw a short hall with an old wooden door at the end. The door was slightly open.
“Yes, yes, yes…” he heard a female voice say from behind the door.
Lyuben placed his hand on the rusted handle and the door creaked open. The room was filled with mysterious objects.There were shelves and tables lined with books, scrolls, potions, plants, animal skulls, trinkets, candles, ink bottles, and quills. A silver dagger, a chalice, a crystal ball, an hourglass, and a black cauldron sat around a fireplace on the left side of the room.
In the middle in a center table were bubbling potions and concoctions. There were many open books and random papers scattered on and around the table. The room was messy, to say the least.
In contrast to the rest of the room, a girl stood by a small window that mysteriously highlighted her young features. She had long blonde hair and wore a black dress that fell neatly around her feet.
“Were you never taught to knock on the door?” the girl asked.
“O-oh sorry.”
“Not a problem,” she replied curtly, “Mimosa is my name. I am a witch who specializes in potions, poisons, soups, and other concoctions. I have many requests, and am very busy. What brings you here?”
“I was...just curious…” Lyuben said.
“Curious, eh?” Mimosa asked. Mimosa walked a few steps closer to Lyuben. “What about?”
“Well…” Lyuben started. He pulled his mysterious rose out of his pocket. “I thought, maybe you might know more about this?”
The witch recoiled slightly.
“What?”
“That rose…” Mimosa whispered, “That’s the last Blood Rose in existence.”
“What do you mean? Blood rose?”
“Have you heard of Emperor Rakhadi?”
“Of course,” Lyuben confirmed, “He used to rule where my...uh...the kingdom I come from is.”
Mimosa gave Lyuben a weird look.
“The terrifying mages of the Dusk Rose legion each carried a rose like that.”
Mimosa put her palm out, asking for the rose.
“I- I can’t. I just don’t understand,” Lyuben refused.
“Understand what?” the girl prompted.
“Well...you see…,” Lyuben started. Lyuben put his hand to his eyes to wipe the tears away from his face before they even formed.
“Take your time.”
“My boyfriend. My dead boyfriend. He carried this rose. H-he was killed by my parents a few weeks before I came to this tournament. That’s when I ran away to come here.”
“Your boyfriend had this rose? How?”
“I- I don’t know?”
The witch breathed in sharply, then turned around and grabbed a small vial. It was filled with a deep purple fluid.
“This rose. A blood rose,” Mimosa explained, “It carries great amounts of abyssal, dark magic. I’ve been experimenting with it recently, outside of my orders I’ve had recently.”
The witch poured a drop of the liquid on a small cactus. The liquid was extremely viscous as it dropped out of the vial. The moment it touched the cactus, it started to wither. Within seconds, the cactus was dead.
“Your rose carries similar magic,” the witch continued, “Every petal has dark magic one hundred times as powerful as this concoction.”
The witch gestured to the mysterious vial as she talked. “Each thorn on the stem,” she said, “is as sharp as a silver dagger. Those who don’t know how to use these roses die. It is so easy to lose control of such magic. That’s why it’s so dangerous. That’s why it’s so feared.”
Lyuben held the stem up and pressed it to his skin gently. It pierced through his soft skin. Lyuben almost let out a scream, but managed to catch himself.
“I never knew that…” he said, “Why does this rose have these powers?”
“They were merely a symbol of the dusk rose legion. It was a symbol of their resistance against the gods. Even within something so beautiful like a rose and its petals, there are always thorns. Everything good has its downsides. These roses contributed to just a fraction of the power the dark mages held. Something tells me that you hold that same power. The same powers as Rakhadi.”
“Me? But-”
“I saw how you battled Ytsix,” Mimosa remarked, cutting off Lyuben, “That was just a fraction of your power you’ve learned to control. I know there’s much more there…”
“How am I supposed to learn to control it? I don’t know most of my powers. I don’t know my history. I don’t know my friends! Who am I, Mimosa? Who am I?”
She grinned creepily. “Well, I think we’ll see. People learn so much about another after just a simple fight.”
Lyuben stepped back, moving closer to the one exit in the room. “You want to duel me?”
Mimosa nodded. “That’s to say you want to train. I don’t pretend to be an expert, ya know.”
Lyuben looked at Mimosa, then at the rose in his hand. “I- I guess I do want to learn. But there’s no cost or something?”
“Perfect. I don’t normally help heroes, but you... you intrigue me Lyuben. You are the payment. There is still much I need to learn despite everything I know.”
Mimosa waved her hand, casting a spell on the various items in her room. This kept them safe from any basic spells that could destroy them. Then, Mimosa raised her other hand elegantly, firing a bolt of magic towards Lyuben.
The boy ducked and the arcane bolt collided with the brick wall, sending sparks everywhere.
“Agh!” Lyuben exclaimed as a few sparks burnt his face.
“I know you’ve got more than that!” she stated calmly, “Show me that magic you possess.”
Lyuben turned and fled the room. He hurried into the dark stairwell, trying to evade Mimosa’s multiple spells. She was definitely powerful.
“You can’t win if you run, Lyuben,” Mimosa’s voice echoed through the chamber. She tossed a green vial down the center of the stairway. It exploded midair, causing a green slime to form in front of Lyuben. Mimosa strode calmly down the stairs, trapping Lyuben.
“Use them. Use your powers!” L̸̮͛e̷͍̅t̸̟͠ ̵͍͆i̵̦͋t̷̰͂ ̸͖̅a̶͈̔l̵̰̂l̸̫̓ ̴͖́g̵̙͒ō̴̜.̷̙̆.̸̦͒.̸͊ͅ
Lyuben conjured a circle of dark flames around him, flaying the outer layer of the slime as it oozed towards him.
“That’s it... yes!”
Lyuben launched a dark bolt of energy towards Mimosa. Mimosa didn’t flinch. A light blue shield formed around the girl, deflecting the spell before dissipating into the air.
Mimosa pressed forward, firing more glowing arcane bolts towards Lyuben. Lyuben’s dark flames devoured most of the magic, but Lyuben was forced to move to the far edge of his fire circle. The monstrous ooze still waited for him at the edge.
The witch took another vial out of a pocket in her black dress. This vial had red smoke contained inside the thin glass container. “Fight back, Lyuben!” Mimosa threw the vial in the center of the fire. As the vial shattered on the ground, a shockwave spread through the area, knocking Lyuben off his feet.
Lyuben face planted onto the concrete floor, causing his nose to start bleeding. He tried to push himself up, but Mimosa cast another spell, sapping the strength out of his arms. The protective flames around Lyuben dwindled out and the ooze slowly approached Lyuben. The cleric tried to focus his energy into his hands, but only a dim light formed in his hands.
“I- I can’t…”
Mimosa waved her hand once more, causing the ooze to vanish. She then helped Lyuben to his feet and took out a cloth from her pocket. She rubbed it on Lyuben’s bloody nose. The cut healed instantly.
Mimosa then helped Lyuben to his feet. “Let’s try again.”
Lyuben groaned, but readied himself as instructed. He focused energy into his hands.
“Are you ready?” Mimosa asked.
“Yes,” Lyuben gulped. He stared up at the dim light in the hall.
So that’s what I need to do…
Lyuben fired a tiny dark projectile at the ceiling. It hit the small lantern at the roof, causing it to explode in a burst of flame. The whole hall went dark. No one could see a thing. Lyuben ran down the circular stairs until he hit the ground level, hearing closely has Mimosa stumbled to follow him, blindly firing bolts into the darkness. Whenever Mimosa’s spells collided with the wall, it momentarily lit up the place as glowing red sparks sprayed everywhere.
Lyuben listened closely for the witch’s footsteps and focused on the positions of the sparks across the stairwell. The moment Mimosa touched the ground floor, Lyuben launched a large ball of flame at her. Mimosa summoned her same blue shield, but the force of Lyuben’s magic colliding with the shield knocked her backwards into the wall. It was Lyuben’s turn to attack.
Lyuben let a malevolent discharge of purple electricity. The room flashed brightly in its purple light. Mimosa scrambled away from the dark tendrils. One caught her dress, which she quickly put out with a wave of her hand.
Lyuben reached down to his rose. Dark energy swirled around the runaway prince. Lyuben raised his hands, summoning a huge ball of abyssal energy. Mimosa’s eyes were wide. Lyuben could tell that she didn't expect such power from the young mage.
Y̵̨̌e̸̛̯s̷͕͐,̴̮͐ ̴̫̋L̴͓͐y̷̻͆u̸̯̐ḅ̶͑e̶̘̾ň̴̫!̶̻͝ ̶̡͛D̵̖̋o̴̩̽ ̷̪͊ȋ̵̧ẗ̶̠ ̷̙͝n̴͍̑o̵̯̒w̶̤̒!̶̖̽ ̸̪͊K̶̞̾ȋ̵̥ĺ̸͕l̴͍͛ ̷̲͒h̶̡̽e̵̟͒r̴̖͂!̸̻͠
Lyuben tried to shake the voice out of his head.
Ỵ̴̓ô̷̤ṷ̵̋ ̷̲̿c̵̹̏å̵͔n̷̨̄'̷͖̿t̵̥͋ ̶̪͌g̶̲̕e̷̹͠t̸̳̎ ̵͎̓ȓ̶̤i̵̘͘d̸͔̓ ̵̮̕ọ̵̑f̶̟̃ ̶̭̾m̴̻̊ë̶̤́,̵̭̑ ̴͍͋L̸̘̊y̴̬͠ủ̶͖b̵̦͐e̴̝̕n̵̳̓.̸͂ͅ.̶̜́.̷͍̿I̶͎̾ ̸͙̀å̵̦ḿ̵̞ ̴̧̾p̵̫̀ḁ̸͗r̵̃ͅt̴̒ͅ ̷̤͗o̵̘̓f̴̛̜ ̵̘̎y̴̬̑o̷̤̒u
The ball of energy started to shake violently in Lyuben’s hands. He was losing control. Again. Just like in his castle’s great hall with his parents. Just like with Imilia. Mimosa seized her chance, slashing her hand through the air. A beam of freezing magic shot out of her hand.
It slammed Lyuben violently against the wall, trapping him in chains of ice that attached itself to the wall. Lyuben blinked twice. He tried to struggle against the icy chains, then everything went black.
—-
“Wake up. Wake up!” Mimosa shouted. Lyuben found himself in Mimosa’s room again. She continued, “You hit your head pretty hard. I panicked a little with the crazy magic you wielded. I didn’t expect that.”
Mimosa finished tending to the wound on Lyuben’s head.
“Really?”
“You’re getting better, Lyuben,” Mimosa smiled, “I’ll see you soon okay? I’ll research methods on controlling magic like yours. I’ll definitely have something somewhere.” Mimosa gestured to her shelves of books.
Lyuben waved goodbye as he left Mimosa’s tower. He was exhausted after training with Mimosa. Lyuben stepped out into the afternoon sunlight satisfied with himself for the first time in ages.
Someday I will be strong. Someday I’ll prove my parents wrong. Just you wait...
The Match’s Foreword
Nilfi climbed the tower steps, the clatter of his fine-honed bone staff announcing his presence all the way up and down the stairwell. He had paid the spellsmith Rezar extra after hearing how the bone had completely destroyed a few of his more mundane tools. “Maybe I should have warned him about that.” He considered for a moment, finally reaching the slightly musty and charred wooden door of the witch’s workplace. He gave the door a few taps with his staff, receiving a muffled indication to enter. With a quick, smooth motion Nifli swung the door open and took in the tower’s loft.
The first thing the wizard took notice of was the absolute mess of the place; papers, bits of plants and animals, scrolls, vials, books, candles, and all other kinds of assorted magical and alchemical ingredients were scattered across practically every surface of the room. There was a small empty spot on the sofa, and over by the window was a large cushion which Ystix was currently occupying who was seemingly still asleep as the morning sun shone on the cat’s fur coat, giving it a golden glow. Nilfi’s attention was split across all the interesting mystical components in the witch’s possession, but of course he eventually focused on the person he came here to see.
Mimosa was already hard at work this morning, a small crate of empty potion vials sat on her table as she chopped a row of mandrake roots and scooped them into her cauldron. The wooden box had the crest of the tournament branded into it, and the alchemist could only assume she was preparing resources for the medical team ahead of today’s match. “Your match, Nilly.” He rolled his eyes, well aware of what was at stake. Mimosa barely acknowledged Nilfi entering the room. Despite the early hour he’d come to see her and how focused she was on her current task, she was dressed as nicely as always, hair done neatly, and her was gown spotless.
Setting her knife down, she added the last few ingredients to her pot before summoning a green flame in her hand and igniting the fire below the cauldron. She wiped her hands on a nearby rag, gave her dress a quick brush down, before turning her attention to Nilfi, giving him a brisk curtsey. “If you weren’t aware, my name is Mimosa. I’m a witch who makes varies potions and poisons for locals and nobles alike.” She introduced herself, gesturing towards Nilfi. “Although if you’re here I assume you already knew that. I imagine you’re one of the contestants, yes? Come for a concoction to assist you in the blood sports?” Mimosa questioned him curtly, making sure not to be rude, but also clearly not a fan of the current happenings.
He nodded, giving a quick bow in turn. “Partly correct! The name’s Nilfi, wizard and alchemist, among other things, and yes I am competing in the tournament.” The vampire informed her, leaning against the back of the couch. “Fully capable of preparing my own concoctions though, thank you. I hoped I might get your help in another regard. My first match is later today, and I had hoped you might be able to help me prepare for the combat. I’d also love to pick your brain about the tournament and the current conflict that I’m signing myself up for if I make it through this whole thing.”
The witch gave a soft cooing chuckle. “Oh dear, you must have talked to Rodolf if you thought I was a good person to talk to about that complete mess.”
“Actually, I just thought it might be worth talking to someone who wasn’t quite so attached to the whole thing. I’m sure I’d get lots of heart-wrenching stories and inspired speeches if I spoke to a knight like Sir Killian. The real people who aren’t bound by national oaths or political games are who have the real perspective. You’re also one of the only competent mages in this whole place who I’m not going to have to compete with later, so there is that.” Nilfi said while scratching the back of his head.
Mimosa took a long moment to look the alchemist up and down, reconsidering her first impression of him. “Well, I suppose I can give a few minutes to spar while the medicine brews.” She told him, leading the way out the door and down the stairs. “I’ll be honest with you; I don’t find this whole tournament thing very appealing. Senseless violence, needless death, and what, all for more war? Simply seems a waste and these so-called ‘champions’ are nothing more than over-glorified killers in my opinion.” She told him as they descended the stairwell.
“Why help them then if you disapprove so much?”
“Well, it wasn’t my choice for the tournament to be held at Werther, but a customer is a customer, and they certainly paid well enough. Besides, it’s simply my trade, what else am I supposed to do?”
Nilfi nodded in understanding. “I have to say, I’m not completely sold on this whole tournament either, but I’m here now and now I need to figure out just what I’m getting myself into. Of course, I also have to actually make it through the contest too. Noah is an enigma to me.”
“Oh, your match is against Noah?” Mimosa asked slightly surprised.
“Yes, you know him?” Nilfi asked even more surprised.
“Yes, he’s come to see me for help preparing as well. He certainly is… unique. Not quite all here, if you understand.” The two spellcasters made their way out of the staircase and out onto the training field.
“Yeah, he’s got some kind of illusion or mental manipulation magic. It’s like he pulled me into his dream somehow, it was very unusual. It felt like an entirely different world, and it felt very… physical, very real.” Nilfi moved into a more prepared stance, staff at the ready.
“Well, that is something, isn’t it; maybe I was too dismissive of him? Regardless, catch!” Mimosa shouted as she quickly flung a ball of green flames at the vampire. As if they were playing a ball game, Nilfi reached out and caught the fire in his hand, spinning around and pitching it back at the witch. With a grin she shot bolt of magical energy straight through the flame, dissipating fire while sending a much faster attack right at Nilfi. Or at least, where he had been just a moment before; her eyes shot to the left where she spotted the wizard, whose staff was glowing like a fresh ember. He thrust the end forward pointed right at her, a massive fiery projectile launching out from the end.
Mimosa quickly evaded, throwing a vial of some concoction at Nilfi’s feet where it shattered and created a thick plume of black smoke.
He tapped his staff on the ground and gust of wind and a brilliant white light shot out from around him. Quickly scanning the training grounds for the witch, he spun about-face in a flash as he just barely blocked her silver dagger lunging towards him. She grinned, her other hand tapping his forehead. Nilfi felt a mystical tinge shoot through her finger. She jumped back, half prepared for a counterattack, but also watching him expectantly. For a long moment, they stared at each other, he trying to figure out what she did to him, her surprised he was still standing.
“What did you do?” Nilfi asked, confused.
“It was a sleep spell, should have knocked you out cold for at least an hour.” Nilfi chuckled as she said it. “Why didn’t it work?”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to tell you later, I’ve got fight to get to!” He said as the bell tolled.
First Round
Fifth Match
First Round
Fifth Conclusion
Signature // Arena // Signature
Fifth Result
I think these two are quite equal when it comes to character design, and their stories were pretty interesting too! So the reason why Nilfi won is because his cards reflected his traits and qualities a bit better than Noah's cards, in my opinion at least.
@Red_Tower - Nilfi's heart got pierced, but he should be able to stand back up and walk to the 2nd round at some time! (And if not by his own, then the healers will help him.) You may create a new version of him or a new signature/companion card, but this time the maximum mana value of those cards is increased to 5!
@CassZero - Noah is defeated, but he survived the battle, and the healers cured his wounds. He has some unfinished business, so you may conclude them and post any cards you've planned for him while the tournament is still in Werther Fortress!
The Tournament Bracket has been updated!
And sorry for keeping you waiting, this took even more time because I got urgent things to do, and now I feel exactly like how Nilfi felt at the end of this match.
Well played @CassZero and if you continue your character on in your personal thread I'll be sure to try and check it out. Dream worlds and dream magic are super fun ideas.