"No, I think humans are just loud by nature, so no need to apologize." Dalji said humorously. So, the shopkeeper was not only rude to his customers he probably forced this young human into buying a purchase that he may not have needed. Humans seemed quick to cheat other humans. The Cautic Gnomes pay back their debts gladly, but someone such as Dalji wouldn't stand for corrupt merchants.
"Well met, Marc. I am Dalji." Dally was use to different customs of greeting, but he had been practicing to the human standard greeting. To a human though his greeting may still come off as gruff in comparison. No one could say that Dalji didn't try the native customs. To Ember Dalji attempted to make a chirping sound. Dalji wasn't sure he knew any dialect of the surface animals, but he tried not to worry about such details.
Dalji reached up to shake the human's hand when he was rudely interrupted. "You sir," Dalji said pointing to Jeistan. "Do you wish to quarrel with me? Am I not fit to shake this man's hand?" Dalji said with a clear indication of malice.
Tronfros nodded, taking one last careful look at the hooded man before abruptly turning away from the Arena and heading back the way he had come, shoving his way through the crowd. The people had become even more agitated, now that the duels had begun and they were missing out. Several of the mob were even brave enough to yell curses at Tronfros, as long as they had a sufficient number of people between them and the towering beast. He paid no heed to them, though, and continued trudging his way to the Knight's Court Inn.
The only difference was that there were now several barrier signs staked into the ground around the ruined and unstable building, warning civilians not to enter. The minotaur ignored these, stepping over the remains of the wall and descending quickly into the pit. When he reached the bottom, Tronfros removed his totem from it's sling and planted it in the mud nearby, setting Raz'nak on top so he could observe. Ironically, the rude little chatterbox seemed to blend perfectly with the animal skulls and feathers that adorned the top of the staff.
Then he went to work, crouching down and using his massive hands to scoop away great mounds of dirt as he burrowed downward in search of Raz'nak's body. He found the first of it fairly quickly, and in only a few minutes the skeletal's skeleton was lying in a muddy, confusing heap at the base of the totem.
"Alright, there is your body. Now, what do we do about the hooded man? Who do you think he is?" Tronfros asked, wiping the dirt and grime off his arms.
With his body now fully functioning again, Raz'nak stood up with renewed vigor. But no revitalization could overcome the emotion that flooded his mind.
"That hooded man is not... Rather, he is... otherworldly. He's not natural. He's a being that can't logically seem to exist." Raz'nak stammered. He could tell that Tronfros would not understand with what little he had said. The skeletal sighed and scratched his skull with bony fingers; an old human habit he forgot he still had.
Raz'nak pointed at his eye sockets. They were without eyes, being covered by an unnaturally dark shadow. "As you can see, I cannot. I'm a skeletal; we don't have eyes. We see magical energy. It radiates from living things in a way that we can sense it magically. Then we use our own magical energy to sense the physical world. Even if someone is invisible or in a non-physical form, I can still see them. But that hooded... thing... it was only physical. It didn't have any magical energy. But the mana around it was completely concentrated and thick."
Raz'nak shook his head. What do we do? This might be a power that I can't defeat... But... I don't know anything about this... I've read countless books, but never in my studies have I found something like this... The skeletal began to strut toward the library, making a motioning movement with his hand. He was too deep in thought to try and say more.
TAG: Yorgmiester
********************
Galath Arena - Ring
IC: Capricorn
Capricorn turned around and frowned. "Careful, friend. My cudgel is not something you wish to block with a metal shield." His cudgel's lighting begins to die out. "It would be wise to dodge it, rather than take the blow. Stay light on your feet, friend." The minotaur instructed Ki'vul. His voice echoed into the ever-growing crowd. "I'll come at you again, and you try to dodge the blow." His cudgel begins to glow with lighting again, and begins to spark as before as he charges at his opponent.
TAG: Captainguy42
********************
Somewhere in Galath - Jimmy's Hideout
IC: The "Announcer"
He spit up blood, and watched another tooth fall onto the stone ground. Or was it a wall? Or the ceiling? It felt like suspended space. Nothing was making sense. Sometimes his kidnapper would say things that he could not hear, and would be beaten for it. He couldn't feel anymore. All he knew was that he was not to give up any information. Doing so meant punishment worse than death. He would not betray the Syndicate to the likes of the Black Dusk.
The next bludgeon could be felt, however. His senses returned. "Answer me, dammit!" his kidnapper yelled, whose hands now coiled around his neck. "How. Do. I. Find. The Syndicate?" Oh yes, he had forgotten. He had mentioned the Syndicate. He would pay dearly for that. If anything were to get out... No, of course not. They do well to hide the name. He would be fine, he hoped.
It was all for the better, he had considered. At least now this asshole would be too busy torturing him to react to the events soon to be happening at the Arena.
Tronfros nodded, following Raz'nak towards the library. He wasn't sure what help he would be, as he could read very little of the human writing, but he would go nonetheless. Perhaps there wold be an assassination attempt, and the little skeletal would need defending, but somehow Tronfros doubted that as well.
"What are we looking for?" he asked as they arrived. The stingy-looking bookkeeper glared at the hulking minotaur as he ducked into the building, his booming voice resonating rather loudly through the quiet place. He snorted at the spectacled human, then turned back to the room, looking around with interest at the vast rows of books. It would be the perfect place for him, if he could read any of it.
Ki'vul stood his ground again, he wouldn't let this cow tell him what to do no matter how badly it would hurt him. He angled his body again and brought his shield to bare against the club, gritting his teeth. When the club came it felt stronger than before, it sent Ki'vul reeling backwards, his shield arm ached horrible, his bicep had cramped and his fingers were twitching beyond his control. But Ki'vul smiled. The last attack had sent his mind blazing with hatred, hatred that he now wanted to share.
He found his footing and charged Capricorn, holding his shield close to his chest and his right arm back behind him. He then swung his fist forward, in mid air his arm seemed to burst into crimson flames, and at it's apex the flames solidified into a long wicked telekinetic blade.
Capricorn felt the lightning course from his club into his opponent. After Capricorn ended his charge, he sighed. Turning around, Capricorn called out, "Ki'vul, you really should listen. A dodge would have been much more eff-" Capricorn's words were interrupted by the long stab of a telekinetic blade. The minotaur's brow twisted from sympathy into ferocity. The cudgel's lightning flicked out almost instantly as Capricorn thrusted a fist forward into the man's head. A pulse of energy knocked Capricorn backward and out of the sword's hold on him. "That was an... nnn, an impressive strike." Capricorn winced, holding his side. Capricorn gritted his teeth, and shook it off. "Don't begin to think that this is over yet! I've got plenty more where that came from!"
TAG: Captainguy42
********************
Galath Library
IC: Raz'nak
The skeletal moved quickly through the bookshelves, weaving in and out of them, picking up books seemingly at random and putting them into Tronfros's hands without slowing down. Periodically, he'd ask questions like "How much Human can you read?" and "What kind of magic do you use?? Finally, he stopped at a table and began to remove books from Tronfros?s possession until only two were left. He spread his books out in front of a chair and opened four of them to the first page.
The skeletal turned to his minotaur companion. He lifted the first book to Tronfros?s eyes, which depicted a table covered in maps with small figurines and flag?s placed on top of them, with the title ?The Adventurer?s Tactical Approach? in big letters. ?This book explains a lot of basic battle plans used for small parties. I analyzed your attack strategy. You?re slow-moving, but you have a strong spell that has a wide attack range, plus your staff that projects a protection spell. You?re smart. I figure that you?ll make an ample commander.?
He then lifted the second book. It showed a minotaur clad in animal skins and small pieces of metal armor standing on a cliff overlooking a beautiful river valley. The title ?Protormal: The Unfrozen? was embedded into the rocks the minotaur stood on. ?Protormal is a famous warrior said to have been frozen in ice for centuries until it melted and caused him to come back alive. Rather, it is fiction, but his tactics are feasible and his magic is true. You might learn a thing or two about ice magic from this book.?
The skeletal nodded and sat down in front of the other books. His hand turned pages of the books as he read each of them simultaneously.
Tronfros stared at the books quizzically for a few moments, then picked them up and moved to the other side of the table, pushing the chair aside and crouching down on his haunches, as was his habit in these half-sized human environments.
Settling into a comfortable position, he began his examination of the first book, the one on tactics. The first page was mostly words, so he skipped over it. The second had a chart filled with lines, arrows, colored areas, and labels. Squinting at the letters for several minutes, he was able to make out that the first label read "Unit 3".
With a displeased grunt, he thumbed the edge of the page, fumbling around for a moment as he tried to move the delicate layer of parchment with his large digit. He finally got the page turned, and was greeted by several paragraphs of words and another chart, this one depicting some sort of topographical map, which he could in fact understand, and more arrows. The different "units" had their own symbols this time, however, and so he was able to grasp the concept. Partially, at least.
Grumbling to himself, he fiddled with the next page for a few moments and got it turned, only to be greeted by two full pages of nothing but words. With a frustrated snort, he closed the book rather forcefully and shoved it aside, grabbing the second one.
"This is madness." he grumbled, half to himself and half to Raz'nak. The second book, although it did have a lot of rather nice, artistic pictures of Protormal on his various adventures, contained few pictures that actually told Tronfros anything about ice magic.
With a resigned sigh, he placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward over the book, reluctantly beginning the process of slowly deciphering it's meanings. Letter by arduous letter.
Satisfied with his exploration of the Knight's Court Inn, and only finding an odd material used for demolition that he couldn't identify, Debatra headed toward the Town Square to pick up a contract from the Message Boards. He sifted through the numerous pages asking for minor tasks and offered little rewards until he came up with four that he liked.
The first was a wanted ad for a con man in the Housing District. He scammed a man out of his money in a game of cards, which the client thinks was rigged.
The second was an ad looking for a Draconic magic tutor. He was looking for someone to teach him basic fire spells to begin training with. He?s standing by the Alchemical shop.
The third was a complaint about a budding sorcerer who?s magic outbursts were causing disruption in the Housing District. The address is labeled at the bottom.
The final was a fetching request. An armorer is running out of iron ore, and she would like someone to go and get the next haul of iron from her nearby mine.
TAG: Debatra
********************
Rusthaven - Roald's Shack
IC: Roald
The man was relieved. To most men, seeing such a creature before them would cause them to book it in the other direction and possibly wet themselves. But in a dirty, scary roguetown like Rusthaven, the sight of a Kaedan like Radianna was just another freak in a town of freaks. Besides, Roald was happy to get anyone's help.
"Thank you for coming, miss. Please, have a seat," he said a bit quietly, motioning to a chair. "I guess I should get to the details, then. My necklace is made of copper and silver chains. There's nothing too valuable about it, so I don't know why they stole it. It was my mother's keepsake, and I'd like it back. I don't care if you kill him or not, as long as the necklace is safe." He motioned to his body with open hands. "I believe the man who bumped into me was dark-skinned, maybe a dark elf or something." He them motioned to his head. "He had a hood over his head, so I couldn't see his hair. He was by the trading district near the busy shops. I hope that helps," the man finished. He moved over to a table and picked up a map of the town, and handed it to her open. A marker was put on it to identify where the thief took his necklace. It stood near the entrance of the Rusty Dagger weapons store.
TAG: Debatra
*******************
Galath Library
IC: Raz'nak
Raz'nak clenched his fist and knocked the books over with a frustrated cry. "These books aren't telling me anything!" His attention turned to his struggling companion. He sighed and got up to help him.
"Hey, uhh," Raz'nak halted. Had he forgotten his name, or did he just never tell him it? "Hey, minotaur. Do you need some help?" he sat down next to him and took the other book, and began scanning the pages.
"Alright, listen up,? Raz?nak said before clearing his throat.
?When working with a small team of specialists, it?s important to place each member of the team in a position that best suits their abilities. There are a few factors that you need to take into consideration: maximum range of abilities, optimal range of abilities, attack order, and terrain.
Each specialist will only have a certain range in which they can attack. Putting a melee specialist in the back of a squad will result in a decreased and/or delayed performance from that fighter. Putting an archer up front makes him subject to immediate damage and leaves his weapon of choice almost useless.
The optimal range is one that works best for their abilities. While an archer can be right behind the melee specialists, it would be better if they were farther off. They could also be much farther, but that would reduce their accuracy. While it?s not impossible, it?s not efficient. It?s also a good idea to keep area casters near the combat to improve the effectiveness of their spells.
The attack order will mostly determine how fast the combatants will be able to perform a combined attack pattern. It?s important that the team can cast the spells and perform their attacks in the order without the team hindering movement because of the positions. Essentially, if a melee specialist is the first to attack in a strategy, it would be best to move him close to the front so the people in front of him don?t slow him down.
Finally, you need to position your team based on the area. Archers do well up high, and defenders do well on the ground. Melee specialists usually prefer some room to run around, and casters like a bit of distance. If any of your team has aerial abilities, it?s best to position them in the sky. If they have sub terrain abilities, position them low or in the ground. If there?s water, use that to hide your blast casters and archers for a surprise attack. If there are trees, use them to set traps and fire arrows from. If the ground is fragile, use it to shake the enemies and make them stumble off of their feet.
It?s generally considered a good strategy to put your strongest and fastest fighters up front, so they can meet with the enemy first before it has time to reach your healers and casters. You also want to put those who can absorb more hits to be directly in front of the healers to both defend the healer and put the healer?s main target right in front of him. Your area casters should be kept mobile if possible, moving around (or through, provided the healer and defender are at the other side ready for immediate assistance) the crowd of enemies with continual spellcasting. Your blast casters should be mid-range to far, depending on their spell selection.
Using those pointers alone will drastically increase the efficiency of your squad or team. In the next chapter, we will learn about??
Raz?nak put the book down and quickly snatched the book from Tronfros?s side of the table. He began to rapidly scan the pages, his head bobbing up and down the page. Every moment or two, he would spout out a piece of information about the man and his feats. His head stopped for a moment, and he seemed puzzled. ?I think this is in your Minotaur language. It looks like an incantation for a spell, but it seems a bit lengthy for that. Who knows? Feyic magic is complicated.?
The skeletal gave the book back to the minotaur, and laid a sharp, bony finger on the passage, which was handwritten on a picture of a piece of parchment.
TAG: Yorgmiester
********************
Somewhere in Galath ? Jimmy the Quick?s Hideout
IC: Jimmy the Quick
He wasn?t getting anywhere fast. He kept babbling on about craziness and a bunch of things that didn?t make sense. He seemed to refer to Chaos as a person and not a description of something. It?s possible that this man just happened to be a highly skilled lunatic, and not an actual force to be worried about.
Jimmy turned to the man, who was tied up in a chair and bouncing around in it. ?Hey, you. You aren?t telling me enough, so I?m gonna leave you down here until you learn to make sense. Hope you like the cold,? he joked.
He seemed to get extremely excited with every passing minute, and this made him overjoyed. ?Yes! Go now! And watch as Chaos begins his reign over Enlis! The time is almost upon us! It?s so close! Can?t you hear it? It?s buzzing in the air so furiously, I can barely-? Jimmy shoved a wad of cloth into the man?s mouth to silence him before turning to leave to the Arena.
She walked into the shop, an ever-present scowl on her face. "Seen any dark elves with hoods around here lately?" she demanded of the person behind the counter. Radianna Cadenesa was not known for being sociable. "He might've had a necklace of copper and silver with him. Maybe he tried to sell it to you?"
The sound of an explosion was heard as Debatra landed onto the cold steps of the concerned neighbor's staircase leading ot his door. He came running out, pulling the hair out of his head. "God dammit I want some sleep!" he shouted, now noticing the bat. "Hey, you here to take care of him? Good! Get the fuck in inside and kill that little bastard before I lose my mind!"
He broke his stare at the bat and began to pace back and forth angrily. "Everything glass in my house is shattered, there's a hole in my wall where the kid turned my bricks back into clay mold, and he turned my cat into a fucking lion! I tell those damn parents of his to fix him and they don't do shit! My wife is scared, my kids are crying, and I haven't slept in three days! I'm losing it! I'M LOSING IT!"
TAG: Debatra
********************
Rusthaven - Rusty Dagger
IC: Shopowner
Radianna walked into the relatively massive store, followed by two others behind her. The place was also relatively packed, holding at least 15 other shoppers, all examining different makes of daggers, spears, and handguns. The shopowner welcomed her to the store. She moved up to him and inquired about the shady character, and was given an apologetic decline for a response.
"I'm not allowed to discuss customers. It's personal. I mean, you can pay me, and my lips might loosen a little, but I ain't gonna disclose anything too personal about the customer, what he bought, when he's last in, or any o' that. Sorry."
TAG: Debatra
********************
Galath - Arena Gates
IC: Hooded Figure
What was that little skull thing? he questioned himself mentally. It was alive, I believe. Well, not anymore, of course. Nothing gets that close to me and continues living. Ahahaha the hooded figure made his way upward through the crowd, shoving if necessary. Grabbing himself a seat up front a few rows in front of the strange blindfolded man, he began to scan the crowd as the minotaur and other man fought. The crowd sure likes this minotaur... I guess I'll be able to start early... The crowd cheered excitedly. They were screeching. They were jarring. You could almost feel...
Tronfros stared at the passage with great interest, running one large finger along the lines of strange symbols. His hot breath fluttered the edges of the pages beneath his heavy touch, locks of his gray hair falling around his eyes as they pierced the page, and for a few minutes he did not speak.
"Not an incantation, but close; instructions rather." the minotaur said at length. "It is in a tribal dialect foreign to me, but I think I will be able to read it. Give me a few minutes." With that he lumbered a short distance off and bent low over the book, studying it's words. Presently he raised his right hand into the air, held it for a moment, then grumbled and lowered it, going back to fervently examining the book.
The next time he raised his hand, however, something happened. The air around it began to freeze and draw inwards, latching onto his outstretched fist and growing, soon creating a layer of jagged ice. It continued to expand, freezing the air it touched, building upon itself and expanding.
The minotaur's jubilant expression turned to one of concern. The ice was growing at an alarming rate. Already he could barely lift his arm for the massive chunk of ice that gripped it. With a curse, the beast ran for the door, thundering out just in time, the edges his newfound weapon leaving two large gouges in the door-frame.
Stumbling out into the street, Tronfros set his perpetually growing arm on the ground and hurriedly flipped back to the page of the spell, which he had lost, reading over it frantically as people nearby stopped and stared. The ice continued to grow, a gigantic vaguely round chuck now reaching almost to his shoulder.
By the time Tronfros had figured out the correct way to stop it, he was basically laying on top of the enormous hunk of frozen moisture, his entire right arm, shoulder, and chest encased in it. His right horn was also trapped, leaving him in a very awkward stance. A few minutes of this uncomfortable position and some very fervent reading later, and he had freed himself, the ice melting away into a very large puddle.
"I uh... misinterpreted part of it." he said to Raz'nak, who standing nearby grinning deridingly. "The part about how to stop."
Rubbing his neck in a disconcerted way, the minotaur took a few moments to survey the scene and let the onlookers pass. "I'll go practice." he mumbled, then picked up the book and started off towards an open grassy area near the library.
The man simply relaxed for a few minutes, for the most part ignoring the crowd, who ignored him right back. He wasn't particularly interested in all that they were doing, all things considered - not that they weren't worth his time, or anything so brazen, just they served as nothing but a distraction from his entertainment. That changed when the hooded man took a seat, when the little 'feeling' grew a great deal stronger. He seems... Familiar. Could it be...? Not even he would attack a place like this, right? He asked himself, suddenly seeming the tiniest bit nervous.
Either way, He thought, beginning to fidget just a little bit, I should keep on eye out. If that's who I think it is - or worse, someone even stronger - it'll be a lot of trouble cleaning up the mess they make... So much for faulty information.
The skeletal chuckled as the spell began to malfunction, reminding him of his former self. Now, of course, it was near impossible for Raz'nak to lose control of his magic, as many skeletals require a constant control of magic to simply move and not fall apart. That, and of course, the mark on his wrist that was left from his accident.
"I'll go practice," the minotaur mumbled. Raz'nak nodded in response before returning to his thoughts. He began to review the notes he took mentally from the books he read about mana burn.
Mana burn is the medical phenomenon that occurs when a caster comes in contact with too much condensed mana. The skin usually becomes red, much like a regular burn, but the sensation felt is varying on what the mana was doing to give the victim the burn. This usually happened to Demonic casters, who are known for fire spells, and Draconic casters who attempt too large of a Fireball spell, thus the condition was given the name "mana burn".
Demonic casters are especially prone to contract this condition by attempting to absorb too much mana, although Draconic casters can get it by trying to cast a spell beyond their control. Because of the nature of Divinic casters, who use only their magical energy, they are incapable of contracting it, with the exception of a Feyic Mana Burn spell.
It was most likely mana burn that singed me, but what confuses me is how it happened! he thought bitterly. I mean, it's not like his skin was made of the stuff or something... maybe it was a heated mana shield or something... he continued to contemplate it as he walked toward the Galath Arena to recruit more fighters.
TAG: Tirin, Debatra, Yorgmiester, Sai
********************
Galath Arena - Waiting Room
IC: Jeistan T'erehi
The werewolf looked down at the gnome, and growled, "I need to get by. You shouldn't be standing in the doorway blocking the path." He continued and walked upstairs to the Rec Room, where he ordered some food and sat down by a window to watch the fight.
The first fighter the skeletal found was his next opponent, who had apparently finished whatever practice he had been doing. He merely lay on the ground, coiled about himself as he tended to be while relaxing, letting the sun warm him as it glinted off of his crimson scales. His head raised a few feet from the ground, eyes locking on Raz'nak.
"Good day, Raz'nak," He greeted, as hissingly as was common for him, "Good to see that you're whole again, I wouldn't have wanted to just go further in the tournament by default, after all."
Debatra runs into the man's house, loosening his blade in its sheath. He notices a large hole in the ceiling, with the smell of smoke coming from it. He flies up through the hole, and turns in the air. Seeing the Sorcerer with his back to him, Debatra lands softly as possible, approaching slowly.
He draws his blade, closing his cloak around himself to keep it - as well as his bat form - hidden.
"Sorcerer, the family that lives here wants you to leave their house. They want to live in peace. Will you take this elsewhere?"
The young man turned around, with a shocked look on his face. "W-w-what? What are you talking about? I live h-here!" he stammered, beginning to raise his hands. With a glance at them, he quickly shoved them into his armpits, and then opened his eyes to look back at his unexpected company.
"I h-have lived here for my whole life! My paren-" he stopped, staring down at the floor now. He sat in a few moments of silence before continuing. "...I own this house. If you mean the neighbors, then I apoligize... I can't help what I do," the man mumbled.
He closed his eyes. "I... maybe it's best that I leave now. I don't want to hurt anyone..."
TAG: Debatra
********************
Galath Arena
IC: Raz'nak
The skeletal stopped and turned to face Lucien. "Ah, morning. Hope you slept well, did you?" Raz'nak said with a slightly irregular dialect. "I'm actually glad I found you. I don't believe that this place is... safe. I met a man who was... not right," he said, staring down worriedly at the ground, "different... unsettling..."
His skull turned back to the serpenti. "I'm not certain of anything, and I don't have any evidence, but he troubles me. Things rarely do that. I can... 'feel it in my gut.' In the case that something bad were to occur, I want to make sure that we are ready to retaliate." The skeletal took a few steps forward to close the distance between him and Lucien. With a sincere tone, he said, "I need your help, Lucien. If you want to help, you can first find some people that can help. Recruit some fighters. When you're ready, go and find the grey minotaur with the big staff. I don't recall him telling me his name, so that's about all I can tell you."
Before taking his leave, Raz'nak gave Lucien a smile and a nod. "Oh, and good luck in the tournament." Raz'nak's bones clinked toward the Market District behind the Speared Grape Inn.
TAG: Tirin
********************
Corsaine - Large Mining Outpost
IC: Azkin
Azkin lifted his helmet, wiping the dusty sweat from his thick brow before checking his watch. Fifteen minutes until the end of his shift. "Alright, men! A quarter 'til close!" Azkin made his way over to where Ocen was. He was looking over one of the cliffs at the miners. Normally Azkin would greet him and give him a pat on the back, but he know Ocen was in deep thought. He decided to leave a dwarf to his thoughts. He must have a lot on his mind.
As the miners began to lift the day's ton of coal up to the surface for trade, Azkin began to think on his own. He looked at the struggling faces of the workers. He looked at Bokl, who was working to feed his newborn Anthony. He looked at Akalni, a half-breed, who recently moved here to make a living. He looked at their bulging arms, and the ton of coal that they worked so hard to get. How they did all of this to make a living; a living that Corsaine wouldn't permit.
According to the Council, this Mining Outpost, despite it being even bigger than other Sectors, wasn't itself a Sector. It was miles from medhouses and banks and the big city... we lived here. Why wasn't that enough? We need the supp-
A snap of rope. The movement of rocks. The cry of sharp voices.
One of Tronfros' ice-encased fists sunk into the large support beam, the wood cracking and splintering under the impact. Jagged points of the frozen moisture dug deep into the structure, gouging it and tearing it as he swiveled his hand back and forth, removing it after a few moments to reveal what would have been an extremely gruesome wound had the wooden beam been flesh and bone.
With a satisfied snort and grin, the minotaur took a deep breath and then suddenly whirled around, throwing his left arm into another support beam, this one slightly burnt. The beam snapped like a twig, Tronfros' icy forearm plowing right through it and sending a shower of splinters, coals, and bits of powdery ice shaving everywhere.
After about half an hour of practicing on the grass outside the Library, Tronfros had realized that it was not an ideal place. Firstly, he had nothing to hit that wasn't considered public property, which included the ground. Tearing gouges in the Librarian's wonderful lawn was a less than helpful way to endear yourself to the townsfolk.
And do he had come here, to a place he knew he could cause wanton destruction without getting arrested. Nobody cared about the place now, and as long as he stayed within the bounds of that red rope the guards had put up he figured he should be fine. At least, that's the way it seemed, as he had been there for two hours and nobody had complained.
Turning towards a crumbling section of wall, he got into a fighting stance and then attacked it, wreaking havoc on the stones and bricks. Tremors of impact ran up his arms with each strike, but nothing more. It was amazing what this new spell could let him do. He had been perfectly capable of punching holes in walls before, of course, but it usually left a nasty bruise or cuts, and generally hurt. Now there was no pain, no injury, no sore knuckles.
With a shake and some splashing, Tronfros freed his left hand, the ice quickly melting away and falling off. Then, with that hand, he grabbed one of the large, blackened stones nearby and hurled it high into the air.
It came down with a magnificent *CRACK* when it slammed into his right arm, which he held above him in a blocking stance. Tiny shards of ice showered the ground all around, but the main form held fast, successfully deflecting the blow and sending the rock rolling away. Tronfros grinned, the ice on his left hand reforming as he gazed in satisfaction at his right hand, swinging it around a bit to further get a feel for it's weight.
Lucien blinked slowly, disbelievingly. It was strange enough that Raz'nak hadn't been rude or impolite, but asking for his assistance, wishing him good luck in the tournament... Simply astounding. So far, the skeletal had been menacing and cold, and such a change of heart simply stunned the Serpenti for a moment before he could respond. "I, um... Yes, of course. If he's so serious a threat, we'll have need of everything we can get."
Even as the skeletal spellcaster was walking off, the reptilian warrior 'stood', stretching slightly and reflecting a few tiny pinpoints of light from his almost mirror-like scales. Figuring that it was the best place to go to recruit fighters for his cause, he returned to the training quarters of the Arena, looking about for the few who were still left in the tournament. It were these who he trusted the most (with the exception of Capricorn), but if he couldn't find any of them, well, he could always look around for those who had been eliminated.
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
