The day was calm and clear. Blue skies stretched overhead
to the horizon. Dappled over the featureless space a small host
of white fluffy clouds clung together like a zephyrus family. All
the peace above was in drastic contrast to the chaos below.
Heat filled the Arena, as bodies jockeyed for better seating
throughout the massive stands flanking the Arena's center floor.
What small amount of wind that managed over the great walls, sent
tiny eddies of dust skittering across, like miniature tornados.
While the heat would make one cringe for shade, today's turnout was
impressive indeed. Drawn by the promise for excitement, quick gold,
and the lingering scent of spiced apple pastries, a myriad of patrons
stirred. Adventurers peered in, spending away gold found in ancient
caverns. Merchants flocked, anxious to hawk their wares upon the
throng of people. Nobles glared down their noses to the riffraff
that was obviously separated by a contingent of armed guards and
peculiar seating arrangements. Even the commoners found their way
in - some willing to bet that hard earned gold piece, for a chance
at a dozen more.
With a blast of trumpeters, the entire Arena quieted. The
announcer stood from the panel of judges to address the assembled
masses. "GREETINGS!" his voice boomed, catching every corner of
the great stadium. "WELCOME TO THE GOLDEN APPLE OF SABERHAVEN.
THE PINNICLE OF POLITE SOCIETY AND MATURE CULTURE." Cries filled
the air in return greetings and salutes of foaming ale and crystalline
wines.
"THIS DAY IS LIKE NONE OTHER, MY FRIENDS." The announcer
continues. His voice flows with the purr of a gentle kitten, but
seems to clasp one's heart with a grip like a mother bear. Pulling
the audience in, he begins weaving an epic tale. Setting the stage
like a master bard, the audience is riveted with anticipation.
"... AND NOT TO HOLD YOUR HEARTS STILL ANOTHER SECOND, I
BRING FORTH OUR COMPETITORS. OUR FIRST, BORN TO THE HARSH ATHASIAN
SUN, THIS MAN HAS FOUND THE COOL PEASE OF SELUNE'S MOON. I PRESENT,
FLOYD!"
Stepping swiftly from the massive entrance doors Floyd
stands a little shorter than average and is thin. But rather
than looking weedy, there's a certain wiriness about him, like a
man stripped of all that is extraneous, leaving a solid core. His
hair is gray, and his face and hands wrinkled and leathery, the
result of time and sun, but his pale blue eyes still smolder like
the glow of the moon at night. No armor can be seen, but the ample
robes draped over his slender frame bear the symbols of Selune.
Along with a back pack, a wide variety of weapons are carried - a
bow, pair of spears, a silver-headed mace, and a glistening longsword
to name a few.
A look of concentration momentarily sits upon his weathered
face before being replaced with a grin, as he waves with his right
hand to the crowd. No spells are visible upon his person, but from
his left hand extends a four foot shaft of light, the color of
moon-beams.
"HIS OPPONENT, WHOM YOU MAY RECALL STOOD LIKE A MASSIVE OAK
AGAINST THE MIGHTY BEAST. A GIFF, WARRIOR OF HONOR. I PRESENT
HORUNES!"
Stepping from the shadowy hall, an immense form enters. Built
upon a pair of legs, twice the size of a man's chest, the warrior,
Horunes, stands nearly twice Floyd's height. His thick torso is
draped in a hunter's grab, complete with brimmed hat. The shaft of
a massive silvered axe is held in one hand, leaving the head to rest
in the other's palm.
Floyd calls, his voice carrying clearly to the other side,
"I hope you brought some drinks, for all this excitement has given
me a mighty thirst, and I could well do with a drink."
At the announcement, both warriors spring into action.
Though not quite what the crowd expected.
Shifting his massive axe aside, the titanic Horunes produces
a pair of stout mugs -both filled with a foaming amber fluid that
laps over the rim slightly. With a broad smile and great bellow,
he cries to Floyd, "Ah, never turned down a drink in my life, mate!"
Seeing the large Giff offer, Floyd tips his head in a nod
of agreement and relaxes slightly while he too walks to the Arena's
center. There, taking the offered mug, both contestants drink long
and hard. Goblets emptied and tossed to the dusty floor, both warriors
step back slightly and with an exchange of salutes they take a mutually
defensive stance against one another.
While both move to strike at the same time, Floyd's magical
blades are faster by far. The Selunite's adamantine longsword rings
loudly as it glances off of Horunes' khaki shirt and followed by a
sickening thud as it party the cloth leaving a trail of bright red blood
in its wake. Drawing the blade back with a sweeping motion, Floyd
catches Horunes under the arm in the crease of his ribs and armpit
-leaving another flowing wound of blood. IIn a fluid motion, Floyd's
second weapon - a blade of glistening magic- strikes forth. What could
have been a decent strike is ruined when Floyd's front foot shifts on
the split blood, sending the warrior to his knee painfully.
It is then that Horunes' axe has finished its downward stroke.
With blows that should have removed fist sized gashes of flesh and bone,
the great silver axe head merely is deflected by ripples of magical
energy.
"Whoa!" Says Floyd as he slips, going down on one knee briefly,
before that, too, slips and the human finds himself bloodying and
dirtying his robe on the ground as he falls on his back.
Stepping closer to his foe, Horunes brings his giant foot down
upon Floyd's sword arm. While the blow itself is diffused by a barrier
of magic, the sheer weight of the Giff warrior is painfully amazing.
In a few seconds, Floyd's entire forearm to his finger tips are turning
a bright shade of red. Following the pin, Horunes hefts his axe over
his head and returns it to the ground with deadly accuracy. But the
blade is deflected off of Floyd's shoulder. Recovering the glanced axe,
the hippo-like hunter whirls it around for a second strike -catching
Floyd across the throat. Where his head should have been separated
from his shoulders, ripples of defensive magic shudder under the blow's
mighty weight.
Regaining his senses, Floyd stares up at his foe with an
expression of clarity.
Bearing his massive weight down further upon Floyd's arm,
Horunes' axe does not relent. Arm's bulging under the huge
double-bladed axe, he hefts it up and around - aligning it to come
crashing down upon the pinned sword arm. In the middle of the axe's
decent, Floyd lift his free hand striking at Horunes' stationary knee,
with the weightless blade of energy. Before the axe can land, the
Giff's knee and stomach are struck. Unlike a regular blade, the magical
weapon left no trace of blood or wound, yet the experience of great
pain is more then evident upon Horunes' face. Ripples of magic shudder
over Horunes' body. Ripples that seem to twist his clothing and as
quickly as the ripples appear -they are gone. Where a hunter's suit
framed Horunes, is now a massive suit of full-plate armor -complete
with platinum inlays upon carved plates of adamantine alloy.
Pain that reflexively forces his leg back from Floyd's arm.
But Horunes doesn't stop there, his axe finishes its journey
striking the dirt beside Floyd's wrist. Seemingly missed, Horunes merely
smiles, past the pain, as he allows the back-blade to catch the sword's
quillions and with a mighty tug, sends the sword flying across the Arena.
Drawing his axe back, the Giff inverts the blade and brings it down
forcefully to rest upon Floyd's chest. But the blade finds no precipice
to take hold and is deflected again by the magical barrier. In the
deflection though, a shimmering cascades from Floyd's body -much like
water flowing off oiled leather.
As the two warrior square off, Floyd gets to his feet with amazing
speed.
It took Horunes' eyes a second to register that Floyd was no
longer standing where he appeared. The human's movements we almost too
quick to track as he rank to scoop up his disarmed sword. Close behind,
the Giff trudged. Not without grace or speed as one would expect of such
a large opponent, but rather his steps were quite fluid and far faster
then any normal man.
But Floyd is the first there and snatches the beautiful sword
from the dusty floor within a mere moment.
By the time he readies himself, Horunes' axe is already falling
in a deadly arc. Floyd's adamantine sword streaks up to intercept the
axe but catches only air. Allowing the weight of the blade to circle, Floyd
immediately redirects it around catching the axe from the side and twisting
it awkwardly from Horunes' right hand. Though Horunes quickly tries to
recover his grip, Floyd's sword is far quicker. Turning around for a third
strike it locks its quillions at the axe blade's junction to the shaft.
With a well-timed jerks and twist, he sends the great silvered axe
skittering across the Arena.
Following the disarm, the weightless blade of magical light
slashes across the bloodstained armor of Horunes. The first strike
sends a shudder of magical back along the silvery blade, not phasing
Horunes even slightly. The shuddering blade continues and with a
deafening crash, the blade explodes in a harmless display of sparks.
Caught slightly off guard from the magical backlash, Floyd looked
back just in time to see Horunes' balled fist catch him straight in the chest,
hitting the human with a sound like a smacking wet sack of grain.
Enraged by the absence of his axe, Horunes bellows a massive war
cry stepping in to strike Floyd with great balled fists.
But the human moves far faster, his steps and sword strikes
ringing one after the other, barely giving the eye time to catch
them. The first strike sends a shower of sparks off of Horunes'
magnificent plate armor. Recovering, Floyd turns the blade
around lodging the tip under the breastplate. With a powerful stroke,
the sword is thrust under and in, given a sharp twist
and drawn out. In the blades' passing, a fountain of bright red blood
flows, like pouring burgundy wine. The coppery smell in
the Arena's heat is over-powering. Even the battle hardened Giff,
cannot hide the damage that wound caused, from his face.
Not willing to deal death to his opponent, Floyd backs slightly
away and with a pair of dismissive sword strikes -each
impossibly fast- he manages to parry Horunes' grappling attack.
"Sir, this day need not be given unto death. Do you yield?"
Floyd offers the Horunes.
At the pause, Horunes clears the distance to his fallen axe with
a trio of massive strides. In his passing, a fresh trail of
bright red blood is left, and begins to pool at his feet.
"Yield, while ye still have the time," Floyd once again entreats,
while, in the blink of an eye, he closes the gap between the two of them.
His sword hovering over the fallen axe, his fist awaits Horunes' response.
Horunes turned toward Floyd and after a long pause looking into
Floyd's eyes he lifted his head and turned himself slowly looking at all
the people standing there looking at him with expectation, wonder and love.
He raised his voice to be heard clearly all over the place.
"Upon this day a great battle as been fought, and I who have
fought for countless years can see what is a true master of the art.
And I tell you all people of Saberhaven, this man standing over there
IS a master of the trade"
"AND... it is with great sadness that I declare on this day my
withdrawal from the Games which have meant everything to me up to this
day. But now by this defeat I realize how old I am, I will now give my
place to the youths of the arena and hopes to be remembered throughout
the ages to come"
"Thank you all of you for your support I love you all and it is
with great pain that I leave this holy place.... "
Horunes suddenly raised his axe high in the air and with a look
of obvious pain he declare "TONIGHT SHALL BE A NIGHT OF DRINKING COME TO
THE JUNGLE INN AND REMEMBER WHIT ME THE TALES OF OLD DAYS" with that
Horunes start toward the exit slowly dragging is axe behind him whit
tears streaming down is face never to return....
"Wait Horunes!" Shouts Floyd after the departing Giff. "It's has
been an honor to fight one such as yourself; the least I can do is to
remove the damage I have done." The crusader gives Horunes a moment to
withdraw, if he so wishes before continuing.
Floyd raises his arms to the sky; "Selune, you have witnessed
this battle and have seen the courage and valor with which Horunes has
fought. I would request a boon that his hurts and injuries should be
removed." The human then reaches out to touch his former opponent, and a
glow, the color of moon-light, passes from him to the Giff, gradually
encompassing Horunes. As the glow fades, all of Horunes physical injuries
have vanished.
"I will not try to dissuade you from your chosen course of action,"
Floyd continues, "and if I didn't know that you sponsored your own
contestants I'd invite you to join me and my friends when they arrive,
but I think everyone here appreciates all the battles you have fought in
this Arena, and I would say that although you feel it is time to cease
your combats here I hope that you will remain, behind the front line.
For even if you consider yourself a "past master", even "past masters"
have much to teach the young, and only the foolish dismiss the words of
heroes that have lived to tell their tails.
"So I say do not consider this a defeat, but merely the start of
a new a stage in life, and I would be delighted to join you in the
celebration of this new stage." Floyd then winks, "especially if your
buying the drinks," he finishes with a slight smile."
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