| Battles 02/12/05 Scraping off the Rust by Shlaya Kanaph It had been quite a while since Anatole had gotten into any fights. Things seemed to have grown strangely peaceful and stagnant in Illcara. Anatole pondered this as he cleaned his blades. Not that it was much use; they were as clean as they had been before, and weren’t likely to get any cleaner. Nevertheless, he didn’t want them to get as rusty as his skills no doubt were becoming. But there just hadn’t been any excuse for a fight. Lupe was thinking similar thoughts about the peace of the nation as he walked down the road. It seemed strange, when but a few months ago rebellion had been stirring in the land. But it seemed to have gone mostly underground – he had heard of nothing of note for at least a month. Lupe walked slowly down the street where Anatole was sitting, lost in thoughts. Anatole noticed him, and had a vague feeling of recognition. Not that such a feeling was exactly odd – after all, Cofel had less than two thousand inhabitants – but with the restlessness bubbling up inside him, he decided it was reason good enough to try and pick a fight. “You there!” Anatole called out, standing. The street was relatively empty, as it was late at night, but what few people there were on the street turned, saw he was an elf, and that he was not referring to them, and quickly walked on, avoiding him while trying to appear not to. Lupe regarded him calmly, waiting. When all the others had left, he still had not said anything, and Anatole figured he wouldn’t without some prompting. “What are you doing on the streets so late at night?” he demanded. “Simply taking a walk,” Lupe answered. “A likely story,” Anatole scoffed. “With swords?” “You have your swords, do you not?” “I am a First Born. You are not.” Anatole regarded him for a moment. “You are a vampire, are you not?” “Indeed I am.” “You are an abomination.” With that, Anatole drew his swords and in one motion attacked Lupe. Lupe, however, had been expecting this, and brought out his Tsurugi to block the first of Anatole’s swords. The second, however, swept under and cut him across the stomach. Lupe jumped back and assessed the damage – a light cut, only, bleeding freely but not too painful. In the time this took him, however, Anatole cast Globe of Darkness. Even with increased senses, Lupe was helpless against the lack of sight, and what with Anatole already having two swords, it was nearly impossible to block his attacks. Anatole danced around him for a while, lightly slashing at him while avoiding most of Lupe’s blind swipes, though a couple caught him. Then he left him, bleeding, walked a little ways away, and returned to cleaning his swords. “Good. Still not rusty,” he said to himself as he worked. Outcome: Anatole wins, Lupe loses. Anatole: 40 exp, 1 day healing Lupe: 20 exp, 3 days healing 12/10/05 A Tale Well Told by Corrigan Like any night, Gordon Kell strode into Martin’s Winebarrel, sat at the bar with his usual drinking cohorts and ordered a good strong mug of ale. Tonight, however, instead of just listening, Gordon would be doing the telling. All ready he was laying out the groundwork to Bradford and Jones. “So there I was, walkin’ up through the Commons when I sees somethin’. So I start walking towards it as it scampers on into the square. Across the way I see this elven women, lookin’ to be an adventurer, jus’ standin’ there lookin’ up at the stars an’ this little thing, it was white, runs right up to her.” “What was it?” asked Jones. “Well, I ‘ventually figured out it was a weasel,” replied Gordon, downing some ale. “Anyways, so it runs up to ‘er and ‘round in back o’ her and just leaps up on ‘er back!” ”Hood’s spit it did!” shot Bradford. “I swears to ya’ it did, but that ain’t all. She whips about, trying to get at it and all a sudden the thing, it shifts! It shifts into a man and brings the elf to the ground. Was a damn lycanthari! And was he quick! He had a sword in hand, but she wasn’t out yet.” He downed more ale to fuel the tale on. “Oh no. So she bucks up, loosening his hold on her then arcs up her back to get her legs ‘round his neck and tugs him down onto his back. Wasn’t too elegant, but she managed to squirm out and up and get her own sword at the ready.” “The lycanthari then gets up and muttered somethin’ to ‘er I couldn’t hear, but doesn’ matter. And he stalks ‘twards ‘er all lookin’ ready t’ kill and strikes. As I said, though, she was quick-“ “You never said she was quick, Gordon,” interrupted Bradford. “I did so!” came Gordon’s retort. “No you never!” “Doesn’ matter. Anyways, she was quick and got her sword up and blocked that attack, an’ the next’un and the one after, but he eventually got through. She cried out but quickly steeled ‘erself and lunged out at ‘im. She missed, but it was a good try. It was tough, y’see, to figure out who to go for. I mean, the shifter was attackin’ a First Born, but at the same time, he took ‘er by surprise, and she was a lady, after all…” “Just get on with it, Gordon,” whined Jones, completely wrapped in the tale. “Right… So she goes on the offensive, but he seems to have some skill over ‘er and easily knocks back ‘er attacks. Though, I think that big headedness got to him or somethin’ cause he slipped up and she managed to get a slash in at his arm. He grunted and backed off a moment to check his wound, but got right back in again. Couldn’ see how bad it was cause o’ the dark, but no matter. So they keep goin’ at it and eventually he guards high then pushes into her, overpowerin’ ‘er easily. They stay locked for a beat or two, but eventually she lost ‘er stand and ‘e knocked ‘er back arse over teakettle onto her back again. He then hunkered down low over ‘er and I don’t know what ‘e was going to do next but I worried it was somethin’ not too honourable, so I shouts out ‘Hey you there!’ and he looks up, but can’t quite see me and shifts again. And that was it, the weasel ran off into the shadows.” He took another big swig of ale. “And what’d you do then? Just leave her?” asked Jones. “Well, yeah. I didn’ wanna’ go out and ‘ave ‘im see I was just lil’ ol’ me. He’d be right back out and killin’ us both, then. But doesn’ matter. She got up and sprinted off anyways and I just ran as fast as I could back ‘ere, to tell you lot.” “Sounds like a load of bollocks to me,” grunted Bradford, returning to his ale. “So says you, Bradford, but that’s what you always says,” returned Gordon. “Well I thought it was a good story,” chimed in Jones. “Thank’ee, Jonesy. At least some people know a good tale when they hears one.” With great pride, Gordon ordered up another brew. “Let’s just hope I get somethin’ just as interestin’ tomorrow night!” Outcome: Lupe wins, Quilia loses Lupe: 40 exp, I day healing Quilia: 20 exp, 2 days healing 14/10/05 Heartburn by Corinaku The rolling hills rang with the sound of metal on metal as Kanto'rek Tja Den flew at Issyl Mourneblade. Short swords danced with each other, trying to find the flesh their master desperately sought. Kanto'rek cursed the second born as he'd failed to block the attack, and Issyl's sword plunged through his thigh. In retaliation, he released the burning feeling in the back of his throat, and unleashed fiery hell upon the Lycanthari. After the flames and smoke died away, Kanto limped off to his campsite to tend to his wound, as vultures began circling the downed Issyl. Outcome: Kanto'rek wins, Issyl loses Kanto'rek: 15 exp, 2 days healing Issyl: 5 exp, 4 days healing |