[IC] Kings & Killers: A Classic Fantasy Adventure (Chapter: 0) (COMPLETED)

[Cyrania]

Gwyneira Elfreda

Pinning the ribbon on, Gwyn recited her assignment number. "Slots 212 and 211, got it. I'll also be sure to relate that info to Hilda if I see her." And with that she stepped towards the gate, showed the ribbon to the guards, then passed through to the outer ring. The job seemed easy enough for five gold and free food. With the free tournament viewing, the situation might be seen as a party. She would stay professional, however, and take the opportunity to see experts in action and see what she could bring to her own fighting style. She might need that observation soon, given some of the looks she's been receiving. She was at least careful not to bump into anybody as she turned right at the outer ring. No need to thoughtlessly get her purse stolen. She looked for the numerical indicators.

"Slots 212 and 211, there they are." With that, she entered the closest cubicle and immediately saw two men. One was a dark hooded figure, a bit sickly looking for a human and the other was tall with black armor and a gash in his head. Well, the gash was the more immediate priority. Then she could see about the other's sickliness.

"Olberion the Unbent and Cicero Bladewalker?" She called. It was as good a guess as any who the two were even if they probably weren't supposed to get to know each other before battle. Most probably, one was an assigned patient while the other was a guest. Or they're both where they're not suppose to be and she's about to have a fight on her hands. "I'm Gwyneria Elfreda. I've been assigned as your healer for today." So saying, she started healing the armored one's gash.

[Spiritzer]

-

[Spiffy]

Cicero Bladewalker

Cicero listened to the man fully. He was willing to find out the weaknesses of Cicero's opponents, for 30% of the winnings. This kind of stuff happened all the time! Opponents would size each other up constantly, trying to find a weakness to exploit. What would be the harm in having some knowledge beforehand? It was likely they would do the same thing.

Something didn't sit right with Cicero. Maybe it was the scarred, shady figure, or the idea of a backdoor deal. Either way, Cicero didn't want to go forward with it. He was a knight for all that was good! Certainly he had his moments like anybody else, but he was held to a higher standard.

"I'm sorry. I can't win based on weaknesses gained through underhanded deals. I appreciate all your help either way and I anticipate you making a lot by betting on me."

With that he turned to see Gwyneria ask for him and one other person. Cicero was familiar with the healers in tournaments. They made the recovery so much easier. A lot less casualties occured because they were on the scene.

"I am Cicero Bladewalker."

Then the healer began to patch up the gash on Cicero and his armor. She was good at what she did, taking only a few seconds as the wounds closed. He asked,

"I haven't seen you working here before. Are you new to town?"

His attention was fully on his healer. There was something about her that he found different. Cicero didn't know what that was yet, but he intended to find out.

[Spiritzer]

@Spiffy@Cyrania

The Arena's Holding area, Alvion

"I'm n---yes." The cowled man snapped to look at Gwyneira soon after she entered, asking if they were who she implied they were.

Then the knight went on rambling about how he was too good for a little edge over the others, right in front of an official staff.

The bridge of his nose contorted with a grimace, but he said nothing more - watching intently as the elf walked forward to inspect cicero's wounds. She could feel his gaze pour over her from under that hood. When she walked past him, he immediately turned and disappeared with nary a sound or trace into the many halls the walkway led to. The door swinging to a close softly behind him...

[Cyrania]

Gwyneira Elfreda

Gwyn shrugged. "I'm just passing through," she replied. "I heard that the arena could use some healers and decided to check it out." The other man left, though it seems now he was trying to talk this client into doing something. Pity, his sickliness could have been a good time to see if her healing could work on illness.

She peered the knight up and down, trying to locate anything else that needed doing. Keeping busy had always been one way to avoid awkward conversations. Seeing nothing super obvious and knowing it was rude to magically check, she finally asked. "Do you have any other injuries that could use healing? Are you feeling off in any way? May as well try to get you to your peak before the match."

[Spiffy]

Cicero Bladewalker

Cicero shook his head and replied,

"That's everything, you have my thanks."

He watched as the sickly man left. He never did get his name..Hopefully wouldn't be an issue later. Regardless, he had a match coming up in a few hours with some time to kill. He looked the healer over and smiled.

"Well, there is one thing.."

He waited for her to reply. Then Cicero continued, clutching his stomach as it gurgled,

"My stomach feels so empty! Thankfully I know the cure. Come, let us eat at one of the venders here in the Colosseum. That would put me in top condition. What do you say, Ms. Elfreda?"

Despite his polished, proper demeanor, Cicero did have a sense of humor. He enjoyed a good time. Perhaps they would have an interesting conversation before the next match.

[Cyrania]

Gwyneira Elfreda

"Well that's good to hear." She started to try to figure out how to make the time before the match bearable. Then he thought that there was one more thing.

"Yes?"

When he outlined his request, Gwyn gulped. Refusing would seem rude, but she couldn't see how the eating could be anything but awkward. Unawkward social encounters, thy name was not Gwyneira Elfreda. But she hadn't had anything today other than that so called ale, and Bladewalker was offering. "If you're sure that you can do it without missing your first match, then I'll gladly accompany you. Though, you'll have to lead the way."

[Cyrania]

Cicero Bladewalker&Gwyneria Elfreda

Cicero nodded, ”Excellent. Follow me.” He led her through the outer sidewalk. Past folks of all kinds; poor, middle-class, and some of the more wealthy in the city. Everyone was there for a purpose. Some to gather a fortune through bets. Most would leave with empty pockets. Others for the pure spectacle of it all. Then, of course, there were the workers and contestants in the actual matches. Regardless of why they came, all had a purpose.

After a few minutes they arrived at their destination. A quaint wagon cart with a sign that said, Beorn’s Roasts. Cicero stated, ”Here we are. It's a humble little place, but you won't find a better pork roast in the city.” He walked up to the window and ordered two medium sized roasts with fresh wine to go with it. Not too strong, but enough that they wouldn't get sick from drinking it. He paid 5 silvers for the dual meals.

Cicero waited a few minutes for their order to arrive and picked them up. He sat down at a small table behind the wagon cart. They had them set up near the shops throughout the arena. After placing their meals, stood near the seat with his back to the wall. Cicero motioned for her to have a seat and would sit down after her. Common chivalry.

Gwyn nodded and sat down. ”Thanks. I’ve never been to this sort of place before.”

”There are many quaint places like it. You just need to know where to look.” He began to carve into his meal with the provided utensils. He ate properly, but Gwyn could tell he was holding back from completely devouring his meal. Cicero took a sip of wine and swirled it in the glass. ”So..I've seen a man dressed in black garb. I believe he's a magic user since he disappeared after he spoke with me. Have you seen a man like him?”

Gwyn took a sip of her wine and pondered. ”What happened after he disappeared? With the various ways that any wizard can disappear, the spells can be used as much of an identifier as the man’s appearance, especially when combined. I could think of various classmates that liked the dark garb for dramatic effect. Was there a residual entry way as he left, a sudden puff of smoke, or a simple vanishing?” Then she took her own civilized bites from the pork roast.

Cicero listened to her and looked thoughtful as she finished. He waited a few seconds before responding, having taken another sip of wine, ”He simply disappeared. No smoke. No flashing lights. Just gone.” He leaned in closer and continued, almost whispering, ”You know what’s even more strange? After he had already gone, I heard his voice laughing saying something about being ‘perfect for it.’” Cicero leaned back and glanced around to make sure no one else was listening and resumed carving his roast. Cicero continued chewing as he listened.

”Hm,” she replied. “Well, there’s certainly some possible explanations. Either he truly teleported away then talked to you via telepathy or some form of vocal projection or he never actually left you in the first place.” Gwyn glanced around to make sure no one was watching before setting down her silverware and smiled. ”There was an aspect of light magic discovered that showed how light rays could be shaped not only to create illusions but to outright hide a person. For instance, now you see me.” A snap of her fingers and the invisible spell was cast, instantly hiding her form from view. ”Now you don’t.” Oh if only her eyes weren’t blocked by the spell to be able to see his reaction. ”Intriguing right?”

When Gwyn disappeared Cicero began choking on his food in surprise, ”Gak! Awk! The food was dislodged from his throat and he managed to swallow it without another incident. After clearing his throat with some wine he stated, ”I thought you were a healer, not some powerful mage.” He looked around nervously, ”Alright I get it. It could be an invisibility spell. If that's the case he could still be around..” Cicero did not like the thought. After Gwyn became visible again Cicero asked,”Is there any way to sense an invisibility spell?” He truly hoped there was.

At the sound of his coughing, Gwyn laughed and revealed herself. ”Did it look something like that? A beginner can easily be detected by the fuzziness of their bended light, but a true master can only be detected by scent, noise, and feel if they bump into you or vice-versa. Of course, that’s only what I’m familiar with. There’s more than I know about. Something that a library or a similar respiratory of knowledge might contain.” She leaned back. ”Any place like that in this city?”

Cicero raised an eyebrow as Gwyn laughed. He smiled at his own expense and listened as she asked about a place of wisdom within Alvion as well as the look of the disappearance from earlier. Cicero replied, ”It did look like that. As for information centers...there are a number of them, but I'm not too familiar myself. I studied the martial arts not the magical ones. Alvion is known for training some powerful mages, however. I would start at the Royal Alvion Library.” Then he continued eating, having almost finished his meal.

Gwyn nodded as she took another sip.”Yes, that sounds like the sort of place I was thinking of.” She paused, considering. He seemed a better city guide than the barkeep and definitely more knowledgeable. She squared her shoulders. Perhaps, after the fights, you might take me there? I really don’t know my way around here and it might lead to answers about your mystery man.”

Cicero smirked, ”If I survive I'd be happy to show you around.” Then he chuckled, ”Once I get through this tourney we can search the library. Things are moving in this city and I'm not exactly sure what's going on.” Then he looked her right in the eye, ”Perhaps we have been brought together for such a time as this.” He looked down at his food and drink. Then he finished his roast and gulped the last of his wine. ”Ahh...I am finished. If you are quite done we could get a view of the battlegrounds before my bout. The last person I asked to be my coach refused. Would you be interested for a share of the winnings? I realize you are not into the martial arts, but your observations could prove invaluable.”

Gwyn smiled as she finished her own meal. ”I’d be happy to help in any way I can. Though you might want to wait and see of what quality my observations are before you offer wages.”

[Spiritzer]

@Spiffy@Cyrania

The Arena's Halls, Alvion

It is at this time, the toll of the bell signalling noon rang throughout Hightown and through the halls of the coliseum. The time for the matches drew close...

[Spiffy]

Gwyneria Elfreda

&

Cicero Bladewalker

Their conversation finished, the two headed towards the battlegrounds. Cicero showed Gwyn the various strategies combatants would employ. Those with closer ranged weapons would strive to stay in range by getting in their opponent’s face. Those with longer ranged weapons like spears would keep their opponents at a distance etc.

Cicero had been doing this for some time and his explanations were very in-depth. There was a gleam in his eyes as he described what he knew. Years of training and combat had given him great experience. He loved what he did and did what he loved. Before they knew it the first match gong sounded off. This was the 10 minute warning before it began. It was time.

Cicero walked into the arena with purpose. Methodical and steady. He'd done this numerous times over the years. He wasn't the most well known name there, but he was known in certain circles. Once Cicero reached his designated position he unsheathed his blade. Looking it over for any damage or dirt. Then he unslung his shield from his back. Satisfied, Cicero dropped his visor over his face and assumed a combat stance. He nodded to his opponent in acknowledgment out of respect. Once a battle began he was strictly business.

With a blare of trumpets, his opponent sauntered into the ring. He stroked his long golden locks, causing some of the the viewing girls to swoon. His rapier glinted with the sun in its sheath. He eyed Cicero as he made his way to the place, his eyes haughty but sharp in their appraisal. At the starting position, he drew his sword as he saluted before taking the en garde position.

The referee looked them both over to ensure they were in their correct positions. Once they stepped into their respective circles it was game on. He yelled out, ”Cicero Bladewalker faces Joshua Frostmay! Let the battle begin!”

Cicero began advancing on the fencer, his shield protecting the left side of his torso and side. His longsword pointing toward his opponent as he drew near. He was ready for any fancy movements from what appeared to be a quick footed combatant. As he drew close he waited for his opponent to make a move.

Joshua sidestepped to his opponent's right side and slashed towards the weak spot of the armor by the knees. His attack was light as he prepared to dodge the counter. The goal was to weary his opponent out after all.

The attack was fast, forcing to Cicero act quickly. He moved his right leg a step back in order to evade the slash. At the same time, he went for a backhand slash toward his opponent's right side. He hoped to catch him even with a small slash to weaken him. He was lightly armored and would go down quickly...if Cicero could catch him.

The attack narrowly missed Cicero’s leg as he stepped. Frostmay smirked as he parried Cicero’s backhand and stepped back further, keeping to the right side for now. His next slash aimed for the elbow, seeking to at least hinder the sword arm.

Cicero turned to keep up with Frost. He couldn't let him get his back. The attack went for his elbow this time. Rather than parry it, Cicero went for a thrust extending his arm toward his opponent's torso. With his arm extended, his exposed joint would be overlapped with platemail. He anticipated it being strong enough to take the slash.

Joshua sidestepped, but not quite quick enough. The tip of the blade pierced through the cloth and drew blood. The crowd roared and Joshua’s pride smarted. He sidestepped behind Cicero and thrusted where the sword arm met the torso, discreetly placing ice directly below his opponent's feet, grinning wolfishly. Cicero Bladewalker was going to pay.

Before he had a chance to celebrate, Cicero saw a blur move directly behind him. He knew he drew blood, so how did Frost move so quickly?! He attempted to turn around, but his foot slipped on what should have been solid ground! Joshua’s blade pierced the shoulder joint deeply. It didn't draw much blood, but the damage was done. Cicero grunted in pain, ”Agh!” He pulled away from his opponent with his upper body and tried to recollect himself by turning around to face him. His sword arm hung limp to his side. His hand gripped the handle tightly. He breathed heavily.

Joshua’s grin turned more triumphant. He had him now. He drew his sword from the wound, kept behind his wounded opponent's back then angled his strike towards the area between the shield arm and torso, renewing the ice. This upstart was going down.

Back at the cubicle viewing area, Gwyn was astounded. Something just wasn’t right here. There was no reason for Cicero to have slipped there and then. His movements before showed that he had a sure footing in his armor until suddenly he didn’t. She would have to figure out what was happening or Cicero was done for. “Think Gwyn, think. Both you and him had the port and pork roast and that was all you two ate recently. You’d healed him before and your heal usually takes care of poison. So poison can rather safely be ruled out. The fight hadn’t been going on long enough for him to be exhausted already. Magic then, but what kind? Cicero isn’t acting like a man possessed. Nor like his blood is being manipulated..Wait, what is the most likely water related magic subtype that would cause someone to slip?” She checked the ground beneath Cicero’s feet and was sure that she saw something glint in the light. “Ice then. But can I make absolutely sure? Could he possibly do something more obvious? What proof could others accept?”

Something wasn't right. The ground beneath Cicero had no traction and he couldn't get a sure footing. This Frost guy wasn't playing fair. Cicero had no time to think however, as he turned, his opponent moved with him. Frost kept Cicero's back to himself. Cicero's shoulder wound was deep. He wouldn't be doing any strong strikes with it for this battle. If he didn't act quickly he would be out of the tournament before it began! Cicero practically threw his shield arm behind himself as Frost’s blade narrowly deflected off of it. The fencer was aiming for Cicero's unarmored joints still. Which was to be expected. Cicero tried to think quickly in order to turn the match around. It didn't look good..

Ah, the opponent was becoming desperate now. A move like that was purely defensive, leaving the enemy in a bad place to attack or counter-attack. Cicero was merely seeking to survive now. Joshua’s grinn deepened. Not that that would help him. The real question now was how much of a spectacle could he make of the fight’s last moments and how far should he go. Accidents did happen after all. For now, he stabbed at the two knee joints one after the other, the weak spots perfectly exposed to his thirsty blade from back here. Meanwhile, he had the ice encase the bottom of the knight’s feet, enough to trap without being obvious. This one did not deserve any dignity for his end for he had ruined the reputation and profit of the untouchable and unscratchable Frostmay.

Once again, Cicero was on the defensive. The ice encased the bottoms of his feet as the fencer attempted to stab his exposed knee joints. Cicero felt his feet were stuck and with a flash of anger and energy, he threw all of his body weight forward. The ice could not hold the massive weight of Cicero combined with his armor. It cracked as he rolled to get out of the way of Frostmay’s strikes. The first stab barely sank into the surface of Cicero's left knee before he managed to roll away, completely evading the second one. Adrenaline numbed any pain he may have felt otherwise. Cicero expected Frost to be right on his heels. He dropped his shield to the ground in a feigned sign of resignation. Meanwhile, he slowly gripped his sword handle with his left hand. Now he was going two-handed. He waited a brief moment in a crouched position. It felt like ages until he finally thought, ”Now! Cicero swung his sword behind with all the speed he could by flexing his core and turning his hips to the right. He aimed at his own level to increase the range of his swing. Even though his right arm was almost limp, the contortion of his body weight and his left hand gave him the momentum he needed to make a decent slash at his opponent's legs. He hoped Frost would be too blind by his own success to expect a surprise counter attack from an opponent who could hardly use an arm.

A flash of steel was all the warning Josh had before he tried to parry, too late to save his now injured right thigh but enough to save his other leg. The cheers of the crowd managed to cover his cry of agony. Served him right for getting careless. He hopped out of the immediate range of the knight on his surviving leg and quickly took stock. The leg was still attached, but bleeding heavily and wouldn’t support his weight well any time soon. Trying to stop the bleeding with ice would probably make the wound more severe. Frostmay’s mind started to race. What to do? This fight had to end now or he was done for.

Cicero turned fully to meet his opponent head on. With Frostmay’s leg cut up his speed was severely lowered. Even with Cicero's knee injury on top of his shoulder one, he had a chance to keep up now. He limped forward holding his sword with both hands. His shield lay on the arena floor behind him. As far as Cicero was concerned, the fight was going to end right here right now. He feigned an overhead slash and went for another lunge thrust. Hopefully he would move fast enough to end the fight right then and there.

Frostmay managed to keep up with the feint and saw what his opponent planned to do. He coated the floor under where Cicero’s front lunge foot would land while parrying the sword thrust. Cicero slipped with his leading right foot on the ice. His left knee had already been injured and he was unable to regain his balance with it. He fell to his injured left knee. A sharp pain rang through it as he raised his sword in defense of an inevitable counter attack. Cicero knew his opponent was cheating, but didn't want to win by calling Frost out himself. Call it honor..call it stupid pride.

Joshua grinned. The foe was down. Frostmay raised his sword, aiming for a killing thrust. “Foul Play!!!” A voice shouted through the arena. Frostmay missed his target completely in alarm. His eyes searched for the source of the words. “Foul Play!!” His eyes found a elven healer running onto the field, fierce and determined in her manner as the crowds overhead became more and more agitated until she stood by the dark knight.

As she ran, she sent out ribbons of light to surround his various ice patches and allow them to show by their reflections. The elf spoke again. “This man has been illegally using magical techniques within a competion of pure martial talent. I can show where his ice surfaces are still intact on the ring, the water sourced from his melting creations, and the ice crystals still around Cicero Bladewalker’s sabatons. Is there need of more proof for this treachery?”

The referee looked over the patches Gwyn pointed out and stared at Frostmay. He looked at the patches and back to Frostmay again. Then to Cicero panting on the ground as he lifted his visor. The referee called out after thinking for a moment, ”Frostmay is disqualified for using magic in a martial battle! Cicero Bladewalker is the victor!”

The crowd was perplexed for a moment. They slowly began to clap, then they crescendoed into full on applause, roaring for the victor, ”Cicero! Cicero! Cicero!” Cicero struggled to his feet and motioned Gwyn to help him stand. His knee was in a bad place. Gwyn stooped down so that Cicero could lay his weight against her before rising up again. He rested his damaged right arm around Gwyn and sheathed his sword as he raised a hand to the audience. Waving to them with a worn smile on his face. She managed to grab his shield as they hobbled back to the cubicles.

As they were leaving, Gwyn glared back at the figure of Joshua Frostmay. His face was one of perfect shock as the guards dragged away the before unscratchable fencer now very scratched.

[Cyrania]

Cicero Bladewalker & Gwyneria Elfreda

Once back at the cubicle and his room, Gwyn quickly hobbled her patient over to bed and sat him down. His wounds were going to need to be treated soon. His sword arm was practically dislocated. His knee was seriously bleeding. No telling how many other cuts and bruises there were under that armor. Oh, if only she’d moved quicker to prove the foul play. No time for that now. First thing was to gather a clean cloth and a bowl of water for cleansing the wounds. Fortunately, such things were available in the room and were prepared in under a minute. Second thing was to get a better look at the damage. She paused and looked at Cicero’s eyes. “I’m going to need to remove your armor and possibly your gambason. Your wounds are too serious for me to just treat like I did the gash from earlier. I need to have a better look.”

Cicero nodded. Doctor’s orders right? The adrenaline had worn off and he was starting to really feel the pain. He began to take off the various pieces of armor he could with his left arm. He had done it many times before, but it was much more difficult without a second hand. Cicero looked at the healer and cocked his head slightly, ”I..owe you. I couldn’t force myself to call him out on his cheating. That could have gotten me killed..” He looked away somewhat ashamed of his stupid pride. Cicero continued to take off what he could revealing his upper gambison and head. He used his good arm to begin unfastening his left leg armor. It revealed a deep wound that bled profusely. Cicero grimaced in pain.
Gwyn grimaced with him upon seeing the injury. She used heal to stop the bleeding through repairing the veins, then dipped the cloth into the water as she finished healing the rest of it. “While that was stupid of you, I can imagine how it could have been a feather in your cap to have defeated Frostmay even though he was cheating. The pleasure of achieving something that turned out to be unexpectedly dangerous is thrilling. You weren’t the only stupid one though.” She paused, making sure the knee was healing right before continuing her cleaning, grimacing as a minor headache started to form. “I ought to have acted sooner. I realized what was happening but didn’t immediately call it out since I wanted to make sure there was enough proof. I was worried that speaking too soon would make it seem like I was lying or make my proof be insufficient to prove guilt for either party or actually show that I was completely wrong in what I thought.”

Cicero began to wave off Gwyn’s words about her being stupid with his arm, but it happened to be the injured one. He grimaced again and stated, ”If you called it off too early they may have ejected you instead of him. You did the right thing..” He unbuttoned his gambison the best he could with one hand. It looked awkward as he did it. He looked at her expectantly, ”A little help?”

Gwyn smiled. “Of course.” Then she pulled off the rest of the gambison and inspected the right arm. It wasn’t bleeding like the other one at least, but still bad. She repeated the process she’d used for the knee injury while also making sure the arm was aligned right so it healed properly. She sighed. “This does reflect badly on my ability as a coach. Though I have gotten a look at your next competitor.”

Cicero watched her work with fascination. Despite the pain, feeling your wounds heal was exhilarating. He didn't expect to walk well on that leg or use his right arm well in combat today. However, under her care he felt he would make a full recovery. As an afterthought he asked, ”My next opponent you say?” He raised an eyebrow curiously.

”Yeah,” she said distractedly. The wounds were healed, but Gwyn wanted to see if she could get them good as new. The bruises needed some care however. She continued talking as she prepared her heal spell to handle them all at once. “He’s bigger than you but also heavily armored and uses a giant blade. His goal will probably be to knock you out with hard enough hits. As much as I hate to say it, you are probably going to have to take a bit after Frostmay’s example to win. Dodge the hits and aim for the weak spots. His armor had the same ones you did.” As she pulsed the heal throughout his body, dark spots appeared in her vision. The headache she’d been ignoring became a full on migraine. She raised a hand to relieve it and started to straighten herself out when a dizzy spell hit. ”Rats!” She exclaimed as she fell forward.

Cicero's eyes widened and he instinctively reached out and caught her with his good arm. She was light, comparatively to the 190 pound knight. He exclaimed out loud, ”Hey! Don't overdo it now!” She remained motionless as he pulled her close so that she would not fall. She was still breathing, he noticed. Cicero laid her on the the bed next to him. His wounds were much better though a little stiff. Cicero felt a little guilty that he was the one who taxed her energy so much. He spoke to her, ”Hey...are you alright?” She did not respond but continued breathing. Those spells must have really taken a lot out of her. He reached for his water flask nearby and attempted to wake her up by pouring some on her forehead. Cicero was no medic, but he did his best with what he knew.

The splash of water brought Gwyn to shocking wakefulness. She rose up before feeling the headache and remembering what had happened. She groaned as she rubbed her head. ”Sorry. I guess I overdid a bit there.” Internally, she was fuming. She ought to know her limits by now. Her instructors had constantly chidded her to remember them, and would she listen? No!! She tried to push herself up to a standing position.

Cicero did his best to push her upright. Getting some good drink in her would bring her back to full capacity. He replied, ”Magic seems to come with a high cost..the greater the effect the more strain. Would you agree?” He began to take his sword and shield, laying them against the wall. Cicero was tired after that last battle and needed to rest for a few hours before the next bout. He placed the upper portion of his armor on the floor after struggling to unfasten his left side. Then he sat down on his bed again with a sigh.

Gwyn stood and drank from her waterskin, pondering. How to best answer the question? “There may be a cost to magic,” she responded. “But magic is worth it!” She set down her waterskin and her persona seemed to light up. “I know there is bad that comes from magic and costs, but when it's used properly, for the sake of others or for magic’s sake itself, it’s wondrous and beautiful in all its forms! The shape of ice sculptures, the shimmering of light in its visible spell forms, the flames of fire in its resplendent colors of red, gold, and blue, all natural wonders shaped through magic to become more splendid. Masters of magic are able to cause water to fall where its dry, those near the doors of death to be brought back to life, plants to grow and become a forest or a farm or meadow where there was none before.” She had to restrain herself from showing off some light illusions to illustrate that aspect given the circumstances, but promised herself she was going to show him later. “In short, magic is worth the struggle and costs that it incurs and I shall do so even after I have completely mastered its use.”

Cicero listened thoughtfully as Gwyn poured out her feelings about magic and its uses. Most of his life, Cicero had been so focused on martial combat that he knew very little about the magic in the world. Gwyn seemed like the person that had a lot of wisdom on the topic. He was sure that she was on her way to becoming one of the lead scholars in her field of healing. At least as far as Cicero could speculate. When she mentioned, ”ice”, Cicero chuckled aloud. Only minutes before he had been dealing with that little gift from Frostmay. When she was finished Cicero nodded respectfully and smiled, ”You have a great passion for magic. So much so that I can almost say the same for myself!” He laughed aloud and continued, ”I can see its benefits as well as its negatives. But it seems to me, like any weapon or tool,” he glanced at his sword, ”they can be used for both good and ill. It is not so much the tool being the problem, but the individual using it.” Cicero took a long swig from his waterskin and sighed contentedly, ”I appreciate all your help. I'm going to rest now. You should probably do the same. I will see you in two hours before the next fight.” He gave her a thumbs up with his formerly injured arm.

Gwyn awkwardly returned the thumbs up and smiled. Well, he hadn’t outright mocked her dream or anything, may as well be polite. ”Right, see you then.” Then she went to the healer rest area for a good hour and a half nap.

[Spiffy]

The Man and The Mountain

A collaboration between Spiffy & Cyrania

The Man and The Mountain

Cicero was well rested before his next match. His formerly injured shoulder and knee were stiff, but moveable. From what he heard about his next opponent, he was a tanky lumbering sort with a large blade. ”That is unfortunate,” he thought to himself. With his speed limited, Cicero would have a hard time evading. Could he trade blow for blow? Not from what he had heard about him...

Then he turned his head toward the sunset vial. It could be just what he needed at a time like this..but was it dishonorable? The thought gnawed at him. Frostmay was the dishonorable one! Why should he suffer for someone else's transgression? If anything the vial would even the odds making the next matches fair.

Then the memory of Cicero's father came to mind. It usually did when questions about morality entered his mind, ”Cicero, if you wish to achieve wisdom and live life to the fullest, you must follow the precepts of chivalry and the law of our God. Do not turn aside to the right or the left. If you do this you will be like an immovable mountain. Speak justice, love mercy, walk humbly before your God.”

Cicero knew what he must do. He took the vial in his hand and stared at the liquid within. It was a beautiful sunset orange. He knew he couldn't leave it here. These rooms were notorious for getting robbed. He placed it within his carry on. He donned his armor and weapons. Then headed out toward the arena after locking up. Cicero hid his stiffness well. He looked completely fine.

Cicero looked over the healer balcony for Gwyn. He could trust her to look over the vial and his silver while he fought, right? More than anyone else here. When he thought he spotted her he waved his good arm and called out, ”Gwyneria!! Over here!” Cicero waited for her to come close before he handed over his belongings in his leather bag, ”Are you feeling refreshed? Do you mind holding onto these while I destroy my opponent?” Cicero smirked as he said “destroy.” In reality, he didn't know how things would turn out.

Gwyn raised her eyebrow. That wasn’t the usual wording, was it? Of course, it also wasn’t usual to be trusted to hold another’s stuff during the first day of meeting But she took the offered bag and said. “Yes, I’m feeling more ‘refreshed’, thank you very much, and I’ll be happy to guard your belongings for you during the fight.” She paused, hopefully she had her words right. “Good luck in the fight today, tiger.”

Cicero smiled and lowered his visor hiding his eyes behind it. He turned his back to Gwyn and replied, ”I have something much better than luck..I have a friend.” Before she could reply he headed towards his gate. The next match would commence shortly. The guards looked Cicero over to confirm he was the next contestant. They let him through.

---

---

Cicero slowly walked up to the designated circle. He needed a strategy to take this big guy down. Maybe watching him for any weaknesses in his stance or moves would give Cicero the openings he needed to end his opponent rightly.

His opponent lumbered in through the other side. He easily towered over the assembly with a gigantic two-handed steel sword the length of Cicero slung over his shoulder. His black and crimson armor covered him so completely that no one could tell what race he was. Some in the audience rumored that he was half-troll or giant. Others that he was a demonborn whose height came from his demonic parentage. No one could dispute how he’d managed to earn the title of the Unbent. As he came close, he silently nodded in acknowledgement towards his diminutive foe and readied his stance, holding his sword out in front of him.

Cicero drew his sword with his left hand. The sound of cold steel echoed through the arena. His sword’s song would be sung again..Cicero took his shield off his back and nodded back to his opponent. He was ready. The referee, less enthusiastic then before (a long day would do that to him), announced, ”Olberion the Unbent faces Cicero Bladewalker...fight..”

Cicero made his way slowly toward his opponent. He sidestepped to his own left, utilizing his good leg for the majority of the work. Hopefully his large opponent wouldn't catch on. His sword ready in front of him.

Olberion watched his opponent’s movements, turning around to keep the bantam knight in front of him. Cicero was moving a little awkwardly but that wasn’t proof enough that he was still hurt from the fight before. It was too bad that the fencer had decided to cheat. He’d been looking forward to fighting this one for awhile after hearing some of his reputation. Instead, he’d let Cicero have the first attack. It was one way to even the odds and allow him to figure out what strategy he needed to counter against.

His opponent went unmoved..That was not what Cicero wanted. He continued to circle around him in order to find an opening. ”Oh, boy,” he thought. This guy was large. Without his full speed it didn't look too good. But he had to try. Cicero moved at him and feigned a strike high before switching to hit his opponent's right wrist. If he could wear out his sword hand, Cicero could take care of the rest. That sword was his biggest threat. He utilized his left hand for his sword and his right for the shield. That way he could still give out relatively quick strikes.

Clever. The knight had managed to nick his wrist before he could get it out of the way. Olberion had to say he was impressed as he beat back Cicero’s sword then thrusted towards the chest. May as well see just how able to dodge he was.

Cicero’s focus grew in intensity as he struck Olberion’s wrist. As the gigantic blade thrusted, Cicero turned his body sideways and to the left. He raised his shield to protect his neck and right side. The blade slid along the side of the shield as Cicero attempted to lunge toward his opponent. This was his chance! The giant opened himself up with that careless thrust. Even with Cicero being slowed, he just might be able to punish him grievously. With Olberion’s sword extended, his armpits would be exposed. Cicero attempted to stab his right armpit.

The strike missed by a whisker as Olberion pivoted backward so that the sword thrust missed his armpit. So planning to stab available weak spots. That was always a difficult one to counter but not impossible and definitely showed a thinking opponent. Those were always the most challenging. He sent a slash towards Cicero’s sword hand to attempt to disarm him.

”So close!” Cicero thought. Cicero lowered his shield slightly in defense of his sword hand as Olberion’s weapon cut through the air like a tree trunk. It bashed against Cicero's shield and nearly knocked him off balance. His shoulder twinged in pain. If he hadn't already moved in close, the strike would have had even greater momentum. Shaking off the blow as best he could, Cicero moved in towards his opponent diagonally by pressing his shield against his opponent’s blade. By doing this he hoped to eliminate larger swings and greater damage. With his shield against Olberion’s sword, Cicero attempted an underhand strike against the wrist with all the strength he could muster. In this way, he would avoid Olberion’s protective gauntlets.

Olberion pushed with his shoulder against his foe’s shield, not noticing the strike towards his wrist until it hit. He grimaced then said in an almost guttural growl, “That was quite the strike, Bladewalker…” Then he continued to push Cicero away before he switched his main right hand with his left one. Then he thrusted forward aiming for the foe’s torso.

Cicero replied almost instinctively, ”My thanks.” after being shoved away, Cicero planted his feet to regain his footing. When Olberion prepared another thrust, Cicero couldn't help but think Olberion was testing him and looking for openings. Even though Cicero had already gotten two clean hits off, he still felt like Olberion was holding back. ”Let his hesitancy be the end of him then!” He thought. Once more, Cicero pivoted only this time to his right. Being too predictable would only make you an easy win for somebody else in a place like this. He raised his shield to deflect the incoming thrust and lightly pressed against it. It was obvious Cicero couldn't fight strength against strength. He had to be tactical and precise in his execution. He lunged forward as best he could with his weakened leg and went for another underhand slash at Olberion’s left wrist. He could do this..

This time, Olberion lifted his wrist high up out of the range of his foe’s strike and chuckled. The rhythm was properly established now. His moved his right hand up the blade to half-sword then aimed the thrust towards down towards Cicero’s left elbow. Once the rhythm was established, the true fun began.

That was unexpected..Cicero sidestepped to his right and slashed at Olberion’s left knee joint as hard as he could. Cicero's own left knee slowed him down somewhat. He hoped he was quick enough to evade that nasty thrust. Olberion’s massive blade narrowly missed Cicero’s arm and slammed into the ground with a loud "BOOM" directly behind him. Cicero was shaken off balance from the massive shockwave that carried throughout the adjacent stands. The crowd let out a loud, ”Woahhh..” in amazement.

Olberion was now in a bit a pickle. His sword was now stuck in the ground, requiring some work to get out, and of course his bad knee had to be the one first targeted. He suppressed his groan of pain as much was possible and decided to punch Cicero’s head with his left hand while pulling up the sword with his right, grimacing for the pain it was causing his wrist.

Cicero heard a low growl as his weapon crashed against Olberion’s left knee. That's interesting,” he thought. As Cicero began to regain his balance Olberion’s fist struck him on the left side of his helmet hard. He fell to his right side. Cicero's head felt dizzy rather then injured. His helmet did well to protect him. While laying down he attempted to swing his weapon at his opponent's left knee again. Cicero figured it couldn't take much more punishment before it gave out. Afterward, he rolled to his right in order to evade any expected counterattack.

Olberion really needed to invest in better armor for his left knee. He managed to step away from the dizzy attack launched from Cicero but his knee was grouchy for being moved at all after being hit. He held his sword back into position and waited for his opponent to get back up. It was no fair attacking an opponent when they were down, especially in a friendly, non-lethal match-up.

Cicero stood up panting. Olberion was one of the toughest fighters he'd yet come across. Not only was he strong, but honorable too; allowing Cicero to get up unaccosted. Cicero briefly bowed his head and said, ”Your strength and intelligence is unmatched within these walls, Olberion the Unbent. Your name is well earned.” Cicero raised his head and and got into a combat stance once again.

The tall knight shrugged. “Just call me Olberion. And don’t sell yourself short. It's been awhile since anyone’s lasted this long in a fight.” He went back to the half-sword hold with right leading and left on the hilt before thrusting towards the left shoulder again.

The range on his attacks were great, but they were not the fastest. The sheer size of his weapon slowed their motion, but more then made up for what it lacked in speed with brute force. Cicero backed up just enough to bash the weapon directly downward with his shield. He then pressed it into the ground with his body weight as he slid his shield forward over the top of the blade at an angle as he lunged forward on the left side of the weapon. He feigned for another underhand strike at Olberion’s wrist but turned it into thrust at his left knee. It was a little awkward to hit from his position on the opposite side, but Cicero leaned in with it to give himself extra range at the expense of balance.

Olberion had raised his wrist again to avoid the attack while also disengaging with the shield when the real thrust landed on his left knee again. He tried to swallow his pain, but it was intense. He swung his pommel towards his opponent’s back he could see below him through the pain. One more hit and he wouldn’t be on that knee anymore.

The strike hit true. Directly at the weakened knee. Unfortunately, Cicero had no time to move after being off balance. All he could do was raise his tired shield arm above himself before the inevitable impact of Olberion’s pommel. He braced himself as well as he could as he pulled his sword arm to ready another strike.

The pommel landed on the shield, crashing it into his foe and the cracking of bone could be heard. Olberion backed away grimacing from his injured knee and wincing at the damage he’d caused. At least healers were around to make sure people could heal from arena wounds. He then prepared for what Cicero would do next.

”AGHHHH!”” Cicero yelled out. The crowd all winced at the sound of bone cracking. Cicero wasn't sure what part, but his right arm was broken and would be nigh useless for the rest of this fight. ”Gwyn is going to kill me,” was the only thing that came to his mind. Cicero slowly stood up. His head was angled down as he breathed heavily. His right arm throbbed in pain. It was stuck in the bent position, shield still attached. Suddenly Cicero looked up and directly at Olberion. He stared at him for a few awkward seconds before finally whispering through his labored breathing, ”Nice.” Then he began to walk forward sword in front of himself. He was on a mission and he had to see this thing through.

Gwyn groaned from her position. Cicero was going to get himself killed one of these days. While there was no foul play she could detect, Cicero was still barely in there. Were all of his arena fights like this? Poor other healers who’ve had to care for him over the years. As it was, she was barely going to have enough energy left to heal both his arm and Olberion’s knee and wrist. None of those injuries were deadly though. She couldn’t justify trying to end the match yet. His pride had already smarted enough from the first match and being unable to deal with the unexpectedness of Frostmay’s magic and how she’d needed to get him out of that. It would only be worse if she stopped this one early as well. All she could do was make sure she was rested enough to handle the resulting injuries.

Olberion found himself impressed by the determination of his foe. An injury like that would cause most to surrender already. Though that kind of determination could prove detrimental if not properly controlled. Still, Olberion was curious what Cicero would try next and so was on his guard again. Allow him one more free pass before this fight was over. Olberion thankfully didn’t have to rely on a completely unbroken winning streak like most. His supporters and fans knew that he lost some, but won the majority he came across. Whatever the outcome of this fight, it wouldn’t affect him too much in the long run.

Cicero's opponent did not move from his position. So he knew it would be his own move that would restart the match. What to do..His arm was useless, and by extension his shield. His knee was still wonky. Then he noticed it; Olberion’s weight was almost entirely on his right leg. The damage to his left knee kept him off of it. He would expect another strike at it and would do everything in his power to protect it. He could even use it as bait. Cicero knew that this was do or lose. He had to make this work. As he approached just inside Olberions range Cicero began to slide toward Olberion’s left knee again. When he was just in range he faked a strike toward his face as a surprise and then feigned a thrust at his left knee. He anticipated the giant to expect such a move. That's when he turned his feint into a lunge stab at his opponent's opposite knee. With the majority of his weight on it he hoped to topple him over and do some damage while he was at it.

Olberion had to say he was impressed as he fell to the ground. It was a well done double feint. He’d been able to respond to the the first and second one in an adequate amount of time. But the actual lunge had been so out of the blue yet on point. There was definitely skill and intellect in this one. Now was the question of what he’d do. He attempted to quickly roll up back onto his knees facing Cicero since the legs were no go. He could still fight on his knees. The referee would probably call Cicero winner soon, but he prefered to be in some sort of fighting position when it was called. There, he was finally on his knees. The pain was screwing with his vision, but he still held his sword.

The referee looked up from his nails and saw Cicero topple over “the Unbent". At that point he walked over and watched Olberion get back on his knees. They both looked really messed up. He probably should have called it awhile ago, but he was preoccupied flirting with someone in the audience. He quickly yelled out, ”Due to not being able to continue upright, Olberion is out of this fight! Cicero is the victor!” He really hoped he wouldn't lose his job over this..

Cicero sighed in relief, ”Finally..” He lifted his visor and gave Olberion one last look. He smiled then collapsed to the ground, passing out.

---

---

Olberion sighed. Seemed like the kid was going to need some help off the field. Today was not going to leave much dignity for either of them. He shuffled over on his wounded knees, wincing as he went with the crowd cheering and booing in the background. As he got there, their shared medic, Elfreda was it? She’d already arrived and was trying to to lift Cicero by herself. It was almost comical seeing her struggle to lift a man three times heavier than she could. It wouldn’t help the kid get his arm healed. He shuffled over and heaved the man gently onto his own shoulder. The healer looked startled, but Olberion simply shrugged and started shuffling over to the cubicles when he felt his knees lessen in pain. He looked back at Elfreda.

Gwyn answered the knight’s questioning gaze. “I’m going to need to do a better job later, but for now it would be better for your knees if you were not crawling on them.”

Olberion nodded at her and stood up before the two of them continued their way to the cubicles. Once there he gently laid him down on his bed, before looking back at Elfreda. ”You’ll probably want help prying off the shield?”

“Yes,” Gwyn responded. ”Though you should stay here regardless. After I deal with his arm, I can do a better job on your knees.” This was going to take her to the edge of what reserves she had, but she could at least do something. First thing was making sure the arm bone was set right and get it properly started on its healing.

Olberion nodded again then sat down beside Cicero start working on getting the shield off. Definitely was well constructed and seemed older. It therefore took some work to get off while Elfreda got the water, cloth, splint, and wraps ready. Finally, Olberion managed to wrestle it off then set to work peeling off the armor, gambeson, and other layers until the bare arm was visible. It really didn’t look good. The arm was completely separated at the elbow with the lower part hanging loose. Thankfully, none of the bone broke through skin. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. The shield combined with his armor prevented a worse fate. Olberion was glad that his great strength did not maim the knight. He was very likeable even on their first meeting. He held the broken pieces in place as the healer came over.

Gwyn was relieved that the break looked clean at least. There was still the potential concern of internal bleeding, but it could be handled if so. She adjusted Olberion’s hold so that the bones would better heal together. Then she set to work. Gwyn wrapped the bandages around his arm and the splint as she sent a heal through his arm. Everything about the injury was easy for what type of injury it was and soon the cast had been constructed and the arm was on its way to becoming strong once more.. as long as it didn’t get majorly hurt again! She then turned to Olberion. ”Let’s take a look at your knees now.”

Olberion started to get up. “You’ve already been healing his injuries and dealt with my knee pain sufficiently in the field. I should get back in my cubicle to prepare for what’s next.”

Gwyn stood in front of Olberion. ”You helped Cicero leave the arena when no one required you to and you were in serious pain. That’s worthy enough of my finishing the job I started. There’s also the fact that you’re also my patient and it's my job. You won’t need to remove your armor since you obviously prefer to always wear it around others, but I will finish healing what I can of your knees”

Olberion conceded to Gwyn and sat back down. Time passed in silence as Gwyn healed Olberion’s knees as much as she could without going overboard. Olberion thanked her as he left while Gwyn rested and held vigil over Cicero.

Cicero lay on his bed for the next few hours sleeping soundly. He awoke occasionally and drank some water or had some jerky for energy. He would need it for the finals. He only hoped his arm would be in good enough condition by then. He thanked Gwyn for her steadfastness, and hoped to one day repay her.

[Spiritzer]

The Arena, Before dusk in Alvion

The mid day sun beat down on the sandy plateau that was the Arena, shadows danced among the many pillars but the center remained clear. Crowds had gathered in earnest throngs, some barely seating to contain their excitement.

A thin, tall man with a white curly wig stood in the center. No longer willing to flirt in the pressence of a watchful gaze. He curtsied to the crowd, tapping his cane on the floor to get their attention.

"Gracious folk of Alvion, ladies and gentlemen from the Otherlands! Today!"

"TODAY! Is our decadely celebration of the day we drove back the fiends. The day! We established humanity's hold on these lands a hundred years ago, the day our elven, halfling and mankind's ancestors built fair Alvion! In rememberence of the sacrifice they made, in here we shall fight as they did! AND IF EVER THERE BE ANOTHER SCOURGE~~~-"

He took off his hat, placing it solemnly against his chest.

"We will have our champions!! -ON MY RIGHT, from right here in Alvion, Cicero of House Bladewalker!"

The crowd roared in cheers, some jeers, likely from fans of other contenders.

"ON MY LEFT! Travelled from the swamps of Navoreth, Rhakkar!"

It was at this point the two were to walk on the stage of battle and flourish their skills as they address the crowd, Rhakkar screamed at the top of his lungs an unholy sound then glared at Cicero, drawing axes in both hands. The spectators stood, a few cheered - he was a favourite of many a halfdemon.

Fom the highest stand overwatching the scene, a figure emerged, stood tall in regal red and white velvet. A gold laurel rested on his temple, glinting in the noon. His face though young, bore a solemn expression well beyond his years. He raised his hand, the crowds clapped for their monarch. Therian the III specifically requested his arrival to do away with as little announcement as possible, but alas he must still address his subjects in one way or another.

"For the glory of Alvion!"

He hollered simply, a smile barely restrained on his lips. Then sat back down as calmly as possible. This was the championship match he was about to watch...

"Gentlemen. ...For the glory of Alvion."

The announcer took two steps back, cutting a palm between them then turned on his heels.

The stage belonged to them now...

---

@Spiffy

Usually contestants would bear some formality with each other, a few exchanged words, prosed taunts to prod at the ego, even a nod would suffice. But Cicero knew that his foe had not a single bone of honour among men and it proved true rhakkar simply waited for the Bladewalker to bow - that was when he liked to suprise them. But Cicero did not bow.

He spit, looking at the crowds for a long while before a smug smile spread on his lips. Without further ado, he charged Cicero, flinging axe after axe at the knight. He had more than he had last time and it seemed someone had provided him with better quality weaponary than the last they met, these were steel axes forged by civillized men now. They flew faster, weighed less and had sharper edges.

The knight was at a disadvantage for he bore no ranged weaponary, he could stand his ground and raise his shield - weathering the barrage until the barbarian came close where he could return the advance. Or he could back to the outer edges, let the setting sun and shadows blur his form to make the axes more likely to miss their mark, loaning him some time to think of a better strategy.

---

@Cyrania

It was as Gwyneira was watching from the stands, hugging the satchel that held her ...friend's... items with rested hands. That she looked up and noticed that there was no woman with red hair by Therian's side, reminding her of her unfulfiled task, minor as it seemed. But the monarch looked uneasy, his eyes though filled with excitement at the bloodshed, had been dulled by the occasional squint then fingers rubbing his temple.

She could go further up in the spectator's seats to pay more attention to the ruler of Alvion as he whispered to his guards. If anything, out of curiousity. Yet if she did so, she would be giving up a front row seat - the crowd up there would clearly make it more difficult to view the match. Staying would let her watch the duel more closely.

This is still a roleplay.

The hints are just that, hints, the obvious things in front of the characters. But if there's something they would do other than those, do go ahead and I will plan accordingly.

Cicero had one less hidden option due to the leg still slightly difficult to walk with.

Gwyneira's alertness increased from last two matches, allowing her to notice Therian's odd behaviour.

[Cyrania]

Gwyneira Elfreda

Gwyneria eyed the king from her position as he talked with his guards and raised an eyebrow. Was all his fidgeting and such really because this Hilda woman wasn't there? The elf barely remembered being told to tell the girl that his highness was expecting her if seen. She hadn't gone out of her way to do that since she'd needed to check on her patients and then Cicero happened. But, she was reasonably certain she hadn't spotted a short, red-headed female in white robes around. What was she to the king, a healer for some secret aliament, a consort, a friend, a secret daughter? Was this king even married? She ought to know that last one. Gwyn was half-inclined to get close enough to maybe hear what the king was telling his guards to satisfy her curiosity and half rose from her seat, when she thought of Cicero.

She looked down onto that singular knight. Cicero, her proud patient that had been seriously wounded in his last two battles and might die if she wasn't quick enough to call the match if the referee kept not doing his job. Cicero, who had declared her a friend and entrusted his possessions to her safekeeping after less than a day of knowing each other. Friendships couldn't really be made that fast, could they? True friendships took time. She wasn't planning to stay in Alvion forever. She was only going to stay as long as it took to learn all there was here about magic. She'd be leaving and he'd be here and the passage of time apart would cause any friendship or camaraderie between them to fade away. She had seen it happen before just from being a being more interested in magic and books then any friends she'd tried to make before. Zviad had even taken to resenting her after she'd proven to be a magical prodigy. There was no way that what was between her and Cicero was anywhere close to true friendship or that what they had would last their eventual separation. Yet today, Cicero considered her his friend and was trusting her to be there to help him when needed. Gwyn wouldn't betray that trust and would stay here to support him and make sure he didn't get himself killed against the crazy dwarf.

She would also keep part of her attention on the king to see if there were further developments. And maybe later, she'd look up Hilda and ask her about what was going on. If she was his consort, maybe she was unwilling and this was her attempt to escape? Gwyneria shook her head. She couldn't let her imagination run away with her like that. Hilda was most likely at home sick or something and it had just been unfortunate timing. For now, she'd watch the tournament and the situation here while resting up for whatever injuries Cicero accumulated this time.

[Spiffy]

Cicero Bladewalker

Rhakkar..So He did make it until the championship. Cicero cracked his neck, "Good. Let's see what he's made of." Cicero's focus zoned in upon the demon-folk. Everything else faded into the background. All the cheers, movement, and uproar of the Colosseum. Right now, the only thing in his conscious mind was the one standing before him.

Once the match began Rhakkar threw steel axes at Cicero. They looked really sharp and Cicero backed into the shadows to bridge some distance between himself and them. At the same time, he raised his shield in Rhakkar's direction. His right arm held the shield while his left clutched his sword. His right twinged in slight pain as he raised it. He couldn't overdo it here as it was still recovering.

Anticipating another charge from the barbarian, Cicero would wait until Rhakkar got within range. Then he would move his shield to deliver a wide arcing slash with his sword to account for any sidestepping movements. He hoped to keep up with the fiend.

[Spiritzer]

The Arena, Before dusk in Alvion, Raining

@Cyrania

Gwyneira's forbearance from letting her curiousity get the better of her led her to paying closer attention to the fight, she would notice if there was any magic used in the duel. For now only the faint outlines of abjuration danced the air on Cicero's shield and Rkhakkar's new axe was runed but with dormant magic that leaked into Cicero's sword whenever they clashed, whichever the case it seemed to have no impact in their duel. Least, for now.

Suddenly, a loud crack like a whip drawn across the heavens rang across the stadium. Large beads of water fell unto contestant and spectator alike. Everyone looked up bewildred by the sudden weather but their hesitation to leave for dryer ground did not last very long, many flocked to the stairs where they could still watch the match but with a roof over their heads - albeit a conpromised view.

Unfortunately for Gwyneira, with her luggage holding her back, the other spectators proved too quick for the opportunity and she would still be a little stranded out in the rain even if she wanted to escape it.

Still it was just rain ...was it? Her studies back at the academy of Hydrosophy taught her vaguely how natural rain should work, even if the whole point of the class was how to make unnatural rain. This was too sudden and the water ...tasted salty? It was harder to see, mere minutes into the fight.

It was then she saw Therian still in his seat, eyes fixated on the match in a daze. His consorts had thinned, not all were as hardy as he was in such weather apparently. If the monarch would not leave then, then maybe - She could stay and no one would think her foolish. The fight was not about to stop for a little bit of rain.

What could she do?

@Spiffy

Cicero's shield wall held fast, axes might scar a helmet but they were no match for a properly forged shield. It's spell held no advantage here but it was still of quality make, that was to be certain and it would not let a lousy throwing axe dent it. Rhakkar's aim became off when Cicero dove towards the shadows, it was clear his eyesight was not used to the contrast between sun and shade.

Then! The weather took a turn for the worst. It was strange. But such was not the time to ponder about matters of climate, with eyes staring down the barbarian, Cicero lifted his shield at the right time, clashing his sword against the barbarian's axe which he used to block it. Cicero's blade bit deep into the axe's edge. The weapons clung to each other oddly for a moment. Rhakkar pulled it free and then struck at the knight's sword as he swung at the weapon once more with more than enough force to disarm him if he did nothing. But the knight's counterattack had shifted the barbarian's center of mass, threatening his balance and keeping him rooted for now. The floor was slick from the silt, even the knight would find trouble in time as the rain poured - for now his armour's weight gave him enough poise to still move with ease.

But this gave Cicero a chance, to the corner of his eye just within reach if he dove to the right lay a fallen axe which he could put to good use as a projectile, if he was willing to temporarily hold his sword in his shield hand. Rhakkar was still finding even ground.

Yet, this was the best opportunity to strike the savage. They had not landed blows on one another yet and this was a fleeting chance, he could maybe even land a second if he could use his other hand. Though this will leave him in range of a counterattack.

What will Cicero do?

Hider note

[Cyrania]

Gwyneira Elfreda

This rain was way too sudden and unusually salty. It was the sort of saltiness that Gwyn connected with sea water, but the city was definitely landlocked and in the middle of meadows. If the city was closer to the ocean, Gwyn would have been on the look-out for falling fish as she'd read about happening in some areas. Instead, Gwyn kept an eye for anything new coming from the rain as well as keeping as much an eye on Cicero as possible and trying to figure out who'd caused the sudden rainstorm. Something like this would require a massive energy expenditure on the caster's part. The most likely person was Cicero's dark stranger, especially with the magical control he'd already shown. Even if it was nothing she currently knew about, it showed a great amount of magical prowess. His motives were completely unknown though. Another possibility was Joshua Frostmay seeking revenge on Cicero and the arena. Ice was definitely connected with water after all. Yet, Frostmay hadn't done anything big like this during his fight. However, something like this would have been an automatic red-flag that there was something screwy going on, so she couldn't discount the possibility that he could do something like this if he wanted to. A third possibility was the dwarf Cicero was currently fighting, Rhakkar. There were probably ways he could exploit a downpour like this against an armored opponent with a more limited range of view and wouldn't be the first fighter Cicero had come across that cheated magically. However, he was not exhausted enough though to have cast a spell of this magnitude and the runes on his axe did not show signs of use. Who else could have caused this storm.

She looked back at the dazed king. Being dazed could mean that the king himself had cast this storm and was now showing his fatigue. Why would he cause a storm though? It sounded like he wanted to be here, watching the fight. Could his dazed state actually have been induced by the rain? She frowned up at the sky. He was higher up and so theoretically, a drugged type of rain would affect him sooner than anyone down below. She would definitely need some protection from the rain in that case, but better than was available now for her from the crowd. She first tested if she could freeze the rain water. If she could, she would freeze the rain water in a canopy over herself that would guard against the rain while still allow her to exit if the rain was truly drugged and she needed to get Cicero out of here. If the water was freezable, it would take less energy from her and the ice structure could be left standing by itself when well-built, making it pretty cost-effective energy wise even if the ice had to be re-frozen after a time.

If not, she'd might just to find a place under one of the benches where she could still see the fight and keep from getting more wet but see little else. Nothing else she had memorized would be useful for making a rain-proof construct. Hard-light constructs were still harder for her to use and took up way more energy than she could afford at the moment.

After she was out of the immediate downpour, Gwyn would wrack her brains for a means to test what the water had in it and its cumulative effect on a person.

[Spiritzer]

Rain formed a canopy over Gwyneira as she tried to freeze it, expending some of her already very drained reserves as she did so, the ale from earlier, the short naps and food did a bit to recover her mental fatigue though. It took a bit more effort than usual, as salt water froze less readily than pure water.

In the middle of the spectator stands stood a white 'tent' of ice with the elf huddled under it, a few of the spectators turned to view this spectacle and a few hushed whispers were thrown amongst them.

'Showoff.' 'Is she the one making it rain?' 'What's she doing?' 'Elves ...expected.' 'Hey, isn't that one of the Healers? Just now...' 'Is that even allowed?' 'She was the one who ousted dear Joshua!!' 'Maybe we should call---' The rest were simply unbothered or did not notice.

It was clear that even though spellcraft was recognized here in Alvion, the Ispari academic's approach to dealing with sleet and rain was less than popular with the locals. Even the other healers huddled with the rest or simply went back to their quarters, no ice tents for them.

Therian remained unfazed by the oddity popping up. He was only left with two guards who were too trying to wipe the water off their eyes yet hold the dignity of seemingly standing at attention. But at least, Gwyneira no longer had salty water stinging her eyes, it was getting harder to see as it is. If she wanted to test if the rain was drugged, now was a peaceful moment to attempt it. However, she did not feel more tired than she knew she already would be. Little more annoyed, maybe.

How does she do it?

@Cyrania

[Spiffy]

Cicero Bladewalker

As the battle raged on, rain began to pour. Cicero thought it strange, but paid it little mind apart from using it as a tactical opportunity. Because he maintained his footing, Cicero was able to use Rhakkar's unbalance to his advantage.

He took a swing across Rhakkar's left shoulder diagonally to cut an arc. Cicero kept his shield hand at the ready for a counterattack all the same. He wanted to press the advantage and yet maintain his defenses. That arm had been seriously injured today after all.

[Cyrania]

Gwyneira Elfreda

There was one sure way that Gwyn knew to see what was in the rainwater. That way was to boil it. If whatever was in the water was something covered in her How to Identify and Treat Different Poisons class and that stupid required How to Identify and Avoid Drugs class (which had interesting info but was insanely anvilicious), she could figure what was in it after seperating the residue from the salt if that salt taste wasn't a natural aspect of the drug. However, in order to boil the water, she'd need something to boil it in, a way to keep a fire going once started, and a way to keep the fire and steam from melting her ice shelter.

While she didn't have any camping gear or a cooking pot with her, she did have a waterskin. She took a last sip, used some of the water to wipe the rainwater from her eyes so she could see better, then dumped the remaining water. She reached out with the waterskin to the extent that it collected water without her getting more wet until it was about half full then pulled it back in. Objective one completed. Now for the other two.

She did have a fire spell, but it would cost more energy than she had to keep it going until the water boiled. Then she had an idea. Ice was created simply by cooling water down until it became ice. Could she warm up water until it boiled without a fire? Or could she create heat without necessarily creating a fire? She held the waterskin out again so that any resulting steam wouldn't melt the ice and concentrated on heating up the water inside until it boiled through the creation of fireless heat. If she was successful, she would examine the residue to see if she could identify it for any known poison or drug. If she wasn't successful, she'd hunt around for trash scraps left in the seats to start a fire with, use a small fire spell to get it started, then see if she identify the residue once it boiled over.