Spiffy

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Talking to @Gardevoiran & @Xandrya

Mantis listened to this Broker's response stoically. As he ordered a round of drinks for them he raised his hand in protest and replied, "No thanks. We have a job to do. You will have the money by the end of the week." Mantis turned around to face his companions. This guy was..dangerous to say the least. Able to turn off their powers on a whim? Between him and Patriarch he didn't know what was worse. At least Patriarch was blatant about his abilities and made a show of it. It was easier to calculate his threat level. As for the Broker. Mantis glanced back. What was he fully capable of?

Regardless, he had a task ahead of him. The Broker was best left ignored. For now. Mantis contemplated working with another group..but who could they trust even relatively? Then he shook his head making his decision in his head "No. They would do this themselves. They didn't need anyone else interfering. I'm in command, not some mob boss."

Mantis gestured for his teammates to follow him out the door. Once they were some distance away from the bar he asked calmly, "Can any of you contact Whip to join us? We may need her help." He made his way to his car as Axel pressed against the window in anticipation. When Mantis opened the door Axel jumped at Farce and began to lick her. Then he turned to Genevieve and did the same. He liked these people.

Mantis gave him a quick pat on the head and said, "I know where we are going follow me." Anyone who needed a ride was able to get in his car and tag along. Otherwise they would follow him in their own way.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

@Xandrya@Gardevoiran@Old Amsterdam

Hey, want to do a collab about finding The Community lieutenant? I will post a quick one for Mantis to lead the team to his car and they can go from there at Alice's blessing.

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

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.

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

I'm glad you liked it. Cicero can be pure cheese sometimes. We await your post with anticipation.

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

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.

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

Once this chapter is complete, if we accept him, I will begin writing him in the next one.

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

That makes sense thanks for clarifying. So not a sharpshooter, but a close to medium ranged fighter.

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

Hey Sol, does he wear that crossbow for show if hes weak at ranged combat? Just curious.

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

@Sol Grim Cool, we would enjoy having you :) as for black powder stuff I would have to speak with Spiritzer. There is magic of all kinds so it may not be far-fetched to think of black powder.

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

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.