Valkyrie's Page of Wonder

March 10, 2010

Fallen Angel - Midwinter Games, Part 6

Xannon lays in bed with Sarah sleeping peacefully next to him, her head resting on his chest. He gently rubs his fingers across her bare back. He begins thinking about their future together after the war. The life of a simple fisherman kept getting farther and farther away. At this point he would be satisfied if the war would just be over. No more fighting, just peaceful days spent with the woman he loved.
“What I wouldn't give for that...” Xannon whispers.
Sarah stirs and looks up at Xannon.
“Did you say something?” Sarah asks sleepily though half closed eyes.
“Nothing, just thinking of the future.”
Sarah closes her eyes, “A good future, I hope.”
“Very good. A future with you and me without all the fighting.”
“So I guess you won't be entering the tournament in the future?”
“In the future I'm thinking about, no. I wouldn't enter any fighting tournaments.”
“Do you regret entering this one?”
“No. I wanted to join this one. I wanted a chance to prove to everyone that a man is capable of being a High Priest of Bast.”
Sarah looks up at him.
“What? You don't really care about that, do you? To everyone who matters, you have already proven yourself worthy of that. What you want is a chance to prove yourself against Verana. Your incomplete victory in Maerd is what's driving you in this tournament. Deny if you want, but I know you, Xannon. I know what's going on in that head of yours. Sometimes better than you do it seems,”
Xannon thinks about that as Sarah gets out of bed and begins getting dressed.
“Do you think I'll get my chance?” he asks, swinging his legs over the bed and pulling on his pants.
“I do. Both of you are very powerful. I only worry about what will happen once you get your chance. You've only fought her once so there are plenty of tricks she might have that you don't know about. Elven magic is on an entirely different level than what we use.”
“Then I guess we should join Kris and Gatomon at the screens.”
Sarah nods as she finishes getting ready. After Xannon gets ready they leave the room and head to the tournament grounds.



With most elves being disciples of Gaia, the support for Verana, who was a disciple of Kardis, was surprising. Her strength and power on the battlefield was well known and this tournament was a test of that power.
She had already heard of Xannon's success in the Grand Melee and was hoping for a rematch. She prayed for his success in the tournament if only so she could be the one to defeat him, to kill him.
Her first match was over almost before it had started. Mikash Furika, who was fresh out of his elven training, had joined the tournament in hopes of making a name for himself. Using his ties within the tournament, he managed to secure himself a seat. Unfortunately, he was paired against Verana in the first round. He knew of her record and when he learned of their match up he was tempted to forfeit the match. However, forfeiting would bring dishonor upon him and his family.
With the odds heavily in Verana's favor, it was a miracle that Mikash survived as long as he did. However, his inexperience cost him his life when a misstep brought Verana's sword to his neck.
Verana emerges from the temple to the cheers of the gathered spectators. Several priests rush in afterwards to try and help Mikash. She spots Gatomon and Kris by one of the screens and recognizes them from Maerd. As she walks over to them she calls out.
“I see you are doing well after our last encounter. I've also seen that Xannon is doing well. Where is he? Shouldn't he be here learning about his future opponents? Or perhaps he realized his limits and dropped out.”
“Hardly,” Xannon calls out from behind her. “If anything I've learned how limitless true power is. I will succeed in this tournament and I will defeat you.”
“But will you win? Mark my words Priest of Bast, within five years no one will even remember your name. You will be like a firefly, one brief moment of wonder in the infinite expanse of night, lost amidst the countless others. Do well, Xannon. I'd hate to see you lose before I get a chance to face you.”
She turns and leaves before Xannon has a chance to reply. Xannon and Sarah join Gatomon and Kris by the screens.
“I really don't like her,” Xannon states as he takes a seat next to Kris. “How did the first round go?”
“Gilbert Monroe lost to Forrt Ironhammer and Nalthana Naur'ra lost to Pythos Bloodwarden. Meaning you will be facing either Gilbert or Nalthana. The odds are currently in Gilbert's favor based on the first round. The rest of the winners from the first round are Wyntess Sul'luin, Ujarak Stonewarden, Wojceich Deathwhisper, Verana of course, Ilsanith Dinaithil, and Herschie Riverdancer. Opponents you won't have to worry about anymore are Damon Wolfe who had the upper hand against Wyntessa until he tripped into the lava surrounding the stage. And Mikash Furika who lost his head in his battle with Verana. The next round has been scheduled for tomorrow. If everything goes smoothly your first match will be tomorrow night.”
“You said I'll be facing Gilbert or Nalthana, right? What are their styles? Anything I should be on the lookout for?”
“Gilbert is your standard fighter. He did well in the fight, but Forrt's endurance and strength were too much for him. You can either prolong the fight and wear him down or you can push his defense to the limits with constant attacks. He seemed to tire quicker when Forrt kept the pressure on.
“Nalthana will be a much different fight. She will be trying to keep you away as much as possible so she can use her ranged abilities. You'll have the advantage in this fight since your magic is stronger than her arrows. But like I said, the odds are in Gilbert's favor. They don't think Nalthana will be able to keep him at bay.”
“Now that the first round is over, what's to do around here?” Sarah asks.
“There's what amounts to a carnival on the other side of the grounds. They have games with cheap prizes, stores with greasy food, and rides that cost too much. But you're welcome to check them out.”
“Yeah, you make them sound so appealing. Come on, Xannon. Let's go check out the games with cheap prizes!”

March 09, 2010

Fallen Angel - Midwinter Games, Part 5

Xannon, Sarah and Kris sit outside the temple. Sarah concentrates on her healing and refreshment spell while Kris goes over tactics with Xannon.
“These tournament matches are going to be extremely rough for you. You have to give every ounce of energy you have every time. It's the only way you will win.”
“How many years have you been following this tournament?” Xannon asks.
“All my life. My father was really into it as well. I learned everything about it from him. He always wanted me to enter the Tournament or at least the Grand Melee. I tried as hard as I could with the best trainer back home. But he never thought I was ready. After facing you and seeing what you've gone through I can see that he was right. There is no way I could have done what you've done.”
“I wouldn't say that. I'm sure you could have at least come in ahead of Adam. Then you would have had your shot at the tournament itself.”
“Maybe next year then. As long as you're here to cheer me on of course.”
“I'll cheer for you!” Sarah exclaims.
“It's settled then,” Xannon states. “Next year you enter the Grand Melee, and I'll be your trainer.”
“Whoa now, I didn't agree to that.”
“Of course you did,” Sarah says, smiling.
“Fine, but right now it's your turn,” Kris retorts, poking his finger at Xannon. “Are you sure you will be able to handle this? You can still drop out, you know.”
“Hardly. After the cheering I received from winning from the Grand Melee, I'd be a fool not to see this through.”
“All done,” Sarah says as she finishes her spell. “How do you feel now?”
She proceeds to massage Xannon's shoulders and neck.
“Much better, thank you. I didn't realize how stiff my muscles had gotten.”
“I didn't realize how big they had become. Kris here has had you training almost non stop. I didn't get any quality time with you.”
“You'll have your time with him tonight. The first round of the tournament starts in a few minutes and Xannon doesn't fight again till the day after tomorrow. But then its every day till he loses.”
“Or wins,” Sarah adds.
“Yes, or wins. One thing to note is while this is a double elimination tournament those from the Grand Melee will be entering on the losers bracket.”
“In other words, I can only lose once.”
“Correct. Also if you plan on winning, you will have to defeat the winner of the winner's bracket twice in a row.”
“Sounds like fun.”
Xannon reaches up and grabs Sarah's hand. He quickly stands up and pulls her to her feet, spinning her around in the process. Pulling her in close, he gives her a firm hug.
“Thank you, Sarah. I feel much better now.”
“You're welcome.”
“Kris, what time is Verana fighting?”
“Depends on how long the fights in front of her last, but its scheduled for three-thirty.”
“Come get us at three then. I'm not too interested in the rest of the fights.”
“Fine, go enjoy yourselves. I'll let you know if anything interesting happens.”
Xannon and Sarah head into the temple passing Gatomon on her way out. Gatomon watches them for a moment then walks over to Kris.
“They really love each other don't they?” she asks.
“Yeah, it's a little sickening sometimes. You want to watch the tournament with me?”
“Sure.”
Kris and Gatomon being walking toward one of the large outdoor screens.
“Do you have anyone waiting for you back home?” Gatomon asks.
“Not anymore. It's one of the reasons I left to join the temple actually.”
“What happen? Did she fall for someone else?”
“She died. My parents were away on temple business so we were messing around in my room. After we'd worn ourselves out we were laying in my bed when I heard something down stairs. I quickly threw on some clothes and grabbed my sword. Apparently they thought I had gone with my parents, because they weren't making much effort to be quiet. As I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs I practically ran into one of them. He drew his knife and attacked. This spooked the second one so much that he dove out the window. I fought with the first one for a moment when I hear her calling my name from the stairs. He immediately pushed passed me and grabbed her, holding his knife to her throat. He just wanted to escape. I just wanted him to leave. He backed his way to the front door but instead of just making a run for it, he slit her throat, pushed her toward me, then ran out the door.”
“Oh my goddess!” Gatomon gasps.
“My skill wasn't with healing magic, I tried to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing I could do. She died in my arms. She was my first love. I would have given anything to save her. By the time the medics arrived there was nothing they could do. I was so heartbroken that I grabbed what few things I could carry and left. I didn't know where I was going, but Bast guided me to the temple. I signed up for school and the rest is history.”
“So you haven't even seen your parents since that night?”
“They visited the temple once, after they found out where I was. They told me I could come home whenever I wanted, but home still brings back too much pain.”
“Did they ever catch the ones that broke in?”
“No. They didn't have enough evidence to go on and they wore masks so I couldn't identify them even if I tried.”
They reach the screen and take a seat. The first fight is just about to start.
“Did you ever meet someone new? At the temple perhaps?”
“A couple of the priestesses were interested in me, but I haven't quite gotten over her yet.”
“What was her name?”
“Julie. We had grown up together. We knew everything about each other. We were already making plans for the future. To have that all taken away so suddenly was too much. I need something to distract me from my past.”
“You don't think seven years is enough time to move on? You do have to move on eventually.”
“I know. Maybe when this tournament is over you and I could get together. Go out to dinner or something. I feel comfortable around you. I can open up to you without worrying about being judged or laughed at.”
“I'd love to go to dinner with you.”

March 07, 2010

Fallen Angel - Midwinter Games, Part 4

The time for the Grand Melee has arrived. Around the arena each fighter receives last minute tips and warnings from their trainers. Xannon stands inside the arena while Kris yells down from above.
“Remember, if they are bigger than you, they probably hit harder than you, so don't get hit!”
Xannon stifles a laugh.
“I'll see what I can do. Any other sage advice?”
“The pointy end goes in the other man. Seriously though, be careful. They practice for these things all year, you only had two weeks. Also remember what I said about the weapon enchantments?”
“Yeah, what about them?”
“I double checked the rules and it doesn't make any mention about personal enchantments. As long as you don't actually cast a spell, you won't be disqualified.”
“I fell like you are trying to tell me something but your being entirely too vague.”
“I'm also not allowed to give you advice on bending the rules or finding loopholes in them. If you catch my drift.”
Realization dawns on Xannon, “Yes, I do. Thanks.”
The announcer's magically amplified voice drowns out all other talking.
“Welcome to the 203rd annual Midwinter Games. Over the last two centuries we have seen thousands of combatants enter the Grand Melee for a chance at the Champion's Crown. So far, that feat has not been accomplished, but ever year is a new beginning with new faces daring to challenge the status quo.
“Already in the arena are this year's Grand Melee challengers. Starting off the roster is the leader of the Southern Armies himself, General Nathan Emerson!”
Cheers erupt from the crowd as each person's name is listed. The further down the list into the lesser known entrants, the quieter the uproar.
“Another latecomer to the registration, hailing from the Temple of Bast, contestant 46, Priest Xannon Okunen!”
The cheers from the crown were louder than he expected. The tales of his actions in Maerd travel fast. Combined with the knowledge that the elf he fought was in the Tournament, many were cheering for him to get a second shot at her. Most of them were either involved in the battle of Maerd directly or had family and friends who were. Their voices gave him confidence. The announcer's mentioning of the Temple of Bast gave him an idea. He quickly and quietly says a prayer to Bast. A warmth spreads from his amulet and into his chest, giving him a calm and clear understanding of the task at hand. He didn't need to cast any spells, he was a favored of Bast. One of the chosen. While he couldn't count on Penelope's help, he could call on Bast.
“The battle will continue until there are only five of you left. The judges will then grade you based on your performance. In the unlikely event of a tie, a short tie breaking fight will ensue. The top four will then be given the option of entering the Tournament. The first round begins in twenty seconds! Combatants get ready!”
Xannon looks around the arena as the rest of them scout out for their first victim. As the countdown begins, walls being to rise from the arena floor creating a unique fighting environment and allowing for possible escape and deception tactics. Despite the size of the Arena the nearest opponents where still only twenty feet away. To his right stood a young man wearing half plate armor and wielding a massive broadsword. To his left, a dwarf in leather and sporting two daggers checks out his opponents farther down.
The bell chimes and the man to the right comes barreling at Xannon. His sword swings wide and Xannon easily dodges the attack. The face off for a moment, watching each others moves. The man brings his sword up and over in a deadly chopping action. Xannon side steps the attack. In one smooth motion, he steps in and jams his sword between the plates at the armpit. The attacker roars in agony and pain. He switches his weapon to the other hand and swings it around his head once before slicing through the air at Xannon's middle. He jerks back and the blade catches the front of his tunic. He attacks again, this time trying to take out Xannon's legs. Xannon jumps over the attack and readies his sword. When the next attack comes, this time at his head, Xannon deflects the heavy weapon up and away. He uses the momentary break to attack, slicing diagonally across the attackers chest. The half plate blocks the brunt of the attack but causes him to take a half step backward. Xannon follows up with a piercing stab to the stomach. The battered armor buckles and the blade sinks in. He coughs up some blood before stumbling forward a few steps and collapsing to the ground.
Xannon searches for another target. He watches another man finish off his first opponent and turn his eyes on Xannon. The man rushes Xannon and raises his ax. Xannon sidesteps the swing and embeds the pommel of his sword into the side of the mans nose. He stumbles back, his nose broken and bleeding, but remains standing. He begins swinging repeatedly at Xannon forcing him back. Xannon blocks a final attack and slices across the gap. The ax wielder steps back to avoid the attack and brings his weapon in an upward strike. Their weapons clash and Xannon nearly loses his grip on his sword. Gripping his ax tight the attacker swings himself into a whirlwind of sharpened death. Xannon ducks the first swing and rams him in the stomach. They both crash to the ground but Xannon recovers first and punches him in the face, the pain from the already broken nose is too much, causing the man to black out.
Xannon heads for the inner area of the arena to find his next opponent. He rounds a corner and spots two soldiers engaged in combat.
“Do not hesitate!” a voice in his head urges.
He rushes toward the pair and swings his sword low catching them both and sending them sprawling to the ground. A swift kick to the head takes one out of the fight but gives the other time to recover. Xannon dodges his clumsy swing and brings his sword up and across the man''s chest. Blood squirts from the wound as he stumbles backward into a wall. He slumps down and collapses.
A war cry pierces Xannon's ears right before a massive blade comes crashing through the arena walls. A poor victim is pushed through the remains of the wall by Mongo Darkslayer. The massive Katta has the man by his head as he struggles to break free. Mongo casually slings him of to the side where he crashes into a wall. He falls to the ground unmoving. Mongo spots Xannon and brings his broadswords up. Another war cry and Mongo charges. Xannon steps back, watching him carefully.
“Jump!” the voice commands.
He jumps toward Mongo just as he begins a double swing at where Xannon's legs used to be. He brings his sword down hard on Mongo's shoulder, cutting though the metal plate, but barely scratching the flesh. Mongo's elbow hits Xannon dead in the chest, sending him flying backwards, gasping for air. He struggles to catch his breath as Mongo lumbers forward, weapons raised.
“Time to die!”
He swings and Xannon instinctively brings his weapon up to block. The weight and power behind the broadsword snaps his sword in half and knocks the remainder out of his hands. Xannon quickly regains his footing and his breath and deftly dodges the next attack. He spots a fallen soldier's sword laying on the ground across the way. Dodging another attack, Xannon jumps toward Mongo and leaps off his shoulder toward the fallen blade. He lands and picks up the long sword. He turns just in time to see Mongo charging at him with swords forward, ready to skewer him. He brings his sword up and turns sideways to avoid the blades. Mongo crashes into him and they both fall to the ground.
Cheers erupt from the crowd as Xannon realizes that Mongo has stopped breathing. Xannon's blade protrudes from the back of Mongo's next. One of his blades has missed entirely, but the other had caught his chest. A deep wound stretches from one shoulder to the other. Blood pours graciously from his chest. With Mongo's lifeless body nearly crushing him, Xannon struggles desperately to free himself. He looks up and sees General Emerson standing above him, battered and bloodied. His sword still drips fresh blood.
“This isn't how I wanted this to end,” Emerson states. “I was hoping to actually fight you.”
The bell sounds indicating the end of the Grand Melee. Emerson grabs Mongo by the arm and hauls him off to the side.
“You are one dangerous opponent, Xannon. You might want to get someone to help you before you bleed everywhere. I'd hate for you to die before I have a chance to fight you.”
Emerson pulls out a cloth and wipes off his blade before sheathing it and heading back toward the outer wall. Xannon manages to pull himself to his feet and rests against the nearby wall. Sarah and Kris appear around a corner and immediately rush over. Sarah begins healing his wounds while trying not to cry. Kris looks over at the fallen Mongo, who has two priests trying desperately to heal and revive him.
“That was amazing, Xannon. Once I saw big boy here crash through the wall, I was almost certain you were done for, no offense.”
“None taken. I wasn't too sure about my chances either.”
Xannon flexes his hands, still numb from the shattering impact.
“He hits hard.”
“Would the survivors of the Grand Melee please come to the west wall as soon as you are able,” the announcer orders.
“Give me a few more moments,” Sarah says. “Just want to make sure you won't bust open. I'll give you a full healing after their ceremonies.”
“Thank you.”
After Sarah finishes, she and Kris walk Xannon over to the west wall. A small platform had been raised and General Emerson, Priest Wagnard, Captain Cross and Adam Lightwalker were waiting near a set of stairs.
“Now that everyone is here we can begin. In fifth place, surviving the melee but not winning a chance at the tournament, Captain Robert Cross!”
Captain Cross sighs, but marches up the stairs to the cheers and praises of the crowd.
“In fourth place, with three wins, Adam Lightwalker!”
Adam proceeds to the platform and waves to the crowd.
“In third place, with four combatants down, Priest Wagnard of the Temple of Kardis!”
He heads up the stairs and is greeted by a mix of cheering and booing.
“Please, people. Refrain from negative displays, everyone is welcome here. Coming in second with five victories, General Nathan Emerson!”
Emerson smiles and turns to Xannon.
“You did an amazing job out there, boy. Don't let me down when you face me in the tournament.”
They shake hands and Emerson heads up to the platform.
“And finally of course, your first place winner, with five amazing notches on his belt, a newcomer to the tournament but no stranger to your hearts, Priest Xannon Okunen of the Temple of Bast!”
Xannon stands there stunned for a moment before Kris pushes him toward the platform. Cheers erupt from around the arena as Xannon ascends the steps. Applause echoes in Xannon's head. He looks around in awe as everyone begins chanting his name. He proceeds to the center of the stage, shaking hands with the other winners as he goes.
“Congratulations, Xannon! Now that you've won the Grand Melee, do you plan on bringing you exceptional fighting skills to the Midwinter Tournament?” the announcer asks.
“Absolutely. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”

February 11, 2010

Fallen Angel - Midwinter Games, Part 3

The bar is loud and packed with spectators. The floor is sticky from untold gallons of spilled beer and other substances.
“This seems like a happy place,” Xannon states. “Can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to come here.”
Kris laughs as they approach the bartender. He orders two beers and hands one to Xannon.
“I assume you drink beer,” he asks.
“On occasion, yes,” Xannon replies taking the beverage. “See anyone you recognize?”
“Not yet, but there are a lot of people. Also, I'm used to seeing them in full armor. I might not be able to recognize them without it.”
Kris carefully looks around the room and directs Xannon's attention to one of the booths.
“That huge katta there should be Mongo Darkslayer. Knows just enough magic to be dangerous, but his real skill lies in his strength and his two two-handed broadswords.”
“Wait, you mean he can uses a two-hander with one hand?”
“Exactly.”
“That's going to be tough. Guess I better work on my dodging. Trying to parry that could break something.”
Kris again points out another patron.
“That is Captain Robert Cross of the Gaia City SDF. Not what I would call strong or fast, but very very smart. He is an excellent tactician. If he doesn't come after you first, it's because he doesn't see you as the greatest threat. He will go after the opponents that require the most effort first, and then mob up the stragglers later. You are new to the arena and are therefore unknown to him yet. I would recommend trying to avoid him at first. Let him wear himself down a little on the stronger opponents, like Mongo over there. If you can maintain your stamina, you will be better prepared for when you do face him. However, if he does target you first, be ready for anything.”
“Anything special I should know about the Mage Knights?”
“One thing to know is that while using magic will get your disqualified, having an enchanted weapon will not, assuming that the enchant is passive. In other words, no swords that shoot fireballs. But swords that are naturally on fire, or that cause a freezing effect when struck are allowed. You can expect those mostly from the Mage Knights. Some of the others may have enchanted weapons. You might think about having something done to yours soon.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
The front door open and a man enters that immediately draws the attention of the entire bar. Several of the patrons salute, including Caption Cross. As the bar returns to normal, he walks over to where Kris and Xannon and sitting and extends his hand.
“You must be Xannon Okunen. I saw you two fight the other day, and I must say, I am impressed. I am actually surprised your friend here did not join as well.”
Xannon shakes the offered hand.
“He doesn't feel the need to prove himself like I do.”
The man's face twitches once before continuing.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am General Nathan Emerson, commander of the Southern Army. I hear you were the one that had it out with the elf girl back in Maerd. I am relieved to see you are no worse for wear. Elves are a tricky bunch. If you do not watch them carefully, they are likely to use their racial magic to quickly turn the tables on you. Would you two care to join me at a table? I would rather talk with you than be coddled by a bunch of army trainees.”
General Emerson leads them both to an empty table on the far wall. He calls a waitress over and orders a tall mug of Dwarven Dragon's Ale.
“I drank that once,” Xannon comments.
“Oh? Did you like it?”
“It tasted good, but it burned all the way down and all the way out. Not a very pleasant experience if you ask me.”
“I admit, it does tingle a little. But once you have gotten used to the taste, it is the best drink in the world. It is sad that very few places will carry it.”
“I've noticed you don't use contractions. Is that a personal choice or something you were taught growing up?”
Emerson's face twitches again.
“It is both. I was taught growing up to be clear and concise. Contractions are what I would call muddy. They cram two words together in an effort to make them easier to say, but in doing so can obfuscate the meaning or understanding. 'It is' for example becomes 'it's'. But then it is now possible to confuse it with its, which is possessive, or its, which is pural, or its', which is both. 'I have' becomes 'i've' which sounds very similar to hive, jive, live, and so on. Eliminating contractions from my daily speaking causes my meanings to not get misunderstood or misinterpreted. Am I required to do this? No, it is my personal choice.”
The waitress returns with the General's Ale.
“Ah, thank you, my dear.”
He takes a long drink of the ale before setting it back on the table.
“So, how has life been treating you?”

After a brief conversation with the general, Xannon and Kris excuse themselves and return to the temple.
“Get some rest, Xannon,” Kris orders. “You're going to need it for your training tomorrow.”
“You make it sound so serious.”
“I just want to make sure my friend doesn't screw up and get himself killed. If anyone is going to kill you, it's going to be me. And let's face it, if I can kill you, you probably weren't ready for the Grand Melee, anyway.”
“Good point. Guess I'll see you in the morning then.”
“Sleep well!” Kris calls out as he heads for his room.
Xannon returns to his quarters and finds Sarah already asleep. He quietly changes and slips into bed, careful not to disturb her. He lays there silently for several moments thinking about the days events and his training with Kris.
“This is going to be a lot tougher than I first thought.”
He closes his eyes and within minutes is fast sleep.



A loud banging startles Xannon from his sleep. The sun hadn't risen yet so he quickly grabs the nearby knife and slips out of bed. The banging sounds again from the door and he cautiously reaches for the handle. With out quick motion he flings the door open, ready to take on his assailant.
“Oh good, you're up. Ready to begin your training?” Kris asks, nonchalantly.
“Geeze, man. You almost got yourself killed you realize.”
“I doubt it. Anyway, get dressed and meet me outside in five.”
Kris turns and heads back down the hallway toward the exit. Xannon rests against the door frame as Sarah walks up.
“What was all that banging? Was someone trying to break in?” she asks.
“No, it was just Kris with my morning wake up call.”
“Oh,” she replies, yawning. “Well you boys go play your games, I'm going back to bed.”

The next two weeks were pretty much the same. Every morning Kris would come to bang on the door. Some days Xannon was already ready, others he was woken out of a deep sleep and met Kris at the door with his knife. Regardless of how the morning started, it always ran the same way, calisthenics, swordsmanship, and counter magic training. By noon, Xannon was worn out both mentally and physically. Most days the training ended there, but there were some where Kris felt that Xannon wasn't trying hard enough and put him through another round of training in the early afternoon.
With only two days till the Grand Melee, Xannon was as prepared as he was going to get. Kris had made sure of that.
“How did you get to be such a hard ass trainer? I don't remember you being a trainer of any kind before you joined us.”
“Remember how I mentioned that back home I was the only one who really stood a chance against Janus? Well, I was also the one trying to teach the rest of the village how to counter it. So I have plenty of practice teaching people fighting skills.”
“Well, you are doing a pretty darn good job. Let's just hope it pays off in the next couple of days.”
Xannon sits down on one of the benches next to where they had been practicing. He stretches his tired muscles and stares at the sky.
“How people are going to be fighting in the Grand Melee again?”
“The maximum allowed into the Grand Melee is fifty and they hit that mark shortly after you submitted your entry. Your number 46, remember that because they will be calling you by your number.”
Registration for the Grand Melee was full every year, some years they had registered their fiftieth the same day they opened. The top four of the last five combatants standing were allowed a spot in the Midwinter Tournament, a one-on-one competition that pitted them against one another in various environments. They enter the magic room of the nearby temple and the action is displayed in real time on several outdoor screens. All safety mechanisms inherent in the magic room are disabled for the competition.
Over the past several years, the generated locations for the tournament have included a high plateau overlooking a raging river, a barge on a river of lava, a boat in the middle of the ocean surrounded by sharks, and a canyon in the middle of a earthquake. The operators of the tournament will shut down the environment once a winner is decided. There has, however, been deaths, either due to the environment or the combat itself.
There are no restrictions in the Midwinter Tournament. Only the best choose to enter and they do so knowing all possible outcomes. Those that survive the Grand Melee are not required to enter, and in the past very few have chosen to do so. Those that did were usually knocked out in the first round. So far, none of those that entered from the Grand Melee have been crowned Tournament Champion.
“By the way, are you planning on joining the Tournament if you win?”
“Haven't thought much about it, actually,” Xannon responds. “I'm more worried about the first part at the moment.”
He stands up and readies his weapon against Kris.
“Anyone participating in the tournament that I would know?”
“I only saw one name I thought you would know. Verana mia Sotanden D'Lefin.”
“That's that elf girl I fought in Maerd, isn't it?”
“Yes. She already has a solid record in this tournament and the odds are heavily in her favor. She's deadly. Half of her challengers didn't make it back this year. Half of those didn't make it out of the magic room. You realize it was luck that kept you alive back there, right?”
“The thought has occurred to me, but I don't believe in luck. She may have left the fight early, but luck had nothing to do with it. I could see it in her eyes, she was scared. She'll never admit it of course, but she was. Eyes don't lie.”
“Whatever keeps you going. Now focus on the training at hand. You need to be top shape if you expect to survive in the Grand Melee.”
“Don't I get any break before the competition?”
Kris thinks about that for a moment.
“No.”

February 09, 2010

Fallen Angel - Midwinter Games, Part 2

Xannon and Sarah sit in one of the restaurants early the next day. Kris sits across from them with a strong cup of coffee.
“Gatomon told me last night that there are several mage knights signed up for the Grand Melee as well as a Priest of Kardis. While using magic will disqualify you, getting hit by it will probably knock you out as well. I know a little about how to defend against magic without using it but I've never been skilled enough to try. You, however, I think are skilled enough. You proved that with the magic display at graduation.”
Kris takes a long drink before continuing.
“There are three basic techniques to countering a magic attack. All of them are difficult and require great skill and timing. The first one is called Spell Disruption and is the least difficult. It works just like it sounds and involves messing with the spell the other person is casting rendering it useless. The next technique is called Spell Manipulation and, when successful, results in the other person casting a spell different from what they originally intended. The final technique is called Spell Stealing. This one requires the most skill, is the most difficult and requires near perfect timing. It is extremely rare to find someone who can pull this off even under the best conditions.”
Kris pulls out a piece of paper and a pencil and draws three boxes to help illustrate the techniques.
“Imagine casting a spell is like painting a picture. Gathering the energy is like getting the paints, preparing the spell is like applying the paint to the canvas, and actually casting the spell is like hanging the finished painting on the wall.”
He points to the first box.
“Spell Disruption would be when the other person is gathering paint and you swap out his colors or when he is brushing on the paint and you smear random colors all over the canvas. Whatever results will not be a valid spell and will most likely fail.”
He begins drawing a stick figure then scribbles it out.
“Like so.”
He points to the next box.
“Spell Manipulation is when the other person is painting and you are next to them painting on the same canvas with little changes here and there you turn their original plan into something different but functional.”
He starts drawing another stick figure but changes mid drawing and ends up with a dog.
“They cast that spell instead of what they originally intended. How much you can manipulate it depends on what the original spell was. It has to stay within the same class of magic. So no turning fireballs into healing spells.”
He points to the final box.
“Spell Stealing then, is when they are finished with the painting and right before they hang it on the wall, you steal the painting and hang it on your own wall. It is the most difficult technique because you have to do it between the time the spell is ready and when they actually cast it. A time frame of mere fractions of a second. It also requires, as they name entails, actually stealing the spell. Within that fraction of a second you have to gather or steal all the energy used in their spell and you have to keep it intact. Take too long and the spell is cast, start too early and the spell could either dissipate on its way over or release its built up energy in a raw explosion right in your face. I've seen it happen. Raw magic explosions are not pretty. Taking that much built up power takes a great deal of concentration and skill with dealing with magic. Also, this final technique could be considered by the judges as using magic and cause you to be disqualified. There are no rules when it comes to these. Your best bets are the first two options. If you do happen to succeed with the Spell Stealing during the Grand Melee, your best bet would be to try and uncast the spell.”
Kris draws a stick figure in the last box then rips the box off the paper.
“To make things even harder for you, most skilled magic users, like the ones you will be facing, can detect when their spells are being messed with and will either cancel the casting entirely or attempt to engage you in a painting contest, to continue the analogy. They will try and finish their painting and hang it before you have a chance to mess it up enough to have it fail.”
Sarah looks at the boxes on the paper.
“Sounds difficult alright. Have you actually seen any of these techniques done successfully?”
“There was a guy who came to my hometown every couple of years and held a competition to see who could actually hit him with a spell. Five dollars to try, five hundred if you succeeded. He was a master of Spell Disruption. Most people couldn't even get their spells cast. I was one of the few who could keep up with the disruptions but the spells I ended up casting were not what I started with. For example, I tried casting a Fireball one time, fought through the disruptions and ended up casting a Firewall. The changes to my spell were subtle so it felt correct but it never was. I never saw him succeed with a Spell Steal but that doesn't mean he couldn't.”
“Any idea where he is now?” Xannon asks.
“No, but his name is Janus. If you ever come across him, be prepared for anything.”
“I'll keep that in mind. Shall we go practice these techniques?”
“We can try.”



“Okay, first we are going to try the Spell Disruption. I will take an extra long time to cast giving you plenty of time to practice.”
Kris slowly begins gathering the energy for a low power Fire Dart spell.
“Can you feel the energy from the spell?” Kris asks.
Xannon concentrates for a moment before replying.
“Barely, the distance seems to be a limiting factor. The more power you build up the easier it is to feel.”
Xannon uses his skill in the magic arts to mentally reach out and observe the structure of the spell. The intricate magical matrix of the spell controls everything about the spell like a blueprint. Once complete the matrix acts as a magical storage device. The more magic stored in the matrix, the more powerful the spell.
The Fire Dart matrix was relatively simple and the holes in the matrix would start to leak magic if too much was trying to be stored.
Xannon plucks at a few of the strings connecting the matrix and it starts to vibrate. A few more strings and the matrix collapses sending the stored energy back into the environment.
“Fairly simple concept, right?” Kris asks. “Now let's try again. This time I will be actively trying to counter you.”
Kris begins casting another Fire Dart and Xannon again concentrates on the spell. He watches the matrix start to form and begins cutting the strings. As he cuts more, the first ones begin to reform as Kris begins countering the Spell Disruption. Xannon starts going faster but the faster he goes, the faster Kris counters. He quickly learns to cut the main supporting strings which cascade around the rest of the matrix taking several other strings with them. The main strings come back quicker but with the cascade effect, Xannon is able to successfully disrupt the spell with a few more well placed cuts.
“Excellent. You are a quick learner, aren't you? I highly recommend studying the spell matrices especially their weak points. You could even try disrupting your own spells to see the effects. Ready to try Spell Manipulation?”
“Ready as I'll ever be,” Xannon replies.
Kris once again casts a simple Fire Dart spell. As he casts it, Xannon begins adding and removing strings to create a different matrix. He is half way to converting the spell into a Flame Eruption when his changes begin to revert themselves back to the original design. He starts again, this time remembering Janus' subtle changes. He notices that the fixes Kris makes aren't exactly where they were originally. With repeated cuts to the same strings, they shift just enough to alter the spells properties. Xannon waits till the spell is just about finished then quickly adds the remaining strings, successfully changing the spell to a Flame Eruption.
The spell goes off and erupts right in Kris' face sending him stumbling backwards to avoid being burnt.
“Holy crap! Are you trying to kill me? I figured you would follow my example and convert it into a Firewall or something, not a spire of fiery death.”
“I felt keeping it an offensive spell would be less noticeable. Apparently it worked.”
Kris gets up and dusts himself off.
“You feel like trying Spell Stealing?”
“Might as well give it a shot.”
“Okay. Now remember, you want to wait till the spell is finished before trying to steal it. Skilled magic users who are aware of the possibility of having their spells stolen will sometimes purposely leave the matrix unfinished to prevent a successful steal until the last minute. Unskilled or unaware users will finish the matrix first and then commence to charge the spell, giving you plenty of time to steal it. I will demonstrate the second method to give you plenty of time. Also remember, normally you would build your own matrix and add in the magic from around or inside you. When spell stealing you have gather the magic energy directly from your opponent’s spell as fast as possible. It will be difficult due to the distance issues, but since I'm making this as easy as possible for you, you should be able to get it right.”
He casts another Fire Dart and Xannon mentally watches the spell. Once the matrix is complete, he begins to siphon the power the gradual loss of energy destabilizes the spell and it collapses.
“Faster. As you can see if you go too slow the spell dies in transit. Again!”
Xannon again watches the Fire Dart form. When the spell is complete, he summons the energy from the spell and the matrix is pulled across the space between them. Unable to grab all the energy the matrix stretches and breaks, sending the energy free.
“Make sure you get it all, leaving some behind will distort and destroy the spell matrix. Again!”
He watches the spell form once again and using all his will grabs the complete spell. It arrives in his control intact and undamaged. He quickly casts it back at Kris who dodges out of the way.
“Very good! You are now the second person I've seen to accomplish that task. But remember, if you cast your stolen spell in the Grand Melee, you will be disqualified. Have you ever tried to uncast a spell?” Kris asks.
Xannon shakes his head, “Never had a reason to.”
“It's not as easy as it sounds. Once the spell is in that state, its usually pretty stable. You can't just let it go. An uncontrolled spell could careen off into the crowd, or blow up in your face. You will have to use the skills from the previous tricks to unmake the spell in your possession while simultaneously drawing its power out of the spell. You can either release the energy back into the world, which is the easiest, or try and store it in yourself, which is faster. Also, depending on your situation, you could use that stored energy to quickly cast another spell if things go bad.
“Enough of that for today though. Let's go get a drink at the local bar. We might be able to meet some of the other combatants.”
Xannon turns to Sarah who had been patiently watching the proceedings from the sidelines. Amazed at the many different things you could do with magic.
“Did you want to go with us?” Xannon asks.
“No, thanks. Bars aren't my thing. I prefer the cafes. I'll see you tonight. Try not to get into any fights, you need to be in top shape for the tournament.”
“I'll do what I can.”
Xannon and Kris head off toward the city, while Sarah returns to the temple.