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Ronin Of Dreams -> =Elemental Championships= Spectators Thread (8/13/2007 19:34:09)
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The hour is nearly upon us...
Of the many and varied thoughts flitting through the minds of artisans and magi, this seemed the resplendent chorus guiding their thoughts. Even the Ronin of Dreams was caught be the exuberant thought, the Elemental Champion of the last tournament having been guided by the Unseen to direct the forces of workers and priests in readying the arenas anew for another year of combat. A touch here, a shift there, the work during the year was often far more vast than most competitors would have ever dreamed. And though there was only a single new arena...the others had received a fair share of renovations and maintenance work themselves.
Such was what Ronin's fast pace had brought him to check one final time, and he had chosen to start at the Arena that had received quite the substantial face-lift. The gates to Fountain Arena parted just wide enough to let him slip through to join the plentiful artisans around the base of the former hill. A hill that no longer stood as it did, with the gentle grade bedecked with fountains from the year prior, but rather a revised structure stood fast. It was at once a step pyramid, a set of interlocking circles, and at the same time as gently tiered as a rice paddy. Four cobblestoned paths would, if viewed from above, seem to form a cross on the structure, while vast expanses of each level had been given over to natural elements. Every second step used these expanses for the ornate fountains that gave the Arena its namesake, and the other steps held turf bedecked with small shrubs that would grab at the ankles of the unwary.
Each step was not overly high, and the nine steps in total that the structure possessed gave it a deceptive height that was only about twelve feet high. The top step held a far more ornate fountain structure than the others, however, as this one was bedecked in enough runes to momentarily transmute water into molten fire in its display. Even with such a structure, the top level could accommodate two contestants without too much trouble...though dodging the pyrotechnic display could keep them more occupied than their opponent if they weren't careful. Ah, to no longer be quite so concerned with such trivialities for a time
One of the artisans noticed Ronin and came by to give an impromptu report. “Sir, most of the renovations are complete. We've had a slight issue with overflow on the fountains on the northern side, however, that we are seeing to.”
The former Champion smiled slightly, rather than frowning like most taskmasters. “Oh really? What has this overflow done, exactly?”
“Well, sir, one of the fountains on the eight level seems to have a drain issue, so the cobblestone path on that side has what amounts to a small waterfall. And its starting to get this bottom level damp enough too...”
“That is fine.”
“Excuse me sir?” the artisan half-stammered.
Ronin paused and gestured to the entire arena in response. “This...will do nicely. Besides, I have not doubts some contestants are more than destructively minded, and will wreck much of the beauty of this Arena. Beauty which we will restore again before the next year. If we just let part of it hint at what will more than likely happen, perhaps we will see a better display from the lot of them.”
“I think so, sir.”
He nodded slowly, and gestured to the sky. “Make what last few alterations necessary and bring up the protective field about the stands for Fountain, then make ready for the fights to begin.” Without waiting on a response, Ronin left the artisans in Fountain for the magi and miners deep underground within Cellar. Here there had been more maintenance than alterations, the four thick and solid supports remaining ringed by the heavily magicked and fortified mirrors that would both protect spectators and make contestants extremely wary. The prickling sensation at the back of his neck already signified the enchantment against healing in place on this Arena...the sight of the occasional bloodstain more than memory enough at its deadly nature.
“Many who fight here may never return to the surface, unless they are chosen even in death...” he whispered softly.
“...and in death they gain a glory greater, if so chosen,” came a soft-spoken voice behind him. Turning around, Ronin was met with the smiling visage of the revived Arcadius, an artisan and friend who had fought in his own rights, and brought back as Ronin's boon for becoming Champion. “It is good to see you, Ronin, and I daresay Cellar is as solid as ever a challenge.”
“That is good to hear, young Arcadius. Has the issue regarding the ceiling been addressed?”
“Properly and fully. The bedrock foundation of the Final's Arena has been reinforced, while leaving the ceiling here relatively unaltered save for the fortified supports. When I first saw the written orders for it, I originally questioned your wisdom, Ronin.” Ronin smiled softly, but gestured for Arcadius to continue rather than respond. “Well, all told, I see now how you did not wish to deny certain tactics their effectiveness. Or defy the nature that is the cave this was fashioned from.”
Both men smiled, knowing without speaking the approval on each man's side of the topic. “Well done, Arcadius. After one last check of the Mirrors for the sake of the spectators, pull everyone out of here, preferably without a final testing 'accident'. The healer who inadvertantly was struck last year by a weak lightning bolt still refuses to work this Arena, despite the mage who ran the test apologizing quite profusely, I hear. Must be a sore point to this day, between that husband and wife.”
“I'll do my best, though I have news from Miriallia to spare you the trip. Spike Arena's maintenance was finished yesterday evening, so most of the magi tasked there have been helping finalize your new project.”
Ronin nodded once more, his smile genuine as he left Arcadius to the final tasks in Cellar. The twisting passage from gate to surface gate gave him time to think back on the project. An Arena for the Sky itself...it was not the easiest to craft. Nor figure out how to allow spectators there, but all is well. The idea of hot air balloons for the richer, and a scrying circle for the not so wealthy, seems to satisfy the priests and managers who insist on some turn of coin. And what a sight they alone have been, even without the Arena yet there.
He chuckled as he made his way into the Final's Arena, upon whose sands was a mass of interlocked stones, each the height of a man. There was, he knew rather than saw, a large hole within the center of the configuration as well. Surrounding the massive construct were magi and priests of every element, and of every level of power, each chanting in ancient tongues and weaving motions together with strands of power. The head magi directing the effort barely managed a nod towards Ronin in a manner of greeting, focused on his own part of the ritual as he was. Ronin disregarded it, stepping into the circle of magi to add his own efforts to the project at hand. The stones, after all, still rested on the ground when they should be floating in the sky.
Efforts such as was directed within the center of the main arena were rare enough on the face of Lore, more so do to the cooperation than the nature of power itself. As the stones rose sluggishly to their place far above the arena sands, they began to separate slightly from each other. The ritual had placed a great importance on each stone being individual while remaining a part of the greater whole, levitating the structure so that it would lazily spin under the contention of forces for decades at the least. He knew that many of the spectators who had arrived early must be looking on the effort with a sense of awe, even as it settled into place and the weavers of magic slumped in mixed relief and exhaustion. Ronin even overheard a slight muttering between two such members. “I pity the unfortunate fighter who manages to twist their ankle on the uneven surface. Its one long fall if they are on the edge...”
It was done. The Arenas were readied. It was time to begin...
A robed figure of small stature, garbed in the robes of a tournament official, slowly walked into the teething masses of spectators and competitors alike. “This year's Elemental Championships is now open!” he bellowed to the crowd. “Spectators may take their seating as they choose, and competitors are advised that assignments shall be posted within the hour! Once assigned, competitors should report to their Arena and make ready for the fight!”
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