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Eltaka -> RE: =EC 2010= Sky Arena (6/25/2010 8:31:38)
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The peaceful sound of a light breeze rustled the leaves near the arena, sending flies undisturbed for months scattering. For a famous location and even more famous event, the area was rather... malnourished? Filthy? Squalid? Yes, squalid was a good word, Volude decided. He walked closer to the battlefield of elements, the arenas of lore and legend, the temporary campsite hewn from a squalid land, contemplating the excitement that was to come. He wouldn't watch the championships from the crystal balls of magi, or gaze upon the carnage with the masses. This year, he would get a closer look. He had the skill to be invisible. No one would notice the wind riding alongside the fighters as he marvelled at the sheer power of the fighters.
Even more important, he thought, would be the chance of a wind master winning this year. Last year had ended sadly for him, when wind was vanquished yet again. Hopefully this year would be different. He suffered enough pain for his lord already, without needing to be reminded of wind showing weakness at the Elemental Championships.
By now, he was on the fringes of the arena. He saw eight tents near the center, all dedicated to an Elemental Lord. He grimaced in anger when he saw that light had a slightly larger tent than wind. That was his greatest hatred in life, the light fanatics. "We need light to see! We need light to plant things! We need light for everything! Wind brings storms and darkness, light brings peace and life!". Of course, they forgot that wind was the reason they could breathe, that wind allowed plants to live, that if wind brought darkness, wind had more power! One of these days... he would prove that his lord was better than some nightlight.
Volude set up his tent near his fellow wind followers, only a few yards from the wind tent. Being released from the burden of the heavy pack he had hauled to the arena was a great relief. Another light breeze came, energizing and refreshing him. He knew it would be his last bit of relaxation for a while. He could see the merchants weaving through the masses, with slaves and cattle in tow. They would be selling vile food, stale water, healing potions made with their own blood. They lived solely to make a buck off the Elemental Championships. It was an insult to the elemental lords!
His dread for the upcoming pain of wading through the merchants was interrupted by a piercing scream. It cam from inside the wind tent, and caught his attention quickly. With the speed of a practiced woodsman, he dashed inside. Anything was better than running from con-men. Once inside, he saw a man with a spear and a hammer. The hammer was bloody, as was the ground. The look of pain on his face was enough to tell what had happened, even without looking at the grotesque mess that was once a leg. The man had drove the hammer into his calf, hoping to avoid... combat, by the looks of him. But that made him a contestant in the arena, and since he was in this tent, he was likely a fighter for wind. He didn't think twice before he jumped forward and knocked the fool to the ground. He placed a foot on his chest, and shouted at the wounded hypocrite.
"You... traitor! You break a leg to avoid fighting for your lord! You defy your master!"
"I... I can't. I will not die for a lord I cannot see nor hear. I'm not even good at wind magic! Here, take the fighter's token! If you so desperately want to die for wind, go ahead!"
Volude caught the token in one hand, and stalked off. He would be punished for killing someone who was supposed to be a combatant, and if he stayed, that was bound to happen. Bloody traitor... now he was forced to fight, or be ashamed forever. He would not betray his lord like that... he would fight, he would win, or he would die trying.
A sole bead of sweat fell down his face as he approached the arena of sky. A bit of asking around, and he found that it was the only arena in need of a wind contestant. Mages stood at the ready to lift fighters to the spinning mass of stone above. A scribe ran around, assuring the identity of the contestants before they went up. As he reached him, he began to nod at the mages to send him up, then stopped, puzzled. Volude was a stranger to the Championships, after all.
"The other guy dropped out. I'm the replacement."
That was all that was needed. A quick hand signal, and a mage began to call upon the wind to send him rising to the arena. A downpour began, and he quickly decided against his stealth abilities. It would be worthless in this weather, and even the advantage of flight would be destroyed by magic of archery. He would fight without stealth, as much as that unnerved him. Still, it would only make the victory of wind more amazing to win without his greatest skill.
He strung his bow quickly and prepared an arrow for his first shot. He would select a fighter with their back turned, eliminate them before they noticed his presence. As his head rose above the surface of the spiraling vortex of stone, he took aim at the one man in white, white, and more white. He lined his arrow up with the torso of the man in white, and fired.
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