Chewy905
Chromatic ArchKnight of RP
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“Hm, yes, I see…” Miu mumbled, scribbling down a I cannot understand this silly little man in her notes.
Said “silly little man” looked at the reporter for a moment. Then another. Then promptly tapped her on the head with the flat of his fairly ornate sword.
“Ouch!” Miu dropped her journal, a gust of wind quickly sweeping by to keep the precious book from striking the ground. She rubbed at the spot on her head, a mixture of amusement and annoyance swirling through her mind. “I’m, uh, honored? I think?”
The kobold nodded in what she assumed was a gesture of satisfaction and approval. “Windcutter.”
The kobold accepted a single gold piece as payment for the “interview” before skittering off into the crowd, lost between the mass of fancy dresses and tattered pants. Miu sighed, and her personal whirlwind sighed with her; an overly harsh sound that was not unlike a deflating balloon. She had tracked down the kobold on a hunch, hoping he may have a story to share regarding a previous competitor. There had been a surge in cube-related merchandise within Bren this year, and a significant amount of it was coupled with a kobold wielding a sword and shield. There was, of course, no guarantee that said kobold had anything to do with this “Windcutter”, but her sources (if a few reports from small children could be considered “sources” at all) suggested there just might be a connection! With the popularity of a “Cube Cult” growing, and the worship of a kobold as either a harbinger or a slayer of The Cube (she really couldn’t tell which), Miu had expected quite the juicy story! Alas, her only lead had now knighted (or smited) her, and was gone. Perhaps some things were to remain a mystery forever. Perhaps she would find somewhere that could teach her how to speak kobold. Or… whatever that was.
Miu slapped her cheeks lightly, rapidly, eliciting a few confused looks from the passerby as her mind cleared and her storm died down. She plucked her journal and quill from the air as they swept past. One story gone was nothing to worry about; the main event was about to start, after all! She dashed through the crowds, weaving uncomfortably close to a variety of spectators before stopping directly behind where the Paragon of Wind would soon make their appearance. Biased reporting was, of course, frowned upon, but she just had to have a favorite. She never had time to watch the earlier phases of the Elemental Championship’s (she could leave those stories to the writers that needed them), but she’d never miss finals.
Or the pre-show, for that matter.
As the sun locked in place directly overhead and the heat drew sweat to her brow, the criers raised their hands and declared the beginning, as they always did.
Miu found herself unconsciously humming along to the song of the sands as the earthen pillar burst forth and the figure of Ribali, last year’s Earthen Champion, settled upon it. A slight frown crossed the young reporter's lips. Despite her best efforts, she had not been able to find the valiant creature after the event, or even determine what boon the artist had wished for. It had been a distinct gap in her article covering last year’s events. She leaned forwards and examined this year’s paragon instead. Elodie, a servant in name and garb. Miu smiled wryly as she began jotting down her notes.
A maid in the finals! While it is not uncommon for masters to wish to enter their servants to these competitions in lieu of themselves, it was my understanding that the magic of the arena tends to prevent such a situation from playing out to the master's benefit unless the servant is particularly loyal! Even so, such traditional garb is unusual for a battlefield outside of some more distinct tales and books. Perhaps Elodie could star in an article playing up those factors. If she survives this, I may need to pursue an interview-
An ear-splitting roar interrupted her thoughts and her writing. The fiery pillar erupted from the sands and the mousey form of a previous fire champion took his place upon the opal. From the gate strode a ghostly woman possessed of only one arm, carrying a sword far beyond her proportions.
Meng Chiyi, an intriguing name of origin far from here. Nothing about her form screams “Fire Paragon” to me, though the same could be said for Miss Elodie I suppose. Her most notable features would be that weapon and the terribly dreadful state of her cloak. Very imposing. May be winner of this year’s “Contestant I least want to encounter in a dark alleyway” column.
Miu squinted her eyes as the sunlight swelled and the pillar of light burst forth. The champion upon it was unknown to her outside of research; that particular victory had occurred before her time. Perhaps the paragon beneath would replace her, at the end of this all.
Strange, I don’t think I’ve met a mothlike species before. This “Mooth” reminds me of a chilling Azaveyran folktale; an “Unraveler of Souls” whose cries call to one’s dreams and nightmares. Perhaps there is some relation between the two?
Miu shuddered in excitement as the energy pillar’s birth brought her hair on end. Her foot tapped rapidly, and she discharged some of the growing static in her skin to the poor soul next to her as her erratic shaking brushed against him. She was quick to apologize, and quicker still to examine the newest entrant.
Almost the most normal of this year’s crowd so far. Or perhaps any year’s, for that matter. Ezkeraz looks almost like he could be a tad wet around the ears, though obviously that can’t be true of anyone that steps foot on those sands. Though… those cracks on his flesh and armor both are utterly striking, as if the man may tear in half in an instant! Perhaps the editors back home can figure out how to capture that shimmering on paper. That would make for an excellent frontpage image. If he wins, of course.
The breeze caught Miu’s clothes, clanging her windchime earrings around gently and shaking the dreamcatchers upon her belt. Yes. Yes this was it! She whooped out in joy as the wind grew in strength, overpowering her own windstorm and filling her hair (and mouth, with a few joyfully choked coughs) with the red sands. She carelessly tossed her journal and quill into the air, allowing them to ride the currents around the stands until they were carried back to her. Even then, she left them in her own winds’ care, the quill scratching away while she admired wind’s paragon with one hand at her chin and the other forming a faux, useless “magnifying glass” around her eye.
VostaVostaVosta ver Vostadteir! What a name! The Wind Lord chose well, as always. She almost looks to be of the same ilk as Levanna, the previous Champion of Lightning. A rival, perhaps? Maybe something else? There’s a story here, and an excellent one, I can feel it. Real shame that Vosta looks like she’d snap me in half if I tried to ask about it. Still though, maybe that’s worth the risk. Just a bit.
The reporter shivered as the cold chill settled over the crowd. With a smile on her face, she began puffing out breaths of air rapidly, squealing like a delighted child as small clouds formed before her eyes. An towering armored bear that she, painfully, knew very little about settled upon the pillar of ice, and a strange hodgepodge of a paragon slid out from the gates. His appearance elicited some gasps and chatter among the crowd beside her, a mystery she quickly investigated and solved as she began her duty.
Sterling. No further name. My new friends here tell me they were certain he was skating on darkness in the prior stage, so why is he representing Ice in the finals? Perhaps the Lord simply saw no potential in his own lot this year, and sought to snatch a child from their Darker kin. Funny… it’s usually the “dark witches” doing that in the tales, isn’t it? Regardless, it's an interesting predicament. If I get the chance to speak with him, I would love to hear what Sterling thinks of his new patron. I suppose someone desperate enough to enter the Championships in the first place would take what they can get.
The following is scrawled in between two paragraphs. The handwriting is sloppier than the rest, clearly rushed and distressed. It is accompanied by a doodled self-portrait depicting the reporter wearing an overly elaborate, sparkling suit and holding a large sword shaped like a quill. It appears someone was too distracted daydreaming to do their job properly.
Parralia Anita! I’m actually writing this after her introduction; the darkness addled my brain and I completely forgot to take note of the girl’s entrance. What a blunder! She looked simple overall, but I was certain she was hiding some “dark secret”, as you’d expect from a Paragon of Darkness. My instincts were correct, as usual! A particularly painful flash of light replaced the commonplace girl with a princess and a gorgeous axe! Similarly to Elodie, Parralia feels like the type of thing that would be right at home in a book or play. Perhaps I can speak with the two about getting the rights to their likenesses, I can feel a gold mine of potential here!
Miu hid her journal within her jacket as the torrential downpour began. She had yet to find a mage talented enough to make the journal waterproof without also making it inkproof, though if she was honest with herself she was mostly just lazy, and easily distracted. There were so many more interesting things to enchant onto a journal than simple water-resistance, after all! Though the cost to remove the bestial enchantment had been a pricey one, to say nothing of the healing bills. Sentient book with teeth, not the brightest of her ideas. It had been cute, though! And the pictures of it had made that particular edition of the paper sell quite well! She shook away the thoughts of her mishaps (and a large amount of water, much to her the chagrin of her surrounding spectators) and withdrew her journal once more. One last paragon to chronicle!
Bjhonkcioucles. The name was transmitted directly into my brain and I’m still unsure if I spelled that right. I… have no clue what to say about this thing. It’s a goose, hippo, crocodile mix? How did such a creature even sign the paperwork to enter this event? And why do I like it so much!? It’s almost cute! It looks sort of like this ->
Miu finished her (extremely sloppy) doodle of the Paragon of Water, complete with a hastily sketched Ezkeraz being eviscerated, right as the criers declared the start of the Arena’s Judgement. She tossed her journal into the air and leaned as far over the stands as she could.
This year’s Finals would be extravagant, a story to top every other article she’d written before it, and through her words, she’d share this brilliance with everyone.
< Message edited by Chewy905 -- 8/29/2023 19:36:40 >
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