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A large wooden stage in front of Heidman's manor was built into tip top shape. The wood felt soft under one's feet and was long enough as well as wide enough for moving space. Decently far away from this stood the audience piled up to see the very first event of the day. This would be a show that would be engraved of the minds of those witnessing this.

The rules were standard. Anything goes! Just as long as the spells don't kill the opponent. For extra protection hooded figures under Heidman's watchful eye would protect the fighters with powerful protective spells. After the gladiator's duels' fiasco, safety measures were up.

Four countries would face one another in this and the audience was psyched up. The announcer was a man in a brown robe and a long beard."Long have mages and wizards harnessed the power of magic." He began."It takes a brilliant mind to adapt these spells for use in combat, but it takes an even greater mind to stay calm when your opponent is flinging the elements at you. Today we will find out who are the Expanse's greatest battlemages!" The audience cheered as from Heidman's manor the flag rolled down of who was to fight who.

Vothyl Syl vs Terel'Liren

The ruins vs Ahn'Kahet
Archer strode over to stage. He was prepared, ready to get on with it. A few Shadows appeared next to him and gave him encouragement. The Shadow that he would use in the match was the best fighter he knew. "Oliver, we got this." he said to the Shadow, who nodded. Turning to the announcer, he asked "So, who goes first?"
Minerva stood up from the crowd of golden masks. Visually, behind her blue robes, and golden armor, she was nearly identical to all the other representatives of Vothyl Syl. She was the Worcruz chosen for this. For the pale blue people of Vothyl Syl, Worcruz was a title of magic, one that showed that the user had great skill in magic. The sea of gold and blue parted, and Minerva stood forward. Previously, to combat the heat that her usually cold-living people were not used to, she used a single charm, one that kept her relatively cool. An elderly representative reached out, touching Minerva's plated shoulder.

"Do well."

Minerva nodded to the words, that of which, to anyone that was not from Vothyl Syl, would sound like a strange, warped foreign language.
Just coming from the festival grounds was the champion and representative of Ahn'kahet. The male was unmistakably canine in species, the tail, muzzle and fur all pointed towards wolf as the sub species. He walked with a dark grace and confidence, knowing full well what he was capable of. He took a quick moment to consult one of the hooded figures on the side.

The canine spoke the same statement in a multitude of languages, starting with the most obscure to the most common. He started with Kalimag, then draconian, then Aquatalan. If there was any sign of recognition from either of the hooded figures he would stop and wait for a respons, if not he would continue his barrage of speech. After the initial three he moved to elven and dwarven, even the guttural toned goblin before finally settling on common. His query was a simple "Is near death or maiming allowed? "
Nariel mounted the stage quietly, a small smile on her face as she went to stand with the other magi. She was wearing flowing robes of the same forest green hue as her eyes decorated with High Terelain glyphs, the flowing cursive script is kind of similar to a cross between Arabic and Devanagari (an Indian script used for Sanskrit).

She was very good at examining those with her without letting them notice she was doing it. Her opponent was one of the far northerners, the Vothyl Syl. The obvious route for defeating them was heat, but since they were a previously unknown race she did not know their tolerances well and she did not want to accidentally bring harm upon her opponent. Besides, they had probably taken precautions against such an obvious tactic. It would be a brute-force method of winning, far too inelegant for this tournament.

She was not the most skilled or knowledgeable of the Terelain magi here today but she was the most powerful. Her magical education was nearly complete anyway, she only needed to undergo the last Trial before she would be proclaimed a full-fledged Magus of the Silver Tower. It would be unfortunate that her future duties as Duchess Amaar would prevent her from attaining the title of Archmagus, at least until she retire in a few centuries or so.
((We'll basically go the same way as we did all duels. Everyone does their fight at the same time and we pretend in the time line one duel came after the other.))

The hooded figures would not answer champion. Instead with wooden motions like that of a doll on strings they turned to the canine, examined him and turned back around with no sound. The announcer was the one who answered for the hooded figures."No, you may not. We know of your customs, sir. But here on the festival grounds we celebrate life, not death. You will have a clean fight or none at all. I hope I am making myself clear." He spoke sternly. Clearly he knew of the people of Ahn'kahet and he had little love for them. However, some Hobgoblins didn't share that motion."Maim the shadow!" One of them called."Take off his limbs, Deadman! Make him bleed!" The announcer, however, quickly hushed them.

"Yes, you may start." The announcer spoke to Archer."Just don't attempt any tomfoolery. Lord Heidman is already displeased with your actions. I'm not sure you'll be welcome here if you misbehave once more."
(Okay.)

Archer studied his opponent, trying to see if he could find any weak points. Turning back to the announcer, he put his hands up. "I don't know what you're talking about." he said. "If you're talking about the beast, then did you people not hear it say that it didn't want this?" He let out a breath. "Whatever. Let's just get on with this." He walked up to the middle of the stage to await his opponent. "Just know, you most likely won't win this." he said, to everyone actually. "But this won't be fun if I don't let you have a chance, now would it?" He gave a half-smirk.
The canine nodded his understanding to the announcer, and took his place up on the stage. He chuckled and gave a little nod towards the hobgoblins, noting their lust for violence to be used at a later date. Upon taking the stage the wolven male discarded his heavier black cloak to reveal the clothing he wore underneath. The "Deadman" as the hobgoblins had nicknamed him was wearing what would in other areas be known as a trenchcoat, the only difference being that the wolves chest was entirely exposed to whatever his foe may possibly throw at him. His leggings seemed to be made from a supple leather, although there seemed to be hard ridges underlining the fabric. The undead canine threw his arms out to both sides, letting the crowd get a good look at him, not hiding anything. Over his right shoulder was a hilt of a sword, and if one looked closely they would be able to spot the scarlet marking running down the left side of his face and chest.

"You are rather amusing, thinking that you could even possibly have a chance of beating one who is already dead. You are a joke, sitting in the corner and speaking with shadows because nobody else deems you worthy of their time." The wolf sneered, obviously enjoying mocking the other combatant. Internally he actually respected his opponent for this match, he was simply trying to throw him off his game.
Archer watched as his opponent made his little show. "Dead or not, I'm still going to win." he said. "And next time you try to mock someone, have the correct facts first. I prefer to be antisocial." He started to slowly walk towards his opponent. "Now, who are you to think that even the dead can defeat shadows?"
Minerva got on the boarding stage, her hands empty, the crowd of representatives behind her in silence. "Let this be a good match." She said to her opponent, Nariel. She knew little of her Kingdom, but she did not have much time yet. The previous day was mostly them getting used to, and adapting to the heat. The female gave a small bow, showing respect to her opponent. This was a competition, and the need for disrespect among it was unnecessary.
The canine made a sweeping bow in the direction of his opponent, grinning almost literally from ear to ear. "I am Grey, deathlord of Ahn'Kahet, and who might you be, antisocial as you are?" After bowing the canine returned to his normal standing position, tucking his hands into his pockets. Although his face remained passive and devoid of emotion save for the grin, the canine was so far calculating every possible move he could make against the human. Unfortunately most of his magical repertoire was going to be nigh useless, thanks to that pesky 'No death and no serious injury rule.'
Archer continued his slow walk towards Grey. "My name is Archer. Full human." he said. He was now a few feet away. He stood still. "So, which of us will make the first move?" he asked. "Well, first offensive move. I already made the first move."
"I'll keep that in mind, Archer Full Human. Now, I would suggest you submit before you are naught but a soulless husk." The canine slipped his hands out of his pockets and curled them into fists. Around his right hand a light blue glow started to emanate, and a sickly green light started to shine from his left hand. The scarlet markings on his face and chest also began to glow, almost giving his opponent as to what could be happening next. The area around Grey began to decrease in temperature, slowly adjusting the temperature around him to nearly -20 Celsius within seconds. Frost would begin to spread out from the canines feet, the frost had an odd greenish tinge to it, a green mist hanging above the frost.

Grey did not seem bothered at all from the frost spreading out from his feet, and even seemed to relax when in it's presence. He even started to slouch slightly, even smiling. "Well, self proclaimed 'Shadow Walker' How will you fare against Blood, Frost and Plague?
Archer watched as Grey used his magic. "So, Blood, Frost, and Plague. Interesting." he said. "Not sure what Blood does, but Frost and Plague won't do much." He reached down his robes and pulled up a cloth over his mouth and nose. The next instant, he was face to face with Grey. "Boo." He then disappeared, reappearing a few feet behind Grey and holding a bow. He quickly shot an arrow at Grey. If the arrow were to hit, it would actually pass right through him with no wounds, only a slight numbness. "Don't worry guys, I'm not here to kill." he said, reassuring the crowd.
The peculiar thing about the plague itself was the fact that it didn't need to enter the body through any open orifice. The plague, with the archer foolishly appearing in front of the canine would have come into contact with the plague beneath his feet. The plague, known as Blight in the lupines country, had a very... Odd and rather morbid effect on the living. The full strain of the plague would quite literally eat the brain of it's host, leaving the body entirely intact for layer reanimation. However, thanks to the pesky rule of no deaths or serious injury, this plague would simply attack the nervous system, the intent being to leave the victim unable to control his or her body.

The arrow would pass through Grey and he wouldn't even react. His entire body was numb, the nerves inside his body were all dead, leaving him incapable of physical feeling. The canine looked a little surprised as the arrow passed through him, but not in a negative way. "So you possess ethereal arrows eh? Adorable. "
Archer seemed intrigued that Grey didn't react. "In a way I guess. My bow can turn into any kind of bow, including a ballista, and it makes its own arrows." he said. "And I think I know why they call you Deadman." He then stood up straight. "Hey, is hand to hand combat allowed?" he asked the announcer. "Because to be honest, that's about all my magic helps with."
Without even waiting for the announcer to answer the question the canine would snap the fingers on his right hand. The frost around his feet pulsed for a moment before rapidly expanding then shooting out in all directions. The tips of the extended ice even shattered and launched outward, likely sending a barrage of lethal spikes around the arena.

The plague which had come into contact with the Archer's boot had now worked it's way through the material said boot was made from, beginning to burrow it's way into the males flesh and entering the bloodstream.

The canine leaned his head forward to whisper into the Archer's ear, nearly gloating. "I would suggest surrender while you still are capable of speech Archer, lest you wish to become another puppet of flesh, with no one even knowing. "
Archer swiftly dodged all the ice spikes that flew towards him. Then, when Grey whispered in his ear, he chuckled. "Poison doesn't work on Shadows." he said. Suddenly, his form wavered, and it was revealed that Grey was talking to a Shadow, Oliver to be exact. Oliver gave a little wave before Grey would feel a tap on his shoulder. Regardless of whether or not he turned around, he would get punched in the face hard by Archer. Archer would then jump back before Grey could counter. "The Shadows can take the form of any that give them permission." he said. "But it's not perfect. Well, it is unless you know what to look for that is."
Nariel smiled and returned the Vothyl Syl woman's bow with a deep one of her own, "Il eya, I agree. I hope that you fight well, for I shall hold little back in displaying my power before this crowd," once she straightened she held out her hand and with a soft thump of displaced air her bladestaff appeared in her hand. It was a graceful weapon, a wooden shaft decorated with High Terelain glyphs and the crest of the Ancient and Noble House of Amaar; a tower with outstretched wings flaring to either side of it reminiscent of a falcon's wings, the tower surmounted by a crown. Flowing out of the wood of the shaft, with no seam or join as if the wood and metal were fused together, were two crescent shaped blades, the edges dulled in preparation for a friendly bout.

Nariel took the bladestaff in both hands and held it before her, "Forgive the weapon, I prefer to have a focus when using my magic. My power is... significant. I have trained most of my life to restrain it. A focus makes it somewhat easier to control."

Unless her opponent said anything more, Nariel would open their bout by thrusting her bladestaff forward. A silver bolt of light shot from the weapon, aimed squarely for Minerva's chest. It was a basic attack, Nariel seemed to be simply probing her defences at first...
(Those spikes went in every possible direction and moved outward. How could you have simply dodged all of them?)
"'Tis a good thing it is not a poison then. I am beginning to grow weary of this charade." As soon as the canine was tapped on the shoulder The plague would have reached around the Archers head, and were currently working on entering the brain itself. Thanks to the plague being magical in nature a species natural resistances would do little to nothing against Blight. He returned the wave to the shadow with a genuine smile, the shadow reminded him of the Shades back home.


Grey took the punch to the face without complaint, turning to raise an eyebrow at the Archer. "Really? Fisticuffs? I had expected more coming from someone who volunteered to enter a MAGE duel. " The canine spat into the ground, and cracked his neck to the side, and then back again. "Use your body while you still have a chance, it won't be long before you won't be able to even twitch of your own volition. "

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