Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Oct 19, 2016 21:21:22 GMT -6
Ravvus sucked down a gulp of air, taking time to fill his gut as much as possible. He exhaled, allowing just as much time for the oxygen to leave his body. The mage's breathing was measured, well-paced. His eyes were calm and focused. His face steely and composed, but his twitching arm belied such signs of tranquility.
He'd been in these woods for some time now. Ravvus liked the woods. He felt the presence of the spirits of anima stronger there than in any other place. The woods were a conducive place to practice magic, a good place to focus and draw on the powers of nature. It was by far the second greatest artifice Ravvus had when it came to casting magic. The first, of course, was his Trinity tome.
But Ravvus had a fiery temper. A temper which made the boon of the forest all but moot. He'd been there for some time now, trying to summon the storms of Trinity. The words of Mimi echoed in his head. Words of advice and encouragement. Ravvus had to discover his own means of summoning wind spells. But all attempts so far had proven utter failures. It really pissed him off. And his patience was all but gone.
The mage's arm twitched.
Being calm, maintaining composure amidst failure. These are not easy things for Ravvus to do. When Ravvus fails at a task, he gets angry. And that anger compounds itself until it has been properly vented. Ravvus lifted his right hand, his fingers stiff and curled inwards. A fireball the size of his head, materialized above the mage's hand. Drawing back rapidly, Ravvus flung the fireball forward and watched with immense satisfaction as the projectile exploded against the bark of a nearby tree.
Walking as quickly as he could, Ito traversed the lands of Etruria with cautious anxiety. He despised the place, after all they had magically nuked Ostia, his late wife's hometown and the head power in the Lycian Alliance, and they had murdered the group of mercenaries that took him in and treated him like family. All in cold blood. Ito's feelings for the place, however nice it may be, were not good. Speeding along through the trees, with his hand on the hilt of his sword in a passive aggressive manner, Ito was on high alert. Then suddenly, the tree four meters to his left exploded violently, showering him in bark, wood splinters, and... sparks?
Ito turned in the tree's direction, unsheathing his sword and putting himself in a guard-like stance, all in one motion. He saw in front of him a young man dressed in leather armor, covered by a horrifically colored orange cloak. The person looked angry. Like, really angry. Was he a mage? Ito could only guess as he called out, appearing calm but taking up an aggressive undertone. "Hey! What was that for?" Then, almost unconsciously, Ito added, "You Etrurians seem bent on my destruction! Come at me!"
Ito would play this out aggressively, reacting to his new opponent's first move. He would wait for an opening, then carry his advantage as far as he could before getting to a safe space again. Ito was beginning to open up his emotions, letting the negative feelings he'd had over the last few years fuel a very passionate approach to combat.
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Oct 20, 2016 18:08:59 GMT -6
The blast was spectacular. The bark crumpled and blackened as the fireball collided against the tree's frame. The sparks showered about the ground in a fleeting dance. Smoke trailed from the smoldering wood, permeating the atmosphere with a thick odor. But such a display of force was hardly enough to curb the mage's ire. Fortunately, for Ravvus, the woods were feeling merciful, or perhaps simply wished not to be incinerated, and presented another means of stoking his flames.
A boy, blond of hair, and draped in gold-trimmed finery appeared behind the smoking tree. Ravvus hadn't even seen him approach. Not too surprising given the mage's volatile state. ”What!?” The mage snarled, his tone wavering between furious and embarrassed. He had not anticipated someone spying on his temper tantrum.
”How long have you been there?” The mage inquired with another scathing snarl.
The boy's response didn't matter. His combat stance told Ravvus everything he wanted to know. ”Oh-” Ravvus interrupted, the corners of his lips curling into a mischievous smile. ”You're looking for a fight, then, are you?” Ravvus brought his hands to his waist, both palms facing upwards. Fireballs came into being above each hand and the mage slowly advanced upon the swordsman. ”I'd be happy to oblige you.” Something was off about this young man. He had the clothing of a nobleman and had mentioned something about being persecuted by Etrurians. Perhaps he was a high class citizen of some foreign kingdom, like Bern or Vinland, and been forced out by the Prophet's crusaders. If Ravvus were of a more composed mind, he might inquire more of this 'Prince of Vinland'. But the mage was not.
When the mage had closed about a third of the gap between him and Ito, he hunched down and brought the fireballs together. The combustion engines combined to form an even greater entity and the mage drew both hands away from the blazing creation. Two whips of flame followed the mage's hands as they withdrew from the large fireball. The whips curled and stiffened, giving the fireball the appearance of a glaive.
”Lets! Go!” The mage shouted, and hurled the spinning spell. The glaive went vertical, its' whips of flames slapping the earth and leaving a singed trail with each rotation.
Ito presently ignored the magic boy's questions, less focused on answering and more focused on preparing himself. His pent up emotions held control of the myrmidon now, and Ito sought for only one thing. Justice, fueled by his mistrust, disliking of and general hatred for Etrurians, because of hat they'd done to him in the past.
"Lets! Go!" At the moment the foolishly dressed mage -it was confirmed by the spinning body of fire the boy controlled- shouted out, Ito dashed forward and pushed off, landing clear of the fireball's path. Free from the distraction of an immediate threat, he continued his charge, coming within a couple meters of the mage and swinging his sword from his lower right side in a diagonal slash, sweeping the blade upwards and to Ito's left side. Fueled by a buildup of emotion that had been in creation for literal years, Ito yelled out angrily as he made the strike. If this strike was successful, it would end the fight with an injured, foolishly dressed mage, with Ito on his way.
That was unlikely to be the case, however, so Ito made mental preparations for what he would do next. Today, the myrmidon would go in hard and fast, a passionate hatred fueling his power and speed, accompanied by an already powerful physical strength that was coupled with impressive natural speed. Ito's next movements depended on his enemy's next moves, and would be fluid, precise, and natural. Years of training, hunting, and surviving all built up to each careful move Ito made in combat, be it with monsters, or with men.
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Oct 31, 2016 21:23:10 GMT -6
The earth pounding engine of fire zoomed forward as Ito leapt clear of its' path. The inexorable entity continued onward, crashing into a tree with a cacophonous explosion. With its' base all but incinerated, the tree toppled to the earth with a rustle of leaves and the groaning of wood.
”Haha!” Ravvus cackled as the Prince of Vinland avoided the spinning glaive with relative ease. The young man was certainly quick to respond. Judging by the lightness of his feet and the slimness of his sword, Ravvus surmised the man might have had some training with a Sacaen tribe. Their kind had a particular fondness for quick footing and quicker blades. What was more intriguing was the young man's fearlessness. Ravvus had expected his initial attack to have had some effect on a psychological level. That glaive was bigger than most spells the mage could summon. The mere sight of it was intimidating, to say the least. But not to this blonde youth. Either the man knew no fear or had faced similarly daunting challenges in the past. The mage was impressed.
As the youth drew close, Ravvus kept his eyes trained on his opponent's blade. The mage knew if he let the swordsman get in close, and stay close, the fight would be over. Ravvus too was light on his feet, but multi-tasking between avoiding slashes, muttering incantations, and occupying one hand with Trinity, were a bit too much for him to handle. If there was any hope for the mage to reset, he would need to trade blows with the youth. As the Prince of Vinland readied his attack, Ravvus pivoted, obscuring his right hand. With his hidden hand, Ravvus mustered a fireball. With the other, he withdrew the Trinity tome.
The mage leapt back as the opposing blonde swung his sword. It was all Ravvus could do to avoid the diagonal strike. Landing lightly, Ravvus gave the youth his answer, whipping his right arm forth and sending the fireball careening towards the opponent. As the mage allowed himself to reset, he reached for the clasp on his orange cloak. Undoing it, Ravvus allowed his attire to fall to the earth, revealing a light set of leather armor underneath. ”Not bad, kid. You're pretty fast, not to mention ballsy. Where'd you learn how to fight?”
Ito quieted his yell, the mage boy jumping back and narrowly avoiding Ito's first strike. Through his emotion, he was blind to the fireball, but instinct taught him that something was coming right then. Ducking as magic boy hurled another, albeit smaller fireball, it passed right over his head and hit the hard ground behind him, leaving a patch of charred grass a few meters behind Ito. As the magic man was reaching up to unclasp his horrifically colored cloak, Ito swung again, taking another step to put Ravvus back in striking distance. Using a tight, two handed grip this time to add some extra power to the strike. Ito's rapid forward advances would keep Ravvus on his toes and unable to fully retaliate, Ito guessing from the smaller size of the last fireball that magic boy threw that reciting spells while running away was difficult, to say the least. So, he planned on keeping it that way, and not allowing the mage he could nominate for 'worst dressed combatant' any breathing room would keep the advantage in his possession.
As Ito attacked, the young mage spoke in a rather cocky manner, asking Ito where he learned to fight. Well, he thought, I might as well tell him. It won't do him any good anyways. "Thanks. You're not bad yourself, and if I didn't want to hit you I might've flinched. I've been training with swordsmen since I was a little kid, and with a more experienced mercenary group before you Etrurians slaughtered them like wolves devour helpless lambs."
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Nov 1, 2016 16:39:31 GMT -6
”Have you?” Ravvus inquired as he leapt backward, feeling the end of Ito's blade scrape across his leather armor. The youth had caught him off guard. Ravvus winced, having barely avoided a direct hit. He'd anticipated having more time to reset, but it appeared nothing short of a direct blow would deter his swift opponent's advance. ”Funny, I've been fighting since I was a boy too. Just not with any weapons.
The gears in the mage's head turned, formulating a plan to wear down the ferocious swordsman. The Prince of Vinland's fighting style was fast, relentless, and lethal. An effective strategy, so long as it managed to dispatch quickly dispatch the opponent. If it didn't, the fighter would find themselves exhausted fairly quickly. Ravvus was confident in his abilities to avoid, or receive only glancing blows, so long as he kept his distance. But he would have been more confident with a quarterstaff, or some other means of deflecting incoming attacks. The mage had small intention of gambling on his nimble reflexes alone. He'd win this fight through a balance of magic and reflexes.
Whatever the case, Ravvus needed to take back the momentum now and that required a risk. ”Any of these folks you trained with happen to be Sacaen?” Ravvus inquired, his eyes lingering on the smoldering remains of his initial spell. Between conversing the mage recited incantations from Trinity and found his free hand alight with a fan of fire. Breaking forward, towards both his opponent and the tree the glaive had struck, the mage reached out with his spell-wielding hand and cast an arc of orange heat. ”Your style seems like something adopted from the plainsmen.”
Magic boy jumped back and responded, his claims of training since childhood drawing a similarity to the swordsman. However, mage man couldn't jump back far enough this time, and the moment Ito felt his blade connect to the center of the magic boy's chest he released the hilt with his left hand and pushed forward in another long step ahead with his original one handed grip. The tip of his blade was driven forward with a new, powerful momentum that was very likely to penetrate the simple leather magic boy wore. Hopefully this would end it, so he could continue on his way. While he was unsure of where his way would be, the only thing Ito knew was that it was forward.
His push forward would interrupt anything mage man would attempt to say after his initial question about Ito's training roots, banter and incantations alike. Less than a meter from the boy now, Ito threw a punch with his left hand, an uppercut to magic boy's lower parts. Even through leather, this would likely hurt a lot, at least if magic boy was human. "I've never trained with Sacaens before. But there was a swordmaster that I trained with. He was a bit more on the calm side, but he could be more aggressive than anyone when he needed to be. He showed me much, and would've shown me more had your people not killed him in cold blood!"
Ito did not intend to kill magic boy, but he did intend to win.
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Nov 2, 2016 21:23:48 GMT -6
The young man, ferocious as ever, pressed his attack. With one swift motion, the blonde charged forward, attempting to stab Ravvus. The mage was ready this time, growing more comfortable with his opponent's fighting style. With one foot Ravvus pivoted out of the way, narrowly avoiding the blade which was only inches from his body. The conjurer was more than a little incensed by that. He'd been coming to enjoy this little brawl with the Prince, but the boy had just gone for a potentially lethal blow. Ravvus didn't take kindly to his life being threatened. Muttering a minor spell into existence, Ravvus felt a wreath of flames envelop his free hand. His opponent was close now. Ravvus would lock with him and make the Prince release his sword.
Ravvus went to grapple with his opponent only to notice the Prince of Vinland 's low striking fist. The mage's eyes widened as he realized what the swordsman was going to do. ”Heh. Despicable.” Ravvus was abruptly cut off as Ito's fist made contact. The mage winced in pain, feeling his thighs close together. He paused for a moment, allowing his body to comprehend what had just happened. ”Your-” Ravvus coughed, interrupting himself. ”Mistake was assuming I'm an Etrurian.” With great swiftness the mage gripped the swordsman's wrist, flames lapping about his opponent's sword hand. ”I'm not some school-bred pansy who can't take a low blow.” Indeed, growing up amongst delinquents had hardened the mage's... pain tolerance. Ravvus reared his head back, preparing to slam his skull against the Prince's. ”I grew up in the Western Isles. I was born fighting dirty!” The mage thrust his head forward, embracing the thrill of combat and abandoning all pretense of strategy or planning.
Ito smirked, his punch successful. Although the thrust missed, he hit with his second attack. The magic boy grabbed Ito's wrist, the fire around magic boy's hand creating a heat that went through Ito's thick, long sleeve. The grab burned him, but he tried to ignore it as the mage man spoke. Ito's eyes widened. Have I made a mistake? he thought, regretting his instinctually quick jump to combat at their first moments of encountering each other. Too late now...
Mage boy said something about knowing how to fight dirty, and as he pulled his head back for a headbutt Ito took advantage, throwing another punch; this time aimed at magic boy's throat. This would hurt, and likely make it hard for the mage man to breathe. Hopefully, it would also lead to the grab being broken.
Ito looked into magic boy's eyes, a sudden appearance of calm replacing his expression of aggression. "I have no need to fight with you, then. We have no valid quarrel to battle for. No reason to fight each other." Although it hurt, he had to say it. There was absolutely no reason for mage man to get hurt, he wasn't Etrurian. Ito had jumped to conclusions, he'd let his pent up emotions take over. Next time, Ito thought, I can't let this happen. One day I might get burned... He remembered the feeling in his right wrist, burned worse than this, anyways. If Ito successfully broke the grab, he would sheath his sword and step back, to face his opponent in a less aggressive nature.
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Nov 5, 2016 12:40:56 GMT -6
There was little the mage could do as Ito countered the incoming headbutt. The well-dressed opponent pushed Ravvus' Adam's apple inwards, forcing the air out of his lungs. The mage's eyes bugged out, his attack abruptly stopped. Ravvus leapt back, breaking his lock with Ito, panting and wheezing for air. As the mage slid backwards, he pressed his still flaming hand on the grass, leaving a trail of of embers in his wake. Eyes trained on the Prince, Ravvus extinguished the flames in his free hand and placed an open palm on his bruised neck.
”Hurrrr...” Ravvus took labored breaths in between coughs. ”Huuuuu-” It felt like a someone had jammed a rock in his throat, making it almost impossible for air to pass in and out of his lungs. The mage slammed his fist into the ground. ”No -hack- need to fight me?! No valid quarrel!? Because of what? Because I fight dirty? Because you're a little scared now that you've felt my flames?” The mage leveled Trinity in one hand, bringing the book to eye level. ”You tried to stab me in the chest! You punched my testicles!” Ravvus removed his hand from his throat, his fingers curled into a tense fist. ”Even I don't fight dirty enough to go for the gonads- most of the time!” The mage bent over, a fit of coughing overtook him after the last outburst. ”Hurrr...” Ravvus stared the swordsman in the eye, the embers on the ground flared with life. ”If you don't want to fight anymore, than you'd better start running.” The mage spoke in between incantations. ”Because I'm just getting warmed up.” Ravvus' free hand shot up, the embers transformed into earnest flames and an arc of heat jumped towards the Prince.
Ito stared at the magic boy as he fell to the ground, magic boy's mystical ember trail glowing and smoking as it singed the once green grass. Ito felt bad; He'd started it, even though mage boy threw the first attack. now, as magic man sat on the ground caught up in a coughing fit, Ito began to turn away. Then, magic boy spoke. Ito stopped and looked at mage boy, making eye contact once more as magic boy sounded quite enraged. Magic boy pointed out Ito's carefully placed killing blows, which the magic boy had only narrowly avoided, and each time Ito opened his mouth to apologise, he was cut off by another coughing fit and more verbal attacks.
Magic boy recommended Ito run, but Ito wasn't going to run. He was going to leave calmly, as if to shrug off his mistake of presuming a fight with the magic boy as if it were nothing. His face was calm, but mage boy would be able to recognise what Ito felt through his eyes. Regret. Ito's actions would not have been acceptable, had he still had his team around. Had they not been slain by the Etrurians, Ito might not have ever harbored any resentment towards the nation. Of course, he couldn't go around blaming people for why he did things. After all, it was his choices that mattered, not what anyone else decided to do to him. Jumping into a fight with no explanation or knowledge beforehand of who he was facing, all because he made the assumption that mage boy was Etrurian, was completely against what Ito should stand for. Stupid.
You know it. I know it. I messed up. Not because I'm weak, but because I jumped to conclusions. I didn't think, and I don't blame you for trying to defend yourself. I'm no good at this... But if I don't keep going... How will I learn?
Ito's unspoken thoughts were interrupted as magic boy hurled more fire at the swordsman. Ito sidestepped the rage-filled outburst, then turned and walked away, leaving magic boy to sit in his anger. It's fine with me if he holds a grudge; it's not like there is anything I can do about it anyways.
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Nov 8, 2016 0:10:18 GMT -6
The mage stared down his opponent as the swordsman registered Ravvus' words. The Prince maintained a look of serenity layered beneath something Ravvus had a hard time deciphering. It looked to him like the Prince was sad. And then, to Ravvus' utter disbelief, the swordsman side-stepped the incoming attack and turned his back on the mage. Ravvus was used to the boy evading his attacks but turning his back was something utterly new. New and insulting. ”You- You aren't serious!” The mage blurted out, but the nimble fighter kept walking. He offered Ravvus no response, keeping any unstated reasons for ending the fight to himself.
”You- Are you trying to mock me?!” The mage conjured a wild and unstable fireball in his free hand. The entity quickly spurted tentacles and rapidly lost it's orb-like shape. ”Who turns their back in the middle of a fight?!” Ravvus threw the volatile flame at his pacifistic opponent. The spell flew past Ito, just inches from grazing his head. ”STAND AND FIGHT!” Ravvus bellowed, summoning and hurling another warning spell just short of his opponent.
The Prince of Vinland kept walking.
Teeth grinding against each other, eyes wide with madness, and hand clamped hard on Trinity's spine, Ravvus nearly frothed at the site of Ito. The mage slammed his free hand down upon the pages of Trinity, flipping through the tome of spells with reckless abandon. He came to a page containing incantations for a spell called 'lightning'. The culmination of novice thunder spells, lightning cast out an arc of electricity which struck, pierced, and even looked, like a spear. Albiet, a jagged, ivory spear. Ravvus began to mutter the incantations for the spell. ”This is your last warning, prince.” The mage moved his free hand from the tome, opening it so that his fingers looked a 'C' lying on its' back. ”Finish this fight, facing me, or I will strike you down as you walk away.” Audible pops and cracks could be heard as a jagged, white spear appeared in the conjurer's hand.
Ito looked back at his former opponent at his final outburst. Making eye contact, he spoke softly, but in an assertive tone that was still loud enough for Ravvus to hear clearly. "I'm not turning my back in the middle of a fight. This fight. Is over." Turning again, Ito kept walking, placing his right hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword as he entered the tree line.
Hopefully the mage boy would understand that Ito didn't want to fight with him anymore. Ito wondered if he fought too much in his life. Was such a thing possible, when the only thing he could do in his life was wander around, fighting for the people of his location, or for the people of his past? Maybe Ito wasn't ready... Maybe he should go back to Lycia, until he could get things figured out. Yes, Ito thought, that is what I will do.
Protected from magic boy by the trees now, Ito continued on walking, turning towards the direction he came from. The journey home would be long, but he made up his mind. He would get back to Lycia, keep building his strength, and maybe be fortunate enough to make some acquaintances that weren't through combat. He could only hope for the best as he pressed forward.
Should I not have been on my way to the Western Isles? Perhaps I made a mistake? Yes, I'm sure of it. If only I'd thought first... Perhaps I could've avoided this encounter completely...
Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Nov 8, 2016 12:03:36 GMT -6
The foreigner didn't even flinch. He saw the lightning spear in Ravvus' hand and heard every word the mage spoke. None of it affected him. The swordsman was either confident enough or foolish enough to ignore the threats. ”What?!” Ravvus bellowed. ”You can't do that! Fights don't finish until one person claims irrefutable victory!” The Prince kept walking. ”Get back here!” No response. ”I. Said.” Ravvus growled, tightening his grip on the lightning lance. Singes and black spots appeared on the mage's hand. Without additional protection, Ravvus' resistance to anima was not enough to protect him from directly touching the spell. ”GET BACK HERE!!” The mage threw his spell forward as Ito disappeared into the woods. The lightning spear crashed into one of the many trees of the woods, splitting an aperture wide open with an explosion of splinters and light.
The Prince was gone.
”Fine! Run with your tail between your legs, then.” The mage shouted, his voice becoming hoarse. He was unsure of whether the swordsman could even still hear him. ”Just know that this battle ended with my victory, with my-” Ravvus cut himself off. Why was he so angry? The conjurer looked about his surroundings, now noticing the damage caused by his spells. A total of three trees were either obliterated or scarred by the mage's magic. Patches of grass roared with fire, the due's of dodged fireballs and other inaccurate spells. ”Huff, huff.” Ravvus panted, realizing now that he was out of breath. The mage brought his free hand to eye level. There we black spots on the palm of his hand and the inside of his fingers. Otherwise the skin looked shiny, new. Those were places where the skin had peeled under intense heat. Ravvus then brought Trinity to eye level, flipping to the pages containing incantations for wind magic. All of this rage. All of this destruction because he couldn't cast a simple 'breeze' spell.
The mage exhaled, tired.
Ravvus flipped back to pages on fire magic. With a free hand, he moved about the forest collecting flame from where-ever it burnt. The conjurer called upon the fire on the grass and the flames in the trees, gathering all of the magic into a single, sizable fireball. The mage maintained his spell, watching the fireball dance and fizzle until it dwindled into nothing. And when there was nothing left, Ravvus left the woods and returned to Delfia.