The Arconian Open

[Lady Cristina]

-Thank you my Lord-
Well, thanks alot Larya. I think I'll go check out some of the fights.

[Moonitic]

Ken-Dall was fuming. She lost! How could she lose?

Because you aren't your sister! A nasty voice filled her head. No, her sister was dead. Food for the sea creatures by now. And she had taken her place.

The court physician appeared to help her with her injury. Those men not fighting immediately rushed to her side to help the damsel in distress. "Oh, I shall be fine..." She feigned more pain than she actually had. The attention of these foolish boys would serve her well. But there was one whose attention she craved.

Darion.

"Please, send for a young man named Darion. He was to fight after my own." She told one of the others. They frowned, but rushed off to find the competitor. As she sat on a bench, waiting for her champion, she considered her position.

If she could not rule the kingdom herself, a fine wife she would make for the winner of this tournament. Yes, a fine wife.

But what about that daft prince Meekal? "Ah, no matter...he shall not return."

[Darion McNair]

The Swordsman had stopped Senyik from giving chase but the unseen could not be ordered. As discreetly as possible Darion pursued the cloaked figure. As the crowd thickened, he kept falling in and out of sight till Darion lost track of him altogether. It was almost as if he disappeared. He frowned, no one had ever just vanished when he was tracking them. “I can pursue anyone to the ends of the earth without them even so much as noticing a hair on my head! Who is this guy?” he thought, rather disgruntled.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows ruffled in aggravation. Whoever this man was, he was clearly a challenge. The next time he met up with him, he would make sure he never took his eyes off of him.

Just then he overheard a voice from behind him, his ears perked up when he heard his name in the sentence. “I am looking for Darion McNair, the Lady Moon bids him come.”


“So Princess Buffy would speak with me.” Darion thought, using one of her many aliases. He still wished to see her, even after all that has happened. But though he may be forgiving, he wasn’t stupid. He knew now she was capable of far more than he ever expected.

He spotted her sitting on a bench near the bout area where her defeat had taken place and made his way over to her.

“You’re arm doesn’t look so good.” he said, seeming to come out of nowhere and sit down next to her.

“I’ll be fine.” she returned “I’m not exactly thrilled at my performance out there though.”

“All you need is some training. Something like that takes time, it doesn’t just happen overnight you know.” There was an awkward silence. “I’d offer to help you improve but I’m not sure how much time I’ll have in the future. I’ve almost secured myself a job and my possible future superior doesn’t exactly keep to a schedule.”


“Next Bout: Silas Von Schmect and Patrick Riley!” called the bout director of the second bout area. It was right in front of where Ken-Dall and Darion sat. They watched as no more than two beats were made before Riley received a blade in his side. The gaping wound began gushing with blood and Riley collapsed. Darion couldn’t believe what he saw, a wound like that is surely fatal. The surgeons on hand rushed to the fallen competitor in hope of saving his life. Minutes passed by and the surgeons stood, pronouncing him dead.

Silas appeared to look concerned but it lasted only a few fleeting heartbeats. Making comments like “My attack wasn’t that forceful.” and “He must have advanced into it.” The crowd showed their contempt for him, booing and hissing Von Schmect off the bout area.

The competitor numbers were dwindling, out of the original 287, there were perhaps 100 remaining. The true battling would start soon to decide the winner.

Darion rose from his seat. He wanted to do some research and find out his next opponent. He looked back at Ken-Dall with a kind smile.

“Maybe after this is all finished we can sit down to dinner tonight, if you’re not busy. Might help take the sting out of that arm.”

she nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” said Darion. “I look forward to enjoying your company tonight.” It would be different this time, he would make sure that he knew the real Ken-Dall. No more games.

With that he left in search for the tournament committee, to ask about his next bout.

[Lady Cristina]

Cristina walked by the many vendors selling their wares on her way to the second fighting circle. She found the people of Arconia to be a little odd but exactly what she was looking for. She smiled as two insignificant country lords beat upon each others blades without succses, trying to score first blood. She hoped that by positioning herself near the circle she could find the mysterious queen or elusive man in black, this Swordsman.

[IdiotBob]

Jim walked up to the Swordsman and punched him. "That was for JunKun! My Kitty!"

[Rayen]

*clears her throat* Um...Bob, this is Naekos Servaya, one of the top fighters in Arconia and leader of the infamous Strike Force. There is only one fighter that can beat him. This magnificent Talruum fighter goes by the name of Blade, who owes his allegiance to the Swordsman.

Play nicely, gentlemen.

*cringes and walks away*

[IdiotBob]

"Dude, you just got saved by a girl!" Bob laughed in the Swordsman's face

[lochinvar]

Originally posted by IdiotBob
"Dude, you just got saved by a girl!" Bob laughed in the Swordsman's face

Well, at least your name is appropriate...

[Rayen]

Idiot...if you can't grasp the concept of an omnicient break-in, you might as well leave the board. They happen quite often.

Oh! Hi Lochinvar! Nice to see you again!

[Swordsman]

Lochinvar, thank you.

As for the earlier comment from Rayen: As the character Rayen is in no way present, the comment must be regarded as an author's note. As such, it has no effect on the storyline, and the idiot's response must be considered nonexistent.

Now, returning to the story:


Senyik saw someone emerge from the crowd out of the corner of his eye, and punch Nækos in the face. Instinct took over and ruled reaction; Shadowcatcher was out and flying before Nækos could even be fully aware of the attack. As the idiot fell to the blood-stained ground, his last words, "That was for JunKun! My Kitty!" escaped his lips. And then he died.




Idiot Bob, that is a hint. Here is a little less subtle than a hint: Leave now, get a new name, and try again. This time try reading "Posting Guidelines" first, and then following those guidelines.

[IdiotBob]

alright

[Serge the wise]

Serge walked up to Nækos with a part of a painting. "Sir, can you help me with this?"
Without waiting an answer, Serge showed him the painting of his parents, "Have you seen these two people?"

[Swordsman]

Nækos pushed away the picture that had been shoved in his face. "I don't know who they are, and I haven't seen 'em."

[Rayen]

Rayen was beyond what could be considered bored.

With all the streets empty and the shops closed in a sort of tournament siesta, there was little to do in the town of Arconia. She had spent all of an hour unpacking her meager belongings into the drawers of the Bitter End, spent another getting Fox, her clever stallion, a reasonably sized stall, a few flakes of hay, and a waterbucket. After tossing Fox an apple, she left the stables and began to look for any kind of excitement.

Eventually she resorted to following the throngs of people that marched to the south of the city. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but where there was life, there was hope.

The sounds of steel on steel began to ring throughout the area, echoing lightly off of buildings and brick walls. Puzzled, Rayen shifted the weight of Talla onto her hip and pushed forward through the crowd of people to the first sandpit.

“Excuse me, sorry, pardon me…” she said half-heartedly. Talla reached out her chubby hands to grab at shiny things on the displaced people. When they had reached the very front of the mess of bodies, the halfling child grabbed the fence railing in her fists.

Rayen hadn’t heard the names of the challengers, but the battle was over in less than ten seconds. A gaping wound appeared in one of the fighter’s side, and he fell to the ground moaning. Moments later, he was announced as dead, and most of the crowd cleared. Several women covered their mouths to keep from being ill while men glared at the battler turned killer.

Sighing, the woman turned to leave as well, when the sounds of more steel caught her attention. Immediately she stiffened; these noises weren’t coming from a sand pit.

Jogging as best she could with the child in her arms, she headed towards the noise. She arrived just in time to see a man of dark hair and tan skin lose a burst of blood from his shoulder. Before she could register what had happened, the black-cloaked man had been slashed in the back. He turned the other direction and ran, beaten.

Rayen watched in confusion as another man emerged from the crowd, approached the swordsman who was analyzing his small wound, and punched him in the face.

“That was for JunKun, my kitty!” the man cried just before a blade lanced out and struck his throat. A slash of red appeared, and the man fell dead to the ground.

A tall man standing next to the wounded swordsman looked at the body in shock.

“I didn’t mean…I mean, he…he…” the man babbled, staring from his blade to the fallen corpse on the sandy ground.

“Senyik…” the swordsman said.

“It wasn’t my fault! I mean…he…” Senyik continued as if he hadn’t heard his companion, a look of horror still plastered onto his features.

“Senyik!” the other man cried, finally snapping Senyik out of his trance.

Before another word could be uttered, another man appeared from the crowd and approached the swordsman.

“Have you seen these two people?”

The swordsman stared at him as if he were an imbecile turned rampant on the town of Arconia.

"I don't know who they are, and I haven't seen 'em." he answered gruffly without feeling.

Rayen snorted. This poor guy just couldn't catch a break.

Talla, suddenly tired of being silent, gave out a loud crying giggle and grabbed a handful of her favorite object…Rayen’s hair.

“Hey!” The woman called out, grasping Talla’s small fingers and smiling. “Let go of me!”

After she had cleared the toddler from her tresses, she looked back up to the swordsman and the other man. Her heart leapt into her throat. His eyes were locked onto her. No…not on her...on Talla.

Noticing this, the child giggled again and reached her hands out towards the mysterious fighter whom was staring at her as if she were a Pheonix.

With a cold shiver, the dark-haired woman turned as naturally as possible and trudged back the way she came.

[Serge the wise]

Serge looked at the guy with a straight face. He started to speak with worry in his voice, "Thank you for your help. If you ever see them, please see immediately for me. My name is Serge."

Then at the corner of Serge's eye, he saw a little lady reaching for him. He turned to her and knelt down, "My, what's your name?"

[Swordsman]

Nækos gave Serge a brief glance, then turned his attention back to what was much more intruiging: A halfling child. Its caretaker, however, seemed in a hurry to be leaving, and so he gave pursuit.

They were back in the main street by the time he caught her, outside of the tournament area. He was aware, and vaguely grateful, that Senyik was still with him. On the open, empty street, it was quite obvious that she was walking quickly and directly away from him.

"Excuse me," he said, reaching out a hand and catching her shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am, but I couldn't help noticing that you're carrying a halfling child. Might I ask what brings you to Arconia?"

[Serge the wise]

Serge picked up the child and followed Nækos to the caretaker. After setting the child down, he turned to Nækos, "I'll see you around, warrior."

Then before Nækos could respond, he vanished into the crowd looking for the queen. After spotting her, Serge walked closer. "My Queen, I need to talk to you."

[Swordsman]

Note: There was no child for Serge to pick up; the child was in Rayen's arms the whole time. Watch the plot a little closer, Serge, so you don't leave holes.

[Rayen]

Rayen turned to face the one person she had been trying to evade for the last few minutes, trying to feign surprise that the man had followed her. Instinctively, her muscles tensed.

What to tell? An exaggeration of the truth? A complete lie? Something reasonable?

"May I ask your name?" Rayen inquired after a beat's pause, trying to buy herself time enough to formulate all three into a believable story.

'I hadn't counted on any living soul in Arconia recognizing Talla as a halfling.' the woman thought to herself as she watched the tanned features of the fighter darken with suspicion.

[Swordsman]

Nækos' eyes narrowed a bit as he regarded the stranger - who had tensed. Was she armed? There was a bit of a curve beneath her tunic just below her waist...but it could be anything, including a fold of the cloth. But on the other hand, it could be a dagger.

"My name? I am the Swordsman. Now: what brings you to Arconia?