Participants: William David Cross vs Auberon Crìthe
Area Info: Ashville
Fight!
Participants: William David Cross vs Auberon Crìthe
Area Info: Ashville
Fight!
It was the hum that guided the Councilor. Each step in the right direction quelled the hum, lowered its pitch and removed the rattle that plagued his teeth; to step off path would carry the hum upward and the head of the youth couldn’t take it a moment longer—wouldn’t take it.
And so he stalked much this way on route to a town he had never heard of. It rested in a region likewise foreign yet he moved as if he had been there before, as if there was an invisible guide that had led the way. It wasn’t until his soles clicked within the proper, his shoulders bumped into those set on their own course did that humming stop. His teeth chewed and grinded the stalk to a pulpy mess which would be spit and the stalk shifted to compensate for the lack of length.
A firm grip became loose, Ladon hung between gloved fingers, and the Councilor for the first time since leaving Casper, lifted his head up from the road. So this is Ashville, where another man will die.
His approach was one that was not to be desired. The road had been an unpleasant one, although it was never pleasant to him so he didn't know what to call it otherwise. His eyes shifted amongst the the city, looking. The draw was great now, something was calling out to him, something from among the masses. He wasn't sure who it was yet, but he could feel them. It was as if a sense of rising climax was coming to it's full carnation, and he was along for the full ride of it. Every face offset it everywhere he looked."...I'll never understand why I put that collar around my neck. Maybe it might have been the thrill of a new challenge; one thing was for sure though, from the moment I put it on I regretted it. The compulsion to follow it where it was leading was almost an annoyance. It caused me constant hell whenever I thought to try and deviate from the path it set for me. As I've state plenty of times before, the things that draw me to them are never nice thing. They never have been, and for all I know, the never will be. However, what was drawing me and I was being drawn to were very different things...
His hands were already clenched, his fist formed in a slight feeling of anticipation. He could feel that every step he took brought him closer. It was the classic hook inside of him, the feeling that what was waiting would add something to him.
Would it be purpose?
Maybe it would be the premise to a new beginning?
He couldn't know...and that was when it happened. His eyes set on a young man that simply stood out to him among the crowd. A resonance flowed between the collar and his mind, and a short moment of peace resounded through his head. The person in front of him had collided with his path. It looked like this was a dead end stop for him.
Stopping a few yards from the other, he relaxed himself.
Might as well live it out.
"I guess you're what this thing has been drawing me to then?" It wasn't so much of a question, if he was right... "The names William David Cross." His voice was sound, not offensive or defensive. Much like himself, however, he was ready.
It begins...
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Kevin J. Anderson
It was tucked neatly between his words, as if the source echoed from the apex of the man before him, that dull hum that drove the youth into lands unknown; that hum that Auberon had to silence—this is the one who would die—of that, the Councilor was certain. The man spoke politely, softly even, but he would be met with silence. The freed hand of the youth lifted and with a gloved index finger began to dot the atmosphere before him. As the tip of his finger withdrew and moved to the next, the place it formerly pressed upon was tainted with a faint glow. It radiated and burnt as if a star.
It was random to the eyes before and around him, children eagerly caught in the sight would stop and gawk. With the pattern taking a shape unfamiliar, he would smile faintly and return the salutations just as softly. “I am Auberon, the child of Astaai, of Muhir.” Simple and formal, the Crìthe cared little for the introduction but since it was given first, he would simply return it. Once the pleasantries were out of the way the youth began a soft back peddle, though not once would he stop prodding the space before him.
Soon the man, this William Cross, would understand well the Councilor’s need to drive away the hum.
It seemed that it had begun, and in a much different way than William could have expected. This man before him, though younger, sent ranging pounds throughout his head, and it wasn't from the collar he was wearing either. The introduction had been short and simple; there would be no bothering about with the useless pleasantries. Something in the eyes of this guy made a shiver go down Wills spine. Cross-paths was what his father had called it. A person who appears before him, with every intent of stopping him from continuing on in his journey; even if it was an aimless one.
The light show began soon after, starting with a single dot from Auberon's finger. One poke in the space in between them was going to star this off. It left little for thought that the people around were stopping and looking at them now: the exchange was about to begin.
His left had moved to Valdaer, loosening the blade in its' hilt. The sparks were about to start flying, quite literally. Already, Auberon had began to move away, and almost as if it had been an unsighted signal, William moved back away from it to. The Oathways were being broken even as he moved, and the bracelet was already tying into him; focus achieving the link between the two. His own breathing began to regulate within his body: it felt a slight tension, the nerves before a battle; they were still present.
He spared one thought for the people around them—they looked on, some backing away as he was, others staying in place. He knew that this wasn't a spectator sport, honestly speaking. More to add to his list then. The digits containing his rings on his right hand connected, and all was ready. He rubbed them together, making a small noise with them; now or never.
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Kevin J. Anderson
In the back-peddle of the youth, his finger hesitated not once, the visible light that began before him moved when he did and as his finger prodded and plucked at the atmosphere, it would continue to expand and develop. Through the display that appeared in full before him, he would watch the man’s subtle movements with a stern gaze. Narrowed and piercing as the hum did its best to pull focus away and lull the Eternalist.
It was Ladon that called and beckoned to the youth, drawing his mind ever from the hum so that the man remained in his focus. The blade was lifted and the sheath slammed heavy into the ground, the end of it dug deep and from the sheath the blade would be drawn outward, though Ladon had shifted to that of a curved blade as the guise was lost once the sheath had been removed—Arista, now smiled wide.
Waving the curved and tempered blade about the air, over and through the dots of light as it moved them and sliced them but once the blade left they returned to their original pattern and point in the skyline; they would not falter or be harmed by the tools of man.
And so the Crìthe merely looked forth, this Cross would be broken.
Zodiac Arts - 2
The mural in front of William held his mind for a little. It was a strange sight to see, since the only place he was used to seeing stars was up above in the heavens. Walking at night, continually looking up at the stars had given him an affinity for them, and the fact that this little painting had the feel of a constellation made another one of those small chills go down his spine. The mental thought process it took to progress all of this through his head showed nothing, and Valdaer no longer remained at his side. Grasping it tightly, he broke the final Oathway holding it dormant. Mental tendrils reached out from him, coaxing the sparks; introducing latent desires of the blade into the stream of his movements. Sparks coated the edge, flowing as he drew it, releasing more into the apparent environment.
It began, incorporeal threads moving out from him, attaching themselves to the local statue; influencing them to the point of a forced shift. The heat radiated from him, the blade in his hand a mere ruse as he moved swiftly to his side, and let the full effects of his attempt take place. The hold of the pattern around him shifted as he reached farther, distorting the entire sphere. He couldn't limit it to one person, so it was wide spread, however shifting his perception granted him a better view of it.
A cheap parlor trick, to be honest, but until he was sure what that constellation was for, he was was loath to make any apparent moved. Hidden--hopefully, he awaited. If it turned into a waiting game, he would see whose patience could last longer. Valdaer was still very present, and the second doorway was yet to be opened; he hoped that extent wouldn't have to be pulled out.
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Kevin J. Anderson
A groan as the footfalls of Auberon once more shifted backwards, the canvas before him rippled with the heat that tainted and claimed the atmosphere; yet the youth only responded by tapping his finger against the rippled pages. Those hues shone still as the image before the duo, and before the onlookers, only expanded. With each new press the one before it would shine brighter as between the dots lines had come to form. An intricate pattern suddenly sliced across the otherwise abstract lights.
Arista once more waved about the air, the wind that whirled like a helix about its base would take to a visual shape; green and yellow before it dissipated about the blade. With a soft smile the swiftly drawn gust would follow the length of the blade. It hummed and whistled still as it broke the length of his arm and blade, hurling itself almost absently forward towards the last clear location of the man. Against his palm the hilt twirled and the blade remained placed to his front.
The Eternalist remained serene from behind the veil of light that had been erected by the mere tip of his finger, the attack—should something as rudimentary as the wind be called that—was meant to keep the man before him likewise on his toes. The tip of Arista clanked hard against the paved stage. Soon the heavens would beckon, their prowess would shatter the arms of this Cross; his faith tested in the simple design.
Zodiac Arts - 3
His rashness was going to be the end of him someday. He couldn't be sure about it, but it was something the think about. Uncertainty plagued him as he cloaked himself with even movements, keeping a certain view of the image he'd created wrapped around him. It wasn't hard to maintain, rather just a little bothersome. William thought that waiting might have been a smart thing to do, however, this Auberon had decided that action was a better course—and in all rights he may have been right. The constellation that he had been keeping an eye on seemed to change, while Auberon was taking a step back from it. No doubt about it now, that was going to be something to look out for, and with him, he'd already learned that waiting on someone else to be the one to get flashy was always a bad idea.
It wasn't too far into his mental thinking that he heard...wind? It sounded like a small gust flowing out from something, and with his own stupid mistake, he could only manage about a portion of what he could normally see; he shifted on his feet and moved father away from where he'd initially been standing, thinking that the first time he'd moved wasn't enough, and sure enough, his luck paid off. No sooner than he'd managed to move from where he'd been standing something had passed through that spot. First off, a small moment of clarity—cooled air had been presented there. Oh, that was fun. The guy not only had this mysterious light show going on, he also had an elemental medium to work through too.
Well, that spills the milk...
Valdaer relaxed in his hand, and his eyes remained sharp on where Auberon was; his last general direction was enough. The light show was still very visible to him; but it was time for a little show of his own making. The first doorway had been opened, and the progression to the second had only been slightly postponed. His hand, figuratively, was on the knob of it—decidedly this would be the best time to turn it. Focus number one had barely even been used, but this was not time for him to play games, and parlor tricks weren't going to cut in. Within, the energy core of his body began to shift, giving way to his next oath; his sworn bonds griping him as they began to loosen. Deliberate breaths brought about the shift within his body; a heightened feel of everything around him came about. Hairs stood up on his body, as he laid out a thicker heat than before.
If nothing else, i'll at least make him uncomfortable with the last of it.
The next focus had been activated, and although he couldn't see it, he knew the crest had recognized him, and his oath. The second Oathway was now unblocked, unhindered by any resistance from him or his body. Valdaer reacted to it, the blade receiving the charge he set to it, the current flowing down it. Without farther adieu he unleashed it from the blade, swinging it towards Auberon, the electrolysis effect magnified in this being desired; however he knew that this was only the start.
Extended attained. Oathways complete.
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Kevin J. Anderson
Lessons hammered by the tongue of his father had done well to temper the blade of Auberon, who, when faced with his foe now saw only a chance to strike. Yet the strike came neither from a blade nor a spell, it was in fact the blade—Arista—that sought refuge in a soiled sheath. The tip of the blade pierced the paved walkway of Ashville with a deifying thud, debris kicked and the blade did what it was designed to do; slice. The quick casted strike of lighting would be repelled and fork like the tongue of snake around the glowing atmosphere and frame that stood behind it.
The lights leapt with a final display of luminance before fading and falling backwards to the frame of Auberon, where once more the radiance erupted and took to the shape of horns fixated upon the head of a low animal. The finger of the Councilor pricked for a final time the atmosphere as the shape of a keyhole expanded and the sound of a locking mechanism giving away echoed in the depths of his head. What was unlocked was the door to the first House, the House of Self and outward ran the Ram; Aries.
An orb of vermillion came to surround the entirety of Auberon, slicing into the ground pulling up with it a single lot of land that still held firmly the blade of the Eternalist. The stoic face of the youth curled into a faint smile, as the shield that had been formed pulsed and swirled in the heated atmosphere, as created by William. As the atmosphere continued to rippled and aid that of the Cross’ prowess and control of the fire, it had become something of the environment and so, it would likewise feed the shield.
In root the aptitude of Auberon had remained placed well with the wind; the heated gusts created in the rippling atmosphere would be drawn to the shield where they whipped and whirled and the heat would be plucked and the wind killed; both of which now hummed and resonated into the shield. The mind of Auberon began to turn and twist, his mental faculty awakened and he began to spot the atmosphere contained with the bubble.
Perhaps the Cross was re-enforced.
Zodiac Arts - 1
Mental Awareness, unlocked. Psionic Prep.
The Aries appeared before him, and Williams hand shivered slightly, small currents still flowing from him into Valdaer; the after charge dissipating into himself. Shaking it off, he looked towards Auberon. The battle had now shifted slightly, he could feel the element of his oath almost draining into something, he wasn't too sure what it was, but he was sure it had a lot to do with the shift that had occurred with the constellation. It was a dangerous thing, not to mention Auberon being able to cut straight through that blast he'd sent, but luckily that wasn't the only thing he had in his arsenal. William's lips moved into a small smirk as he shifted his stance, and began drawing in all he'd unleashed as of yet, returning to himself the tendrils that were sustaining the current bubble of his chosen atmosphere. It wasn't instant, but slowly the back flow of it returned to him.
Maybe I should try something new...
The focus around his arm began to be accessed, along with the crest around his neck, the collar still bothering him: it was time for a slight shift though. His old techniques apparently weren't going to work here. Innovation had served well in the past, and maybe they could do the same to him here too. Both of the raw elements began to stir within him, his core energy pattern shifting to something--new. A mixture of what he was began to take shape within him, the current space still feeding into him; he would need time.
"You know," He voice rang out in a calm tone. "You're taking this far too seriously!"
With that he turned to the side and ran into the nearest building he saw, every thought focused on the man behind him, knocking people who were in front of him out of his way.
Come on...
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Kevin J. Anderson
It was the translucence that hung about the visage of Auberon that rippled with the reddened atmosphere, as the tendrils withdrew the air around that of the Eternalist would retain the heat and as such the shield would continue to draw from it. Gloved digits lifted and coiled about the collar, it vibrated against his touch and once more called to him.
Though well kept in his defense the air just before his eyes would become spotted, more so than that beforehand, as the youth prodded and poked, poked and prodded the atmosphere of his self sustained shield. It was a more defined shape that appeared as the spots just before his face became almost claw like in design, the rest of the shape developed around these two points. Within the Councilor’s head a room had appeared.
Circular and with a door on nearly every aspect of it they slowly began to unlock, the clicking echoed and hung until the one to its left opened, soon they would all be opened and he would able to leave the room, that is of course should he opt to do so. The room itself started to fill with an azure haze that waved about as if fingers guided the mind of Auberon towards the recently opened rooms.
A heretic only smiled as he prepared to shatter the Cross before him.
Zodiac Arts - 2
Psionic Prep - 2.
William looked back towards the outside, back to where he had run from, the crowds of people that had once been there were now getting thinner and thinner. No one had followed him into the building, and he honestly couldn't tell if this was a good thing or a bad thing; right now it simply was. His heart rate was beating fast, and the new energy that was taking shape, and shifting within him was causing a reaction within his body that he wasn't usually used to. The discharges of the effect were weighing down on him slightly, but Valdaer was playing true to it's purpose, helping him filter out the negative prospects of it all. Nothing he'd every done before could have prepared him for what he was about to do, and so he leaped into it without a final thought.
Within his mind, the two insignia that he wore rotated, both the distinct vows of his Oath: the Oathsworn. His paths opened up within him, and the Oathways piled upon him, each now path becoming a relevant distinct option for him to chose. He had always operated the two as such, but now he could no longer depend to keep them separate. Exasperated to the point of their shift, he felt that binding of the new being placed upon him. A road to walk again, he felt it say. Williams eyes turned inwards for but a moment, looking to see the Oath that was now another burden--no, no longer than. He'd walked his entire life with the thought that his Oaths were his burden, his curse. It was time to fully accept them for what they were.
Valdaer straightened as he took on a more enlightened sense of thought. Both of his focus's were now active. Either one able to be used with or without the other. That was a new thing for him, one Oath, one ability. He looked forward to outside the building, his new Oath weighting on him like a feather. He hadn't followed, but maybe that was just as well. Taking up Valdear, he rubbed his two fingers together on his left hand, Valdaer in his right. Something was about to occur, and he felt that a beast had just been awakened.
Oathpath 2
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Kevin J. Anderson
I am going to have to withdraw due to not having the time needed to continue this, with that William Cross advances to Round Two.
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