Sweat beads on Rolf's forehead as he moves as close to the fire as he can get.  If these flames are an illusion it's damn convincing one, so much so he doesn't dare move any closer and actually try to touch them.

But he does spy a small box at the center of the column of fire.  Surely this must be what he needs.

Briefly his mind goes back to Dorn's training.  He remembers well the hours spent learning a seemingly simple spell to move small objects to and fro.  It seemed not very useful to Rolf as you could simply just grab the object instead and save yourself a ton of trouble.  It was one of the harder bits of magic he learned.  Not from the spells difficulty but from his own attitude that questioned whether he needed to learn it in the first place.

Maybe Dorn knew I'd be facing this test.  Or maybe he's just wiser than me and knew this spell would come in handy at some point.

Rolf wastes no more time and again moves as close the fire as he can and begins casting.


This message was last edited by the player at 16:01, Fri 05 Apr 2019.

Stepping back as close as he can tolerate to the flames, Rolf begins casting a simple, but direct spell, concentrating on the small form of the box sitting in the middle of the inferno.  Though in his mind it is easy enough to accomplish the tasks, the many distractions of the present reality combine to make the process much more difficult than Rolf expected.

"Volitant!"  Rolf concentrates with all his mind, though the heat of the fire blasting like a furnace against his face foils his spell, forcing him to hold up his arm again to shield his face and eyes.

"Volitant!"  Rolf repeats, willing himself to focus, for the spell to work.  "Volitant!  Volitant!"

Finally, the box moves, slowly creeping out from the fire as it rises up from the ground.  Rolf staggers back from the edge of the fire, already drained from the minimal bout of casting, though there are few murmured sounds of approval from behind the judges table.

Attempting not to pay too much attention to his audience, Rolf puts a hand near the edge of the box, attempting to feel any residual heat from the inferno, though the box seems cool to the touch.  Taking it in his hands, Rolf turns it to look at each angle, noting that there does not seem to be any sound of any items clunking within.  It seems rather simple, just a wooden box with a lid, iron hinges and an iron lock at the front.


OOC:  That was just a garbage run of rolling if I have ever saw one.  Thankfully there were no crit failures.  The box looks like the one above, though less decorated.  Obviously, there is no key to make this easy on you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:26, Sat 06 Apr 2019.

Rolf has been pretty calm so far, he usually is in times of stress.  But he has a tendency to have his nerves spike all at once, rather than a gradual buildup over time.  With this in mind the moment he begins to cast he can feel all the eyes on him and struggles to focus on the task at hand.  Even though he has cast this spell many times, he screws it up repeatedly.

Finally after many attempts he utters "Volitant" with a bit of extra force and the box moves!

He feels a bit tired after the effort but is glad the task is over.  He bends down and touches the gilded box and finds it to be cool.  This is good, but to his disappointment it's locked.

With a sigh he knows he must cast another spell and wonders if he'll have the strength to finish this test.  It's unclear if there will be more after this and those miscasting may come back to haunt him.  It could really hurt his chances of seeing this thing through.

Stooping low he begins to waves his hands once more...

Rolf looks at the small box, knowing at a glance what must be done to get inside, though he is a little hesitant to expend the energy.  Still, if he wishes to win this competition, Rolf knows there is no other way forward.

"Reserare" Rolf whispers as he touches the small lock on the front of the box.

Though Rolf knows immediately his spell has succeeded, there is still something off, as if the lock itself is resisting his magic.  Still, after only a moment, the lock bends to his will, clicking into place in the unlocked position.

Rolf unclasps the front of the lid and opens the box, which elicits a few more calls of appreciation from the judges.

Within, Rolf finds only a small slip of paper on which is written.


"Excellent!"  Dehogue stands up from behind the table, stepping forward to glimpse for a moment at the small slip of paper before ushering Rolf on to the seats at the side of the room where the older man and the young girl already sit.

"Take a seat then, take a seat.  Excellent work!"

There is little time to do so much as to catch his breath before another box is put within the flames and the next contestant is in, a young man perhaps a few years older than Rolf.  His trial goes as quickly as Rolf, extinguishing the flames with a wave of his hand and picking up the box.  He examines it for only a minute or so before casting some spell or other against the hinge on the back, which at first seems to do nothing, though in the next moment the boy bashes the box against a wall, shattering the hinge all together, allowing him to open the back just enough to let his slip of paper drop free.

The nominees come in, one after another.  The next of them creating a giant pool just above the flames, which drops to create a massive torrent of hot steam which Rolf is just too late to avoid taking full in the face as it ripples out from the center of the room.  Though when faced with the box, he stares at it blankly for a few moments before setting it on the ground and simply mashing down with his heel at its center, over and over, until the whole thing is so mangled and broken that it is possible to retrieve the reward.  Dehogue laughs outright at this spectacle, though it is jovial and not derisive in nature.

"Resourcefulness is a boon to any mage."  he says with a smile, checking to ensure the note is still in tact before ushering him to sit in the chairs.

Rolf cannot help but realize through the process how much of an advantage it is to watch the others compete.  First, if he goes head to head against some of these others (and he has a hard time imagining he will not), he will already know some of what they can accomplish.  And while the others still languish in their spellwork, Rolf has been sitting in a chair, recuperating precious energy while the time passes!

Though many of the nominees succeed and through various means, others of them fail and fail spectacularly.  One of the men seems to want to accomplish the work using only water magic, first creating the pool above the fire (Rolf has the foresight this time to cover his face) before apparently filling the insides of the box with water.  Moments later, the wood form splits at the seams after the water inside freezes with some additional magic.

Here Dehogue leans eagerly forward, watching as the ice is melted away and the slip of paper is revealed.  "If you can read it on your first try you may move on."  Though apparently the ink has been smeared, for when the boy guesses 'Do?', he is led away, screaming at the unfairness.

The last of the nominees seems to be thinking along the same lines as Rolf had been, thinking perhaps that the flames are mere illusion, he dashes forward, his hands held low to grab the box mid-stride.  He has barely a foot within the flames before his face shifts to agony, though there is entirely too much momentum built up to stop his body.  Some of the judges gasp, many stand up in alarm, though the flames seem to flash into nothingness before the rest of his body even hits the ground.

"That was exceedingly foolish."  Dehogue chastises, his face stony though his complete attention on the incident betrays his concern.  Two members of the guild come forward, looking the boy over for a moment before lifting him up by magic.

"Take him up to the healers."  Dehogue sighs, brushing the three away with his hand.  "Make sure they look after his lungs, you never know with fire damage."

It is several moments more before Dehogue realizes that the first phase of the competition is over, and the seven remainders are waiting on him.

"Ah yes,"  The guildmaster starts as the door closes behind the injured man.  "Well, that can sometimes happen, very unfortunate though I am sure he will be fine."  His countenance slowly builds, the smile creeping back onto his face.

"And so we are here!  Congratulations again, for now we are five fewer and the challenge is only going to get more difficult as we go!  Three more tasks you will have to get through if you wish to win.  The first will be designed to test your observation, mental faculties and patience.  The second, your tenacity and determination!  Finally, the last will determine your courage, strength and skill.  Of course, you all know that there can be only one winner, therefore, at each step there can only be half of you to move forward.  At each step you will compete with someone else, and the first to accomplish the task will move onward!"

"Well."  Dehogue throws smiling glances at each of the contestants.  "Each of you received a slip of paper in your box, I'd ask you now to go to the door that matches with your number."  With the wave of Dehogue's hand, four doorways exiting the room sprout numbers on their fronts, one, two, three, and four.

Rolf stands with the others, walking towards the door with the '3'.  He throws glances about behind him, though it seems there is no one else headed his direction.  Indeed, when all the others have reached their destination, 1, 2, and 4 each have two competitors, while Rolf it seems, is the odd man out.

"Good luck then."  Dehogue smiles broadly at all of them, waving a hand with a flourish as he shouts.  "And begin!"

Unsure as to whether he is racing with the other six, Rolf pushes his way through the door into near complete darkness.  Halting his progress until he gains his bearings, Rolf stops midstep as the door behind him swings to a close.

Lights blink immediately on, revealing a room some twenty or thirty feet square.  The only two exits appear to be the one behind him he just entered through, and another on the far side of the room which is blocked with a heavy iron grate.

Just before Rolf is a wide table, on which stand seven bottles, ranging in size from a mere vial to a massive decanter.  On the wall to the right, several lines are written on the stone wall in dark black scrawl that continues all the way down to the flagstones and is just barely legible from this distance.


I have a table below with bottle location from left to right (one being far left) and bottle size (one being the smallest).

Bottle Location	1	2	3	4	5	6	7
Bottle Size	6	7	1	2	3	4	5

Firstly, roll vs. Perception-5.  Secondly, please describe any movements you are making.  If you wish to drink a bottle, please just give me the number, from left to right.

-Riddle adapted from Joanne Rowling

Rolf pulls off his unlocking spell and is glad to see it open the chest even if something definitely was at work trying to resist him, but his magic was able to power through.  He happily takes the piece of paper out and sees it simply says 3.  Which seems a bit strange to him that it wasn't something more elaborate.  But he shrugs as he is sure it will lead to the next test.

He is weary now and it hits him all at once.  The spells he cast may have not been all that dramatic, but they have taken their toll.  Fatigue from casting is a drag one feels bone deep and he feels it now.

He follows Dehogue's instructions and sits heavily at the table with the two other mages.  He nods their way but says nothing.  At first he thought they hadn't passed the test but is genuinely glad they did.  He of course wants to beat them for the spot in the order, but bears them no ill will.  If they passed this first test that means they have some skill in the arts of the arcane and he respects them for he knows how hard of a vocation it is.

Rolf rests quietly as the rest of the contestants try their best to reach and open the chest.  He watches closely the different skills and strategies the others use, some successful and some not.  He gasps audibly as the last tries to run headlong into the flames!  Sure he suspected they might not be real, but he was not about to risk it unnecessarily as this man did.

At Dehogue's command he stands and takes his place at position three.  He feels refreshed.  His mind is clear.  Rolf notices he is alone and is unsure if going it solo will help or hurt him, but there's no choice but to go forward so he doesn't think much more of it.  With a jolt at Dehogue's shout he stumbles headlong into the room beyond.

What greets him is a table and an intimidating array of bottles, flanked by a wall with writing.  Rolf smiles at the riddle as he loves riddles.  Quickly he reads it through.

"Tis a good riddle" he says as he scratches his chin.  "I think the best way to start is to unwind it from the end." he says to himself.

Two twins each are located one bottle from the outside.

"Two twins could be the tea or it could be two of the harmful vials as two of Epimenides, Sysyphus, or Tantalus could be related.  But from a previous stanza the largest and smallest are not harmful and the largest is one of the bottles one from the outside.  So locations two and six must be the tea."

To know that the largest and the smallest, have nothing for you to fear.

"I know the largest at location two is tea and the smallest isn't tea as both teas are accounted for, so it must either be the healing or the vial I need to drink to move onward.  But one would suspect the riddle wouldn't say directly that the smallest vial was safe if it was the one I need, so it must be the healing potion."

The potions to the far left, and it's brother to far right, Are different once you taste them, though neither will win your fight;

"The bottles at location one and seven are not the vial I need, or the jasmine tea.  They must be two of the harmful ones."

Know first, that the worst among them, though they are hidden with such deft, Can always be found to sit upon the placebo's left.

"The most harmful potion is either at location one or location five as it sits one left of the placebo.  Which I take to be jasmine tea.  It must be location five since it would be the third harmful potion."

"That leaves location four as the only location unaccounted for.  It must be the potion I need.  And location three must be the healing potion."

Wasting no more time, Rolf grabs the second smallest vial from location number four, uncorks it and drinks it down swiftly.

OOC: Rolf will move directly to the table and imbibe potion 2 at location 4.  If I can, after imbibing the potion I will take smallest vial at location 3 for possible later use.  He missed his perception check.

Grabbing the small vial in the dead center of the formation, Rolf downs it in one.  He finds that its flavor just slightly bitter, though he cannot feel any immediate effect he is aware of.  Still, Rolf is certain, and he runs to the far end of the room, slowing only to ensure that he doesn't rebound bodily off the iron works standing over the threshold.

Indeed, as Rolf tests the iron grate, he finds that his hand passes through it as if it wasn't there at all.  Smiling despite himself, Rolf rushes through the overlarge gate, pausing for just a moment just beyond to gain his bearings.

The next room is moderate in size, perhaps thirty yards square.  At the center, one of the elders of the guild stands.  She is a short, middle aged woman with thick black hair only just speckled with grey, a staff cradled between her two hands.  She stands directly beneath the one skylight in the roof, such that the sole source of light spills its bounty directly over her, ebbing away as it reaches the walls.

"Stop just there, thank you."  The woman says, quite unnecessarily, for Rolf has just become distracted with another contestant rushing through a wall, some fifteen yards to his right.  It is the scrappy young girl, soot still smeared across her cheek from the first challenge, breathing heavily, though her eyes are narrowed with concentration.

"Good."  The elder continues on, a narrow smile gracing her lips.  "Your next test is quite simple.  To win you must be the first to exit this room."  With a wave of her hand a rope appears, dangling down from the skylight above to just beside her waist, some fifteen yards away from Rolf.

"Of course,"  The woman smiles, giving the rope a gentle tug though it stays resolutely fixed in place.  "You shall have your obstacles, whatever each of you can manage, along with this."  Raising a hand again the mage merely flicks the mana around her into action.

The effect is slow building, a sweeping breeze of air around Rolf's feet that pulls up eddies of dirt off the floor.  However, within moments, the wind has increased to near gale force that batters Rolf around his right side and threatens to throw him bodily to the left.

"Good Luck!"  The Mage shouts from the center of the room, though the noise is all but obfuscated by the ever increasing whirlwind whipping about their heads.  "GO!"

OOC:  Even though we aren't in combat, we are going to treat this sort of the same way.  Lets do two seconds of action.  First I need 2 rolls, label them ST1 and ST2.  If you succeed your strength roll, you can act normally that round.  If you fail, you are knocked down from standing to kneeling, or from kneeling to prone.  If you wish to cast a spell (upon passing a ST roll), you must roll vs. Will-3 or your concentration will be foiled by the wind blast.  Max move in the wind is 1, attempting to run would likely send you whirling uncontrollably across the room.

Rolf chugs down the potion and pauses to see how he feels.  Surprisingly he doesn't really feel any different.  But the mage is glad his guess didn't poison or hurt him at least.

Knowing time is of the essence he bolts for the door to test the vial's results and reaches out to grab it but his hand passes right through!  Not wasting any time he strides past the gate to the other side.

What greets him is a fairly mundane room, with a light shining down from a high skylight upon one of the elder mages.  This one a precocious woman of advancing years.  Also visible is a single rope hanging directly from the lights source.  A tantalizing guide to the final test.

Almost instantly after his arrival the soot covered girl he met earlier makes her appearance as well.  It all happens so fast that before he knows it he finds he must make his way to the rope despite fierce winds that throw him about mightily.  The game is on!

Though small, Rolf isn't weak and he forces himself forward despite the wind trying to take him off his feet.  He thinks about trying to cast a spell, but his arms just won't work.

Without looking the girl's way he moves even closer and tries to cast again...

Rolf braces himself against the wind, attempting to take a step forward as he uses his magic to channel the mana around him.  And while he attempts to do both, it seems he is unable to really accomplish either.

Stepping forward with his left leg, Rolf is surprised by the blast of wind which catches it, forcing the foot wide, and Rolf does a half turn to face into the wind just to keep his balance.  The effort foils his concentration, spoiling the spell he had intended on casting.

The young girl to his side however, seems to be having an easier time with her spellwork.  Mana crackles and burns a short distance to his right, bringing a tinge of sulfur that is gone in a moment in the swirl of the torrential wind.

His mind singularly focused on his spellwork, Rolf forces himself to concentrate, pushing the wind and the competition out of his mind.  "Ianuae Magicae"  Rolf ejects the words through the whirl of air, his eyes moving upward to glance at the place he wishes to land a moment before the spell is complete.

It is then that he notices the grown male bighorn that is moving quickly in his direction, the wind at it's back making its footsteps long and erratic.

Crack!

Rolf had done the spell many times before, going from here to there short distances, willing his body out of the physical world to reappear a few steps away in nearly the same moment.  This was the first time however, he had attempted it in near hurricane conditions.

Rolf lands out of planar space, instantly confused and disoriented.  His stance, previously positioned to brace himself against the windstorm, is entirely off where he lands - for where he stands the air is entirely calm.  He manages to catch himself before falling, though the movement is sluggish and drunken.  Most of all, Rolf can't seem to shake the sense of motion.  Though he knows he is standing still, Rolf feels as if he is turning, his head seeming to create the sound of wind pounding against his right ear, though Rolf cannot feel it against his skin.

His heart racing and his mind kicked into a fever pitch, Rolf wills his body to move, reaching to the rope only a forearms length away from him for support.  For though Rolf is no longer facing the thing, Rolf knows that ram, and the girl herself are somewhere behind him, still caught within the effects of the blast of wind.


OOC:  Rolf's teleportation was successful and brought him to the center of the room, right where the rope descends from the skylight above.  You are still facing the same direction, which means both the ram and the girl are behind you.  You badly failed your body sense roll, though you managed to avoid a critical failure - roll vs. HT to be able to act normally on the next turn, otherwise consider yourself stunned, although you will remain standing.  You are no longer subject to making either ST rolls, or Will rolls in order to cast (though obviously if you are stunned you won't be able to).  Let's do another two seconds.

What a mad and chaotic scene that enfolds around Rolf and his rival magician.  He stands firm against the wind but the effort to stay upright and try to cast a spell is almost too much.

Just as he is able to get his Teleport off does his brain register a ram (of all things), that of the sheep variety, appear and charge down upon him!  At least where he was as he pops out of existence and reappears by the rope, staggering and dumbfounded.  He stares at the bands of hemp held tightly together that dangles idly though a gale swirls around them.  His mind is in fog but he shakes it off.  No matter how many times he teleports he just can't get over the scrambled brain feeling that almost always happens.  Fortunately the stupor doesn't last long, but still it's annoying.

Dammit that could have hurt me! he thinks irritably about summoned animal that meant him harm.  But there is no more time to dwell on the others mage action as he still needs to leave the room.

Rolf stares upward and sees the climb is daunting.  He knows he can't make the climb with his meager skills.  Not without magical help, but he's getting tired from all the castings effort.  However there is no choice to keep going and that means casting more spells.

OOC:  Rolf made the HT roll.  He will try to cast Levitate.

Knowing that the effort will likely tilt him towards the edge of exhaustion, Rolf presses his hands downward forcefully to the ground as he casts, shouting his word of power over the sound of rushing wind all around.

"Volant!"

Though he feels his muscles sagging with effort, his head aching with the efforts of the day, Rolf begins to rise up off the floor in a deliberate and quick movement, grabbing the rope on his left side as he begins to float upward towards the skylight.

Looking down below him, Rolf sees the ram shoulder his way to the eye of the whirlwind below and he is thankful that he did not waste his time attempting to climb the rope in the normal fashion.

But before he can give it much thought, Rolf has pierced through the skylight, pulling himself and the rope through the small opening above.

"Ah!  Excellent!  And in such good time!"

Guildmaster Dehogue claps his two hands together with glee, clearly entertained by Rolf's performance.  Rolf only wishes he could think the same way, for his breaths are now coming in ragged and inconsistent gulps and if his memory serves him, he still has another another challenge yet to complete.

The thought spurs Rolf's mind into action and he quickly looks around to as much information as he can as quickly as he is able.  He seems to be on the roof of the building, though there is a thick pyramid shaped layer of glass above him that seems to confine him to a thirty foot square.  Just outside the walls of the pyramid, he can see Guildmaster Dehogue along with the other elders, including both Dorn, looking as happy as Rolf can remember him, and the woman who had just been down in the last room, casting the whirlwind spell that had cost Rolf so much to overcome.  Just to her left, Rolf notices another older mage, this one with a bald head and short cropped beard, wearing fine, black clothing upon which is donned a decorated cross.  The most apparent thing about him however, is his disconcerted look and the single-minded focus in which he stares directly into Rolf's eyes.

"As you are the first to reach this last stage, you have the first option!"

Dehogue gestures with his hand towards a weapons rack just to Rolf's side, within the confines of the triangular glass.  There on the rack are several instruments of combat: a two handed staff, a short baton, and a buckler style shield among them.

"Too often we find as mages we find we must learn to protect ourselves from rival, from those who would abuse our power for their own ends."

As Dehogue speaks, Rolf notices a disturbance at the far side of the pyramid, near the skylight opposite his own.

"Your last task will be to overpower your opponent, up until the point that they yield or otherwise become incapacitated.  We ask that you moderate your powers with the intent to disable, rather than injure your foe.  Though we have many able bodied healers, we wish not to test the limits of their skills."

Ahead of Rolf, the small translucent cloud slowly shimmers, solidifying on the ground several paces in front of him.  Rolf recognizes him from this morning, the boy who had cast a cloud of water over the fire and then simply stamped on the wooden box until the frame gave way.  The boy, something close to Rolf's own age, seems worse for wear than Rolf.  Thin rivulets of blood dribble down the youth's nose and his eyes are reddened and agitated.  He wears little more than normal clothing, though his doublet is finely woven and interlaced with shimmering golden thread.

"You may choose one item."  Dehogue's voice seems completely unimpeded by the glass, for Rolf can hear the anticipation on every word.  "And when you have chosen, you must fight."

OOC:  Rolf is significantly fatigued and is now at 1/2 move, dodge, and ST.  The good news is that your opponent doesn't seem to be any better off.  He is currently kneeling and about 7 yards away.  The pyramid itself is 10' by 10'.  In your post, please state the item you wish to choose.  You have the option of a two handed staff, a shortsword style club, a lightweight baton, and a buckler style shield (DB 2).  A successful roll vs. IQ will tell you that the three weapons are magical, though the shield is not, though it will not reveal what spells the weapons have.  Include 2 seconds of action to start the fight for me, assume you start at 7 yards from your foe.


The decoration on the Elder's cross

"Volant!" Rolf utters with a wave of his hand.  Not a moment later he rises!  Drained from all the casting and feeling quite exhausted, he still has the presence of mind to grab the rope and take it with him.  Sure there are ways up that don't need a rope, but he doesn't want to make it easy for anyone that might come after him.  Though to be fair a climb with only the rope, sans knots, would not be exactly easy.

His body registers deep fatigue and there's still one more test to go.  Glancing downward he sees the ram land in the calm center of the storm and he's glad he's been able to avoid him.  All in all he can't really complain about his performance so far, but it is clear the barriers put in place will keep out most of those that try.  It very well could be that he could do everything perfectly but still come up short.  Which would be a vast disappointment.

Rising through the ceiling he takes in the domed glass pyramid on the roof and the mages just outside looking within.  He listens to the instructions from Guildmaster Dehogue and looks over the array of weapons.  Fortunately there is one he is familiar with, that of the baton.  "I'll take this" he says simply as he wants to get this fight over as quickly as possible.

He suspected he might need his levitation and used some of the last of his strength to keep it going.  Grabbing the baton he rises up and prepares himself for a fight, hopefully to his advantage from higher 'ground' as it were.  Though he has no quarrel with the man and his heart really isn't in giving him a sound beating, he knows he has to hurt him nonetheless.  Hopefully just enough for him to call it quits, but no more.

Rolf has come so far he doesn't want to come up short and plans on giving it his all.


This message was last edited by the player at 13:06, Sat 20 Apr 2019.

Rolf wills himself over to the weapons rack, his feet unmoving as they float just above the slate ground below.  Stopping for a moment at the rack, he chooses the light baton, a weapon which feels more familiar in his grip than any of the others.

Looking morose, Rolf's opponent too goes to the rack, selecting the staff, though its immediate use seems to be more of a walking stick than anything else.  Heaving, the man leans his weight against the stick as he bends down slightly to keep it in a two handed grip.

"Excellent!"  Dehogue shouts, though Rolf has a hard time seeing how that word really applies to the current situation.

Rolf is exhausted.  His opponent is certainly so, and likely has tapped into his own lifeblood to cast already.  Even so much as a novice fighter would likely crush either of them in their current state.  And yet here they are, squaring off to beat each other to unconsciousness, or otherwise to forfeit.  In Rolf's expression, Pitiful might be a much more apt word to describe their plight.

"Are you both ready?"  Dehogue asks, receiving a nod from Rolf and several moments of silence from the other before he finally pulls his staff tip up off the ground, holding it in a ready position with a mere tip of his head.

"Good!"  Dehogue shouts, holding two triumphant fists in the air.  "Then fight!"

Some several yards away, Rolf moves to close the distance quickly, holding his baton across his chest in a guarded position as he rises up into the air, and onward.

His foe does not move.  Instead he stands in his same location with a willful torpor, his eyes locked upon Rolf as the latter rushes forward.  Only too late does Rolf realize that it is the act of gathering mana...

The next moment, the staff crackles with sparkling energy, and Rolf's opponent points it forward, sending a thin streak of lightning forward that takes Rolf by surprise, hitting him in the right shoulder even as he attempts to move out of the way.

The energy sizzles and burns against Rolf's leathers, and Rolf's hand seizes involuntarily, though luckily he manages to keep his grip on his weapon as he continues his charge forward.

Again the staff sparkles with energy, as Rolf closes the last bit of distance, his baton slashing downwards in a vicious swing that crack!s against the mage's bicep.

The blow seems to affect the mage's aim, and this time the streak of lightning arcs wide, crashing with a shuddering BOOM against the glass pyramid roof and leaving a broad streak of light seared across Rolf's vision.

The two mages battle back and forth, Rolf slashing downward with his short weapon as his foe swings wildly up with two-handed slashes of the staff.  They seem evenly matched despite Rolf's advantage of height, for each of them is so exhausted that their blows seem to be imprecise at best, requiring only a small shift of weight for them to miss entirely.

Rolf grimaces as he renews his spell yet again, and he feels the slightest trickling of blood running from his nose onto his upper lip.

Holding his baton ready for another attack, Rolf is taken aback when the staff swings upward again at him.  He manages to get his weapon there in time to parry it aside, though when the two weapons meet, it is a hard impact.

Crack!

Rolf's baton splits at its center, the last half foot of the weapon cartwheeling away and clattering to the ground!

Despite his exhaustion and injury, Rolf's foe grins at his first turn in the fight.  Rolf reels somewhat from the sight, as blood has seeped into the cracks between the man's teeth, the flow from his nose now continuing in a steady trickle...

OOC:  That was 8 seconds of combat.  You were rolling at first, taking no damage from the lightning strike though you missed your dodge and then hitting all of your required parries.  You made your first attack, though got on a cold streak for a few rounds, and on this latest one your weapon rolled for breakage against the heavier staff.  You can continue to use the stub in your hand as a knife if you wish with crushing damage rather than impaling, or otherwise resort to your fists or spells.

Rolf rises up magically, knowing full well he could make a tempting target if his opponent has any ranged spells, but in his weakened state it was his only play.  He'll be especially enticing too since his flight speed is kinda slow and he doesn't have a shield.

He looks down at the baton and wishes he had a heftier weapon.  His fighting skill with it is decent enough, but without a shield he feels exposed as he moves at a relatively sedate speed forward.

Nearing his foe he sees his opponent gather himself for a spell!  A searing blue light gathers in the man's staff and streaks at an impossibly fast speed at him.  Rolf tries to roll away from it but he's far too slow and he numbly registers the electric jolt dissipate in his leather cuirass.  He finds wearing armor stiff and binding but as a last resort it can save your life.  And fortunately for him it absorbs the spells energy this time, the next he might not be so lucky.

Undeterred he keeps moving to close the distance and is able to whack the man on his arm just as he releases another bolt that thankfully is thrown off target.

Blows ring out as he exchanges more strikes with the other mage.  Despite having the advantage of higher ground, the fight is evened by the man's skilled use of the longer staff.

That is until his baton swings to once again deflect the staff away when it is hit in just the right spot to cleave it in two!  Briefly Rolf and the mage's eyes meet and in that brief moment both know this will be a turning point in their battle, one way or the other.

Still gripping what is left of the baton, Rolf flies moves forward to close within the effective fighting range of the longer staff.

Rolf lowers himself somewhat, trying to press forward and subdue his foe at close range.  The mage seems to take the bait, swinging out as Rolf approaches, though the staff flies errantly, allowing Rolf to do little more than shift his weight to completely avoid the blow.

Seeing his opening, Rolf dives forward, moving to grapple his foe to keep him at short range, offsetting the benefits of the longer, bulkier weapon.  However, Rolf misjudges his lunge.  Perhaps he is overzealous in the control of his spell, or perhaps he just anticipated the man to stagger backwards rather than to the side.  Either way, as Rolf rushes forward, his hand outstretched to grasp his foe around the waist, he finds his target receding, sidestepping away as Rolf scrambles his concentration to quickly turn himself midair and face his foe again.

But the spellwork his slow, and Rolf can hear the the ragged, grunting wheeze of effort and the whistling swing of the staff... he anticipates the sting of the blow long before it hits, but hit it does.

Thwack!

Rolf sucks in on his teeth, as pain courses through his left side.  He is immediately thankful for the hardened leathers, for without them surely he would have sustained cracked ribs or worse.

"Oh!"  Someone in the crowd gasps as Rolf turns to face his opponent, his teeth gritted against the pain.

Rolf exhales forcefully, staring down the foe whose chest heaves in shallow, rapid beats.  Blood dribbles off the man's lip, splattering weakly against the ground and his eyes are red spiderwebs of exhaustion though they seem to gleam with a hint of their victory...

OOC:  Just two rounds of combat that turn.  Rolf's attempt to push his foe back towards the glass pyramid proved mostly successful until you attempted your grapple.  Your critical failure resulted in exposing your back to your foe which disallowed a parry and the dodge (at -4) was near impossible with your status at half dodge.  You've sustained a moderate crushing blow to the left side, though luckily you are not stunned.  You are in shock however and attack (or do any other non-defense skill) on your next turn at -4.  Please roll vs. HT-2, if you fail, you lose 1 FP due to exertion.  As you turn, to face your foe, your left side will be towards (and next to) the pyramid wall and the adjacent wall is 2 yards behind you.  Feel free to give me continued general intentions for the fight or round by round as desired and I'll keep moving us forward.

Rolf knew that without a shield he was a disadvantage, and that's not even considering all the castings he's done.  But he had kept his flying magic going that he felt more than made up for it.  In fact he felt pretty confident going in.  Nonetheless he holds the man in high regard as his staff skill has been pretty impressive so far, erasing any perceived advantage Rolf thought he had.

With his broken shaft of wood he changes tactics and tries force the man against the glass wall and grab him close.  But he misjudges his lunge badly and gets off balance exposing his side, enough so that he feels the man's staff hit him hard.  Again he's glad he's wearing leathers, but still that really hurt.

His breaths come in short bursts as he backpedals away.  Entirely exhausted and now grievously hurt, he's in a tough spot.

He steels himself for the man's next charge.


This message was last edited by the player at 01:27, Wed 24 Apr 2019.

Knowing that he has little time and energy left to commit to this fight, Rolf hovers himself backwards, staggering to regain his composure after the devastating hit.  But the other mage rages forward, the staff gripped in two hands and swinging wild, savage strikes that leave open his defenses.

His baton now only half-sized, Rolf never the less meets the swing, his weapon ringing out with a hollow and high pitched thwack! as it vibrates in his hand.

Frantically, Rolf wills his magic to assist him, gesturing lightly with his off hand as he murmurs "Deturpant!" under his breath.  Despite his need, the spell fails and Rolf feels the mana rend through his body like needles, leaving an acrid, coppery tang burning in the back of his mouth.

Crack!

As Rolf's thrashed baton meets the staff again, it can no longer take the strain, severing yet again just above Rolf's hand.  He is left with nothing but a few inches of Aspen, barely protruding past his index finger.

Heaving in front of him, the young mage grins widely, the staff tipping forward, forecasting another strike.

OOC:  I'm not entirely sure I like the rules on breakage here, and I might make a house rule making it a little more reasonable.  However, you are still left with about half of what you had before, or essentially just something the size of a hilt.  You can use it if you wish to add +1 to punch damage, and if there is anything else you can thing of (chucking it at him) feel free to give it a try.  It's become clear to you that the mage isn't really attempting to defend himself, preferring instead to use everything he can in attacks.

Rolf is desperate.  He attempts to pull from deep within himself to cast a spell, one that will make a surface slippery, but fails.

Instinctively he raises the shred of what's left of his baton to ward off the man's staff, and it breaks again as he is just able to protect himself from being hit again.

Weaponless and without options, he rushes forward in hopes to knock his foe off balance.

OOC:  Rolf will drop what's left of the baton.  He will fly down and forward and try to slam (Campaigns 371).  He will try to do enough knockback damage to cause him to fall.  All out +4 DX attack.

I think the 3x weight rule is fine.  If you try to parry something greater than that there should be a chance it will break.  But a 2 in 6 chance is too high.  As well whatever the chance is, it should probably be a sliding scale that increases when it's 4x, 5x, etc...

Rolf hovers forward, dropping what little remains of his baton, his shoulder set to slam into his opponent.  He realizes as he moves however, that at his spell's modest speed, there is no way he can expect to knock his foe onto his back.  Thinking on his feet, Rolf grabs out with his hands as he approaches, gripping his foe's right bicep and along his back, keeping the range too close for the staff to be effective.

The mage spasms wildly, trying to break the grip, though Rolf manages to hold on, swinging slightly to the right as he maintains his grip...

OOC:  I don't think slam is a viable attack with levitation (since you don't have any leverage, nor can you build up any speed to attack) so after you passed an IQ check, I opted for you to simply do a two armed grapple, which you succeeded with your all out attack.  You currently have the mage's right bicep grappled with your left arm, and his torso grappled with your right.  He attempted to break free on his turn, though he was unsuccessful.  That was just one round of combat.  Lets do another two rounds.

As the mage surges forward to body check his foe, he realizes he just doesn't have the momentum or leverage to do any real kind of shove.  At the last moment Rolf switches tactics and yet again tries to grab the man.

His left hand somehow grasps his right upper arm as he just clutches on the meat of his flesh.  Immediately he pulls his other hand in a sweep that grasps his side.

"Got you now." he mutters softly as he grips him tight despite the man's desperate wriggling.

Looking to get a better hold of him, Rolf tries to wrap his legs around his lower trunk.

OOC:  Being unarmed he has few options so grappling is fine.  And it makes sense that his slam would be weak from his levitation.

Seeing as he's floating Rolf will all out attack at +4 and try to wrap his legs around his torso/waist.  Once he has him wrapped up with both arms and legs, he'll release his right hand and all out punch at +4 to hit, random hit location.

This message was last edited by the player at 02:09, Tue 30 Apr 2019.

Grinning, his victory seeming sure in his hands as his opponent can do little more than squirm in the close confines, Rolf moves to make the win official.

Using his feet and ankles as extra hooks, he attempts to wrap himself around the mage's body.  Though with little experience in grappling, Rolf finds that the task is harder than he had planned.  First he moves to wrap a let around the mage's thigh, though he finds he has little purchase there and his grip slips off with the jostle back and forth.  Again Rolf tries and fails to gain purchase with his feet, though neither does the other mage manage to make any gains in breaking Rolf's grip.

Finally, on Rolf's third attempt, he manages to keep his grip long enough to hook his feet together behind the mage's back.  His smile breaks wide across his face as he drops his grip across the man's shoulder, readying his fist to pummel the man into submission.

But that is about as far as Rolf gets...

Pain.  Exquisite pain wracks through Rolf's body as shiny sparks of blue flare before his eyes.  Every muscle in Rolf's body contracts, his grip upon his opponent long forgotten as his jaw is clenched so tight he wonders if his teeth might crack from the pressure.

Rolf is absently aware of the mage pushing away from his grip.  He seems more a wraith now than man, his face paled to eggshell white while his eyes swim in deep pools of black.  Blood foams from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth, though somehow the man still fights on.  He grips the staff with both hands, pausing for a moment as he readies for a strike.

OOC:  Unfortunately, even with the all out attacks, you missed a couple of grapples before finally making it on the third attempt.  That is also the same moment that the mage's lightning spell went off, damaging both of you.  You are not in danger of passing out yet, but you are stunned.  Roll vs. HT this turn to recover.  If you fail, you may roll again vs. HT on the next turn to break it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:08, Tue 30 Apr 2019.

Rolf is just able to wrap his legs around the man after a frustrating few seconds when his body goes rigid from a powerful electrical charge.

He hovers as his body still reverberates from the severe jolt, while the voice that runs through his mind rings strangely silent.

OOC:  I missed both HT rolls.  I don't think combat reflexes helps with physical stun like it does with mental stun.

Rolf wills himself to move but his whole body seems to resist.  His heart flutters in heavy, erratic palpitations, his breath seems caught, his eyes are tunneled and unfocused, his vision caught in a view of perpetual background while he sees the haze of his foe in a blur just in front of him.

Despite his stupor, time seems to slow down.  Rolf forces himself to breathe, the hazy fog slowly consolidating in front of him into the form of the other mage... his staff readied... his staff moving.

The staff whooshes within inches of Rolf's face, the breeze of moving air bristling the hairs across his forehead.  The near miss brings Rolf's attention back to the forefront as he hovers idly, his breath still coming in ragged gasps...

OOC:  Despite your stun, you managed to avoid injury.  Both of you guys were stunned the first round, and your foes attack missed on the second.  I rolled vs. HT for you to break your stun on the third round, which succeeded.  Give me one second of action this time.

Rolf is only dimly aware of his surroundings as it would seem his entire being has been rebooted and it takes several excruciating seconds before his body and mind come back online.

Air whips around Rolf as his opponent tries to bonk him again with his staff, but he too is suffering from the effects of his own spell and is too clumsy to swing it effectively.

With a start he comes to his senses and immediately tries once more to grasp and pummel the man.

OOC:  I will stick with trying to all out attack +4 to hit with DX grapple with both arms.  If I succeed then hold with one hand and punch with the other.  I won't bother with my legs as I don't want to give him time to get off another spell.

Rolf rushes forward, his hands reaching out at his foe and gripping at any bit of flesh or shirt that he can manage.  The mage seems taken aback, reeling as he pushes away with his staff, though Rolf finds a hold at the man's side and shoulder, gripping a bit of loose cloth on his sleeve.

The mage thrusts his staff out with vigor, trying to shove Rolf away again, the wood digging into the leather at Rolf's ribs though with a massive effort he manages to keep hold, pulling the man tight enough for a solid punch to the face.  Rolf releases with his right hand, rearing back with his arm before swinging wildly with a right hook, which connects with force against the mage's temple!

Without even hesitating, the mage collapses like a sack of flour, pulling Rolf down and forward.  Rolf stumbles down to his knees as he releases his grip, his breath catching and ragged as he drunkenly sets himself up for another attack.

But the mage below is pale and bloody, his eyes closed and unresponsive.

Rolf kneels for several moments, blood and sweat mingling on his face, his ears hearing only what seems unimportant distant echoes beneath the heavy thud of his pulse and breathing.   Slowly, Rolf's exhausted brain catches up to the present...

The pyramid ahead of him has gone.  Other men are kneeling now in front of him, looking onto the other mage.  A hand grips Rolf under the armpit, pulling him upward.

Rolf pushes himself absently to his feet, looking to his left and only then does he register Dorn, the wizard he has been apprenticed to for all this time, pulling him upward with a beaming grin from ear to ear.

"Congratulations!"  Dorn cheers, the first real noise that has registered to Rolf for several moments.  He can feel the cool rush of mana flowing from Dorn's grip, the spell sturdying Rolf's legs and sharpening his focus.

"Congratulations indeed!"  Guildmaster Dehogue smiles from several steps ahead, walking forward as he holds out his hand to Rolf.  "Congratulations and welcome to our ranks as a full member."

OOC:  Congratulations!  I thought you were toast once your baton was broken, though you managed a few, incredibly lucky rolls (including taking no damage from the 2d lightning blast while your opponent took 6HP) to just barely outlast him.  Feel free to make a last post here before I close up the thread and get to rewards.

Rolf's mind is a dull haze, his arms hang heavy and his feet move as if stuck in mud.  But there is no time for rest.  Despite wanting nothing more to sit, or better yet lay down and sleep for hours, he must keep fighting, but how?

His baton lay broken in bits all round him leaving him weaponless, his reservoir of spells empty and he faces a determined foe still armed with a sturdy staff.  He has worked so hard and the end is so close he can taste it.  But he feels the door shutting...

Armed with nothing more than just his hands he surges forward and grasps desperately as his foe vainly tries to shove him off with his staff.

His fingers somehow grasp the cloth of his shirt and he hangs on with every fiber of strength he has.

Instinctively he throws a wild haymaker that somehow connects with the soft part of the mages skull.  His arm raises for another blow but Rolf's mind clears enough to register the man crumpled in a heap at his feet.

"Is it over?" he asks weakly as he is helped to his feet by Dorn.  Ending so quickly, Rolf is bewildered that the fight is won, especially as his body is still in fight mode.  Rolf's eyes flutter as he feels his benefactor touch send much needed vigor his way.

Full member?

Rolf is left speechless.  After his baton broke he felt he didn't have a chance to win the fight.  The other mage was well skilled in combat, enough so that he should have been able to batter him mercilessly.

He grasps Guildmaster Dehogue's hand firmly and notes a bit of soreness in his own from the punch he just threw.  Finding his voice again he says "Thank you.  That was a tough fight.  The other mage has my full respect."

Not sure where he will go now, he keeps quiet and looks to Dorn and Dehogue for cues on what comes next.

OOC:  Definitely got lucky.  Rolf's unarmed skills aren't great.  I thought this fight was over the moment he missed two HT rolls.