Initiate Tournament Competitions (Rygan and Drake)

[Magus Syfer]

Rygan - Junior Thaumaturgy

The line of initiate thaumatugists weaved its way towards the gathered crowd of audience, led by the Master of Thaumaturgy, who requested politely from among the audience for volunteers to be poisoned and be cured. After a few minutes of awkward reluctance and sidelong glances, a few raised their hands, and accepted the offer. Gingerly, they were helped towards the gathered cluster of young thaums, who eagerly waited in anticipation for their turn to cure their patient of poison. One by one, the volunteers gulped down their vials of poison, specially prepared to act slowly in the victim's body so as not to kill the volunteers too soon.

Five by five, the initiate thaumaturgists were given a go at curing the poison, with a 30 minute timer for each. After each successful attempt, the cured volunteer would be replaced by another willing volunteer, as the crowd soon became more willing to help in the competition after the initial unease at the thought of being poisoned.

The Master Thaumaturgist gathered the group of initiates and listed to them the rules.

"You are to attempt to cure the volunteers of their poisons. If you should fail, you are out of the competition. However, if you do succeed in curing them of their poison, then you shall be able to participate in the next round of competitions. Now, the first five initiates are: Rygan Nebarska, Ja'n D'oe, Pris Heltin, Sang Kin and Mickel Drovst."

As their names were called out, each initiate stood forward, to accept their charge. The contest for them had begun in earnest.

Rygan was paired with a portly gentleman, whose breath was pungently overfilled with spirits and beer.

Drake - Junior Sorcerey

The line of sorcerors traipsed through the combat field to a corner, wherein lay numerous boxes, each with brass clasps and locks. The Master Sorceror Eshlaheir halted the troop of initiate sorcerors before the boxes, and pointed to them.

"Before you here are boxes of various kinds. Thanks to the locksmiths of Vers, we have been able to obtain a variety of locks for you young mages to pick. First of all, we shall have each of you take one of those boxes and unlock them. You have half a candlemark to unlock a box successfully."

Drake, along with his fellow initiate Sorcerors, frantically jumped forward to grab the smallest boxes. A few scuffles broke out, which sorted themselves out under the stern glare of the Master Sorceror. Soon naught could be heard but the quiet breeze whipping through the assorted mages, as they all concentrated on Clara, and unlocking their boxes.

[Rygan Nebarska]

Rygan had wondered exactly what the competition would consist of when he made his way through the line towards the center of the audience, excited that it was finally here. As he got closer to where the Juniour Thaumaturgy Event would take place, he closed his eyes and bowed his head, calming himself to near the state of Clara, but not quite as to still move with the line, and said a long and devout prayer to his lord, Ioannes, in his mind, offering his life for him and asking for strength, focus, and ability for the upcoming challenge.

Upon entering the ring, Rygan had returned to his normal state, calm, almost stoic, "Emotions will only hurt me here, this is no different than any other time I have casted, nothing matters but being focused on the task at hand," the Thaumaturge thought, he was determined to do this, if it came to the point of spending all of his Vis and collapsing to do it, he would do it without a second thought.

As his name was called, Rygan thanked Aetheria that he had the will not to partake of too much ale and liquor the previous night, as this would be extremely difficult with a hangover. He was also glad that he had been practicing his Thaumaturgy ever since he had learned it, and more intensely of late, though he gave himself the previous brightening to recover an make sure he was well rested on this day.

Rygan bid the other Thaumaturgists luck as they paired with their poisoned volunteers, of whom Rygan noticed he had been given a slightly large man whose daily habits seemed to consist of large amounts of alcohol. It was not a rare thing for the man to see, as he, even though he was a Thaumaturge now, still spent a fair amount of time in taverns, and as such didn't put him off one bit.

At the signal to begin, Rygan cleared his mind into an endless blank, his eyes seeming to lose all focus, or stare off into the distance, it was hard for the audience to tell. Upon achieving the state of Clara, Rygan gathered the Ara around him, neither going too fast for his ability, as he had a full half hour to cast, and a failure would only take too much of that time and his Vis, with which he then combined the Ara he had gathered to create Mana.

Once he had accomplished this familiar ritual, Rygan then shaped the Mana into holy energy to completely drive out and eradicate the poison within his patient. Once he had begun the spell, he would continue to focus completely on it, and if it proved difficult, Rygan's determination would show through on his face, as he would not quit until the very end, no matter what the odds, as he was very determined and intent on succeeding in this first real challenge he faced.

[Magus Syfer]

Though the nearby granstands offered some protection from the sun, many of the initiate Thaumaturgists, unused to the glaring heat beating down upon their backs, found it rather difficult to concentrate and successfully attain Clara. For most of them, they had neglected to further their own personal training after graduating from their Initiate class, and lacked the working memory necessary to keep up with the demands at hand under the pressure placed upon them by the regulations of the tournaments. A few had given up in disgust, no longer bothering to even attempt a third or fourth go at entering Clara and curing their designated volunteer of their poison.

The half of a candlemark drew nearer - ever so nearer to its close, whereupon the contest would end and the winner of that round declared. The audience watched keenly at the remaining Initiates who were still in the running for the Junior Thaumaturgist championship, numbering only a scant three, out of the ten that had originally entered. Each of them were a mask of determination, as they raced against time to finish curing their patients. The other volunteers, no longer needed since the rest of the Initiate Thaumaturgists had left the row of contestants to join the crowd in the shade, had already been expertly cured by the Master Thaumaturgist. The rest, as they say, was up to fate.

Anxious not to lose, Rygan continued with his determined efforts to cure the ailing patient, who had already manifested some symptoms of the poison. His face had began to pale gradually. Despite the cat-calls from the audience and the heat of the mid-morning sun, Rygan held onto Clara, and finally cast the spell to Cure Poison, releasing the Healing energy into the man and letting the constructed spell work its magic. If he was to glance around, he would see that the other two remaining initiate Thaumaturgists were equally successful in their casting, looking back smugly at him.

With a small gong, the contest was over, the time was up. The Master Thaumaturgist, in his flowing robes of bright gold, faced the contestants, a grin plastered on his face. "Congratulations. It would appear that we have weeded out the weaklings of the group, and now have three serious contestants left. For the benefit of our audience, the names of the contestants who will move onto the next round are: Rygan Nebarska, Pris Heltin and Sang Kin. Let's all clap our hands in applause.

Now, for the next round, the three contestants must strive to out-compete the other two to cure our volunteers of their blindness. The last one to do so will forfeit their right to vie for the junior Thaumaturgy championship."

So saying, he motioned forth the three volunteers he had found from among the audience. With a casual wave of his hand, more of an extravagant gesture than a necessary component of his blinding flash spell, he promptly blinded the three volunteers. They stood still, having mentally prepared for this state of blindness. Now, each of the three contestants were then directed to their designated volunteer, and allowed to cast their spells.

[Drake Stormbringer]

Listening to the pale elf speak the first sentance Drake's mutilated face lit up with a smile. Open has proven to be quite a valubale spell for him since he had finished his training. In a city such as Vortex one was wise if he locked the socks on his feet to prevent some thief from taking them off him, and up in the mountains every sock count. Getting the general direction of this event the Giant calmed himself down and started to work his way towards Clara he took the well troden road to the mountain stream, adding more details to the scene that represented the Astral Plane to him.

Trying not to rush himself, knowing very well that haste will not bring speed in a matter such as this, he took deep relaxed breaths until the connection between his mind and the astral plane was established. Staying in his place of origin, not running of with the rest of the competitors, he simply smiled again as he saw them all wasting their time and over exciting their body when the spell could be cast from a distance perfectly well. Working steadily the Giant drew upon his own life force and combined it with the fabric of space, Vis and Ara respectively, to create the arcalysis.

After the arcalysis had occured Drake mixed in the final ingrediant, the essence of Force to create the desired mixture, otherwise called Mana. Working with the Mana to make a long strand of it, the Giant willed it to move into the box that was left for him when the rest of the initiates sprinted towards theirs. Inserting the strand into the key hole of the lock Drake move it about, moving the bolts and levers to imitate a key, preffering the gentle way of the spell rather the one of smashing the lock open.

After the spell was cast and finished the one eyed tower breathed in again and started his way into planar ascention again, not even regarding the other would be mages int his way. Treating the whole deal as a practice session rather then a competition helped him to stay relaxed, a thing that was crusial in initiate's casting, moving onwards to form the state of Meditation once again he did, doing his best to ignore interuptions from around him.

[Magus Syfer]

Drake

Time knew no place upon the Astral Plane, and those individuals immersed within the realms were outside it. However, in the journey to enter the Astral Plane, they had to undergo a lengthy time-consuming process of attaining Clara. Half a candlemark they were given to unlock their selected lockboxes, and half of that time was spent entering Clara, trying to ignore or overcome the incessant whispers and animated conversations coming from the crowd. The Master Sorceror took no note of the buzz coming from the audience; he had grown used to performing under noisy situations and had long since learned to ignore such things. This competition was a test, not only to see how successful the students were able to cast their spells, but also how they were able to react to their environment, no matter what the circumstances were.

Master Kei'naye Athyenes observed the Initiates before him with a keen analysing eye. Most of them acted like children, and children they were to him. They pushed and shoved, and fidgeted; losing concentration as soon as it was obtained. Only two individuals seemed to stand out of the crowd. One, a tall giant who stood far from the group, seemingly locked in concentration. The Master Sorceror looking to the pile of lockboxes, and saw one sitting all alone, the only one left after the others were taken. Was this the one the giant was trying to open from afar. Of course, it was quite possible to cast spells from a distance, but was slightly more difficult to do so. How interesting. The only giant in this gaggle of children.

Momentarily there was an audible click, and everyone from the audience hushed collectively. The other students who had yet been unable to achieve Clara whipped their heads around, looking for the source of the sound. No-one doubted that it was the sound of the first lockbox being opened. The Master Sorceror knew where it came from. It was the other initiate who had shown promise, a young elf. She craddled the lock-box in her lap, and shyly acknowledged the looks of awe and jealousy from the other initiates, and simply awe from the audience. The only people not awed by her performance was the Master Sorceror, and the giant, who was still locked in concentration.

A minute later, another audible click resounded through the packed corner of the field. It came from the lone box that had been left in the pile, the one the giant was concentrating on. The master sorceror nodded, pleased with the accuracy of his predictions. It would seem that two people would move onto the next round, after all. None of the other initiates stood a chance. It was already nearly the end of the alotted time, and the rest had yet to begin achieving Clara, clustered as they were around the elf-maiden offering their congratulations. The Master Sorceror sighed, Best not to drag this on longer than it needs to be.

He waved his hand, drawing the attention of everyone assembled before him. "Attention, people. It would seem that we have two intiates who have proven themselves proficient enough to proceed to the next round. These two will now compete against each other. The winner shall proceed onto the final battle.

In the next task, the contestants are asked to use the spell Lock on one of these lockboxes. After doing so, they will exchange boxes, and attempt to open the lockbox of the other's as fast as possible. The winner will be decided by who opens the lock first. In this next round, there is only one rule. No outright show of violence. Apart from that, no gates are barred. Let the final contest begin."

[Drake Stormbringer]

Sighing in relief as his box opened the Giant looked around, only to find another who had bested him. While this stage was not timed or anything, Drake still felt a bit disappointed in himself for not opening his box quicker. Moving towards the elf girl he forced a smile to his face, a thing that did not make him look friendly as it once did, instead it only deepened the scars on his face casued by the Nexusian gnomes and emphyisized the lack of his left eye. Leaning in over the crowd of inept initiates he waited until the girl looked at him and congratulated her politely.

After this small show of sportmanship was over Drake turned to listen to the esteemed mage's instructions. A genuine smile now crept to his mutelated face as the sorceror named the only rule. Nearing the judge quickly he took the box as gently as he could, he stepped aside with the box in his hand and closed his eyes. Taking in two deep breaths the Giant tried to leave the excitement of the tournament behind as he pushed on to achieve the state of Clara once more. Visualising the stream and mountains that, for Drake, symbolized the Astral plane he proceeded with care, weaving the strands of Ara and Vis and essence to create the desireable Mana.

Thankful for this familiar ground, seeing as both Lock and Open were spells he used on a daily basis in his home in Vortex, Drake started to shape the Mana into a bulky lock while keeping the route for the key intricate and complex to fend for the two obvious choices of the Open spell, both brute force and delicate skill. Before he signed off the spell he took another look at his creation, checking that everything was in order and that he had created a sturdy enough lock for the competition.

Before he passed off his box to his competitor Drake moved towards his bag and belongings where his long snake basked in the last summer's sun. Picking Solet off the ground Drake returned to his opposition, exchanging boxes with her and placing his serpent companion on the ground. While his master moved on to sitting and examining the box the golden snake slithered and hissed around the elven girl, circling her completely and slowly closing the distance between his scaly body and the girl's silky skin.

Thanking his good fortune that Solet knew what to do, it hadn't been the first time Drake used the snake like this in various negotiations or other situations where assertiveness was needed, the Giant just smiled cruelly to the elf and went on with his own journey to the astral plane. Creating the stream with the woods and mountains for the third and last time for today, hoping that Solet was continuing his effort to baffle the opponent. Drawing upon every bit of Vis he had left without causing himself harm he followed with creating the Arcalysis to combine it with the world's Ara and finalizing the process mixing it with the essence of Force taken from the Force plane.

Now looking at the box that his competitor had Locked just minutes before Drake was searching for any imperfections or weaknesses that the elf might have over looked. Hurrying with his only eye over the strands of Mana that made up the spell the Giant prayed to the patron god of sorcery, the arch acron, to find a glitch in his competitor's spell.

[Magus Syfer]

All pretence of sportmanship seemingly went out the metaphorical window. The crowded gasped as Solet the snake was produced from the Giant's bag, who then went into a meditative trance. Concentrating on attaining Clara as he was, he was oblivious to the situation around him, simply assuming that his pet snake would do its job. But as they say, the best laid plans o' mice and men ... (then they stop when they realise they forget the rest of the saying).

Thus it was with great surprise when a ripple of disturbance ripped him out of his clear state of meditation. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead, along his right cheek. A pebble lay next to his feet, a smear of blood on its surface. Next thing he knew, a scream came from the general direction where the other contestant sat.

Though Drake was ignorant of what had happened since he had entered Clara, the crowd was not. They had clearly seen the Giant take the snake out of his bag, and then settled down to meditate. Then the young elf, who's name was Felicia, oblivious to the snake, went about gathering a small pile of pebbles lying about. What better way to disrupt a mage's concentration than a well-aimed stone. Selecting a small stone, she aimed it at the giant, and flung it with as much strength as she had. Hopefully, he'd get a concussion, and be unable to enter Clara anytime soon. That was when the giant was ripped out of his concentration, and at the same time Felicia realised the snake slithering towards her. A scream inevitably followed.

Stone after stone were thrown at the snake, dwindling the small rock pile she had stockpiled. If Solet was not saved soon, it was possible that the poor innocent snake could be seriously injured.

[Drake Stormbringer]

Being woken up from a good dream was not a nice experience at all; especially when it was usually followed by the cold chill of night signaling one that his blanket was kicked off his body, or even more disturbing, the sight of other people with hostile intentions around one's self. Drake was not a stranger to either, for he had lived most of his life up in the freezing summits and peaks of the great mountains with his tribe, and the rest of his life was spent traveling, even into places were his kin wasn't particularly liked.

But being brought out of Clara wasn't at all like that. It was worse. It was a nasty yanking feeling followed by the disorientation of being on a different plain that you thought you were in. Shaking his head with his eye closed Drake tried to free himself from dizziness that came over him, opening his eye just in time to see the young elfin stoning his companion. You really shouldn't have done that you little brat, you really shouldn't have done that he thought as he leaned forward towards the girl with a smile that was usually reserved for gnomes. A cruel, mad smile, and in addition it showed something even more disturbing. Hunger.

Usually Drake stuck to meat from the animal and beastial kingdom, eating what he could find on his travels on near his cave near the Vortexian outskirts. But sometimes when he wanted to give himself a special treat or just when he could he'd hunt himself a gnome or a halfling, or two, and prepare one of his mother's recipes. But Drake considered himself to be a civilized Giant and therefore he did his best to shower at least once a cycle as well as keep an open mind. And to his open mind the idea of elfin stew seemed quite the novelty much to the girl's misfortune.

As Solet hastened his slithering, nearing the initiate more quickly now to get her in his formidable grip Drake was doing another thing all together. With a great thrust he sank both of his fists into the ground near his opponent, trusting his big bones and thick skin to protect him as best they could. Once he had created a hole he could hold he started to tear the ground below the girl in an effort to lift her with the earth she was sitting on. If succeeding with his attempt he would then hoist the would be mage into the air, over his head; otherwise the Giant would just hold the huge piece of ground over the girl's head until she'd stop throwing stones.

Clearing his throat Drake opened his mouth and spoke to the judge in his deep booming voice. "Is the act of throwing stone considered an outright show of violence? If so I demand that this mage to be disqualified on account of breaking the only rule of this tourney" looking dead serious until now a creepy smile crept to Drake's disfigured face "however if throwing pieces of the earth are allowed I'll let go of this here piece and continue with the event". Motioning towards the piece of ground he was holding, whether the girl be on it or beneath it, he waited for the judge's answer or any hostile move from the girl's part.

[Rygan Nebarska]

After what seemed like an eternity, Rygan lifted his head and began laying the groundwork for the second spell he had learned to cast. It had been quite some time since that day at the Delphi Ara Academy in Olympus, when he had finally begun to successfully cast spells in his chosen sphere.

Such memories gave the Initiate that much more determination and werewithal to prevail no matter what the odds. With his memories of Olympia fuelling his efforts, Rygan's mind once more went blank, gathering the components necessary for Arcalysis, the absolutely necessary reaction to produce Mana, the stuff all spells are made of. This he then shaped into the familiar old spell of Cure Blindness which he had practiced time and time again since the exodus forced him from Olympia, blinding himself and curing himself again, just to keep his edge, and do it faster and better as well. Rygan then hung in a determined trance, concentrating and focusing on successfully curing his partner, not exactly the fastest, for he would need some strength left should he make it to the final, which he had all intentions of doing, but to do it with sufficient speed to show himself to be worthy competing in the final. For him, to focus on anything beyond this round would be to put the cart before the horse, and, ultimately, doom himself to failure.

[Magus Syfer]

~~Drake~~
For all his intentions to drop the large piece of ground onto the elf maiden's petite head, such an act would be in vain. In the time it took him to brandish that large piece of improvised earthen weapon, the lithe elf had already jumped far away from the giant's reaches, and away from the slithering snake. She had picked up a thin branch that had lain within reach, and held it in front of her, ready to defend herself, useless though that would be.

The master mage sighed in response to the giant's bellowed challenge. Indeed he had set down the rule that no outright shows of violence were permitted. Though throwing rocks were quite violent indeed, and grounds for expulsion from the tournament, setting a snake to terrify an opponent out of clara wasn't too far behind. I should have given more thought to my wording of the rule. I had meant that they could use what method they required to lock or open their boxes more effectively or faster, not to disrupt their adversary's spellcasting. If I disqualify the elf maiden, the giant would win by default, which is necessarily a bad judgement, seeing as he used a snake to scare the girl. Ah... a headache of a dilemma.

Slowly unfolding his hands, he rose up from his seat, and approached the arena at a deliberate pace. The crowd and fellow initiates looked on with apprehension, none daring to utter a single word. Turning to the giant, and then to the elf maiden, he calmly judged them both, for that was his duty to do this brightening. Solemnly, he announced his judgement.

"Well, we're in a bit of a pickle, aren't we. Enough of your petty games. Though the elf maiden did break the rules, and as such deserves to be disqualified, you - my little giant sorcerer - are only slightly better. When I set the rule down, I had meant you could use whatever method you felt you needed to make your spells more effective, such as writing and drawing possible plans of making the lock or such things. In no way did I endorse violence in anyway, overt or otherwise. Please, both of you, seat yourselves and open the boxes. You have less than three-quarters of a candlemark left. Concentrate on opening your opponent's boxes."

Having finished his speech, he shuffled back to his seat, keeping a careful eye on the two contestants. If they refused to heed his warning, layered by his verbose lecture, he would have to discipline them in front of the crowd, if he felt it necessary. Idly raising one of his hand in the direction of the snake, still slithering towards the elf, he gently sent the creature skimming on air back to its master's side. No sense harming an innocent, ignorant life.

Meanwhile, the elf maiden had sat back, ignoring the giant and its serpentine companion completely, safe from the fact that the master would intervene if need be. If she was going to win this contest, if only to better endure this humiliating situation in the future, she would have to work hard to unlock the box, and quickly.

~~Rygan~~

As a matter of course, Rygan's quiet determination resulted in the victorious conclusion of him curing his patient first. Pris followed but a few minutes later. When the last contestant had completed his spellcasting, he realised belatedly that he had failed. Disheartened, Sang Kin exited the arena, leaving the remaining two contestants, with their cured patients. The master mage clapped heartily, and enjoined the crowd to participate in giving the two semi-finalists an applause.

"Congratulations to young Rygan and Pris, who will be duking it out in the next round."

A loud collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Behind the Master mage trudged a skeleton. A few fingers were pointed and excited whispers were enjoined, but none moved to run away, for they were all safe in the knowledge that if anyone were to be killed, it would be the master mage first. And if he was killed, they'd still have enough time to see the spectacle and run away to tell the tale. The mage turned behind, as if he had expected the skeleton. Motioning it to venture in front of him, and directly half-way between the two contestants, he moved to address the two contestants and the crowd.

"Calm down, please! I have acquired the use of this undead skeleton specifically for use in this tournament. No need to get all excited. Now, in this next round, both contestants will be engaged in a battle of will. They will be required to Turn the Undead away from themselves, and forcing it to go towards their opponent. Whomever gets in close contact with the skeleton loses, and as a matter of course the other wins. Now ready whenever you are."

With the conditions of the battle being set, Pris cautiously backed away a few steps from the skeleton. Though she felt the urge to remain standing upright while casting this next spell, nevertheless she knew that she would be more effective sitting down, and calmly enter Clara. The faster she entered and cast the spell, the faster the skeleton would move away from her and towards her adversary. So she sat down, and closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and calmly. Meanwhile, the skeleton stood motionless between the two contestants. The wind blew across the field, and the remaining few strands of its hair billowed with it, romantically falling across its vacant orbits.

[Rygan Nebarska]

Rygan's care not to foolishly overexert himself in the previous rounds had payed off, with the reward being a space in the finals. He now could afford himself all the strength he required to overcome Pris, no matter if he collapsed or not, as the Master would ensure that no harm come to anybody in this event.

The man, watching Sang get up to move back into the crowd, gave him a nod of acknowledgement, a congratulation and recognition of his prowess that got him as far as he did. Rygan then turned to Pris, his opponent in this final round in the tournament, and bade her luck, as it was the proper thing to do in such an engagement.

With the appearance of the skeleton, revealing what the final challenge was to be, Rygan gave no sign of surprise. Though difficult to find and control for those who are not Necromancers, it certainly was not impossible, and, though a bit more dangerous than the past rounds, it was certainly expected, as Thaumaturgy was not merely healing magic. He remembered his duties to Ioannes as a Thaumaturge, to protect the innocent and combat the evils in the world, including, nay, especially, Necromancers and their undead abominations.

The man gritted his teeth, forming his grim and all-too-real mask of determination, he was not going to just let himself fail, he would fight until his physical body collapsed from exhaustion due to the Vis he would expend. He was tempted, just for a moment, to cast Sacred Strike instead and destroy the skeleton, but that would be cheating.

Noticing Pris backing a short distance, and settling herself into a more comfortable position to cast, Rygan thought a moment over it. He knew that her position would allow Pris to cast faster, which would send the skeleton his way faster. He also realized that should a maneuver to avoid the creature and the subsequent loss become necessary, such a position would prevent it. Carefully thinking these and other factors, Rygan formed his plan, sheer effort and determination, which had carried him a long way in his life, weren't going to be enough this time.

Taking a few strides back from the skeleton as well, Rygan nodded to Pris and signaled to the Master that he was ready. Still standing, Rygan knew he would not cast quite as quickly, but to cast too early would ruin his plan. Gathering the necessary components of his spell, the man had his eyes open, ready to cast Turn Undead just after the skeleton started coming his way. He would give absolutely all he had in casting the spell, intending to override Pris's spell with his own, sending it back to her when she least expected it. Something Rygan had also considered before casting was that she may not give her all to her casting, making her spell possibly weaker than the one he would cast, all the better for him.

And so it was set, Rygan's strategy in place, he was ready for this final showdown in the Tournament. The wind, unnoticed by him, whipping his hair to the side, giving him a somewhat handsome determined, and somewhat wild, look.

[Magus Syfer]

~~Rygan~~

Pris was not to be underestimated. She was quite gifted and also passionate about her Thaumaturgy. She did not relish losing this bout of the Initiate tournament. After all the eras work and effort she had put into her studies, all the blood and toil her parents had gone through to ensure her future, she was not about to lose here. This was not her destiny!

She entered Clara, and interfaced with the mystical essences that powered the spells of Thaumaturgy, capable of giving life, and turning abominations of life away. Weaving her spell with ease honed from constant practice, she sent it towards the skeleton, engulfing it with the numinous energies siphoned from the Astral Plane. With grim determination, she willed the skeleton to turn towards the man, standing looking like a fool. A smile burst on her face. It would soon be time for her to take the crown as reigning champion of this tournament, soon enough. Thus would she bring pride and glory back to her family.

[Rygan Nebarska]

OOC: huh? I thought my post had already laid out my reaction and plans, oh well, I shall write it again

The situation would be by far more difficult for Rygan than anything previous this brightening, Pris was of a caliber that was indeed quite close to his own, whether that was slightly above or below, or equal for that matter, remained yet to be seen.

She was no fool either, Pris didn't get arrogant, at least not before the spell, and did not hold out, much. Yet she had not expended herself totally as Rygan intended to, so there was still hope that her spell may still have a slightly weaker influence, but Rygan didn't count on it, she was good.

As part of his plan, the young man had entered Clara and fashioned his own energies from beyond this existence to create a spell, though not quite as fast as Pris, yet it wasn't terribly slower either, as he had cast from a standing, or in one or two cases, kneeling, position ever since he had been unbound. He had never really given sitting much thought, as he figured that in an actual encounter outside the safe bounds of institutions and tournaments, one would very rarely get a chance to sit comfortably and cast the spell that could possibly save a life, including their own...

The moment he noticed the skeleton moving towards him, paying no attention to any other detail than the fact that it was doing so, Rygan finished casting Turn Undead, ready to give his all to succeed, he hadn't played this cool, saving himself for this, just to be second, to be the first loser, he had come too far. He would prove that he had not trained for nothing, and that standing to cast wasn't foolish after all, in that if he could not get his spell cast in time, he was ready to go into a diving roll followed by an all-out run, which had saved his pre-arcana life just a few times, perhaps leading the skeleton to the smiling, and perhaps still sitting, Pris Heltin, if it were to chase him...

OOC: heh, he's not gonna make it easy, even if it means resorting to evasive maneuvers instead of casting :P
oh yeah, EDIT: mispelled word

[Magus Syfer]

OoC: I thought that you were preparing for the spell, not actually casting it per se. And you're bunnying a bit with my NPC; stop touching her! She's mine, all MINE Though she might go out with you after the tournament, if you asked nicely...

As the impact of Rygan's version came into effect, the skeleton shambling towards Rygan shuffled to a halt. Had it flesh on its face, it would be twisted in annoyance and perhaps not a little bit of terror. Here it was, being toyed with two little initiate mages, yet there was nothing it could do. It certainly couldn't move, for fear drove it to advance towards both initiates who unfortunately were sitting on opposing sides of the skeleton. Strong arcane forces sought to pull the skeletal legs one way, then the other. A struggle for dominance had ensued.

Pris had indeed given all she had into this spell of hers. Yet, after minutes of seeming inactivity from the skeleton, she could feel the spell ebbing from her. She couldn't find the strength to hold on much longer. With a sudden realisation dawning upon her, mental curses resonated throughout her conscious mind. Oh FETH! I started too early. I can't keep this spell up for much longer. Once I let go, what remains of the giant's spell will continue for a bit longer. With a sigh of reluctance, she let the spell dissipate, and saw the skeleton resume its shuffling gait, turning towards the seated girl. Pris sat quietly, accepting her face. Her eyes watered, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Sorry Mama, sorry Papa! I tried my best, I really did. I failed you......... A river of tears streamed down both sides of her face. The skeleton reached Pris.

"Excellent news. It would seem we have a winner for this round. Rygan Nebarska, the winner of the initiate Sorcery tournament. He will be entering the next leg of the tournament, competing with the other initiate winners of their respective arcane sphere."

With a wave of his hand,