Round #1, Duel #7
Fighters
![[Winner] Cornelius Nullifier of Implings (Warrior #8664)](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fd1r5zyaic2ukn.cloudfront.net%2Fpages%2F672feda0-f853-4801-b3e2-3bb17c67b48d%2Fresources%2F1216724d-2e17-4051-80f1-1a69813986b4%2Fef3eec51-b3b4-438a-8a60-24eb5f81c3ab.png&w=1920&q=100)
Charlie Crusher of the North
Regret. Charlie had been trying to live with it. But that shit was hard. Why did she have to leave? Could she have helped? She SHOULD have helped. Charlie couldn’t really think about anything else. It had been months since that tragedy. In a few minutes all that she had ever cared about, all she had ever loved, had been swallowed by the sea and wiped out of existence forever. Her birth place, her home, her friends and her family all gone. A catastrophic earthquake had hit the peninsula south of Fort Turtle, wreaking havoc and fragmenting into lifeless rocks what once was fertile and beautiful lands. Only a few survivors managed to escape and scattered across the Runiverse in search of a new home.
“I wasn’t there to help…” She had left the city to on the impulsive desire to join the Armada, a grassroots coalition in the Wild fighting to stand up against the frequent goblins and kobolds. “Why? Why would I leave to help some faraway land? I was needed here” she tormented herself.
But maybe there was hope. She had recently heard about a tournament taking place not far from her camp. A city called BlackSand was inviting warriors to compete in duels. Gold coins to be awarded to the winner. “Maybe I can bring everyone back. Maybe I can help rebuild with that gold. Maybe I can still make a difference” she thought while reading the tournament advertisement.
With enough gold she could lay the foundation for a new community. Gather back everyone that had fled and give them a new home. Their new home.
Those thoughts gave her a new meaning. “I need to win!”
Resolute, she pulled up a map and tracked the path to BlackSand with her index finger.“ This should only take a couple of days. I can make it in time” she said as she evaluated the journey ahead. The most direct route would take her through a challenging mountain path in Skylord Rookery. But she didn’t care. She had to get there fast. The Tournament was about to start.
She quickly wore her brown armor and with a swift move she lifted her heavy iron hammer and shield. She was ready to go!
She stepped out of her tent and the cold winter air filled her lungs. Rain was pouring as that hideous monsoon pursued through the night. She had grown used to that, but still hated how wet and humid those lands were.
The forest around her looked intimidating: the wind was howling through the trees and some monster was roaring close-by. But nothing could intimidate her at this point. She had found her new cause. A reason to keep going despite everything that happened. A path to hope. Her own way to stop regretting.
Cornelius Nullifier of Implings
“This is just not it” Cornelius shouted as he smashed a pile of documents onto his desk. “How could anyone be ok with this?” he let himself sink into the plush, leather office chair behind his glass desk. “I’m fed up”.
He was sitting on the top floor of Mira tower. The most expensive commercial real estate in town. He looked outside of his corner office. He had made it all the way from intern to partner at his law firm in less than seven years, exceeding any records of career progression. “For what?”
In Cornelius’ eyes the justice system just didn’t work. The dream of spending years fighting for what was lawful turned into a slow defeat of compromises and politics. Criminals could easily find loopholes and take advantage of a broadly defined Law. Innocent citizens often fell for fraudulent actions that he, as a lawyer, could not help avoid.
His career had been a successful one by any standards. Partner at a law firm, a corner office, a penthouse in Downtown, luxury cars and expensive company. Yet, he felt powerless. He felt that Justice kept slipping through his fingers, regardless of his efforts.
He slowly passed his hand over his red tie: the symbol of corporate power that only partners were allowed to wear. He laughed. He wanted real power, not just some status at a law firm that had no business in enforcing justice.
Throughout his career Cornelius had learned that lawyers could only make a difference within very strict boundaries. And that wasn’t enough for him.
He picked up his phone and quickly speed-dialed a number he had saved a few weeks ago. It was time to make a change, and he knew just the guy he needed for the job.
A few months later Cornelius was a different man. He was now a warrior. Someone would define him as a mercenary, but he liked to call himself an executioner for hire. Still wearing his business suit with a goblin sword and gladiator helmet, he roamed around the Wild taking on jobs to execute criminals and bandits. Was that lawful? Debatable according to Cornelius. Did he enjoy it? Absolutely. What mattered is that he finally was in a position to hand out Justice. He was in a position to make a difference.
His latest gig had brought him closer to BlackSand. As he walked the dusty streets, a floating advertisement board passed by him announcing the start of a tournament. Intrigued he decided to learn more and headed towards the fighting arena. There was nothing he did better than winning a fight and getting paid for it.
Duel
As usual Azazel woke up early that morning. Still dark outside, he made his way downstairs towards the large dining room on the seventh floor of the Obsidian Tower. “Ah the Obsidian Tower…” Azazel sighed nostalgically. The tower was the very last building that had survived through the catastrophe that turned Imperium into BlackSand. But little remained of its former glory. It once was the very center of the most prolific city in the Runiverse. It used to host kings, queens, artists, philosophers and scientist. Most importantly it used to be a sacred gathering place for all Wizards.
Shaking his head trying to chase those thoughts away, Azazel made his way onto the streets. He was headed to the tournament arena: The Astral Plane.
That day he decided to take a slightly different route and to pass by the small market on North Street. A few merchants were setting up shops trying to sell anything from produce to luxury goods to visitors of the Tournament.
As he was walking by, he noticed some unfamiliar faces: a fisherman was displaying some fresh catch and a new jeweler was selling beautiful necklaces. Another merchant was setting up a cart full of small dolls, with a little bunny jumping around him. He was quite pleased to see more and more shops open up.
A few hours later Azazel finally made his way to the fighting pit. Another great fight awaited.
“I welcome Charlie Crusher of the North and Cornelius Nullifier of Implings. May the best warrior win!” Azezel announced, excited to see a growing crowd on the bleachers. And the duel commenced.
On one side of the arena, Charlie was wearing a brown armor and holding a heavy hammer and iron shield. On the other side, Cornelius was proudly swinging his goblin sword. In an unusual attire, he was wearing a full suite with a red tie, topped with a gladiator helmet.
Charlie looked nervous, as she had something to lose. As soon as Azazel announced the start of the duel, she charged. She swung her hammer hard aiming for Cornelius’ helmet. But Cornelius was fast. He dodged, pivoted, and stroke back with his sword. Charlie was ready. She lifted her shield and parried easily.
She tried another attack, this time swinging her hammer towards Cornelius’ legs. He dodged again, but slower this time. Charlie saw an opening, swung back hard, and hit her opponent’s left shoulder.
The crowd gasped, as a loud bone-crushing sound filled the air. Cornelius yelled in pain but didn't’ pause. Sword still firmly held in his right hand, he attacked.
He swung left and right and forced Charlie into a defensive stance. He then jumped to the left, looking for an opening on the opposite side of Charlie’s shield. He saw one. And he struck.
Charlie had just taken a step back to recover from the latest strike, and her defensive stance broke for a moment. Cornelius struck hard and Charlie could only partially evade the hit. The sword cut deep into her right arm, just above her elbow.
She screamed in a mix of pain and frustration. Blood was flowing down her arm. She looked barely able to hold onto the sword. Yelling she tried to respond with another attack. But the wound slowed her down. As she charged, Cornelius dodged and pushed her to the ground with another strike, this time aimed at her back.
The crowd screamed in surprise at what looked like the end of the fight. But Charlie slowly stood back up, blood now flowing out of her back too. Seriously injured she broke a small smile. “I have failed” she let out, dropping her hammer and shield to the ground. She surrendered.
“Cornelius has won!” Azazel shouted. “Congratulations to our new champion” The crowd exploded in cheers as Cornelius ran in triumph towards the bleachers with his goblin sword raised in victory.