The Zenganshon was held loosely at the player's side as the blademaster waited anxiously at the field he'd chosen. Pale light from the moon reflected off it, sending a gleaming beam across the shadow of barren hills. A fluttering noise behind him brought the blade upward in a slash, bringing it through the foe that had decided to try and pester him at this field. Pieces of the moth fell, sending the myriads of heavenly lights back into Dien's eyes off shiny surfaces before they faded into nothing, leaving the short, stiff grass below. Resting near the horizon was that moon, the full moon that illuminated the field well.
Alone he stood, in an open land that was relatively flat. Rarely a bump or slope would cancel the moon's light in a shadow, but it was a rare event at best. Wind whistled through the night air, and the starry night was interrupted by clouds who scurried across the sky, almost in fear of what was to come. The moon was covered and uncovered as he watched, with each cloud's silver lining taking its place as giver of light during this night. The air had a distinct chill to it, and the quiet ambience of the wind's eerie whistle gave Dien the sense that a storm was coming. Whether metaphorically or literally, the battlefield he chose would soon become hazardous.
Why he'd chosen this field was unclear to him. The flat surface would hinder stealth and secrecy, but the relative darkness would supplement its cause. The two aspects negated each other, leaving this field to be no more ideal of a fighting ground than were the duel to happen in the middle of Mac Anu. Still, here he was, and the one thing he still needed for the fight to commence was missing: his opponent.
Blue Fox had been his sparring buddy for two rounds now. The first round, Dien found himself knocked out by falling back into a persisting Gan Zot, and the second round had ended abruptly with the collapse of a glacier. In any case, this duel would be an interesting one. He had leveled up since the last time, and would now be a match for the long-arm in terms of spellcasting power. He'd also been able to borrow the sword he now held from a friend, and with it came a pair of new skills that might even be of use to him.
A sigh escaped his lips as his body flooded with unease over the threatening night. Waiting was the only thing left for him now; he had never been any good at it, and this night was no exception.
SP: 25/25
(OOC:Sorry, but I'm going to have to concede this battle. I don't know if I will have enough time in the near future to continue for the next month (going on a trip to a family member...for a month). Once again, sorry.)
Then I decline the win. I don't want to take a win from my opponent when he couldn't show up.
(OOC: have fun with your relative)
Since no one wants the win, I guess this duel is a draw.
