Medievia Mudslinger

September 18,2000

Player Killing - By Archsion

Hamanas the Warrior strode down the streets the City of Medievia, As an experienced veteran, he had seen many strange lands and fought many gruesome and terrible beasts. As he walked, he checked and re-checked that his sword was limbered at his back, ready to draw in an instant. The humble denizens of the city drew back in fear from the dark figure walking with the grace of a wolf. Like a spring coiled to unwind in a storm of violence, he strode down the streets. Suddenly, hearing a cry, he halted.

"Will someone please join me in my travels?" shouted the unknown person to his left. Hamanas immediately changed his direction to face that of the pleading voice.

"Wait but a moment. I will be there soon," he shouted ahead of himself.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Hamanas, Dark Knight of Nash."

"And mine is Durvant, Novice Warrior."

Hamanas smiled as he remembered his own days as a novice and the ever constant search for experience and skill in the many facets of life in the City of Medievia. Perhaps he would want to journey around the city itself, dispatching commoners and gypsy traders. He reached the area where the voice was. Looking around, he saw that whoever it was, had either gone or was invisible. Grabbing a gently glowing potion from his backpack, he quickly drank it, waiting for the effect to take hold. Seconds after the warmth from the potion reached his body, he began to glow with a ghostly aura and his eyes filled with silver. Looking around again, he saw a young warrior standing just to his right. Moving towards him, he stared at the novice, auguring him with his stare. The novice seemed nervous and managed to pull of a shaky bow, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Where do you wish to go, little one?"

"Just around the city please."

Hamanas looked at the novice and smiled. Perhaps they would walk throught the City of Medievia, dispatching Gypsy merchants and Commoners. "Follow me."

"Umm. Actually, I was wondering if I could lead please?" Hamanas regarded the lad carefully. He looked a worthy enough fellow to begin with and he had some good equipment.

"Alright," growled Hamanas, falling into step with the novice. The novice began to move towards the south, towards the city centre. As they walked, they passed many commoners and gypsy traders. Hamanas silently wondered where they were headed.

Hamanas felt a momentary confusion as they entered the portal to the Quarter of Arms. Durvant led him directly down into the Arena, the only place in the city sanctified by the Gods for acts of violence against other humans. Hamanas shuddered as he felt the jolt of his formed link between himself and the novice breaking. Grinning suddenly, Hamanas realised that this boy did indeed have some courage if he thought he could defeat a veteran. Hamanas did not object as he walked into the darkness although he knew that this was an illegal act of violence.

Surprised, as he stepped beneath the roof of the challenge arena, Hamanas noticed that there were no other people around, although there were normally many waiting for the unwary. Hamanas walked further into the darkness and was about to shout for the novice when he heard a slither of steel on leather. Drawing his sword, now grateful that he had been so careful to have it ready, he took a fighting stance and searched for the source of the sound. He roared in pain as he felt the warrior's blade slide into his left shoulder, neatly cleaving his armor through the armor.

Ignoring the pain, Hamanas quickly ate a darkmoon root and felt its ability kick in. Now able to see in the dark, he noticed the novice standing close to him, his bloodstained weapon held in one hand. Moving quickly, he plunged his sword into the back of the novice's neck, sending him sprawling across the ground. The novice lay on the ground quivering, his sword forgotten next to him.

"Remember this boy. Do not use deceit to slay, the warrior must be honourable and trustworthy."

Laughing harshly, Hamanas plunged his already blood-darkened sword into the novice's chest, ending his life. Giving the sword one last twist, he withdrew it from the corpse and walked out of the arena, victorious.