mr_e_s

Stark After the matter of the fortune, Stark had begun thinking about what he was really going to do with himself, as one was apt to do after having their fortunes read, albeit from a fortune teller without the skill to actually tell him his fortune.His plans had been to find work here, maybe he could get on with that. Honestly though it was less appealing now that he was actually here then when he was in the shit hole that was Alabaste. Stark had been around, at least around Arcya, he knew there wasn't really a better off place in his home country, bar maybe the capital, Carthica. It was where Eltiar hung his hat when he was home, too... Where had the old man gone off to this time? Perhaps he went back home, to Yuki. He never could stand to be away too long, after all. Even his rare visits to Oakheim were shorter then Stark would have liked. Always busy. Stark heard a voice amongst the voices, he didn't pay it much mind, but it got louder as it continued, and it became apparent it was directed at him "....a moment of your time?" Stark turned around to see a shorter man with berserker style armour, covering his left arm as well as his shoulder and core. He very much did not look the part of a berserker though. Stark didn't know many berserker with a belt full of tools, for instance. Perhaps his armour was just a way of modeling his craft, perhaps he was some variety of smith. And if he was a smith, he would likely be trying to sell Stark something right now. It wasn't an unlikely thing to happen, he supposed. Being a swordsman wandering through a town full of merchants, and kind of a bigger guy, not to mention the eyepatch, Stark probably stood out enough for someone to take note of, and he did pick up a fresh change of clothes earlier, as he was starting to stink, and the clothes were half the problem. He might look more moneyed then he actually was right now. Still, he wasn't particularly moneyed, and whatever amazing offer this guy had, Stark didn't have the coin to obtain it. best to just leave it be. "No thank you, I'm not buying." Stark turned and kept going, feeling the matter was ended there. Fuego Nothing. Not a damned thing. Fuego halfheartedly kicked the still smoldering remains of a support beam to vent his frustrations. So much happened here, and the fire, the fire took it all away, the evidence was all gone. Fuego couldn't really tell what took place here, except for the fact that a lot of people died, a fire was the main cause, and there were monsters around. But what had happened? Why were there monsters in the walls? This fire couldn't have been started by a goblin, there were too many points of origin for it. This was something not many people were capable of, Fuego knew that as a fact being one of them. But there was nothing he could do. He'd been here two hours with no real new clues to go off of. Wasting any more time here would probably allow this Stark to leave Corthrone, and then the hunt would get harder. Besides, he didn't like the thought of leaving Klints alone too long. He almost grabbed for his matches, but realized how needless that was. He felt around for the last dying embers of this city, might as well steal them away before they sparked back up anyways. As he looked around, pieces of furniture, of walls, of ceilings and floors, they began to move slightly towards him, until eventually little pieces of them broke off, each one containing a glowing orange center. With the fuel still attached, and the pieces all floating in air, it was really easy. All of a sudden the little airborne debris became tiny balls of fire. Just as suddenly, the tiny balls of fire merged together, becoming one admittedly still somewhat small ball of fire. And that small ball was beckoned to Fuego's hands.there it was nestled until it became of a reasonable size, and it was split into two tender pieces of living energy. Fuego took those two pieces, and held them with straight arms towards the ground. and as though it had been their sole purpouse, as he released them, they propelled him upward, and then forward, keeping up with him while simultaneously boosting him, all without the slightest touch. So much better then dirt surfing Fuego thought with a rare smile. Whistler Beaker, he was always good to me.Well, not always, but most of the time. Maybe he felt guilty for me. He's the reason I am like I am, after all. He was probably a braver man back then, at least, by my supposition. I think I might be a regret of his or something. He still calls me Tim. Not Whistler. Never unless he has to. Like if one of our superiors is around, or we're on official business together. I don't understand it myself, to tell the truth. I haven't been Tim for a long time now. I mean, Tim is a person's name, isn't it? I don't think I'm strictly speaking a person any more, not by my standards, anyways. I left people behind. I'm just Whistler now, if there was another of me, we'd be the Whistlers, like a new species or something. You remember Matthew? The kid with the ball. Yeah, him. He used to tell me I wasn't a he, I was an it. It actually hurt my feelings when I was young, but then, I suppose kids can be cruel. I honestly never gave it a lot of thought later on in life, but lately it's really been coming back to me, like at the start of a show with a twist. It's like, it meant something else when he said it, but now it really applies. I'm not a he any more, am I? I'm something else altogether. I guess Matthew had the right of it, maybe he was just ahead of the curve. Probably a lot of people out there that would call me an it now. Sorry, I got distracted. Anyways Beaker, he gives me some bullshit reasons why I couldn't do the job, something about a signal in the sky or something, I can't really remember, and then he offers to buy me dinner. I figure there's no reason to hold a grudge, right, 'specially when he's buying, so I do a little flip off this little gate thing the government building has, and I say "Just so long as their mixing's better'n yours!" Cause you know, he's chemist. We had a good laugh about it, the both of us.

Whistler "You know, Beaker, you could have just asked." I was waiting for him outside the only standing structure in Corthrone. I knew the good doctor well enough to piece together what he was doing from the little info he had. It's funny how little pieces of info can just find their way to you if you listen well enough. I've got something of a special talent for it, myself. Other people have different talents I know there's some guys out there who control nature or whatever, and a guy who can make the monsters of the world do his bidding or something like that. I can't really do any of those things. But I can listen, and I can get places I might not ought to be in. Y'see, my story starts a while back. Probably even 25 years ago. At the tender age of three. I was a happy kid, even for a three year old. Never really cried, all them three year old girls loved me. I had like 5 girlfriends, I was a straight up hustler, alright, still am. Anyways, back then, there was this kid, name of Matthew. Not Matt or Matty, Matthew. So this kid Matthew right, he thinks he's hot shit, thinks he should get whatever he wants, thinks his shit don't stink, ya get me? Probably an only child. Anyways, he came up to me one day, and said he wanted my red ball. I'd like to pause from the story to say, this was a really nice red ball, not one of those shitty worn out ones you see lying on the side of the road. Man I had just gotten this for my birthday, and it was the shit! So you can understand me for not having wanted to part with it. I tell him no, and he just sort of puffs out his chest and then he winds up and punches me square in the face. This is one of those moment of truth, of realization. Except all I realized there was, I ain't much of a fighter. Never did see my red ball again. The next story happened a couple of weeks later a-where are you going? Wait! Fine! I'll get back to the story about Corthrone. Geeze, I was just trying to give you some background! Right, so outside the government building. So Beaker comes out of this building, right, and I'm sitting there all cool-like, wearing my full on get-up, robes and all that. And I said "You know Beaker, you could have just asked." Cause breaking into places and grabbing shit, that's my specialty. You could say I excel at it. ...I really miss that red ball sometimes, y'know? Stark "Heh, yeah, you could be right about this thing. I dunno what we'd sell it as, but maybe if the mood so strikes or the price is right, we'll get rid of it. Not like it's done us any good at all." Stark briefly had a flash of the dead body being hauled out of the bar. He wasn't really sure why he'd held on to that cube this long, but it seemed like kind of a link, to before that fire, when he was just a guy in a bar, getting entertained by another guy juggling and stacking three beer bottles. Stark kind of left the group after that. It wasn't that he wasn't fond of them or anything. He actually kind of liked most of the guys he'd been thrown together by fate with. He just needed a little private time... Among the energetic throng of merchants and buyers that was Corthrone. It was really pretty amazing, still, even though he'd been here quite a bit in his old life. It never really stopped amazing him how the city itself was alive, always moving, always loud, always open.Even at 4am, there'd still be merchants open so they could sell more wares while their opponents were asleep. Only problem was, their opponents had the same idea. The City That Never Sleeps. Stark had read that about Corthrone in one of those rookie adventure guides. He laughed at the thing at the time, but however it had been written at the time, Stark could really appreciate it these days. He hadn't been getting much sleep either. That was probably a factor into him bumping into a pretty girl. Lightkratos knows he didn't have the skill or luck to do that when his faculties were at their fullest. He apologized as sincerely as he could muster without actually stopping, but she put a hand on his shoulder, and he wasn't the kind of guy who would pull away from that, so he did end up stopping after all, and turned around to meet her face. She was pretty. He wasn't falling over himself in love with her or anything, but you could just tell, this was a pretty girl. She had that look of not having let the world get to her yet. This was probably a good town for that. a town where deception is outlawed, and people treat each other right or else. Stark wondered briefly why she had stopped him, and realized he'd been too los tin thought to really hear her. He tried to pass it off as the crowd being too loud, and just asked her "What?" While raising his hand to his ear. "I said, did you want your fortune read, mister?" She didn't seem altogether put off by his eye or anything, and that was enough for Stark to say yes, making quickly sure he had the money to do so after she turned around to lead him to her tent, which was unguarded but unlooted. It had kind of a cheap air about it, but Stark didn't mind, he was hoping the fortune was cheap to match. It looked like a pretty standard fortune teller's hut. There was a teapot for leaf reading, a jar marked bones, A dusty crystal ball that looked like it hadn't seen any use in the past while sat in a little holding case on a pillow. Stark wondered if maybe she didn't move her tent around at all. It seemed like she did the moving for it, and brought her clients back here. She sat down, and waved her hand expectantly but patiently for Stark to take the other chair. He'd still been admiring the finer points of the tent, namely the tea kettle with a bag of leaves. He hadn't seen a tea reading since he was a kid, and he was about to ask for his fortune to be read that way as he sat down when she asked for his palm. He obliged wordlessly, and she started to look at it with a serious intent. After a while she looked back up with a soomewhat concerned look on her face that disppeared as she spoke. "So, what did you wana know, love line? Welth line? Fame line? Family line?" Stark hadn't really considered it. "Can... Can I just have an overview, I guess?" Stark really wasn't a regular fortune fan,a dn this was the first time someone had used his hands as the method. He didn't really know what the etiquette was here. "Well... Alright." She seemed kind of disappointed to hear that. Again, it faded in her voice really quickly as she started up again. "I can tell just looking at your hand that your love life up until now has been...yeah." She wasn't wrong. "And your money was doing alright, but not super til a few years back, recently you came into a bit though, so you know, good on ya. There'll be more, don't worry about that." That was nice enough. "As for fame. It just ain't happenin', but don't despair darlin', whose real well known that wasn't born with a spoon up their ass anyways, right?" Stark didn't really care about fame anyways. "And uh, as for your life line it's uhhh....Well, honestly, I can't really tell what's going on with it. It's kind of a mess. Maybe you got real scarred on your hand there or something?" She suggested. Stark figured that was just a better option to here then her being a sub par fortune teller, but as far as he knew, his hand hadn't been cut up severely at any point in his recent memory. He just shrugged though, He honestly wasn't going to put much stock into this anyways. Stark got up, gave the girl a couple ducats and left, or tried to, he got that same hand on his shoulder. "I... I can't really tell what it is, it's kind of messed up, bu tit's something big." That was all she said, and all of a sudden that hand pulling him back was now pushing him out. And she was off into the crowd, probably already forgotten about him, looking for another guy to lure back to her tent. As for Stark, he tried not to give it too much thought either, as he wandered back into the blood stream of the living city. Fuego Oakheim was in ruins. Fuego hadn't heard that. It must have happened recently or... Or maybe no one had gotten out and seen yet. How was this not news? Unless... Unless this was company work. Maybe this was where the story started, so to speak. Where the cube left safe hands into unsafe ones. Where Eisig hatched up his little scheme. "We should take a look aro-" Fuego didn't get to finish his sentence. He started vomiting profusely where he stepped off the... ground on to the actual ground. This dirt surfing didn't suit him. After he finished, he got back up, with whatever dignity he had left in him, addressed Klints. I'm going to take a quick look around here. You head to Corthrone AND BEHAVE. I don't want you getting into any fights or burying anyone alive. We have to learn what's going on and where Eisig is before we act, alright? I'll get to Corthrone my own way. One that induces less upheaval."

kthnxlol

If one finds oneself at a dead end, maybe it's best to backtrack and move somewhere else from there! Or would you have us at a standstill, eying this impassable literary wall we've been at for the last decade forevermore? Bold choices like his are the only way we can move forward, no matter what sacrifices we make for that sake, they are all worth it!

You can't argue agains ttoday's writing. We can't all follow Dicken's lead. He's trying new things, man. You need to learn to evolve!

Well, you can;t argue the writing quality.

Wouldn't the bra be stopping him from ripping her heart out? Heh...placement.

Have fun with that, guy.

Fuego "I know because if I were them, and I realized the caliber of men that were fighting over something they had, I wouldn't stay anywhere near the scene of their duel. We know Eisig didn't kill them, because Mr. Lighting's is the only body, and it's unlikely they're a group, as their appearance in an arena would suggest they're wanting for money, something Eisig could fix somewhat handily, given his position. No, I think the situation unfolded more like this: This group of sell-swords ran into an operative known as the Jester. Somehow they managed to get the drop on a member of internal affairs, an impressive feat, admittedly, but not unheard of. Not knowing what they had when they killed him, they just took the phylactery with them. Having found nothing of any known value on the body, they needed the cash just to survive here, thus the arena fight. They were doing fairly well, but somehow either Eisig or Mr. Lightning noticed the cube, maybe both. Mr. Lightning said this morning he had some business to attend to. We can probably assume this was it." Fuego took a breath. "Eisig, whether he noticed the cube first or not, saw his chance, and struck out at Mr. Lightning, but he wasn't able to finish it in the first strike, and the two of them dueled. One of the sell-swords caught a lightning bolt as a bolt was likely deflected by one of Eisig's tricky ice maneuvers. Or perhaps he had the cube and he was struck down to avoid Eisig taking it, his intentions might have been known.... Or..." Too many variables, he couldn't really be sure. "Either way, they're probably headed South. These kind of sell-swords need a population to make their money, bullying little mountain towns won't net them the income they want. Our best bet would to be to take the main southern road, down to Oakheim, and Corthrone, if we can;'t find them by then...this will be harder, we may have to use some contacts that we-well, I have to find them in that case.

Hey there Android, welcome to the RP, Andy is approved.

either that or the place is a constant commotion.

Stark When they finally got out of the cart, it seemed like everybody went their separate ways right off the bat. Stark didn't show it outwardly, but he was somewhat disheartened at that. For all his talk of wanting to come here and settle down, life on the road had been missed more then he realized. Would this be the end of his travels with this motley crew? He hated to admit it, but he was starting to grow fond of these guys. Maybe it was just the old army buddy syndrome. You get into a few deadly encounters, all of a sudden the guys that were on your side are your best friends. Not that Stark had a lot of competition in the friends market.Back on the city guard he was never really popular, just a cyclops who kept to himself mostly. Come to think of it, he never even really spoke to Jeph before this all happened. He knew Jeph was more lively and responsive before the fire though. Stark was pretty sure Jeph had had a sister, though he'd never asked him about it. Ironically enough, right then was when Jeph decided to come up to Stark and say something. "Hey, Stark. Once our happy caravan splits, mind if I tag along with you? I really have no idea what to do, and need some time to think things through." That was more words in one go then Stark had heard Jeph utter so far in total, he was pretty sure. He supposed it was progress. A guy had to take his life and move on at some point, right? "Uh, yeah, sure thing." Stark wasn't giving off the comforting and reassuring vibe he had been going for there. "You're always welcome Jeph. If I can find some work here, or if we have to move on, ain't no one going to force you away or nothing." That was a bit better, he supposed. A bit later, as he started wandering the Seller's Sea of Sales (Corthrone had a lot of nicknames, chalk it up to the many charismatic merchants who called it home). Stark noticed a few things. Partly the very large group of wagons all arriving together not too far from where Lyle and them all departed. None of them seemed like merchants. it was more likely it was just a pilgrimage or any other breed of regular civilian travel stopping off to gape in amazement at the craziness of the makeshift town and to see if they couldn't find some amazing deals. Stark figured the people in charge of regular pilgrimages/other kinds of trips were tipped fairly well for stopping their journeys in Corthrone a while. It was actually amazing how nice the tented hotels could be, through really a collection of tents you stay in would probably be better called a campsite (but they came with room service and everything). And for how nice they were the hotels were dirt cheap! There was a reason for that, though. All the merchants chipped in, or were taxed, to help out industries like the hotels and bribing large groups of civilians to stop here and stay here. No matter how cheap the day to day expenditures in Corthrone were, almost no one left with any money still to their name, just a large collection of 'finds'. Secondly, paladins had been added to the guard force here. Stark didn't care for paladins, not as a whole. It wasn't their righteous attitude, it was their righteous attitude combined with their needless murder. He supposed it was cause they were all col in the eyes of whatever God they followed, but paladin's had no trouble killing anyone they deemed malign or unworthy. And they would sleep well that night. Stark was aware of the irony in his judgment, though. He'd killed people, but never for no reason, and never when he didn't have to... Never without the immediate threat to his life present. These guys could be trouble. At the least, they painted Corthrone in a worse light in his eyes, though they probably added respectability to the people who'd never shared a battlefield with paladins. Thirdly, after getting past that, how crazy this place was! It seemed like it had really gotten bigger since Stark had last been here! He could see a large circus tent in the back. He wondered if there was an actual circus there or if it was Corthrone's version of a super store. Neither would have surprised him. This place, for any folly it may have had, was still always quite the place to behold. Always bristling and brimming with life, almost boiling over with it, even. The people running back and forth, merchants hurriedly moving their wares, trying to catch the last great sales of the day, People trying to keep up with all the movement, getting absolutely lost by the fact that all their landmarks had moved since they took not of them. It was funny how even a street in Corthrone could move, stop existing, or come into being out of nowhere. The streets never had names, either. They never lasted long enough. And they never ran very far. It was all part of the merchants' strategy, If people want to get anywhere in Corthrone, they have to twist and turn, maybe even get lost, and all they have to guide them is friendly merchants with amazing deals. This town was really something else. Fuego While Klints had been inside, Fuego had been eying up the scene. Looked like someone had been eaten up by a lion, and he hadn't been wearing any of the champion's armour. So he was probably one of the crew that was on the challenger side. Seemed like everyone involved here had lost someone. Fuego had dropped very deep into thought about that. Deep enough that he missed Klints trying to talk to him the first time. "Jeez, Fuego, did you fall asleep again? Like I said, some guy called Stark had a serious shoulder injury! He must've fought Mr. Light and had the cube before Eisig came and took it! He could probably tell us something about what happened. We should totally ditch this place and start looking for him." Fuego was back in the arena, pulled away from his inner workings by his partner's nattering voice. "Huh? Oh, right...Wait, no. We're stationed here in Alabaste, and it looks like these guys left right after here, right? Well, then they're no longer under our jurisdiction, and someone else can..." Fuego knew the protocol, but the man who taught it to him was lying dead not very far from him right now. "You know what, fuck it. Let's go get these guys. We'll file a report once we have a the cube. Where do you figure the headed?"

there's also a wall, so the two things have an alley?

Also, sad news: My DS broke. Happy news: I'll probably stop ignoring RPing time in favour of FFTA.

Oh shit, did that not happen? Sorry guy, didn't mean to screw up with the IC knowledge.

mr_e_s Shinon: *bumps into Lethe* Hey, watch where you're...Oh, it's you. 21:33 mr_e_s Lethe: Well, you going to apologize? 21:33 mr_e_s Shinon: Pfft the only thing I'm sorry about is that I have to fight alongside you filthy subhumans! 21:34 mr_e_s Lethe: You better wath your tongue or I'll cut it out! 21:34 mr_e_s Shinon: You better watch your tail or I'll...I don't know, fuck I'm drunk. You're a god damned housepet, anyways 21:34 mr_e_s Lethe: I'll tear you to shreds! 21:35 mr_e_s Shinon: I'll fill you with so many holes you'll....nuts to the threats, let's just fight! 21:35 mr_e_s *the next day* 21:35 mr_e_s Lethe: Wow... This is... Really awkward. 21:35 mr_e_s Shinon: You're telling me. 21:36 mr_e_s Lethe: I'm just really embarrassed we slept togehter, don't tell anyone, okay? 21:36 mr_e_s Shinon: You're embarassed, I was so drunk I thought you were Mordecai!

Approved, welcome to etc...

From an IRC chat. Oliver: Oh my, that is quite possibly the most beautiful specimen I have ever seen! 17:51 mr_e_s Jill: What, this guy I fly on? Thanks! 17:51 mr_e_s Oliver: I just want to take it home and bathe it in the finest oils! 17:51 mr_e_s Jill: Uhh... 17:52 mr_e_s Oliver: I'd groom every bit of it, top to bottom, and appreciate it beauty, maybe fondle it gently... 17:52 mr_e_s Jill: Umm, that's cool, I guess 17:52 mr_e_s Oliver: And then I'd bed it, and bed it well, it would be changed forever. 17:52 mr_e_s Jill: Wait, are you talkin about me, or the wyvern? 17:52 mr_e_s Oliver: Can't it be both?

OoC: Let's just say this post happened before everybody disembarked off the wagon, my bad for not being a good little RPer and keeping up. Stark The trip to Corthrone was relatively uneventful, a couple goblins were on the roadside here and there, but they knew better then to attack such a full cart, or even to be anywhere near it when it went by. Stark barely saw them hiding in the bushes and the like as he passed by, in fact, he probably missed a bunch of them altogether. When the road clearing went on, goblins were the hardest to get rid of. Not because they were particularly strong. In fact, without significant numbers, they weren't much of a threat at all to a trained group. It was the fac tthat they knew when they were entering a losing fight, and they almost always opted to run and live to cause trouble another day. That's why even on the major roads, goblins were still a problem. They'd still attack merchants who travelled around without guards. Maybe that was the reason few caravans actually stopped to hunt down the hiding goblins. The guards knew they were a reason for a continued paycheck. When they arrived at the Crossroads City, Stark dropped all defensiveness, no one here would dare break the law, be it to pickpocket or even swindle someone too hard. Corthrone was....Wow he should really warn Harris. Well.... Yeah, he probably should. "Listen up, everyone. For those of you that haven;t been here before, there are a few things you might need to know about the Great Tent City." Stark did his best to hide the fact he was addressing Harris, by instead looking around to everyone. "Firstly, any kind of deception or underhanded behaviour is not only frowned upon, it's punished. Severely. Between all the mercenaries, guards, monster hunters, and city 'police', it would be stupid to try and steal anything from anyone or break the law in any fashion. Crimes are punishable by death, and the combined forces of enforcement rival most kingdoms' armies." Stark could at least clear his conscience if that guy got himself killed trying to take someone's last penny now. He'd warned him.

Approved, guy. Nice to see a sign up.

Apologies for absence. Also, since these chars overlapped I decided to turn into something called "Scenes from a crazy cycle." Shinon/Vika Vika: Wow, you will not believe the shit Tormod just told me. Shinon: Hey that's super I don't care, go fly off into a dragon's nest or something. Vika: What's you're problem? Shinon: I. Hate. Sub-humans. At no point have I not made this clear. If I had my way, the Greil mercenaries would be hunting you down, not helping you out. Vika: Well, if I had my way, all you humans would be put into camps, not provided with any food, and forced to kill each other and eat the weak to survive, until eventually only the very strongest are allowed out to breed. Until their children are of the right age to be put to the arenas to duel each other for our pleasure! Shinon: I...uh...you win? Vika: Awesome, later. Shinon/Zihark Shinon: Wow, you will not believe the shit Vika just told me. Zihark: If you speak ill of that hot chick with wings I will cut you down I swear to Ashera. Shinon: ...K, so what's up? Zihark: Not much, waiting for Lyre to come out of her tent so I can bump into her and have an accidental meeting, try and turn it into a first date set-up. Shinon: Anyone ever tell you that you're really creepy? Zihark: yeah a bunch of times, anyways, keep an eye out for Meg, I'm trying to avoid her. Shinon: Why on Earth would you avoid a hottie like her? Zihark: ...What? Shinon: Man, if I had half a chance I would bend that girl over and- *10 seconds later* Zihark: Oh God I think my ears just crawled into themselves and died! Zihark/Lyre Zihark: Wow, you would not believe the shit Shinon just told me. Lyre: Leave me alone, Zihark. Lethe warned me you were a scuzzball. Zihark: Yeah, but I'm a scuzzball with some olivi grass! That gets you pretty high, right? Lyre: Yeah, it also keeps me in my cat form... Zihark: I know, all the better. That's even hotter. Lethe: Oh...My...Ashera... I gotta go! Zihark: Wait, don't tell anyone! Promise! Lethe: Later, Zi! *grabs the grass and runs*

Thanks for stepping in and getting that moving, by the way, Walter. The simple act of walking out of the city took way too long.

Fuego "No! You're leaving yourself completely open!" Fuego hit the ground with a hard thud. That hurt like hell. "You're focusing too much on your offense! You can't defeat you enemies if you can't stay alive!" Fuego irately gout up, grumbling and muttering about how his teacher didn't know as much as he thought he did. "Get up and try it again!" Fuego was ready to light this motherfucker right up. There were still some cinders from his last attack smoldering out. Not for long. Fuego called forth the inferno every spark was just waiting to become and started throwing balls of the new fire mercilessly at his target, who dodged them, almost effortlessly. Fuego was expecting that though. After all, it happened last time, too. This time though, he kept focusing on the ones he had thrown after the miss, while still throwing new ones. His opponent had a disappointed look on his face, like he expected better. Fuego was going to give him better though. Much better. The last fireball stopped mid-air, before arriving at it's destination. The half second his opponent took to consider it was spent with all the fireballs he'd thrown previously coming back at the older man all together. It was such a good plan! ...Too bad they were all broken apart in one strike. "Ha! That's better! You're still thinking too much about the offense, but you're changing up your strategy, making new moves! If your eyes hadn't betrayed your moves, you might have had me there. I even had to break out my magic!" Mr. Lightning walked up and patted Fuego on the back. "That's enough for today. Wouldn't you say so, Eisig?" An elderly man stepped into view, from where, Fuego didn't know. "I'd say so, that's some considerable improvement from last time. He's a great find, Mr. Lightning" He'd been there last time as well? "Come on, let's go, I'll buy you both dinner." As they walked away, Fuego was somewhat nervous, but also a little proud. He wasn't sure, as he was walking a good distance behind them, and the market was noisy on the way to the restaurant, but he could have sworn he heard Mr. Lightning say "I'm telling you, the kid'll be ready for missions soon. He's a quick study." That little bit of pride he'd felt before swelled up to the point where he was holding his chin noticeably up in the air. It was a great day to be alive. He really felt a kinship with this man, Mr. Lightning. His mentor... ~~~ The body was charred, and unmistakably killed by something ice related. bits of the blood were still thawing out. This was Mr. Lightning, no doubt about it. And Eisig was the only man he knew capable of doing this. But why? Fuego looked around the arena, trying to find anything that could single out this bloodbath from the ones that usually took place. The blood and bodies all around, none of them stood out... Wait, that wall. There was an outline there. Fuego had seen it before. Someone had been hit with one of Mr. Lightning's attacks. Fuego hopped down from the stands into the arena proper and checked the wall out. Judging by the darkness of the outline, someone took a solid hit to the shoulder. Eisig? He didn't think so, it looked a bit bigger, the silhouette, that was. So, the next thing to do, the only real lead as to what the Hell happened, would be to find out who got struck, and where they were. Fuego came up to Klints, who was pretending he knew how to use a sword, and unceremoniously gave him a couple orders. "From the looks of it, it was probably Eisig that did this. And someone besides him took a thunderbolt to the shoulder. Go ask the medics if they treated any serious shoulder injuries. If they don't cooperate, ask harder. I'm going to see if I can't figure anything else out about this."

Heh. Snowy...