I know you don't have your stamp yet but here's your battle for whenever you're ready.




The Plains of Argis were unusually dewy this midmorning. The moister that was normally restricted to the tall knee high grass was flying around the air like a gentle mist. The sun was high enough in the sky to make this rather odd. Though it was not quite noon it was hours past dawn and the last rain was days ago.

Atrin, nor James, not even The Red Robed Man who walked the plains now liked rain, dew, or mist. Most forms of moisture, save for a cold refreshing drink, was avoided by the trio; today however there was no choice in the matter. Despite his hatred for water, he had come to this location by a small boat along the river, and now that he had obtained the parchment he wanted he needed to return to Outcast Keep.

Reaching into the confines of his red robe, he pulled out the rolled up scroll that had been worth the boat fare. Unrolling the scroll, he reveals a wanted poster calling for the arrest of ‘Atrin, The Killer Clown’. Listed as armed and dangerous, carrying a quarter staff and able to manipulate flames. Civilians are to alert a guard if they come across him, or any information that may lead to his capture. At the bottom of the wanted flyer was a reward; fifty gold pieces to bring him in alive.

With attention buried so deeply into the parchment, the red robed man stumbled over some unknown object. Just barely was he able to roll over and protect the scroll, rolling it up sloppily and thrusting it back into his sleeve. As he hit the wet crass he slid quite far due to the dew. Taking a deep breath through his white mask, he stands and jerks his arms around. The entire back of his maroon colored cloak was soaking wet. How he hated water, oh how he hated being wet like this. He wanted to scream out in rage when he heard a moan coming from where he had tripped.

It was a young man who he had tripped over; one who had passed out in the plains by the looks of him. He quickly started not liking this man, sleeping in the plains, causing him to trip over the slacker and getting all wet. He snarled at the lad roughly his own age. “Hey! Get up!” He said while taking the now wet quarter staff from his back. “You made trip you peasant!”

Now that my character's been approved, I guess its time to start (P.S.: I've noticed most persons have the link to their character in their signature, I did the same is that fine?, And also, is it okay if I explain what happened before he fell asleep?)
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After succesfully escaping from the "perfect land" Tralok moved as far as possible, to prevent being found on the remote occasion that the Ek'thin would actually send someone for him instead of just staying where they are to avoid facing the real world, he stayed in towns whenever he found one, proceeding to continue his trip until he found a forest or some place to hide and sleep, after three days, he decided it was just redundant to keep escaping, and returned to his normal pace; his eyes always wandering through the environments he had missed all the years he had lived as of now; true they indeed had no problems finding fruit or some farm animals within the land of the Ek'thin, yet he had never seen the chirping birds or the running deer, indeed nice animals if he was to say so himself.

After enjoying the view for an elongated period of time, Tralok decided it was time to sleep.

More than once had Tralok been woken up during a particularly nice sleep, but this was the first time his sleep had been disturbed by a god. As Tralok's eyelid's opened, he saw an extremely pale woman with with an almost white hue of blue hair, turquoise eyes and an elongated white dress with more than a few ice designs all over, A blue aura surrounding her. Tralok watched as she spoke, the voice clearly not human as a human would be unable to reproduce such sound.

"Tralok, my faithful warrior; this is the first time we've met so you may still have problems recognizing me. Yet my powers have taken you through the toughest situations, I am Ahkkaryp the goddess of ice, and I bring a mission for you to be able to see your destiny."

Upon hearing her speak, Tralok spoke truthfully.

"But did you have to wake me up?, I was having a nice nap...

Akkharyp laughed at the antics of the young human, then continued speaking.

"You know most people call gods with some respect, however back to the topic; a man named Atrin, practitioner of your trade; but your polar opposite in personality. You'll face this man, and depending how you fare, will decide wether youll live or die within this world"

Slightly more interested, the man spoke

"Ok, ok I'll fight him"

The man was thrown back into his original position near a river on the Plains of Argis, meanwhile the goddess pondered how come the man could speak so familiarly with him without evoking her rage. Tralok wasn't able to see anything coming from where he was standing, so he decided to lie down and wait in that position until the man came by, he'd probably spot him when he appeared; however Tralok only realized he had been sleeping when a red and purple figure tripped over him, The figure screamed something his ears couldn't quite understand, probably related to the fact that he shouldn't have been sleeping anywhere randomly like that.

Tralok rolled a few feet away before standing up in order to prevent being hurt if the figure (who he now identified as a clown) had a weapon. The water mage's assumption was right, as the man took a quarterstaff from his back little after he stood up, upon further inspection the man who apparently was just a little older or a little younger than him looked beyond sanity, and his clothes didn't help that much either. Tralok took Kath'yu from the hilt on his back, and held it in a diagonal position that would allow him to attack if necessary, the blade only slightly pointing at the other man. Tralok decided upon asking this man about his trade, the man could hide his name if he had wronged, but he'd have no reason to hide his trade, would he? Tralok spoke calmly, introducing himself in the proccess.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Tralok. Just wondering, but are you by any chance a mage as I am?

If the man was indeed a mage, he'd probably be Atrin, as it wasn't particularly common to find one, and by the looks of t, he was indeed Tralok's polaqr opposite.

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So? How did I do?, I hope I met the expectations

Very nice actually, I don't see many complications coming up if you battle as well as you write. The only thing I have to say is that I'm not currently dressed like a clown lol. I am in disguise and that is how I was able to get my hands on my own wanted poster without any harassment. No need to change anything about your post, just keep it in mind lol. I've got to go to work right now so I won't be able to post now but I'll try my post to have one up when I get off work.




Across the tall grass the once sleeping man now stood with a combination of drowse and vigor. From the strangers back he took out a voulge, a weapon much like his quarter staff only with a sword blade on it, and lazily pointed it toward him. ‘Huh.’ He thought as his gaze looked over both weapons; ‘Size isn’t everything right?’ Admittedly he was intimidated by this man, or at least by his blade, but intimidation was not fear, and he did not fear this man.

When he was asked about his magic craft, a seed of concern was planted in the back of his mind. This was not a question that was asked about at random, something was wrong with this situation. Clearly it was a rhetorical question, Tralok must somehow know that he was Atrin, and that meant that he had to die.

“Perhaps I am.” He said while taking his staff firmly to his left hand and focusing his manna and his rage into his right hand. The dew, this reckless bounty hunter mage, there was plenty of things to fuel his hatred, to drive his body and his fire. An orb of fire, speckling with more color than a pallet, appeared in his opened hand and floated just above his red glove. As the blaze gently reflected off the slight mist in the air options reflected in his mind. This man needed to die but this man’s weapon had the advantage of reach, an advantage that normally was his alone. Fighting this man was going to be a real test in his abilities, and he didn’t like it.

[Simple Torch 1/4 +1 Stress]

Quickly he dashed forward, closing the distance by running up the gap produced by Tralok’s stance that barely had the voulge pointed at Atrin. His hand moving from the center of his staff to the far edge, he spun around counter clockwise and brought the staff around with him, level with Tralok’s head. At the same time the staff came around so too did Atrin’s spell, the orb was thrown toward Tralok’s torso. This attack, though not horribly strong, would hopefully be quick and give him enough time and reach to keep away from that lethal weapon that could make quick work of the criminal clown.

(That is an example of what I like to call a ‘flowing attack’. A Flowing Attack is a two part attack that, as the name suggests, flows together into one attack. Its important to remember that a Flowing attack and 2 different attacks are very different. A rouge slashing with one knife, pausing for a second, then slashing with his other is 2 different attacks, as to a rouge performing 2 slashes together in unison, even if one will land before the other if the motion is one. I bring this up just because you have Snowball and can do the same thing that I just did.)

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Stress 1
Post 2/4 (Remember to keep track of the post number and when your Stress drops down.)

You read my mind about snowball though I wasn't thinking about the flowing attack, (I thought just counteracting simple torch with snowball would be good enough) , then again seeing my character's nature, it is unlikely that he actually attempts to attack Atrin without explaining that apparently he has to fight him in order to fulfill his destiny.
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The man, who was likely to be Atrin, seemed to take offense from Tralok knowing he was a mage, as he started casting a spell upon mention, Tralok knew, as Atrin's hand was glowing in an ominous orange, what the disguised man ambiguously said, had been ascertained by the flashing light from the spell he was casting. Tralok attempted to match the move, he moved his right hand to the center, while changing the side where the hand held it to the opposing one, then he moved his left hand away from the voulge, the hand at the center to keep his balance at greatest when holding it with one hand,then with his left, he began casting a snowball spell (So if I understand I must write my spell and the stress like this?) [Snowball used, 1/6 stress] . And this was just the beggining of Tralok's problems. Attempting to eliminate Tralok's reach advantage, The opposing mage spun his staff clockwise while moving forward; the staff aiming at Tralok's head.

Nevertheless, the water mage was able to move away by changing his guard, he moved his left leg to the back in a half turn motion. Afterwards, to protect himself from an attack, he matched his opponent's movements and spun his staff in a clockwise strike, this would be used to tell the enemy that he didn't want to kill him; and probably allow Tralok to speak. Right after blocking the uncoming attack, Tralok released his snowball at the same time Atrin left his torch, the moist around him made the spell faster, whil the river would make it a little bit stronger. Both spells crashed one against the other, cancelling the damage, although due to the strength increase, a bit of the snowball was most likely to survive.

Tralok spoke in order to negotiate with this man,

"I think you misunderstood me, I have no ill will against you, it is just that I've been told that if I am to thrive in this world, I must fight you and prove myself I can.

His words spoken with conviction, now fully awakened Tralok braced himself for a battle that would change, or rather create his destiny.

(Ok, I think I've grasped the concept of spells, )

(That first paragraph was a bit hard to follow. Try to watch the run on sentences a bit. I know its hard to know if something is hard to follow when you KNOW what your character is doing so don't look to much into it.)

In response to Atrin’s hasty attack, Tralok jumped backward to avoid the staff. From his palm his own power was revealed. From the mist around them and the manna within him, Tralok summoned a snow ball, the polar opposite of the simple torch in every way. As the two spells collided in the air they should have fully canceled each other out, however a small slush from the snowball carried over. The slush quickly descended to the ground and sloshed upon Atrin’s robe as he completed his rotation.

(Remember both our spells are backed by a weak skill. Your Familiar Waters would add a bit than my Minor Arcana, because yours has a requirement and mine works for all spells, but splitting hairs on a weak skill still doesn’t mean all that much.)

The hidden face tightened as his anger did steadily increase. A small steam from the collision lofted high into the air, the after effect of snow melting to water then extinguishing fire at the cost of its own being. Past the steam Tralok was attempting a diplomatic approach to the encounter, an approach that was seen as trickery to increase the chances of taking him back alive. Atrin, would not trust the napping man who knew to quickly it identity of the Red Robed Man.

Hands shifted back to their usual place upon the quarter staff before he spoke again. “All battles are as such, for if you lose here you shall be dead!” With much caution Atrin takes a step closer to Tralok, closing the gap that he had created when jumping backwards. “The point of the matter is that if you know who I am, and I suspect that you do, I can’t have you off blabbing your mouth off. I’m sure you’ll understand why you can’t live.” To many events were being juggled by The Red Robed Man, even the thought that the mysterious stranger orchestrating the strings of society and the insane clown with a bounty on his head, would destroy everything that he had created.

His breathing intensified as he drew nearer to his opponent, bringing the fuel for his magic deep into the lungs before the manna can travel through his right arm. His fingers, held out and outstretched, were the goal of the traveling manna that now coursed through his body with new found purpose. While keeping up his defenses, the fire mage was also preparing the steam spell in which he employed. The spell was not as quick to the cast as Simple Torch, and required a bit more effort before the spell met fruition.

[Steam 1/2 , +1 Stress]

(This is a trick that a lot of Spellcasters use, Drakol all the time. Spells with a somewhat long cast time, like the medium cast time of my steam spell, can be ‘cast’ in one post and then their effect take place in the next, allowing double casting. However as you might have noticed it does cause you to not attack the first post and you have to write out what spell you are casting, thus allowing your opponent to know what you are about to do. I can’t remember if this allows you to ‘double attack’ or not but I don’t think so, I’ll double check with Drakol when I see him online. If you have any questions about it feel free to PM me or even Yoz. All this being said though I did not NEED to wait to cast Steam, it is a choice. Even a long cast can be done in one post, it just gives your opponent more time to do as they wish.)

[Post 3/4: Stress 2]

Sorry for taking so long, I'll try to take less next time.
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Tralok saw Atrin's anger upon receiving a splash from the now melt snowball's water; first guess was that being a fire mage Atrin didn't like water. Tralok on the other hand, had been surprised by the fact that the snowball didn't travel through as he had predicted, but fallen down to the ground; could this man have an ability to empower his spells in the same way as Tralok?, if so what could the requirements or base be? All of this questions placed themselves upon the young mage's head, yet on a second thought, this was in fact his first actual battle, so perhaps he had miscalculated.

Leaving no time to ponder about the mysteries of life, as the opposing mage made his intentions clear; he wasn't about to accept peace through such simple means. The man proceeded to talk about his identity, meaning he was either an important person or a criminal, Tralok would think about that later. The man started breathing heavily, the water mage ignored it, seeing it as madness; he would respond to his opponents words "Then so be it, I won't try to convince you with words as that seems useless, I'll just fight you with all I can, and guide my soul the same way as the result." This would be most likely last time he spoke, as the battle wouldn't leave much room for idle talk.

As his opponent approached, Tralok's gaze followed his staff, because of the time he had spent sparring with the few other staff wielding youngs in the land of the Ek'thin; Tralok learnt that often a battle would be decided by who could read his opponent best, although as of that moment it looked as if the opponent was as the fire, unpredictabe and deadly; instead he'd attempt to manipulate him with his close quarters skill . Imitating his opponent, he moved his hands back into position; afterwards, he quickly sidestepped diagonally to the left, slashing horizontally after placing his feet back on solid ground. The attack wouldn't be deadly, as Atrin was far too near to be struck by the voulge's blade, instead the staff would be the source of damage, most likely non lethal, but then again; it was an actual battle, and any kind of damage would help Tralok in his goal.

[post 3/4: stress 1]

A confident slash came from Tralok to Atrin's left side. A strong blown but one to close to hit with the blade, the slender shaft now threatened his arm with the prospect of a nasty bruise. The slothful bounty hunter was seemingly to lazy to fight at full force, to not that much of a surprise.

The poll rammed hard into his left should, which he braced for by lifting his left arm away from his staff and taking the blow down his entire bicep. A jolt of pain, a small sparkling of electricity, shot all throughout his arm. The flaring numbness would dull his senses and cripple his reaction time, but it was not a serious hit at all.

Damage was dealt but it would cost this bounty hunter some of his own coin for such a purchase. With the Steam Spell was nearing completion, and Tralok's weapon and hands having just struck him, Atrin was ready to counter attack the water mage. His hand rose quickly and toward Tralok's face, quarter staff resting lazily between his palm and thumb. Hot vapor shot out of his fingers like a screaming tea pot.

Tralok's face quickly disappeared from his view behind a thick wall of steam. The smile hidden beneath his cloak grew larger and more overconfident, stemming from the premature satisfaction of a landing attack.

The grip on his staff again tightened as his spell finished and he back up, pushing his opponents weapon away as to not be cut. Soon after his staff was again held with both hands and he was back into his defensive stance. The advantage of will seemed to be currently his, but this was something that could quickly shift and he knew it. As long as this man was going about this half hearted he would not lose.

Tralok's attack hit the target as planned,fueling the young mage's confidence, without hesitating for a second, Atrin responded by placing his hand in front of Tralok's face; soon afterwards, a cloud of heated smoke shot quickly from it, Causing minor damage. After receiving the attack; Tralok finally woke up; at the cost of his pride for having hit the opposer. By throwing himself to the ground, and rolling away from his opponent, he was able to avoid most of the attack.

Shortly after the smoke died out, Tralok discerned the smile hidden beneath the cloak, he used his staff to aid, and hastily stood up and with renewed resolve, he changed his position to a more battle able one, holding his voulge with both hands, his right hand almost at the blade; and his left one some distance back, his feet were not too far apart from one another, this would indicate his enemy that he was finally serious, no more fooling around lazily.

His eyes were fixed upon Atrin, as he quickly went through all the previous events in the battle to think how to manipulate him; it would take some time, yet it wasn't impossible, he raised his voulge a tad, and opened his left hand; a grin that resembled the smile of a little child that had just played a prank to his parents drew itself, Tralok made no effort in hiding it. The water mage began casting a spell, knowing how Atrin didn't like water, he decided that a fully liquid attack would cause him more trouble, on top of that it wasn't only water, it was cold water,(Water Shot
--Bonus: If the mage also knows Cold Shoulder, the water is quite cold, with all the discomfort that implies.). plus it was his strongest spell meaning it would have more than the benefit of annoying his enemy.

After an average time span for a spell, the moist around his body visibly moved around his hand, the water from the nearby lake attracted itself, both spiralled towards Tralok's hand; both aiding in the creation of the spell, The spell was finally released in a rather strong burst of water, even if atrin wasn't discomforted with the attack, he would sure feel the power from the stream hitting him, well were it to hit; if not it would have been a wasted spell; but Tralok was optimistic about this, it would seem that this would help the battle to start.

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(stress1-1+2, stress = 2 post 1/4)

Just wanted to let you know you're doing quite well for yourself. Keep up the good work and I can't see why you won't be approved soon.




The steam that emitted from his fingers brushed heavily against Tralok's face, leaving a path of discomfort and irritation as the hot vapor tor through the air. Quickly his foe was forced to jump backwards, bringing the two out of melee range. Short gasps of air escaped Atrin's lips in the form of chuckles. Then a strange and unexpected occurrence happened to show itself.

Upon Tralok's face a counter grin had washed upon his face like a tidal wave. His water counterpart was casting a spell, casting time cut down by the amount of moister in the air. Along with the mist that surrounded the area, the very steam from his spell was being pulled into a vortex in the palm of his hand. The anomaly of the spell absorption peeked interest just long enough for the spell to meet its hasty conclusion.

An orb of water appeared in Tralok's hand and like a cannon it was fired upon him in a steady stream that lasted much longer than such an orb should of allowed, the wonderful world of magic breaking the laws of the known world. The thick stream flew through the distance with ease and slammed against his chest. Quickly his hand rose to block the followed stream but it was to late, his chest already soaked and runoff of the blast flew upward and gently sprayed his face. The water was cold, freezing even, as it splashed about his body and left him shivering.

His breath grew heavier as the stream of water subsides, his hands clench tight, right hand still grasping the quarterstaff. “I hate being wet.” He utters under his breath. The energy around his body was peaking, showing a visible distortion of the air. “I hate being wet.” He says again, this time slightly louder than before. Now the moisture on his body was slowly starting to steam up and off of his body, not not at an effective rate yet. “I hate being wet!”

Screaming this last time and throwing his arms back, flames erupted off of his body in a sphere. They would die down and fade to nothing but hot air by the time they reached Tralok, but the heat would be immeasurable for the next few moments. Steam was already kicking into the foggy air from his spell; added to the equation the evaporating water from his body, vision was almost instantly obscured by both sides around Atrin.

[Heat Wave 1/1 uses. +2 Stress: Total 3/6]

Without a wasted moment Atrin was starting his attack. With a right hand clasped around the end of his staff, he dashed out of the steam pull first. His attack was a simple jab trusted toward Tralok's chest with the quarterstaff, Steam flowing from his body all the way.

Sadly Its been 2 months without any word from Sebs and I can only assume he will not be coming back anytime soon. Sadly I'm force to pull out the old Fail stamp again. Sorry ghost of sebs.