Odin laughed, a deep hearty laugh that resonated within his chest. "You think that your avatar could beat my own? He couldn't even take down that pesky blood elf."
Zeus' adonic face contorted, as though he'd bit into a lemon. "Without a doubt. Zane started with a topological disadvantage, and he underestimated Asher. I think that if the fear of... well, me... was struck into him, he'd have no problem at all."
"Care to put your drachma where your mouth is?" the norseman retorted. "We can arrange a side match. I'll even let you choose the field."
Zeus stroked his fluffy white beard. "Alright, fine. I have just the place. A proper arena."
The sun beat high in the sky over Delphi, the proud ruins standing watch atop a mountain. Wind whipped through the mountains surrounding the site, over the temple and amphitheatre, weaving throughout the shrines dotting the path to the temple, and finally across the grass to the nearby Stadium of Delphi.
The stone stadium seating surrounded an open dirt track, typically used for foot races. The track was the very meaning of the unit stadion, measuring about 600 feet from end to end.
On one end, a boy, no more than 16, materialized. Zane's spiky hair blew in the refreshing breeze, and his blue eyes scanned his surroundings. At first, there was not a soul in sight. However, about halfway down the stadium, a woman materialized, bearing large draconic wings and foreign battle attire.
"Champions! Welcome to Delphi!" Zane had been in a similar situation before, and while he forgot about the experience in the interim, the memory of his last battle against the blood elf came rushing back. This voice was different, though; no modulation covered the voice, which boomed like thunder. "You have been called forth to settle a wager between myself and Odin! Zane, my champion! This is your second chance to fight for my glory! If you do not prevail this time, I'll ensure you will not get a third."
"Oh, come off it, codger." A second voice boomed from the heavens. "Mistress, as my champion, I have complete faith that you will not disappoint."
The disembodied voices were silent for a moment, the wind rustling the grass the only sound. Then both voices returned in unison, "FIGHT!"
The trivial impetus of this deathmatch aside, it had begun.
@Jas @Mistress of Anarchy
Zeus' adonic face contorted, as though he'd bit into a lemon. "Without a doubt. Zane started with a topological disadvantage, and he underestimated Asher. I think that if the fear of... well, me... was struck into him, he'd have no problem at all."
"Care to put your drachma where your mouth is?" the norseman retorted. "We can arrange a side match. I'll even let you choose the field."
Zeus stroked his fluffy white beard. "Alright, fine. I have just the place. A proper arena."
The sun beat high in the sky over Delphi, the proud ruins standing watch atop a mountain. Wind whipped through the mountains surrounding the site, over the temple and amphitheatre, weaving throughout the shrines dotting the path to the temple, and finally across the grass to the nearby Stadium of Delphi.
The stone stadium seating surrounded an open dirt track, typically used for foot races. The track was the very meaning of the unit stadion, measuring about 600 feet from end to end.
On one end, a boy, no more than 16, materialized. Zane's spiky hair blew in the refreshing breeze, and his blue eyes scanned his surroundings. At first, there was not a soul in sight. However, about halfway down the stadium, a woman materialized, bearing large draconic wings and foreign battle attire.
"Champions! Welcome to Delphi!" Zane had been in a similar situation before, and while he forgot about the experience in the interim, the memory of his last battle against the blood elf came rushing back. This voice was different, though; no modulation covered the voice, which boomed like thunder. "You have been called forth to settle a wager between myself and Odin! Zane, my champion! This is your second chance to fight for my glory! If you do not prevail this time, I'll ensure you will not get a third."
"Oh, come off it, codger." A second voice boomed from the heavens. "Mistress, as my champion, I have complete faith that you will not disappoint."
The disembodied voices were silent for a moment, the wind rustling the grass the only sound. Then both voices returned in unison, "FIGHT!"
The trivial impetus of this deathmatch aside, it had begun.
@Jas @Mistress of Anarchy