Yaldabaoth, creator of the firmament and beasts both high and low. Adonaios, the light which rules over green things. Abraxas, mother of the three hundred sixty-five. Tzevaot, of the heavenly host. Logos, font of knowledge. Sophia, font of wisdom. These five most divine of the Archons created this world of toil and pain. Above them, in the realm of souls, exist the profundity of Bythos and the silence of Sige. From another place, outside of all that is, came the foe whose name should not be known.
-Creation myth of the Church of the Venerable Gnostics
----------------------------------------
The swordsman placed his long scimitar on his shoulder and beckoned with fingers upturned. "Come on then, don't be scared chick-peas. I'm only gonna cut ya a little, ya won't die." Light leather armor dyed black covered every inch of his body, leaving only his face visible. His sword was as long as his arm, and curved along its length. The end of the blade was noticeably thicker than the bottom; a weapon designed for hacking.
At the man's provocative and, more importantly, order-like words, Mud calmly slid into the arena.
"Oh, you're pretty brave, aren't you chick-pea? We'll see how long that lasts." Swinging his sword casually at his side, the swordsman thumbed his chin and smirked at Mud.
The kindly older receptionist rang out, silencing the muttering of the watching crowd. "Here's the rules. Any form of attack is allowed, but no killing or maiming. We've got healers so don't you worry about that deary. Fight is over if somebody surrenders or I judge that an attack would have been fatal in a real fight." The grey-haired lady looked towards Mud and scratched her cheek. "Um, since you're mute, if you want to surrender just pound the ground with your hand a few times, alright deary?" Mud nodded in affirmation, before going back to swiveling his head around.
The swordsman held out his arms and an exasperated look appeared on his face. "Wait, not only do I have to fight a kid but he's also a cripple?"
A withering glare was shot at him in reply. "Show respect to the newcomers, Loric. Being mute doesn't affect his ability to fight. Besides, he has other ways to communicate so it wouldn't be a problem in parties." Moving back to a more neutral stance, she continued her explanation."If I say to stop the fight, you both stop right away. Got it?" A nod and a grumpy "yeah" were immediately returned at her question.
"Alright then... BEGIN!"
The instant the receptionist human spoke those words, Mud fired the Force Bolt it had crafted the moment it entered the ring. Fifteen points of Mind mana impacted the flat-footed Loric directly in the chest, folding his body in half and sending him crashing to the ground a unit back.
Wasting no time, Mud fired a second bolt towards the man's prone position. It seemed the first attack had awoken something in Loric, however, and he rolled to the side and sprang to his feet in a single smooth motion. Dirt sprayed in the air as the bolt slammed uselessly into the ground. Of note, the dirt stopped abruptly at the edge of the ring and fell straight to the ground, as though striking an invisible wall. Mud would have to keep that in mind.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Loric looked around at the jeering crowd, who were mocking him mercilessly for getting laid out so quickly by a child. Turning his rage towards his enemy, he pointed his scimitar towards Mud and shouted, vein bulging on his forehead. "What the heck was that cheap shot? You cowar-whoa!" Halfway through his rant, Loric suddenly turned his chest and lunged to the side. A split second later, a rippling wave became visible spreading out on the invisible wall around the arena, directly behind him. "Firing that stupid Bolt even while I'm talking. Fight me like a man if you've got a pair!" At that, Loric dashed directly towards Mud.
Mud was frozen in place, trying to comprehend the order it had just received. What does it mean to fight someone "like a man"? Is there a particularly male-like way of fighting that the golem didn't know about? Perhaps realizing its confusion, the demon yelled into the arena. "It means melee fighting!" The fog of confusion instantly lifted from the golem's mind, and it raised two muddy fists. It would fight like a man.
In the time it had taken for Jabrax to speak those words, the swordsman arrived. Lifting his sword high during the charge, the weapon was swung down in a wide arc, aiming to slice Mud diagonally from his left shoulder. Rotating its torso to the left, Mud threw its right fist directly towards the blade, hardening the surface to stone. Sharp metal and stone struck, produced a deafening CLANK and spray of sparks.
[Unarmed Combat Skill increased to level 5]
Mud's pitiful strength could not contend with the leverage and momentum of the attack, and the golem was sent rolling backward. As soon as the rolling stopped Mud began reorienting itself so its 'head' was on top, but Loric was not content to simply let it recover. Again, the blade descended on Mud, but this time the golem had learned from its past mistake.
Slipping slightly forward at the last moment, Mud positioned itself so that the force of the blow would push it directly into the floor of the arena. Throwing a punch into the path of the blade, Mud hardened not only its fist. Stretching from its fist, through its entire body, and finally stabbing with point into the arena floor was an entire pillar of highly compressed mud.
Again blade struck fist, but the result was very different. Braced against the ground, the black-cloaked child didn't flinch. Loric's scimitar was deflected back, and a shocked look appeared on the swordsman's face. Taking advantage of his confused and imbalanced state, Mud turned its torso and threw its free arm towards to punch him in the gut. Despite the unexpected situation, Loric was no slouch. He pulled his hips back just enough that the punch couldn't hit him. Just as Mud expected.
As the golem's fist barely grazed the swordsman's armor, Mud released the Force Bolt it had been holding since being ordered to fight like a man. As long as a spell is cast while touching it still counts as melee, or so the golem reasoned.
The force of the Bolt struck heavily into the swordsman, but Mud was disappointed that he was only sent a few steps backward and not knocked down.
Regaining his balanced, Loric settled into a much lower stance than he had used previously. The look of rage distorted his face for some time now was replaced with a calm and calculating expression. Before Mud could analyze the transformation, Loric vanished. In nearly the same instant, the golem felt a weight on its shoulder. Swiveling its head around, Mud found the swordsman, calmly resting his scimitar against the golem's neck.
"Stop! The match is over. Loric wins."
At that announcement, a roar of applause burst out in the arena, alongside praise towards the unexpected fighting skills of the young Mud.
Loric lifted his blade from the kid's shoulder and sheathed it. Despite his victory, he was bitter. It was disgraceful how hard that child had pushed him. Praise for his opponent rang out behind him as he took his seat and returned to his drink. He scowled into his drink. That fight was a bitter reminder to never judge a Sapient on their appearance alone, and to never underestimate an enemy. Cob was going to mock him for months over this...