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The Barrens, late 625 K.C. A single Blood Elf Woman was sitting at an area within the Barrens that was inhabitable, to say the least, drought to the point causing suffering to any living thing that'd dare venture in there. Yet, she was donned in her Light Plate armour of the Blood Knight kind, an elite warrior class within the Blood Elves. Wearing such heavy arour seemed like a rather insane decision given the climate. But as the strong winds packed full of heat were hitting her face, blowing away her hair and cloak, she had but the most benign of facial expressions there ever was, simply looking ahead, clearly awaiting something.
She had round, green eyes like all other Blood Elves, her face adorned with light makeup that complimented her features. She had two golden rings dangling off both her ears, grasping tightly onto her gold-embroidered longsword. The figure of a man hidden away by a cloak was next to her. The man in question seemed unaffected by the wind in a rather odd fashion. The sand particles flying about the air seemed to be going straight through him.
The Sin'dorei Woman would raise herself as the wind kept beating her skin towards where she was facing, but she didn't stumble, looking straight ahead, making out the silhouette of an on-comer. The Sin'dorei took a deep, heavy breath as the mysterious figure of a male standing next to her started speaking.
"Ceirene, it is not too late to withdraw. This Orc- he is a savage, one of the worst of his kind. The savagery shown by the Iron Horde is next to nothing when compared to this beasts'."
The figure spoke in a pleading tone. The discouraging words of it seemingly only strengthening the Blood Elf's resolve.
"If I am to die by a mindless brute, Galan, then let it be known that I had deserved it."
The male figure would look down dejectedly as the woman stood with her weapon drawn and at the ready as the silhouette was getting closer and closer.
"Very well, Ceirene. I will send a mirror image of you two into the arena once both of you arrive. Remember, it is a fight to the death, where the winner will make ten gold pieces... which really isn't worth it..."
The woman would twist her lips as if she was squinting, trying to make out the silhouette ahead; clearly displeased.
"Shut up about this, Galan. We all have our duties to fulfill."
"Yes Ceirene, of course..."
The Male figure would mumble before re-gaining his composure.
"The first one to knock their opponent out cold for more than a minute will win, presuming that they weren't also dead given the moment. If both contestants die in a battle, the fight will be declared a win for the warrior who died second and compensation in gold will be made to the family members of the said combatant."
The Male, who was now identified as Galan would say, sounding almost as if he was reading it off of something. His words would drag on and on, getting more sorrowful as they did.
"I've already informed the Orc about all this- say, about ten minutes ago- he knows that as soon as he approaches you in full, a mirror image of both of you will be cast into the arena by me and you will be in front of thousands of people, many of whom are influentials on their own..."
As he kept on speaking his words would get more and more unnatural, again as if he was reading it off of something.
"Which... is why we're here, Galan. Let's not forget that."
The Blood Elf would say determinently, having a strong rouse about herself. It would only sadden the man named Galan further.
"Ceirene... please come off victorious today as you have done many times before."
The Blood Elf woman, who was now identified as "Ceirene", simply lowered her head as a nod to him as the silhouette was slowly taking the shape of a burly Orc in the distance.
"I will, Galan. It's my job to do so."
The male figure of Galan would suddenly vanish into thin air as Ceirene took a breath of the hot, uncomfortable air, closing her eyes and re-opening them, having a determined look about her face as she stood in an offensive attacking pose, waiting for the Orc to fully come into her presence.
She had round, green eyes like all other Blood Elves, her face adorned with light makeup that complimented her features. She had two golden rings dangling off both her ears, grasping tightly onto her gold-embroidered longsword. The figure of a man hidden away by a cloak was next to her. The man in question seemed unaffected by the wind in a rather odd fashion. The sand particles flying about the air seemed to be going straight through him.
The Sin'dorei Woman would raise herself as the wind kept beating her skin towards where she was facing, but she didn't stumble, looking straight ahead, making out the silhouette of an on-comer. The Sin'dorei took a deep, heavy breath as the mysterious figure of a male standing next to her started speaking.
"Ceirene, it is not too late to withdraw. This Orc- he is a savage, one of the worst of his kind. The savagery shown by the Iron Horde is next to nothing when compared to this beasts'."
The figure spoke in a pleading tone. The discouraging words of it seemingly only strengthening the Blood Elf's resolve.
"If I am to die by a mindless brute, Galan, then let it be known that I had deserved it."
The male figure would look down dejectedly as the woman stood with her weapon drawn and at the ready as the silhouette was getting closer and closer.
"Very well, Ceirene. I will send a mirror image of you two into the arena once both of you arrive. Remember, it is a fight to the death, where the winner will make ten gold pieces... which really isn't worth it..."
The woman would twist her lips as if she was squinting, trying to make out the silhouette ahead; clearly displeased.
"Shut up about this, Galan. We all have our duties to fulfill."
"Yes Ceirene, of course..."
The Male figure would mumble before re-gaining his composure.
"The first one to knock their opponent out cold for more than a minute will win, presuming that they weren't also dead given the moment. If both contestants die in a battle, the fight will be declared a win for the warrior who died second and compensation in gold will be made to the family members of the said combatant."
The Male, who was now identified as Galan would say, sounding almost as if he was reading it off of something. His words would drag on and on, getting more sorrowful as they did.
"I've already informed the Orc about all this- say, about ten minutes ago- he knows that as soon as he approaches you in full, a mirror image of both of you will be cast into the arena by me and you will be in front of thousands of people, many of whom are influentials on their own..."
As he kept on speaking his words would get more and more unnatural, again as if he was reading it off of something.
"Which... is why we're here, Galan. Let's not forget that."
The Blood Elf would say determinently, having a strong rouse about herself. It would only sadden the man named Galan further.
"Ceirene... please come off victorious today as you have done many times before."
The Blood Elf woman, who was now identified as "Ceirene", simply lowered her head as a nod to him as the silhouette was slowly taking the shape of a burly Orc in the distance.
"I will, Galan. It's my job to do so."
The male figure of Galan would suddenly vanish into thin air as Ceirene took a breath of the hot, uncomfortable air, closing her eyes and re-opening them, having a determined look about her face as she stood in an offensive attacking pose, waiting for the Orc to fully come into her presence.
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