A lone guardian stood atop a stone pedestal in the center of an open courtyard. He had been in the same location for three nights, slowly chanting at a barely audible volume. He almost appeared to be a simple statue, except for his flowing hair and half-robe. None but the highest officials of the school knew his particular reason for being at the Academy of Magic, and no one had risked bothering the formidable figure to ask his purpose. Sargoth was aware of all motion around him, and even some of the whispered conversations nearby, but his primary focus was on the chant. Unseasonal storm clouds had hung in the sky almost permanently during the guardian's stay, but they had never even released a drop of water or a spark of lightning. Sometimes Sargoth would raise his voice and his call, resulting in a loud roar from overhead, though the courtyard was usually clear when he reached this point in his meditation.

The stone pedestal had been created by his request as a focal point for his mental training. He had been given the largest decorative courtyard with the least amount of typical foot traffic, and for a good reason. Sargoth actually had a choice due to the recent shortage of students, but he chose the most distant courtyard from the main structure of the Academy. It was time for him to begin.

While no other living being occupied the preset space around him, Sargoth rose to stand straight as he bellowed into the clouds above. The winds picked up in a large radius around the Storm Kindler, forming a nearly impenetrable wall of hurricane speed air. Soon, large shards of ice filled that spinning vortex, preventing most anyone from entering the rudimentary arena. Several open benches typically used for peaceful study were quickly occupied with onlookers who could not believe their eyes.

The guardian spread his wings and raised his arms in the air, calling out and allowing the clouds to spread the words to the four winds, "Mithranduir, by the order of the storm, you have been challenged!"

Mithranduir was walking through the halls of Academy of Magic when he heard the voice. What the. then wind blew firecely through the hall and muffled the rest of his sentence.
He thought That voice...I know that voice. Well there's only one way to find out. Then he started twords the courtyard. As he neared he felt the wind pick up and knew he was on the right track. As he entered he drew Narsil and approached the building summoning a storm out of habit. As the two storms met so did their casters. Sargoth your a Storm Chanter?! He knew Sargoth so he let down is gaurd just a little to much.Since when? I thought I was the only Storm Kindler. then he waited for a reply.

The guardian had been consulting on this plan for some time, even before he had moved to the Academy of Magic to set the stage. He had been called by the storms during one of his lengthy chants and was told that another like him had been using the power of the Kindler with disrespect; he was one who used rather than asked, one who disrespected the Code of the Four Winds. As an act of submission to the powers granted to him in this world, he heeded their request to challenge the man and instill the proper mannerisms befitting a true Storm Kindler. He was to teach an important lesson gone missing in the heart of his opponent.

Sargoth's eyes clashed with heavy lightning as he peered through the gasping crowd to spot his opponent. A sword gleamed in his hand while a group of clouds began collecting over his head. The light in his eyes vanished as Sargoth regained the purpose of his mission. He still seemed rocked by the wind, but the center of the arena was as still as a hurricane's eye. It was only the storm within him brewing and causing his hair and clothes to rustle. He spoke loudly again, echoing his words off the clouds: "Mithranduir, you have faced your challenge. By the Code of the Four Winds, you will engage in battle with the Storm's Chosen in order to bear witness to your punishment. For disrespecting the Code, you will enter the arena and fight me. The Winds have turned their back on this battle, so it will be settled without the use of powers directly attributed to them."

With his speech ended, the clouds in the center of the arena diminished to nothing, but the arena wall held with full force and potency. A large, visible tendril of wind snapped outward and tried to wrap itself around Mithranduir in an attempt to hurl him into the center of the cirlce. Mixed screams and gasps echoed from the audience.

This caught Mithranduir by surprise as he flew twords the center of the arena Woha! as he got up he said to Sargoth.What is the meaning of this! What Code I know of no such thing but if I did break this code punish me as you wish. Then he dropped to his knees and waited for him to kill him if that was his punishment.

Ace was out for the week. As he walked towards the academy He saw a large coluod looming overheaad. He looked to Draco and then to Bruno. "It seems as though someone's class has gotten completely out of hand," Ace thought to himeself as his face contorted in anger. "They better pray it is handled before I get over there. they better have a good excuse as well. who would be responsible.... Liannnas deals with the art of wind ....I doubt her powers go to this extent and she seemed as one who could control her class....Prehaps Jeff....no It couldn't be him. He had a pathetic lesson plan and I doubt would amount to anything like this. But then who...." Ace and Draco thought to each other over the telepathic link as Ace hastened his walk to the arena. Ace's hair, eyes, and scales slowly changed from green to silver as he got closer to the courtyard.


Ace was displeased to hear Sargoth's words as he came close enough to veiw what was going on. He watched Mithranduir be pulled into the arena and the two clouds overhead dispate into nothing. "Who on Imythess let them have this fight on the grounds of the Academy of magic. I turn my back for a week and things like this happen? What is this world coming to? Why couldn't they chose the Academy of Arms? And why did he chose this courtyard this is where I caused that one girl to go comepletely insane.... What? ...oh sorry I didn't tell you about that one Ace... Heh heh....Well we can always enjoy the show. You did say that Mithranduir had missed scheduled classes and wanted to see him punished, but never got around to it."

Sargoth watched with his arms crossed over his nearly bare chest as the lash of air swept Mithranduir within the arena's radius. He no longer had control over the entity that surrounded the two men; he was only the father, no longer the overlord. He was simply a vessel to convey the Code and now the Four Winds seemed to be moving the plan forward from there. He was merely a pawn for a higher power, but a willing pawn. Whether he was moved to challenge a god or squash an ant, he was ready to carry out the request. He knew the Four Winds to be an unshaken source of intellect, reason, and generosity; they were the source of change to the natural world and were endowed with those traits out of necessity.

Sargoth pitied the Storm Kindler in front of him, who was now showing more than ever that he was just a simple man. Sargoth knew that Storm Kindlers could not really be only simple men. They were chosen for a reason and granted a gift, but sometimes some lost sight of that fact. But he was not here to judge Mithranduir, he was here to carry out orders. Amazingly, some of the onlookers seemed more than irritated that Mithranduir seemed to be giving up.

"If you choose to forfeit your right to defend yourself, so be it," Sargoth stated, almost seeming to be quoting memorized lines. In fact, he had spent three nights being fed the entire contents of the Code, repeatedly, so that he was reminded exactly what he was being asked to uphold.

Sargoth rotated on the balls of his feet so that his side was directly pointing at the kneeling man and he twisted his neck to look straight down his shoulder at him. The guardian, using almost mechanical precision, raised his arms, one pointing in a straight line over Mithranduir's head, the other pulled back so his fingers touched his cheek. Within moments, Sargoth's bow appeared within his hands and he bent at the waist to point the sharp arrow tip only slightly above the top of his target's head, slightly to the right. He let his breath out slowly and held it at its shallow point before releasing the string. A cutting sound of whistling air was followed by a delayed twang as the missile was loosed, heading toward Mithranduir's right shoulder.

*Walking through the acadamy of magic, he was playing with a dead squirrel he found. He had done all the required hand guestures and spoke the words that make the dead move to his command. He made sure it was in no one's way as he travelled down the halls. He held out a hand to perform a very small enervation spell. Black tendrils flowed from his fingers to the paws of the dead squirrel. He hoped that he could make it look like a puppet dancing on strings, but the spell just burnt right through the critter and all that was left after a few seconds was nothing but ash. He sighed and smirked* Ah well, guess I don't even know my own strength.*While inside this place of magic, Kore didn't like to bottle his power, so his eyes were pitch black with whisps of black smoke flowing slowly form them everytime his heart beated. He wasn't armed with any weapons--except for Kilgorin, which never left his side, because He felt in a place of magik, it was only right to be armed with just that.

As he travelled through looking for something else to do, he held up his hand, letting the flames that burned within him appear in the palm of his hand. It was a black flame--with some of the properties of a regular red flame, except this flame was cold as death itself. What could be made out from his eyes, it appeared he was following the dance of the fire. Then with a thought, he began to sculp a figure out of it. The figure became clearer as he thought. AFter it was finished he smiled and looked at it closer.

As he looked upon it, his eyes widened as he noticed who was crafted out of the flame.*Her? But why? *Before he could try and make out why it was that this was happening, a booming voice resounded throughout the halls, knocking Kore off his feet. He looked around, then perked up his ear* That sounded like Sargoth...*He ran to see what was the problem, but by the time he reached there his eyes snapped back to normal and he just watched as Sargoth seemed to be handing Mithranduir a beating and Mith was taking it willingly.* Oh this is too good to not see.*He stood there by the entrance and watched with mild anxiety*

Then the arrow came at him and he said I won't die like this! Then he attempted to jump out of the way but it was to slow so the arrow entered his side and he screamed in pain and he yanked it out. Then he looked at Sargoth and said with a smirk on his face I decided to fight Sargoth prepare yourself! then he ran at him and brought Narsil into striking posistion. Why are you doing this? I never knew about a code. Please as we fight tell me about it. it said with a little bit of disdain in his voice because he was irritated. Then he slashed at him hoping to make contact.

Sargoth tossed his bow aside immediately after he saw Mithranduir beginning to move out of the way of the arrow. The weapon flew through the air but vanished before it hit the ground, returning to the seed of power anchored in his upper chest. Sargoth's face looked still and solemn, as if he were an executioner who was given a dull axe. He looked like he could do nothing more but continue hacking. Sargoth whispered a few words as a wall of stone skin formed around his body, having been hastened by Sargoth's natural talents at spellcasting. It appeared abnormally thick and durable compared to a natural instance of the magic. He remained silent as Mithranduir requested an explanation. He only understood that there was no mistake of his violations, he had indeed broken the code and continued to do so now. Sargoth had been told that his enemy was spoken to on many occasions by the storm, but he had never listened.

His hands were not bare for long as Taegris appeared, being held hilt outward by Sargoth's right hand with the blade tipped back onto his shoulder. The guardian seemed to frown slightly as Mithranduir closed some more of the distance between the two combatants. Sargoth reached out with his open left hand and seemed to reach to the ground, using telekinesis to grab a handful of stones from the ground and hurl them toward the running man's face. There were at least six of the rocks, five of which were obviously cracked and sharp. The sixth was a river rock with a rounded surface.

The weapons master returned his second hand to a more ready position, awaiting the results of his small spell and the expected counterattack. Around the two, the wind seemed to howl as if it was cheering, the blocks of ice beginning to concentrate in a solid ring about chest height of Mithranduir. The sounds of the audience was sometimes almost inaudible thanks to the impressive volume of the swirling cage.

Mithranduir was serious now, he wondered why he was doing something like this he let hatred control him. No not any more. He stopped in his tracks and sat down. The rocks flew over his head and broke into harmless pieces when they hit the wall.

He closed his eyes and meditated and tried to calm his emotions. He listened intently for anything that might harm him like Sargoth. Then something unexpected happened. A word came in on what seemed the wind. It was "Caution". Then he opened his eyes and looked around but couldn't see the person who said that and then he heard "You are relieved of your Strom Kindler ability for now!" Mithranduir was thrown into the air and four lighting strikes came and drained him of his lighting ability, then the four winds took his winds control. Then rain came and took his control rain ability. and he fell to the ground the Wind has turned their back on him.

((OOC: I guess you decided not to make those changes after all.))

There was a moment of stillness as the guardian watched his opponent being racked by elemental anger. Normally, a person was not affected in such a manner, according to historical records of the few previous duels, but Sargoth had little interest in stepping in. If fate deemed this to happen, so it would happen. He twisted his neck from side to side, hearing a few loud cracks coming from his spine. He knew it was only audible to him, it was more of a vibratory sound than anything external.

He was growing tired of watching the man squirm in front of him. He had expected a duel, not a slaughter. While he was against harming an unarmed foe, he had given this particular prey enough leeway to calm his emotions. Besides, it was his duty to carry out this task. He reached down into himself and mumbled some arcane words, feeling the power of the spell rise within him. In his still open hand, a red glow began to appear, finally manifesting itself in a large fireball. The flames crackled as they were fed with additional magic, being empowered to ensure a quicker death should that be the result. He flicked his hand forward and the ball of fire flew forward, slightly at an arch so that it would crash down in the center of Mithranduir's chest.

Sargoth returned his hand to the hilt of Taegris as soon as the spell was released, ever on guard for a sneaky maneuver.

Why are do you do this?!As he said this he jumped high in the air as the fireball came and it hit his leg thrwing off his jump and he started to spin.


When he came down and hit his face on the ground. He got up and said Which code did I violate!? Was it because of my arrogance? Anwser me! Oh, I see I know why you want to kill me. Your trying to kill me off so you can be the best at strom kindling! I am the only threat to you. Ya I know what your going to say, your going to say I broke the code of the four winds but there was an ulterior motive, you just had to find a rule I broke even if you had to modify the Code so it would put on the appearance that I indeed broke the rule. Now tell me if I am right or wrong. On that note I won't attack you anymore. On my honor as a wizard and, what looks like, a former Storm Kindler. Then he let out a breath and relxed a little if he was going to kill him he would do it now but he had a good feeling that he wouldn't.

"You are sorely mistaken, Mithranduir. You have yet to mount a single attack at all. It is a pity, as well, since a good fight might have satiated the Winds enough to drop this cage around us. But death works just as well for freedom. If you truly believe this is for spite, then perhaps your last dying thought will bring you the realization that I would not trap myself, nor give up my powers for this fight should it be entirely for ego," he stated, giving the faltering man one final breath of conversation before the end. "Since you have apparently made up your mind, goodbye."

Sargoth inwardly scoffed at the man's foolish ideas. If he had indeed felt Mithranduir was a threat, there were easier ways to defeat a foe. His general ignorance was becoming annoying, and while he did not like the idea of killing, the idea of not hearing another assumption like that was comforting the feeling of unsurity. Fate seemed to be dealing cards in just the way that the Winds had desired, which was good for Sargoth in the end. He would be tortured and killed if he failed to comply. It was his own personal fate, made perfectly clear to him before he began the match.

Returning to the moment, Sargoth began to move his free hand in an intricate pattern, soon causing a circle to glow red around him. Within moments, the entire area under the effect of the light burst into huge flames that licked the air many feet above. At the same time, they pushed outward and expanded in radius, threatening to fill the entire arena with a vicious firestorm. Sargoth gave an expression as hard as stone as he felt his dagger waiting to be called. If Mithranduir had any sense, he'd try to avoid the flames by stepping into the unaffected inner radius. The guardian would not be caught without a melee range weapon at the ready.

Taegris glinted in the firelight, almost praying to taste blood.

Shadow covered his features and he said in a demonic voice Fine Sargoth you want a fight well here I come! He then ran twords the man and he grabbed thor's bane and threw it at him and then he drew narsil and sped up towards Sargoth then he stopped and jumped high in the air forward and was coming down right on sargoth but he didn't move his blade just yet he had more instore for him.

The guardian shook his head slowly as yet another of his opponents chose the foolish option of attacking from the air. Taegris was swung outward to be held horizontally aligned with his shoulders as he seemed to fall forward. About half way to the ground, he pushed with his bent legs and went sailing forward in a flying tumble. His speed was astounding as he cleared the space beneath Mithranduir's attack radius and wound up behind him. Sargoth had not bothered to try and claim his enemy's discarded weapon after it had clattered uselessly off to his side. Now behind the airborne Mithranduir and out of reach of any normal sword strikes, Sargoth spun around quickly with a waist high horizontal slash, hoping to knick his opponent across the back or stomach, depending whether he tried to turn with the guardian's movement or not.

He was kneeling near the flames of the firestorm as he struck out with a counterattack, feeling the familiar magic manifest as heat near his body. It helped warm his adrenaline which ran through his veins to make his body pound. He was pleased that now he had a fighting prey; he could taste blood in the back of his throat. It was no longer an execution requiring somber moods for all, but rather a battle. Sargoth knew battle well.

When mithranduir saw this he was amazed how fast this God could move. He had been thinking about that if you could kill a God or not. But he doesn't want to kill him, he just wants to have his powers back. It will be hard now that his possesed side has come out and he will stop at nothing to kill, to feel blood.

Then Taegris came and he wasn't expecting it so he got knicked and tumbled to the ground landing with a crack(on his front side). He got up and said Is that all youv'e got? that stunk. Then he waited for his next move.

Absent from Mithranduir's mind that crack had damaged his liver and any more pressure would cause it to collaspe.

((OOC: I am not a god in this thread... yes, this thread has been dragged out that long. Since I began as a mortal I still remain a mortal.))

Sargoth nodded inwardly to himself as he saw the sharp edge of Taegris slip into Mithranduir's back. Drawing blood was a good sign for the batte: he who drew first blood was more than likely the fated victor. This was not so much of a surprise as it was further verification. So far, there was no evidence to make him think losing was even a possibility, after all. Overall, the guardian was surprised to see his opponent topple forward from the impact. Usually, anyone egotistical enough to attack from the air had enough control to land properly, and the tip of Taegris went through clean, so there was no additional force to shove him onto his stomach.

The inward nod turned into an outward shake of his head as his opponent tried an insignificant taunt. Sargoth had managed to draw blood, perhaps more than was even recognized by the man, and the best insult was that is stunk. He considered remarking on the smell of the liquids pouring out of the man's flesh, but it would just fall on deaf ears. Taunting tended to be used as a crutch for a poor performance anyway, so the robed man kept his mouth closed.

Now that the battle had officially begun, a layer of stoneskin was formed around Sargoth's body. He readied Taegris in both hands, holding it forward prepared to strike. In a scoffing tone, he commented, "Then perhaps you should show me something better."

(OOC:ok)
I would like to but you know I can't do anything that powerful I mean you have alot more power than me. Then he was thinking about his next plan of attack. Then it came to him and he knew what he must do. He ran fast and picked up Thor's Bane that was laying not ten feet from his current posisition. Then he wondered why Sargoth did not confiscate it he guessed that Sargoth did not know how much power Thor's Bane stored. Not even Mithranduir knew (Except deep in his sub-concines). Then he ran twords Sargoth and tried to do a mulit-slash "Quick Attack" with Narsil and kept Thor's Bane in his right hand while attacking with his left.

The enchanted guardian watched, almost in slow motion, as Mithranduir attempted to charge forward and deliver a quick series of strikes. Used to quick combat, he decided to avoid the attack radius of his opponent's second weapon and dodged to the outside. His motion did indeed allow him to evade the oncoming rush of slashes, only suffering a tiny nudge from the swung blade that glanced off of his stoneskin. Sargoth was standing on the front of his feet in a partial crouch, ready to move again if necessary, but was currently facing Mithranduir's side. He said a few words, using his mastery over quickly calling spells to his aid to encompass Mithranduir within a weaken spell. His muscles would undoubtedly begin to deteriorate at an amazing rate, perhaps before he could even turn to regain his stance. To take advantage of the spare moment, he began to swing Taegris in a wide sweeping horizontal arch that would send the blade through the entirety of Mithranduir's lower back if he did not move.

He felt his muceles weaken and it began hareder and hareder to hold his sword so he dropped his sword and saw sargoth's attack so he used his last bit of strength to jump out of the way unharmed (for the first time). then he layed on the ground defenseless and weak. Spitting out some blood he said What now Sargoth? What will you do!