The Tempest walked into the arena. Like so many of his matches, there was a huge turnout. Then, Jandor mentally slapped himself (being psionic, he actually made it sting a bit). This wasn't just an ordinary match, it was a duel to the death, against one of the High Court. The arena was the same as ever. Yellow sand swirled around Jandor’s feet, but the little whirlwinds were stopped dead at the black walls surrounding the arena floor, pooling in little dunes. The black walls rose up about ten feet, and were enchanted so that not even the most powerful blow could scrathc it. At the top of the wall sat the boxes where the richest and most important of the city sat. After another tall wall to protect the rich, rows upon rows of seats for the downtrodden. Magical magnifiers allowed even the highest seats to see the action happening below up close and personal.
Looking across at his opponent, Jandor shook his head. The fool man was wearing full plate armor. The full suit of metal plates looked impressive to an observer and provided great protection in most fights. However, this was not most fights, and the armor would weigh down a fighter, slowing down parries and attacks. The Duke held a normal greatsword in both hands that glinted in the sun.
The Tempest drew his own weapons, the twin katanas held out straight out in front of him. He flipped them both over in his hand, blade over hilt, then caught them by the grip. As always he bowed to his opponent. The Duke didn’t bow back, to the jeers of the crowd.
Then the King spoke, " We are here today to see the duel of Jandor of Zauzynge and Duke Jaeron. It will be to death. No person may help or hurt either man until the issue is settled. Also,[” even from the floor Jandor could see the glint in his eyes and the small smile, nearly a smirk, “All titles and possessions go to the victor. ” The Duke’s helmeted head flinched upward and then looked back down. Jandor had known it was coming, and held his face in his grim mask, letting a glint of a smile. As the crowd began to chatter, the King said “ Let the duel begin ” With those words, the Tempest began to whirl.
Both blade began to weave around in his hands, flying around his body. Jandor took a running start and launched himself into the air. The Duke hadn’t even reacted, and the Tempest was above him, his head below his feet. More strikes than any of the observers could easily count fell upon the Duke’s head and shoulders as the whirlwind flew past him. Jandor flipped his feet back under him and landed, astounded that none of his strikes had gotten through. The Duke charged, and Jandor could of had the leisure of picking multiple openings in his defense. Instead he waited, to see the attacks that his opponent was about to attempt. An obviously unpracticed uppercut came in, though it was much faster than Jandor would expect the weak man would be able to swing it. The block was a simple one, two crossed blades should have stopped the swing cold, leaving the Duke’s sword caught in a pincher grip between the two curved weapons. It should have anyway.
The Tempest was launched into the air again, and this time it wasn’t his choice. The power off the blow was amazing, and Jandor was starting to think that armor was more than it seemed. Years of flying had taught the Tempest good air sense, and he was able to turn his sudden momentum into a backflip and land on his feet, much to the glee of the crowd. Jandor came in again, and this time was careful to deflect of dodge the powerful, but badly timed strikes. After about two minutes of the in tight melee, The Tempest had been untouched, while hitting the Duke’s armor in every conceivable place, and he hadn’t even scratched the shining armor. “Oh, Jandor you fool, ” the Duke said, in a condescending tone, “Don’t you know not to challenge people who are so much higher above you? There’s a reason that you are one of the lowest of the low while I’m one of the most powerful men in the city. Why don’t you just give up?” The black skinned drow spat at him and jumped backwards, to decide how to finish him. He knew that it was just a matter of time until the Duke got lucky and cut the drow into two pieces with a wild swing. If he could only suppress the power of that armor for one-second...
Then Jandor remembered a giant he had once battled. He had used his mind to reach into the giants power and steal its strength. When he had killed the thing, it had been too weak to stand. He probably couldn’t directly pull it through the armor, but why not steal directly from the armor. Focusing, Jandor fell into himself, as the Duke caught his breath. He followed the mental pathways into his power, and focused on his blades, turning them into conduits of strength. Stalking back, he started throwing blurred attacks, so fast, not even his own eyes could track them. With each strike, some more strength flowed out of the armor and into Jandor, making his attacks even more powerful, each hit driving the man back. Finally, his left hand katana blasted the greatsword from the Dukes hand, though he also dropped that blade. He took the remaining sword in both hands and swung as hard as he could, adding all his mental and physical strength into the blow, enhanced by the energy stolen from the armor. The sword didn’t break through the armor, but it didn’t need to. The weak man flew through the air until he was stopped, dead, by the wall. He had been shaken to a pulp, and blood started to ooze out of the armor, no longer clean and unblemished.
The King’s voice boomed, “I declare Duke Jandor the winner. The Tempest looked up at the man who given him a chance to become nobility... as long as he had swore to grant the King the armor that the late Duke Jaeron would wear to the arena.
