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OoC: I was sick of all the 'open challenge' thread titles I've seen lately and tried to make a different topic name for a change.

Anyway, I am challenging KirbyBoy2000 in this thread.

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Fort Antagonist
Fort Antagonist is an old abandoned stronghold based on the top of a hill surrounded by various pieces of debris strewn about during attacks. The six-hundred year old structure has been the center of many ravage wars over the centuries. While the Fort still stands tall on top of the mountain, it is very fragile: there are many crumbled floors, stairwells, and walls that will collapse if enough force is applied. Around the base of the two-hundred meter hill is a city left in ruins, from one of the final wars when the Fort was breached at last.

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The large clanking noise of boots echoed within the stairwell. The golden sun rays shined into one of the narrow window slits of the tower, lighting up the figure’s black hair and dark cape as the figure passed by in the otherwise dark, colorless stairwell.

As the man reached the top of the tower, he was greeted by the setting sun in the west. He was a middle aged man, approximately 5’7” tall with tanned skin and brown eyes. In his black shoulder length hair, there were four thin streaks that were dyed a crimson red from the roots to the ends of his hair. Two of the streaks were at the sides of his forehead, while the other two streaks hung over the middle of his ears on each side. He wore a thin black shirt and light black pants. On the outer side of his cape was a black nylon colored fabric, like the rest of his apparel. However, the inside of his cape was made of soft crimson red velvet.

The most distinguishing feature of the man was his boots, once more clanking as he paced towards the southern point of the scout tower. They were sturdy leather boots that rose all the way to the top of his shins. On the front of the boots were strong reinforced steel pieces of armor for protection. The boots certainly did not go with the rest of the man’s attire, seeing as he wore no other heavy armored pieces. However, there was a certain satisfaction the man received when he heard his own heavy boots clank on the ground as he took each step in pride.

Despite the man’s dark appearance, he seemed quite content; he rest his bare palm on one of the stones of the scout tower as he gazed off in the distance. The man listened to the faint sound of waves rolling onto the shorelines of a beach located approximately one mile to the south.

“Ah, how the sound of waves brings one to a peace of mind,” he spoke, elegantly.

He felt at ease until he thought he had spotted a faint figure down below in the distance. He immediately surveyed the surrounding areas from atop the tower he was on. Seeing nothing notable, he hastily proceeded down the tower’s stairwell as he frantically searched for any intruders within the fortress.

It was only a matter of time until his erratic behavior would kick in.

A young man trudged his way up the hill, moving towards the fortress ahead of him. He looked toward the sun with his green eyes; it would not be much longer until it was night. He moved forward towards the entrance of the fortress, a collapsed wall providing little resistance into it.

He stood at an average height and had short brown hair that was both dirty and unkempt. He wore simple brown pants and a black shirt, though the latter was covered by a vest made of leather and what looked like sand colored scales. Around his forearms were large bands matching his vest, though on the top of either of them was a fairly large metal bar.

He walked deeper into the fortress, stopping as he heard a clinking of metal in the distance, which became louder and louder every time. He soon saw what was making the noise, a man in black and red, with metal plates across his legs. That man looked at the intruder with a glare, intent to remove him from the fortress.

OoC: I'm really sorry about the 3-week delay. I would like to continue and aim for finishing this battle (unlike many of the others around here) if you're up to it.

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The man was stationed on top of some stairs that led down to the courtyard that the two were in. He stared down his intruder for a moment before drawing his eyes across the surface of the stone pathways and unkempt grass of the courtyard up to his own position. After a brief moment, he seemed to sigh in relief.

“Forty-eight meters,” he analyzed. “Quite ideal.”

He finally spoke, “You have eluded my eyes and breached this fortress. I must commemorate you for that,” he said quite confident. “However, now you are just in plain sight.”

Immediately the man completely spun around in a stylish way, his cape flailing in the air. As he finished his spin, he was already equipped with a bow in hand with an arrow rapidly being readied and released.

The arrow darted towards the intended target until his opponent rolled off to the side. Upon impact, the arrow made a sharp cracking noise. His opponent looked to see the arrow lodged into the ground with small fragments of shattered glass lying nearby. The tip of the arrow was drenched in a liquid that spewed out upon impact.

“They’re pre-made arrows, coated with a glass layer around the tip of each arrow. That was a poisonous one. I have other neat ones, but I’m quite limited on them so I may not be able to show you all of them before I strike you down,” he spoke, with a grin before briefly drifting into thoughts.

“Damnit… right now he’s within my firing range, but his reaction speed is too fast for my arrows at this range,” he thought to himself. “I’ll need to lure him in… closer-“

His hand violently jolted for a brief moment before he regained control. He glared at his distant opponent, once again reassured and smiled once more.

He readied another arrow, this time only a regular arrow, and pulled it back slightly. He aimed high into the sky and released the arrow. The arrow fired up into the air before taking a deep arc and eventually embedding itself into the ground vertically twenty meters in front of him, in the direction of his opponent.

“The name’s Averyl by the way, traveler. Expert marksman,” he paused before continuing. “You see that arrow right there?”

He indicated with his eyes the last arrow he shot in between the two of them.

“That’s the safe zone. Once you cross that marker, you’re in my territory,” he said with bloodlust eyes.

Averyl was once more overwhelmed with another concerning thought at that moment. He quickly grasped his left thigh, feeling his sheath with a long knife inside.

“Good, it’s there,” he thought to himself, noting he just accidentally hinted to having a hidden weapon to his opponent.

“I won’t be needing the knife, old friend. It’s just reassuring to know it's there, y'know.”

With eager confidence, Averyl quickly whipped out another arrow and slid it into place and aimed at his opponent, waiting for him to cross the arrow marker he laid out or to attack otherwise.

OoC: Yeah, sorry for the delay as well. Few problems; mostly laziness though.
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“Averyl, expert marksman you say?” The young man asked, his eyes kept focused on the man a top the staircase. “If it is a fight you want, I’ll take you up on your challenge; though to be honest, I was just planning on resting here.”

Averyl looked down at him, an arrow drawn and pointed at the man. He calls back, “Don’t worry, you’ll have the chance soon enough if you want. Just take a few steps forward.”

The man chuckled. “My name is Dmitri. I think I’ll enjoy knocking that expression off your face.”

He raises his left arm somewhat and opens the palm of his hand. A yellow spark appears floating and trembling within the center of his hand. He raises up in front of him.

“It’s not much now, but in a while it ‘ought to be able to do some damage.” Dmitri walks forward, towards the arrow laid down in the center of the field. He looks up at Averyl once more. “So, anything past here is your territory? I think you’re overestimating your own talent if you think you can stop me from getting to you just like that.”

He quickly broke into a run, heading towards the staircase and off to the left while keeping an eye locked onto his opponent. Averyl watched his target, tracking his movements almost perfectly with the arrow in his hands. He released the shot, the glass tipped arrow soaring down towards Dmitri’s head. With a quick lift of his right arm the arrow shattered against the metal bar on his forearm; a clear liquid splashing out from the arrow across his arm, with a small portion of it touching his face, making it completely numb within seconds.

Another arrow flew towards him, Dmitri dropping to his side to avoid it. With hardly a second of delay Averyl had already pulled back and aimed another arrow at his now fallen foe, which was released within the second it was ready. Dmitri growled and slammed his left hand to the ground, the yellow spark within it vanishing as it touched the earth. Sharp spires of rock rose in front of him, the arrow breaking as a small wall grew in front of him, no more than 3 feet at the highest point.

Dmitri got into a crouching position behind the wall, one of his feet flat onto the ground in case he would have to run again. Within his left hand, another yellow spark of light began to form. He inched his head over to the side of the small stone wall, closely watching his opponents actions as he prepared his next move.