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@Joe5665
@Joseph52626

If you are indeed separate people, now is the time to prove yourselves, lift yourself from your lowly noob status and win the crowd's affections.

You should each write a short story about a mage's battle (under 2000 words) send them to me and I'll post them anonymously so that they may be judged.

The first Joe has accepted!

Lmao would their really be a point to multiple accounts on this site?

Well, you'd be a lock to win this competition...

..... cant argue that

Amusing avatar.

The best way to win this though is to go rate all my stories an 8 though. Honestly surprised I don't see that on Eternal given that you were asking how to get to Alison.

why thank you, i thought it appropriate and to be fair i read eternal for the first time before i had an account. and I don't think it ever needed it. Greatness speaks for itself ;)

Although thanks for the reminder :)

I'm very hyped for this

Joseph better not leave us out in the rain after I've gotten all this new bloodthirst, or else I'm gonna have to challenge... I dunno, Isenet or something.

@Isenet

Sentinel may wish to challenge you.

I'm not sure of the exact conditions, but I believe if you defeat him we'll be forced to give you mod powers.

We'll have to take up the mantle of the first duel. Up to 2000 words about a mage battle. The audience was promised wizard fights, so somebody has to deliver.

Unless, of course, @Joseph52626 is willing to prove that he's not a lily-livered POLTROON and actually fulfills his duty as a Joe.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Or should it be: Write! Write! Write!

As all of us can see, the other Joseph logged in to post in another thread, then ran away.

"Coward!"

The crowd jeered at Joseph, already sure of who the winner will be.

...

@Joseph52626
Come on, let's get going.

We all know that the winner is gonna be Joe

Can I fake to be another joe?

As far as I'm concerned Joe already won. 

Plus it's amusing to think that Tiger King is posting here from prison.

@The7thContinent

You are now the new Joseph. Give the scripty shit a rest and let's see some epic mage on mage action. You will need to learn to write good if you ever want anyone to care about your item clicking game anyway.

don't do this to me lol. I have good ambitions and I bet you wont be dissapointed!

But we need someone to have a writing duel with Joe. He already turned in a story and the other Joseph is a coward and a failure.

All you need to do is write a normal short story about mages fighting and DM it to me.

Can I help, the kiddo with his story? I feel sad for him.

me?

im beyond help I think lol

Goddammit Mara you are a grown ass woman, stop trying to charge into the Pee Wee League field, it's not what you think it is.

I can not see poor kiddo in literature danger without offering help. It is a flaw I have. They remind me of stray kittens lost in the city.

Well this is ridiculous, someone has to stand in for Joseph.

@Lux_Inferni

You are now Joseph.

Kekw

I was scared I’d actually get chosen

@Lux_Inferni
Have fun :)

You already have a storygame published, you're safe.

Oh.

About that…

Don’t worry, lad.

That flame has died a while ago.

This seems fair. The winner will get Joseph's 22 points as a prize.

This has inspired me to write a small duel story about 2k. We could make a tiny topia of this event

So if you lose, Joseph takes the L. If you win, you take all Joseph's shit.

This is the true CYStian way.

Joseph: I want to interact with the CYS community more.

Also Joseph: Lemme not

I fell asleep and forgot to post the stories.

It started as an average morning of ale drinking between friends, but quickly devolved into an argument over the Savarian plague and the necromancer epidemic of Savar. Tyndar, the drunk court wizard, attempts to transmute the battle mage’s ale into acid. Instead, it turns all the alcohol in the tavern into acid. What few patrons are there scream at the acid devouring their flesh. The barkeep has enough sense to climb up on the bar before the acid can eat through her shoes.

Her face reddens and before Tyndar and Kalban, the battle mage, can react, she grabs a fistful of their robe collars. “If I see either of you in my tavern again,” She drags them to the door and kicks it open, “I’ll make sure you’re both impaled on stakes in the capital square,” and throws them out on their asses.

“This is your fault.” The battle mage flicks a puddle of water in the court wizard’s face.

Tyndar wipes the water from his face and raises a clump of sludge from the sewer, “I’m not the one that told the barkeeper her breasts resemble tree burls, now am I?” The wad flies and hits Kalban between the eyes.

“You’ll pay for that, cur!”

A crowd forms around the two men, drawn by the screaming and petty insults. The crowd grows and con-men set up tables to take bets on who will win. It doesn’t take long for the debris and small sewer beast flinging to turn into petty attempts at murder. The crowd panics when Kalban summons a fire elemental, many are trampled to death and more suffer broken bones from attempting to flee.

The elemental loops around the wizard, uncaring about the buildings it bumps into and sets fire to. It pelts the wizard with wisps. Tyndar weaves a forcefield to protect himself from the elemental and the splinters attempting to needle him. He pulls the water from a nearby well and traps the elemental within a sphere. The temperature drops and the water freezes into an icy prison.

With his concentration split three ways, the wizard can’t keep the forcefield up. It shatters when Kalban flings a large chunk of wood, torn from the tavern’s doors, at it. The splinters pierce Tyndar’s flesh, his concentration breaks and the temperature returns to normal. The ice becomes brittle enough for the elemental to break through, even if it is weak.

It bashes against the ice twice before it cracks, one more bash and it makes a hole. The elemental darts into one of the burning buildings. Kalban is no longer in control of it and neither the mage nor the wizard show interest in the damage it’s causing. A trail of burning buildings are left in its wake and it’s on the other side of the city before the high priest can exorcise it.

The battle between wizard and mage rages on. Glass is ripped from windows and stone torn from streets and structures surrounding them. A guard tries to separate the two and is rewarded with two transmutation spells that turn him into a dragon-cat. The remaining guards keep their distance to dodge stray spells and the ones directed at them. They throw spears and fire arrows at the two men, there are some casualties from the effort. However, the guards are able to drive Tyndar and Kalban through the city gates and lock them out.

“Your mother couldn’t satisfy a dog even if she tried!”

Kalban throws the wizard toward the forest edge with a blast of wind followed by a bolt of lightning. “At least my mother isn’t a feral imp!”

The wizard shields himself from the lightning and tries to cushion his landing as much as possible. He tries not to struggle for breath when he lands, pretending to be unconscious while he digs a boulder out of the earth.

The mage, aided by Zephyr, stands before Tyndar. He crouches and stares at the wizard’s face for a few moments, unaware of the boulder breaching the earth some yards away. Kalban stands, twists a branch into a spike, and readies it to pierce the wizard’s heart.

Tyndar grabs the wooden spike, hatred burning in his eyes, “You bastard, you swore you wouldn’t use that against me.”

The boulder hits Kalban and keeps hurdling across field. Kalban liquefies himself and slides off. The rock crashes into a chicken coop and the flock scatters. Tyndar makes his way across the field and Kalban solidifies himself.

Tyndar eyes the chickens. Both men have the same idea and struggle over the birds. The birds are roughly divided between them and begin floating in the air, surrounded by purple energy. They swell until they’re almost perfectly spherical. Kalban throws his chickens first, but Tyndar is quick to respond in kind.

Chicken bombs bounce off of each other’s shields in varying directions. Some hit the garden, more hit the house, and the rest decimate the surrounding field and the nearby trees. The hut is barely standing and the once charming garden looks pitiful.

The mage and wizard heave, barely able to stand from their lack of energy. Malevolent hatred blankets the area and terror paralyzes them. A woman steps out of the forest, her beautiful face is twisted with rage. “You’ve turned my chickens into bombs,” she says, hardly above a whisper. “And you’ve used them to destroy my garden,” her voice steadily rises into a howl, “and my house! Give me a damned good reason as to why I shouldn’t just gut you both in front of the emperor and read his fortune!”

Tyndar and Kalban struggle to speak with the terror spell affecting them. The witch lets the spell up enough for Kalban to speak, “Well, you see—,”

“I swear to all that is holy and unholy, if you goblin fuckers have been arguing about the differences between mages and wizards again, I will kill you.”

Tyndar breaks part of the terror spell and squeaks out, “It was about the Savarian plague and the necromancer epidemic, I swear!”

Full of hope, the mage says, “We can repair your home, restore your livestock, and have your garden thriving again by the end of the day.” The woman doesn’t respond. “If you would allow us to repay your kindness for letting us live, of course.”

“Fine.”

Meanwhile, at the palace, a hooded figure approaches the throne, “Your excellency, I have perfected the potion of violence.”

“Is that why my court mage and chief battle wizard have left a trail of destruction all over the city and left another leading Edra’s hut?”

The hooded figure folds their arms behind their back, unwilling to admit their part in the current mess. Or any previous messes left by the two imbeciles, “Perhaps, but the potion is ready for the Vanarian efforts in Savar.”

The sun shines bright on another monotonous day. Jakobs scouting party hasn't seen anymore of those dreaded trolls in weeks. Their constant raids have actually died down since the main army drove them from their homeland, hence why Jakob is the only Battle Mage stationed at the nearby Fort Greene. With the increasingly lessened presence of the feral foes one could hope for a transfer to another front, maybe even one where a battle mage would be needed…. That's when a thunderous roar and the gaping hole in the soldier to his side, shakes him from his inner thoughts.

“DOWN” Is all that can be heard before the entire clearing is filled with nothing other than smoke and hot lead. It's as if it's coming from everywhere at once, But this isn’t traditional small arms fire. That man had a hole the size of his head missing from his chest. They must have some kinda canon hidden somewhere. Jakob knows those wild trolls had a hard time even mastering archery, this has to be the Balgans. Our kingdom’s have had a non-aggression pact for decades, but some would say that war has been on the horizon for quite a while.

With another blast tearing through his nearby comrades, Jakob spots the gunner and in a heartbeat hurls a bolt of lightning straight for him. The area lights up in a magnificent display of power before its light only intensifies as it must’ve ignited some kinda powder storage. Without a single second to spare Jakob uses all the energy he can to completely engulf anything in flames that wasn't already. With the enemy at least pacified for now the last few men alive grab Jakob, who does his best to protect them from the flames as they desperately search for salvation. Before long Sergeant Wikes yells “ FUCK IT evryone DIG” And like that jakobs dumped to the floor barely able to breath. In his half conscious state Jakobs barely makes out the image of his scouting party digging for the love of all that is holy, only worrying about their survival and nothing else. To their credit most actually did it, Jakob hears a few separate screams in his trance of life and death, but he doesn't care, he can feel the heat of the inferno growing closer, but doesn’t care, he cant care. His body will not allow him to.

As the flames completely encompass the are where his former comrades were, some actually seem deep enough to be protected. Others scream and attempt to flail about in complete vanity. The fire now glides over him but does not touch him. Its heat, while hot enough to melt the walls of Fort Greene herself, does not burn him. This sensation feels almost intimate, but deadly all the same. Now this blazing inferno even seems sentient, as if it's calling to him. Its call turns to many as an eruption of a million voices courses through his mind. None making any sense, none appealing to his rationality, yet the overall Command is clear. Rage, Pain, and Destruction. These tenets have become all that Jakob ever is or ever will be. Realizing this, Jakob see’s the mounds of Fort Greene’s finest and carefully, one by one drags the remainder of the them out of their pathetically built shelters only to watch their flesh melt from bone. Not a single word is spoken as their pathetic whimpers turn to shouts of anguish.

Once its all said and done the forest fire around mysteriously dies out, almost instantaneously. All that Jakob is left with is a complete and utter hatred. Hatred for the Balgans and their cowardly ambush, Hatred for his subordinates that left him to cook, Hatred for himself even. Almost tempted to reignite his lost passion, literally, Jakob is overcome with a new feeling. A spirit that is not his own, one that compels him onward.

After hours of senselessly following this urge, Jakob finds himself atop a large hill overlooking Fort Greene. It would seem the Balgan’s failed attempt to rid this fort of their only mage was followed by a marching army already moving siege equipment in. It matters not, he doesn't know why or how, but he knows it doesn’t. Immediately ancient, infernal words not spoken in eons find themselves placed upon his lips. These words weave through his very being binding him to this unknown spector. After their effect has taken hold Jakob loses his grip on the world. Any shred of conscience he had left is obliterated and replaced by a constant, drilling laughter. When it ends Jakob finds himself standing exactly where he was in the exact same moment, but now he could see gates to faraway places opening up through space and time. As the first of the Damned legions pour through, all Jakob can do is smile. His newly found purpose has only been validated now and it is time for the ball of change to get rolling. His pathetic kingdom's dominion over this world is no more, as is every other. Teleporting to the front of his newly summoned army, Jakob allows no time for the enemy to make sense of the thousands of forkers suddenly preparing for battle, and sounds the command to charge. What follows is absolute carnage with demonic shock troopers, sturdy buggers in full plate armor, slaughtering anything that resists. Some werewolf looking creatures guard giant slugs slowly moving forward spitting acid at far ranges, even flying wyverns wreak havoc with their riders occasionally losing an arrow or two.

The Balgan Vanguard is put down relatively quickly, but there is no distinction between friend or foe as the defenders soon learn. Acid melts through some walls, some are brought down by sheer force, and others are even scaled by insect-like foot troops. There is hardly a need but regardlessly Jakob can't help but take part in the horrid scene before him. Before long the fort is destroyed far beyond repair and any captured forces are only left alive to be playthings for Jakob and his new Masters. Jakob can be seen standing atop what's left of the ruined battlements looking over what will soon be conquered land, all sense of life drained away and replaced with an insatiable hunger. One that can only grow.

2. The bigger the paragraph, the more impressive the writing.

Wrong place to vote, therefore invalid.

What are you, the placement police?

It doesn’t matter :)

It’s really hard to screw up where to post though, lol.

To be honest I was just as surprised when the thing was placed above where I wanted it to go

I now officially declare Peng to be the Placement Deputy of the forum.

Thank you, I shall work tirelessly to correct all message placements.

I vote for story 2

My man

Mmmmm.

Everyone place your votes in response to this post.

And whoever wins, let it be known that @Lux_Inferni and @Joe5665 are still leaps and bounds better than the coward @Joseph52626. Forever.

My vote will have to go to the second story.

Voting for story No. 1

I vote for the first one

I'll go for story 1

1 is nice, yes.

I vote story 1

I found the action in 1 to be more engaging.

1, with extreme reluctance.

One

They were both quite good, but I prefered 1 slightly

Gotta say both stories are way better than what we usually get when we send two noobs to the Thunderdome. Buuut I am starting to notice a pattern to these votes.

Bring in the eleven year old who won much renown by defeating me, the Great and Powerful Corgi. So she can wreck this clown too 

@FemaleWolverine

I think what Corgi is trying to say is that he demands a rematch.

I'm down for it.

@corgi213, @mizal, cool, how about we have it on October 10th?

Won't work, I will certainly be working that day. I won't have time to come up with something decent and write and polish it in time. Assuming it's a 24 hour thing. 

I would also like to request the topic of the writings be about a duel please. I sort of have an idea for a short story that could work around that, haven't written any of it tho

You guys can't know the theme in advance or you could write it in advance. Agree on a day and I'll give the theme then and maybe like 72 hours.

All right, story #1 by Lux_Inferni has won by a landslide. He gets Joseph's 22 pointless points!

Thank you both for participating, particularly Joe who was a really good sport about getting summoned to a writing duel on a forum he'd never posted on. No doubt if the other Joseph hadn't been such a coward, or if 7thContinent hadn't been such an apathetic lump, the voting results would've turned out differently.

Joe's story I think suffered from being rushed, he sent it in very quickly and there were some typos and things as well as being the shorter of the two. I actually liked the mix of magic and gunfire, the scale of the action and the internal struggle Jakob went through, but Lux's was closer to the theme of a battle between (more than one) mage as well as showing off an inventive use of magic in a variety of ways. (And the reason that any civilized society would realistically just purge magic users as soon as they're identified...)

Oh, and both of you should get a commendation for your stories but they're attached to my posts, just reply to this and I'll give them out here instead.

Thanks for the kind words yall, can't wait to get back to writing whatever it is.