Though it was perhaps unlikely, for a variety of reasons, the landscape was somewhat of a cliche. Fluffy, white clouds that added a slight bounce to each step, in every direction, as far as the eye could wee. Ambient light, as bright as a clear day on the Prime Material Plane, shining as if it were noon, but from no obvious source. An aura of calm. Heaven, or an equivalent.
A deep, distinctly male voice boomed from the white landscape. “Welcome, challenger! Prepare yourself.”
The mage prepared her spells. First, she drew over herself a shield, like a curtain of shimmering light. A haze, the only thing marking that she was protected magically. Then she cast another, this time not a general ward but an injunction against energy discharges. Next, she cast an abjuration protecting against spells that conjured physical objects. She continued in this fashion for some time, while the voice spoke to her challenger.
“You now face the Lady of Wolves. The Keeper of Time’s Conflux, Protector of the Realm, 327th Chief Warlock of the International Confederation, Holder of the Line of Merlin, Tender of the Black Garden, Binder of The Black Goat with a Thousand Young...”
She layered the finishing touches on her shields and telekinetically drew her helmet over her head. In her mind she retrieved a spell’s incantation, and began it. Thirty-fourth path. The invisible sun. Sixth path. The shackles. She held the bone-paths in her mind, ready to cast, and focused on her Sword Logic, drawing the blade forth from her mind. Her fingers twitched, feeling as if it was in her hands already. She knew the thought was silly, that summoning the blade required bloodshed. Soon.
“God-Butcher, Champion of the Nine Realms, Celestial Crusader, Wielder or the Five Flames of Tiamat, Voidwalker, Faerie Queen, ”
She traced the Monas Heiroglyphia in the air with an armored finger, and a latticework of energy spilled from it. When it was finished, it resembled a wall, which slid open, a crack in reality. She entered, the musty smell of dusty tomes by now familiar to her. WIth a wave of her hands she summoned a collection of artifacts from the walls, completing her full repertoire of mystic relics. To an ordinary person’s sight she would have seemed... not mundane, but distinctly non-glowing. But to a mage’s sight, if he looked on the other planes, she would seem wholly different. Her aura would be almost invisible, hidden by the horrible white glow of her Corrupted Angel Armor, the rainbow sheen of her shields, and the auras of the staves, wands, blades, orbs, amulets, and other instruments hidden in otherspace pockets around her. The Heart of Praxic Fire, the Staff of the Archmagi, The Duel Blades (The complete set, something no Supreme had managed to collect since Dee), the Line of Merlin, the Crown of Fae, the Hood of Stars, Gruumsh’s Eye, the Scrying Eye, the Staff of Knowledge, the Tome of Thoth Trismegestus, The Book of Ma’at, the Monas Herioglyphia, her Sword Logic, and many more.
“The Mistress of all Magics, Queen-Guardian of the Realm, Sorceress Supreme, Madame Jean Knightfall!”
She descended.
Well, I wasn't expecting to see him here. What the hell, he needs to be taken down a peg anyways.
"Inferorum ignis!"
The four arms of the armor, two animated, two her own, moved in synchrony, drawing a circle. The movements of her hands traced it, glowing and red, and the two-dimensional circle became a sphere, spinning until it's center ignited, into a miniature sun. The pyromantic spell, bolstered by the Heart of Praxic Fire, rocketed forward, hot enough to turn solids to gasses at thirty yards. The Sorceress Supreme stood unaffected.
She didn't wait to see if the attack struck home, instead tracing a different symbol with each hand. She fired off an invisible scrying spell, intending to rip knowledge from the Delver's mind, feeling him unprotected by his accursed anti-magic field. If it succeeded, she would gain at least a rudimentary understanding of how his 'magic' worked, as well as his true name, which he had concealed from her multiple times.
After launching the second attack, Jean, with the second actual hand, set her shield's harmonics to rotate, meaning that any reflected attack would not pass through her shields to hit her as it had passed outwards. A relatively simple defense, and almost certainly pointless against someone who barely counted as a novice mage, at least in terms of refined skill, but it was standard dueling form, and she had to keep in practice for other opponents.
Using the next limb, this one mere metal, she pulled a weapon out of otherspace, arming herself for melee combat with the Archmagi's Staff. In her other hand, the Line of Merlin. A magical 'key,' used for opening locks set by any other Sorcerer Supremes. If she lost this tournament, she would give it up to the victor, but she expected not to do that. Not overconfidence, simply past experience, and the knowledge that she was better at this than any other. The Line held no utility at this moment, but any number of future plans might hinge on it being there, and it was a sign of status, even if it would hold no special significance to one such as the Architect.
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