Touch of Fate

"So, where do we do this?" Mike asked. "I'm assuming that we can't just start fighting in the middle of the street.

Brenden looked at him a little uncertainly, "I think there is a service at the Guild."

Reluctantly, Mike followed the beastman into the building and up to the front desk.

Unfortunately, the Guild was busy, and all of the receptionists had long lines waiting in front of them. He was slightly amused by his current circumstances.

[Never thought I'd be waiting in line to fight a duel. This is really a experience.]

While the pair was waiting, a familiar elf walked up and asked them curiously, "Working together?"

Mike looked over at Tal, and shook his head. "This guy challenged me to a duel, although I'm guessing it's going to be more of a spar than anything else."

Brenden turned around angrily, "It's not a spar! It's a destined battle for supremacy. We can finally determine which of us is stronger."

Tal and Mike looked at the beastman like he had lost his mind.

Tal tilted her head, questioningly, "Unclear?"

"Of course it is!" Brenden asserted, seemingly insulted.

Tal looked glanced between the two for a while before looking back at Brenden. "Don't get hurt."

"...." Brenden was speechless for a second, before flushing angrily, "I'LL HAVE YOU KN-"

"EXCUSE ME!" A call came from behind him. Unbeknownst to the three adventurers, they had already reached the counter. A slightly annoyed receptionist was tapping her fingernails impatiently behind it.

"If you want to chat, I would recommend getting out of line. We have a lot of business to conduct today."

Brenden hurried forward, bowing his head apologetically. "Sorry about that, wasn't paying attention. We'd like to hold a duel. I was told that there is a location in the Guild for such things?"

The receptionist sighed. "Do you want an official duel or just a sparring session? I will warn you that an official duel requires the written permission of the Guildmaster and the Captain of the Wyrport Guard. Do you happen to have it?"

Brenden quietly shook his head, not willing to speak. Throughout the receptionist's speech, both his ears and his tail had been steadily lowering, and now he looked thoroughly dejected.

The receptionist sighed again, muttering 'newbies' under her breath. "I have the requisite forms on hand, but I can tell you right now, unless you have a legitimate grievance, they won't approve it."

The beastman hung his head, now firmly defeated.

The young man's obvious distress struck a chord in the receptionist, her expression of exasperation morphing into one of mild pity.

"A sparring session, on the other hand, only requires that you reserve a portion of the training floor for the duration. I happen to know that there should be more than enough space available right now."

Brenden perked up. Mike noticed that his tail was actually wagging a little bit.

"That will work!" The beastman exclaimed.

The receptionist nodded, had him fill out a few sheets of paper, and directed him to the location of the training floor.

After completing these tasks, Brenden turned around. "Now, Mike, let us begin our duel-"

"Spar." The receptionist called without looking up.

"...Fine. Spar, then. Let us begin our spar!"

Mike chuckled, "Lead the way."

Tal pulled on his sleeve as he was about to start walking. "Can watch?"

"Sure. I don't see why not." Mike said while shrugging.

They followed Brenden to a lower floor of the Guild.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Talin was forced to slam the door to the Guildmaster's office loudly in order to wake her up this time. Apparently, it had proven sufficient to startle her to the point she nearly fell out of her chair.

"Ah, Talin. Good to see you again. What brings you up here?" She asked while stretching languorously.

"Ma'am, I've been trying to get ahold of you since this morning. You requested that I tell you when Michael Rasmussen returned from his request."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like me, but I'll take your word for it. Who is this Mitchel again?"

"Michael, ma'am." Talin exhaled in exasperation. Not for the first time he questioned the sanity of the Guild's promotion methods, which let such a woman be in charge of a major branch. "He is the man you've tasked me with keeping an eye on, the one with the unusual soul."

"Ah, right. I remember now. What did I want from him again?"

Talin felt like slamming his head against the table, but knew it would be counterproductive.

"To meet him ma'am. He's currently on the training floor, in the midst of a spar with another adventurer."

"Alright. I suppose I have some time, so I'll go check him out. Talin, do be a dear and grab me a few of those sandwiches from that place down the street. I think I would like a snack while watching the events."

"As you wish ma'am." He said while leaving. He had already started planning on the logistics of the request, since the Guildmaster's idea of a 'few' was usually sufficient to feed a small army.

[I think there was a wheelbarrow out back....]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The training floor turned out to be a vast open floor in the Guild's basement. Towering support pillars bore the weight of a ceiling dozens of meters overhead. Large crystals glowing with a soft white light provided the illumination for the complex.

In the center of the room sat a miniature coliseum. Rows of audience seats surrounded a combat ring nearly hundred meters in diameter, sunken into the floor. It was currently empty.

12 smaller, and square shaped areas surrounded this central complex. Mike could see a few groups occupying them. Occasional shouts and clashes of metal on metal could be heard.

Brenden led the group over to a bored looking guild official, sitting behind a desk. The man glanced at his reservation confirmation and directed them to one of the smaller areas in a corner.

Mike was a little surprised to see that they were left to their own devices. Evidently, labelling it as a spar, meant that they didn't need some form of Guild supervision.

Soon Brenden and Mike were facing each other in the training yard. Tal was standing behind a low stone wall, which served as the boundary. Mike could tell that she was excited, and fully expected to hear some monotone cheering in the near future.

"Since this is a spar, should we set some limitations? Perhaps until the first blood?" Mike suggested.

"It won't be my victory unless you admit that I am stronger than you!" Brenden said drawing his greatsword. "Now get ready to face the full power of my new class!"

Mike sighed and drew his own sword. "So should I just keep fighting until you give up, or..." He trailed off as he saw the changes that Brenden was undergoing.

The beastman was emitting a terrifying amount of bloodthirst, triggering Mike's Detect Hostile Intent to an extreme level. As he watched, Brenden's eyes turned red and his face twisted into an insane rictus of fury.

He heard a quiet comment from Tal. "Berserker. Careful."

Brenden blurred forward and swept his sword at Mike with a ferocious howl. Mike narrowly side stepped the blow, but judging from the crater it made in the ground, the beastman's strength had increased dramatically.

[Looks a bit like some form of temporary enhancement skill. A little a like Limit Break, but it seems to cost you your rationality.]

Mike tried to use Inspect, just on the off chance that he could glean some information about Brenden's condition. Surprisingly, he felt the familiar sensation of a skill increasing in Tier as a block of information appeared in his vision.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Brenden

Race: Dog Beastman/Unknown

Age: 17

Class: Raging Warrior

Title: Destined Rival

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mike felt like dancing in joy. Finally he could at least see some useful information when he inspected people. His celebration was interrupted by another attack from Brenden. This time it was swiftly followed by a flurry of other attacks Mike was forced to dodge and parry.

Judging from the way Brenden's sword cut the air, Mike really didn't want to get caught by one of the blows. He fell into the Flowing River stance and immediately redirected a massive overhead chop in the ground.

So great was the force of the blow, that Brenden's sword was stuck there, buried deep in the rocky floor. He strained to remove it, leaving himself open to Mike's counterattack.

A powerful kick to the solar plexus sent Brenden flying across the training field. He landed hard, but was up on his feet again shortly.

"You've been disarmed. Do you want to call it, now?" Mike asked, carefully eye his opponent's body posture.

Brenden's only response was a growl as he threw himself forward recklessly. If anything, he seemed to be moving faster now that he was unarmed.

Sighing, Mike sheathed his sword, grabbed one of Brenden's outstretched arms and executed a textbook shoulder throw. Once again, Brenden landed hard on the ground.

This process continued several times, and Mike was starting to get fed up, when something changed.

Brenden was back on his feet from another throw, but rather than charging he was gritting his teeth, literally shaking with rage. Mike thought he saw a hint of tears in his eyes.

"Hey, man…..let's call this a draw. We can quit at any time."

Brenden's only answer was a scream of inarticulate fury, loud and piercing. As he screamed, his body changed. His face elongated, taking on a lupine appearance. His armor practically exploded off of him, as his form rapidly expanded, coarse black hair now covering a set of rippling muscles. Arms ending in razor sharp claws were held at the ready. Eyes still gripped in with berserk fury stared at Mike, as the beastman tensed his legs, ready to pounce.

[Holy shit! Did he just turn into a werewolf?! That's awesome!]

Brenden now stood close to 2m in height, and bristled with a sort of feral strength and vitality that seemed to shock the onlookers.

[Wait…]

Mike glanced around, and noticed there was now a large crowd watching his fight. Several of them seemed to be taking bets.

[Don't just watch! Clearly this isn't a normal spar anymore!] Mike mentally cursed the onlookers.

Brenden unleashed another howl, before leaping at him, claws outstretched.