Well, this is the first battle I've done...and also the first poll, so I hope I did everything right.
Anyway, vote fairly and may the best gladiator win!

an, it was special. Abra spun with his cards and his clowns danced around him. His white suit glittered in the sunlight and mesmerized his audience. Suddenly the clowns burst into doves and the cards into roses, Abra stood confused then a man walked up on stage. He took a bow and signaled for Abra to do the same and they bowed together to the claps of the audience. Abra reached his hand out, “Nice to meet you, who are you again?”

“Name’s William Thatch, I’m a magician, just like you. But obviously a lot better.” He smiled ruefully.

Abra returned the smile, “Oh really? Then shall we give our guests a show they’ll never forget.” Abra stomped on the ground and the rose petals flew up into sparkles, William countered by blowing on them and they turned into small golden butterflies. Abra swished his hands and they turned into a tornado that flew into the air, William snapped his fingers and the cyclone exploded into a rainbow. Abra clapped his hands, “You’re like the younger brother I never wanted.”

“And you’re like a master I bypassed years ago.” Abra sent his hat out to collect money, and William turned it into a pelican who flew back and dumped the money from its beak.

Abra cracked his neck, “You wanna mess punk? I will kill you, and as gruesomely as possible. I mean there’s one thing interfering with my show, but there’s another when you keep doing it after the show.”

William shrugged, “I’m just proving a point.”

“That you really want to die? Just shut up and follow me. I don’t want your disgusting blood anywhere near my audience.” Abra made his way through to a secluded part of the forest, trees were burnt and charred, a reminder of his battle against Vamprina. William took off the heavy jacket he was wearing, exposing his armor underneath, the light splint mail covered most of his body, it was leather and steel mail, and shined in the sun. Abra manifested a blade and charged, William drew his rapier that was slung along his hip and clashed. Suddenly the blade’s inscriptions glowed and the blade exploded, sending Abra flying through the air, his blade destroyed.

William rushed forward and fired magic bolts, but Abra’s cards flew up to defend him. Abra manifested two blades and charged at him again, he held back the rapier with his left sword and prepared a stab with his other blade. But before he stabbed down, half of the blade melted away and some liquid got onto Abra’s tie, melting it too. Abra teleported away and looked at William who was holding a small water gun in his left arm. Abra shook his head, “All these little tricks though…” He cleaned up his tie with a wave of his hand and then shot his cards at William. William’s blade glowed and he drew a blue line between him and the cards, and when they touched, the line detonated and took the cards with it.

Abra took the opportunity to teleport behind him and he landed a solid kick to William’s back. William tumbled forward, but Abra teleported in front of him and kicked him again. Abra poofed and William got ready for the kick, he quickly grabbed one of his flash marbles, and as soon as he felt the foot contact, he threw the marble down. The explosion stunned Abra and William tumbled away, then he turned around and tackled into Abra. He stabbed down with his blade and got Abra in the gut. Abra kicked him off with a roar and stood up. “2 minutes kid.” Abra ripped his mask off, “Say your prayers.”

Abra took out his syringe and injected the morphine into his blood system. Once the morphine took hold, he waved his hand over his suit, and the suit became a harsh blood red. He reached into his portal and pulled out Estaban’s knuckles and rushed William. William shot his hydrochloric acid at Abra, who simply raised his right hand to block it. His flesh bubbled and sizzled as the acid consumed and burnt it, but he rushed forward, clenching the injured fist and nailing William with a punch to the face. William lashed out with his rapier and charged it with mana. Abra grabbed it with his other hand and tightened his grip, crushing it before it detonated. All that remained of his left hand was his skeletal middle finger, a slightly fleshy index finger and thumb, the rest of his hand was gone. Mangled, Abra hit William with his nearly fleshless hand, unable to punch him smacked him, and the blood splattered into William’s eyes. He wasn’t used to such aggression, he didn’t have time to do anything.

“Devokh, do something!” He gasped, and his specter demon came out. The six-eyed spirit manifested as a serpent and wrapped itself around Abra, sinking its teeth in his neck, and frost crystals could be seen forming on Abra. Abra struggled against the binds then belched flames. William backed away quickly and watched in horror as Devokh fought against the monster. Abra grabbed the serpent with his right hand and pulled him off, his hand began turning blue then black, the frost bite completing in seconds, and he smashed the head against the ground, his hand shattering along with it. He stamped his foot down, Devokh sank deeper, and Abra finished him off with a jet of flames. Abra looked up and coughed, the gut wound was bleeding profusely, but the adrenaline and morphine kept him moving. He only had a mangled hand to fight with so instead he summoned one of his newest troupe members, Franco.

The 360 kg bear snuffled the air, his big black moist nose taking in the scent of blood, ashes, and fear. His head swished from Abra to William, who sat on the ground petrified. The bear snarled, the smell of fear was heavy on this one, and Franco was hungry. The bear leapt forward, and charged at William, Franco’s midnight black armor glinted in the sunlight. William quickly unzipped his parcel on his back, pulling out a fireball spell he shot it off. Franco batted it away and rushed on. William pulled out a shield scroll and erected the dome over him. His eyes darted fearfully from Franco to Abra who he watched slowly weaken and collapse onto his knees. He just needed to hold out until Abra died. Franco beat against the light blue shield, his armored paws clashing off. He rammed into it with his head but the dome held strong. William smiled then began laughing, he can make it!

Suddenly a crack appeared, where did that come from? A card floated down from the crack and onto the ground, the face was Joker. He looked back at Abra who smiled at him, he waved with his mangled hand, he wasn’t going to let him win. Franco noticed the crack and pressured it, placing both of his paws on it and pushing down with all his weight. The crack widened, and spread across the dome. Franco stood on his hind legs and roared. He dropped on the shield again and the rivets increased. William’s lips trembled, he was scared, he was going to die. Franco reared up again and dropped, smashing through the shield. His paws landed on William’s leg, the 360 kg easily snapped the leg, and it bent up in a funny direction. William screamed, Franco roared back, and clamped down on William’s neck. William’s scream quieted to a gurgle, then with a quick crunch, William’s head rolled off the body. Franco roared in victory and gorged itself on William’s body.

Abra laughed quietly, but he knew he didn’t have long. He laid down on the ground, his limbs stretched out wide, it looked like he was going to make snow angels. He knew his stomach acid was digesting his innards and destroying him. He was going to die, at least he killed that bastard magician first. “Abra, kadabra, alakazam,” he sighed, his vision blackened. [/spoiler]


re. Can we just give it a rest for now, ‘Vok?”



“Agreed.”

I glanced around at the crowd in town, getting a few strange looks as I tried to find a place to sit down and get a bite to eat. I hadn’t eaten since the day before, and I was starting to feel a little woozy. That fact, combined with the lingering tenderness in my ribs was starting to get on my nerves and I wasn’t too fond of large crowds to begin with.

Looking around the plaza I had found myself in, I noticed a couple of promising locations, but a small coffee shop sitting largely abandoned in light of a street performer caught my eye. Shrugging, I figured that a decent cup of coffee and something quick to eat might get me through the morning. Shoving the flyer that I’d grabbed as we’d entered town into a pocket of my jacket, I darted somewhat clumsily over to the coffee shop and held onto the door handle for a bit of support as a wave of fatigue washed over me.



“Noted,” I muttered before taking a deep breath and opened the door, a small bell alerting the barista at the counter. I stifled a laugh at how quaint that was before walking up to the counter.
The barista glanced at the door, quickly saving the page in her book before sliding in under the counter and donning a smile. A bit of worry flashed across her eyes before quickly vanishing, likely because of how unkempt I looked walking into a deserted shop. I was suddenly very thankful that I’d thought to attempt shaving and washing out my hair in a stream before coming into town.

Despite the worried glance, she started warming up the brewer before turning back to me to ask what I might want.

“Welcome to Coffee Shack! What can I get started for you today?” She seemed to have a slight accent, indicating that English wasn’t her first language, but it was hardly noticeable unless you were looking for it, or had travelled often. I gave her a slight smile, trying to put her at ease and quickly moved my pack and bow over by the door when I realized that they might be intimidating. Awkwardly smiling once more, I tried to shrug it off and give her my order.

“Thanks, and I’ll just have a straight coffee. Black and medium please, and if I could have one of those bagels as well?”

“Sure thing!” She typed in the information, and a few seconds later she turned away from the computer to start brewing.

“Alright, that comes out to be three dollars, seventy-nine cents,” she pointed to the card reader, and I reluctantly pulled out my card after seeing that I didn’t have enough cash.

“I don’t suppose that you offer cash back here?” I nodded as she shook her head and quickly typed in my code and gave her my name before sidling over to the door and sitting at one of the tables there. Using a card was a risky move: I had plenty of cash left in the account, but there was no guarantee that it wasn’t being watched by the Council, and if they were…things could get complicated, and after the events of last year I probably wasn’t in good standing. I rand my fingers through my hair before crossing my fingers and setting them under my chin, staring at the table in thought.

It could be possible that they weren’t actively watching me: it had been almost a year since they’d last seen any sign of me, and the council members had more to deal with than a renegade journeyman such as myself. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before letting it out after a few moments, deciding that I would just be a bit more careful about covering my tracks in the future. If they did end up coming after me, then I would just have to deal with it then.

I was shocked out of my reverie by a hand on my back, and I almost jumped out of my chair before I realized that it was just the barista. I quickly apologized for startling her and thanked her for bringing over the coffee and roll, after which she walked back behind the counter and resumed reading.

I took a deep gulp of the coffee, grimacing slightly at the heat and bitterness, but managed to choke it down before tearing into the bagel, glancing out the window at the performance between bites after noticing Devokh doing the same. Within a couple minutes, I sat back into the chair feeling much more myself as I slowly sipped at the remainder of the coffee while I stared at the masked performer outside.



I snorted, taking a light sip of the coffee before setting down the half-full cup. The performer was a magician, and a decent one at that: he managed to pull off some interesting tricks out of his hat, and even hypnotized a couple audience members…but he was still just a stage magician.

Devokh shot a glance back my way before a screeching laugh echoed in my mind, making me visibly wince. The creature moved in a circle around me before settling it’s head on my right shoulder, snaking a few tendrils of magic across my brow before sinking them into the tattoos around my eye and forcing me to look.

I let out a shuddering gasp as the magic sunk into my flesh, my vision shifting uncomfortably into the spectrums of magic. I blinked my eyes, trying to adjust my focus after so long without the sight…and then I saw it.
I felt my face flush as I sucked in a breath in surprise.

The performer was a mage.

Lines of magic swirled around his form, and flowed over the courtyard as well as afterimages of what he was doing. Moreover, there was a shadowy figure floating about among the spectators, glowing points on the people that had been hypnotized indicating that something very strange had happened. I shook my head as Devokh removed its influence from the Tattoos, a muted gasp from behind indicating that the barista has seen the subtle glow begin to fade.
I ignored her, instead focusing on the implications of what I had just seen. We were deep in council territory now, where we could be easily found, and where rogue mages and wizards would be hunted down like wolves…lycanthropes too. This made my particular situation especially difficult, but necessary since I came here seeking out aid from the dragon Halifax, who I knew was somewhere in this region.

This mage however, he had no business here: no true mage had any business with the council, not for the better part of fifteen generations, after the last crusade resulted in one of their kind devastating an entire realm. Which begged the question: why was he here?



Now there was a thought, one that raised my eyebrows as I watched the crowd begin to clear: had this mage had been hired by the council? I rolled the thought over as I gulped down more of the strong coffee, before discarding it. The council would never work with a mage, let alone one that had also formed a pact, which meant that this one was an outlaw and could very well be dangerous.

Which still left other possibilities open I realized, slowly standing as I finished the coffee and walked over towards my pack. Grabbing it, I quickly walked up to the counter and gave the attendant, Kayla as I looked at her name tag, the last of my cash as a tip, and walked out the door as I tossed my coffee cup in the waste bin. I merged with the slowly dispersing crowd, slowly working my way towards the front while I contemplated what could be going on.

He could just be passing through, and given the circumstances it was the most likely of possibilities. It was also the most troublesome, since that could lead the council directly to this town if he was careless. I shook my head: he already was careless. All it would take is for the wrong person to see him and trace their way back down his path.

The least likely option would be that he was there seeking me out, but I would need to confront him either way. Groaning as I neared the front, I loosened my hilt and bag of flash-marbles in preparation for whatever may come. He quickly noticed me, though given that I was the only one in the crowd with a bow and cutlass, I wasn’t exactly the most inconspicuous.

“Ah, yet another of my adoring fans! Though, a strange one to be sure. Come to make a donation to the grand maestro Abra, the greatest magician ever known?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, which caused Abra to

Great battle and I agree, let the best gladiator win.

Magician versus magician. I like it. :D

SmellsLikeGreek, our battle was magician versus magician too you fool XD

The obvious choice for me here is to pick Nevron’s story as the best one. He clearly has a better grasp of how to describe events and how clearly they flow.


CnC stuff (There are people who are better at this than me, but I hadn't CnC'd in a while, so I thought I should give it a shot again. Also, I’m sorry if I start sounding like I’m being too nitpicky):

Just so we get this out of this out of the way, Nevron wins hands down no competition. The overall plot and writing ability from him far exceeds asmodeus.

Asmodeus:

You make the same mistake as every beginner writer on SP.

To boil it down, your plot was basically "Abra got insulted by another magician and the sensible course of action was to gut him." No twists. Just that.

This is also coupled with your writing being almost a carbon copy of a pokemon battle; the description and sentence phrasing is equally simple and without variation.

Abra uses x

William uses Y

It was super effective!!!

The result was a story that lacked everything that a story should have. Look at Miracle's battle and you will understand why. There is no feeling, no emotion. Nothing to grip the reader and hold their attention. It was like trying to go through a pointless marathon. Long, gruelling, and absolutely rewardless. Add a twist. Explore emotions. Add strategy. Even a pokemon battle is more breath taking because of how each player predicts the other's moves.

Read stories by other writers, not necessarily from SP. Pick up a book, high fantasy genre or whatever you'd like. Find out how writers craft their story and make their writing interesting. A wrhg battle is no excuse to leave out plot and emotion.

Nevron:

Already into the beginning and I can see problems in your writing.

One thing I must emphasise is that in first person writing, YOU are the protagonist. Whatever you describe, is what you notice. Initially your character examines the barista in no small amount of detail. The expression of worry that flashed for just a moment, her accent, how unnoticeable it was. This, including the actions he took to put her at ease already tells me that he is concerned as to what people think/has a keen eye/courteous and so on.

But after that, his attention to detail was no longer there. When he startled her, he merely apologized and thanked her, not even bothering to note her expression and/or if she thought him weird. Nothing, save for that fact that she'd returned to read.

The moral of the story is to keep consistent and stay consistent, because even the detail matters. Your character's motivations, personality must all be well known to you before you pen down everything. Writing is not accountancy, but you must at the same time think about what you are writing before you pen it down.

The next thing is emotion. If you stick to one point of view, then you must show that character's emotions to the fullest. He was magically bound by Abra, so what? Was he frustrated? Surprised at the sudden aggression? Abra's arrogance probably wasn't something he could ignore. What was his reaction? Don't forget to mention pain as well. Gladiators are not marionettes that bleed.

And finally, refrain from dragging on the battle unless it is one of attrition. Trading blows for three continuous minutes? At least one or the other would have began to fall flat from exhaustion, not to mention the large time window for a mistake to happen and be taken advantaged of. You cannot simply wave part of the battle off as "they fought for a bit", either. Not one mention of fatigue or pain was seen until the very end.

Perhaps I harp too much on realism, but is it not interesting to watch someone having to deal with the troubles of flesh than to simply fight to the death?

The rest, Seb has mentioned. I merely wished to consolidate the more notable problems that arose throughout both stories.

Wow...lots of feedback, and pretty good advice for progressing. I did notice a lot of this on later reading after I had already posted, and I will definitely watch the consistency of my writing in the future since that is always something that can make or break a storyline. Details are probably the largest part of that for me, and it seems that I need to find a balance that will function a little more smoothly in the future...moreover I think I need to figure out what works as far as how many details are too much, since I've been a little afraid to do too much, especially with battles.

Anyway, you both make some great points here, and I'll probably be wanting to have you read over stuff in the future, if you wouldn't mind. Criticism does amazing things for character growth and plot-holes, after all. Thanks for the feedback!