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Message: <blockquote data-quote="maxfieldjadenfox" data-source="post: 3048878" data-attributes="member: 18003">Maxfield Jaden Fox, still stinging a bit from his defeat at the hands of Rodrigo Istalindir last year, looks up at the balcony. Rodrigo leans forward, and Max feels the judge's steely glance rest on him for a moment, sending a chill down his spine. Rodrigo turns and whispers something to Herreman, who sits silently, Lady Death resting nearby. Herreman looks toward the competitors in the arena and makes a dismissive gesture with his meaty hand. Rodrigo, somewhat agitated, points at Max. A short, but intense argument ensues. After long minutes, Rodrigo stands and walks to the edge of the balcony. He locks eyes with Max, and motions for him to come forward. Max takes a few halting steps and bows. What could the judges possibly want with him?"You have been chosen. It is our hope that you are up to the task."The steps to the balcony, cold grey stone, are steep and winding, worn by the tread of many feet. Max reaches the top, just a bit out of breath. Chosen for what? He bows again, first to Rodrigo and then to Herreman the Wise, who stands now with Lady Death thrumming insistently in his hand. For a moment, Max remembers the last time he met Lady Death. The swift stroke to his throat, the merciful blackness that followed, erasing the pain of his defeat. Were it not for the return of resurrection magick, and the good will of a cleric, he wouldn't be here now. But here he is. Herreman slaps him hard on the shoulder, and Max tries to remain standing. "Welcome, boy. Try to keep up." Rodrigo rises. Graceful, catlike, he comes toward Max, holding robes that are perhaps a touch too large. "Well, put them on. The contest is about to begin."</blockquote>

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