[center][h3]The Lady in White vs. Gaben's Chosen Round 1[/h3][/center]

Pithy blinked, fighting some dizziness as the surroundings suddenly stretched, the bizarre phenomenon momentarily tricking her mind into believing that she was falling at breakneck speeds. [i]There is something unnatural at work here,[/i] she thought, though she had seen nothing but a subtle glimmer in the air as she approached.
 
She shook the mental image away, refocusing on her target. A man stood with his back to her, a large shooter cradled in his arms. His attention seemed to be focused on the other end of the building, now far enough to make it difficult to discern with the naked eye.
 
Pithy brought up her left arm, pointing the six-shooter at the man’s back. She was not certain that this man was her foe, but he did not wear the trappings of the College, and she doubted that there was anyone else in miles. It was better to be safe than sorry.
 
Just then, a familiar voice rang out.
 
“There can only b—”
 
Pithy did not wait for Oren to finish. The rapport of her weapon echoed in the space, drowning out the announcer’s voice. Too late. Her enemy—for it could no longer be anyone else—had been alerted to the danger and had turned to the side.
 
Her projectile whizzed past, crashing and shattering one of the sculptures within. Pithy was already on the move, crossing the ten feet between them with a speed that sent her cowl flying back and revealed her face.
 
But the man’s shooter already bore down on her, the darkness within the large barrel staring out squarely between her eyes. She could not make it in time to stop him, and had too much forward momentum to change direction.
 
The smirk in the man’s lips told her he knew this.
 
So it was not strange when the smirk turned into a surprised gasp when the sheet of ice Pithy had launched forward in an arc with the first bullet suddenly crashed against the side of the weapon. The thunder that erupted from the long-shooter put to shame Pithy’s own weapon, but as before, the shot went wide, this time zooming past her. The sudden strike made the man lose grip on the weapon, and it skittered off on the gallery’s polished floors.
 
And then she was on him. Her rapier streaked forward, a silver line seeking the veins of her enemy’s throat. The man had been taken by surprise, had been disarmed, and in the end, instinctively thought to retreat backwards in a futile attempt to backpedal out of her weapon’s range. The duel would be decided in a single exchange.
 
Pithy’s eye widened when, instead of flesh, the point of her blade met a metallic surface. It skidded along a triangular shield as the man swept to the side, spinning out of the way of her lunge.
 
Her instincts screamed in warning, and she ducked her head, angling herself into a roll. She felt the tell-tale rush of wind that followed a long, sharp object and knew that she would have died had she decided to second-guess herself.
 
Drawing herself up on her feet, Pithy recalled the large sheet of ice towards herself as a barrier, but instead of the man pressing his advantage as she had expected, her enemy stood a few paces away, looking at her with a pleased smirk.
 
[i]He toys with me,[/i] Pithy understood with a flare of irritation.
 
“Heh, can’t believe I got so distracted by the bird I forgot to check the minimap,” the man chuckled, lazily twirling the orange blade that had appeared in his hand. He began to slowly pace sideways, eyes glimmering with supreme confidence, and Pithy mirrored his movements, not willing to expose her flanks. “Oooreeeen, old buddy, old pal, you keeping an eye out for me now?”
 
Pithy grunted, wincing slightly at the pain that suddenly pricked at her cheek. She brought her left hand to her face and rubbed it against the back of her glove. A reddish stain clung to the fabric as she withdrew it. That wound had not come from the sword.
 
[i]The long-shooter. I almost lost my head twice in a matter of seconds.[/i] The smug smile on the man’s face told her that he had guessed at her thoughts.
 
“Good thing you can’t scratch the paint on that. It’s a very rare skin.”
 
His posture was relaxed and open, almost insultingly defenseless. Pithy could close the distance between them and slash at his throat in a heartbeat, but refrained from making an approach. The lowered guard could well be meant to get a rise out of her. She had seen first-hand how fast this man could move and knew well that the time for an easy victory had passed.
 
“We’ll have words after this, Oren.”
 
“[i]We’ll have words after this, Oren.[/i] Ugh,” he mocked in a girlish voice. “You’re bumming me out, Elsa. Not to mention you’re getting ahead of yourself. That right there was your best shot at winning and you blew it. How about you just give up instead and save us both the trouble?”
 
She bristled at the stranger’s light words. [i]Give up? I might as well fall over my sword instead.[/i]
 
“I rather like my chances,” Pithy retorted dryly. “In fact, I should be the one offering you a chance to surrender.”
 
“Pfft. Cute.”
 
Pithy’s brow twitched, her pride burned by her opponent’s irreverent dismissal. [i]Has this one been taught nothing of respect?[/i] “You’d do well to take this seriously. You won’t find it as funny when I put a hole in your gut.”
 
The man scrunched his face. “Geez, pull the stick out of your ass, lady. I guessed at your powers when I saw you back at the College, but I didn’t think your ice queen color palette would fit your personality so well. Though it beats me why you’d make a floating surfboard out of ice.” He rolled his eyes. “Know what? Scratch surrendering. 1v1 me, bitch, I’ll wreck you.”
 
She let out a breath, discarding with it any retort she might have had. The circle they had been walking had steadily grown smaller during their exchange. Soon, one of them would be forced to make a move. With luck, the fool would shut his mouth when that happened.