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Description
Snickers and laughter were heard as the two challengers took the field. With the excitement sky high as the battle approached it's beginning, no one had noticed the two small characters in the crowd, and if they were noticed they were promptly dismissed as two young servants, bringing water, adjusting armor, sharpening weapons for the REAL fighters. Now however, they were on the actual field of combat, and the only folks allowed there were participants.

Even though this was a 'bloodless' tourney (they almost never ended up being that, but...the goal was to ATTEMPT it) children had no place here. There was real money on the line, and people fought hard for those lovely coins. The two children, one a dour looking boy with a short spear that wouldn't make the breastplate on half of the fighters, and the other a cheerful hedgehog girl with a wide grin, shuffled towards the back of the crowd. The boy was clearly put off by the attention, but his companion just rubbed her gloved hands in preparation for the carnage.

A few questioning looks were given to the Marshall, who merely shrugged back. This gave some small advance warning to the smarter on the field, as combat magicians were allowed to fight in the ring, and perhaps that's what they should prepare for. However, not everyone got the hint, and as the bell tolled, signifying lay on, one of the heavily armored meatheads strode right for the pair, where the boy was busy making a circle around them in the arena's dirt.

"No offense, kittens, but this is no place for you, and the fact that they let you on this field is an insult to all of us here. Why don't we show them why BABIES are not allowed on this, a field of MEN." The man drew a wicked looking sword from his back and began to advance.

The boy spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard even as the other dozen or so fighters began to clash amongst themselves. "Why don't you say that to my face, ugly?"

"Oh, I'm about to, and then i'll carve that face off and add it to my collection!"

"Ewwww! How 'bout you stay over there, stinky, whew! You ever wash that armor, or is that the other faces I'm smelling?" The hedgehog called out helpfully.

With a vicious grow, the man leapt forward, his long arms giving him plenty of range with his bastard sword. So intent was he on cleaving one or both in half at the same time, he failed to notice that he had stepped over the line the boy had drawn.

Almost immediately, the man began shrinking, his armor warping and twisting. His sword changed as well, shifting from a long sword into a little dagger. By the time he was in range, he had become a child shorter then the two before him. In shock, his charge slowed, as he looked down at his new form, his former gear shifting to match a boy of about 6 years of age.

"Whu...what did you do?" he stammered out, all fight completely drained out of him.

The boy with the spear stepped forward, still speaking low. "It's her power. Step into the field, meet us at our level. Welcome to our level." And saying that, the boy twisted quickly, swinging the hooked end of his polearm around and striking the former man between the eyes with the butt of his spear. The aggressor dropped like a sack of potatoes.

This quickly got the attention of the crowd watching and most of the combatants on the field, who spread out and gave the two a wide berth. However, two fighters, locked into their own melee, failed to notice the pair quietly walking up behind them. As a female fighter who'd been pressing the attack with a shield and trident stepped into the field, she began to shrink. Her opponent, sensing an opening, dove forward with his axe, attempting to close the distance...and also found himself in the magical regression field. Sweeping his weapon, the boy made quick work of the disoriented pair. 3 down, 14 to go.

A padded arrow went whizzing by, just missing the boy, who noted that if that had hit him, he probably would be seeing the same stars he'd just inflicted on the others. A ranged fighter leered at them from beyond the field. "I've seen your trick, and it won't work! All I have to do is knock you out from here, and good luck dodging on those little legs of yours!"

The boy exchanged a glance with his partner , who grinned and shrugged, waving him off. Another arrow came flying their way, but the girl began skipping, her movements erratic, and hard to hit. The boy strafed off to the side, running low, trying to hide in the dust that had been kicked up. The archer sent several more missiles at the girl, and growled in frustration as her cheerful, careless looking step carried her out of harms way each time.

The archer felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to polearm as the boy, now a lightly armored adult stood taller then he. Drawing back, the man made short work of the archer, even as he threw up his bow in an attempt to defend himself.

Making his way back to his partner, Reva grimaced as her field affected him, reshaping him into the young boy that had so aroused the mirth of the other fighters. They could only use this trick a few times in a given town, as people tended to get VERY miffed by the way they won their fights, but the coin offered by this grand melee was too much to pass up.

Another fighter, a lithe looking man with two bladed tonfa, confidently strode into the magical field. "I've been fighting since I was born," he said, even as the magic transformed him. "Your little trick is a just a fun stride down memory lane."

The boy with the spear took a wide stance in front his partner, who giggled and waved from behind her protector. The spell didn't disarm the opponent entirely, and the enemy looked comfortable with the twin sticks he had been left with.

They didn't help as the boy with the spear dropped to his knees, allowing his shorter companion a clear shot with the cross bow she had drawn. Loaded with one of her many spiky quills, the dart hit the other fighter square in their shoulder, the pain causing him to drop his weapons and open himself to yet another spear-bashing. This was going well.

Suddenly, a sharp yelp from behind him turned Reva's attention to Zel, and horrified, he saw a bright line of blood spray out from a cut above her forehead, a thrown rock the culprit of the injury. Sucking in his breath, he started to rush to her side, but he was too late. Bright eyes shining even brighter as tears filled them, a wail went out from his companion as she began to bawl in ernest. Reva knew what was coming, and even though he was familiar with the sensation, he hated it all the same.

The sounds of her crying elicited even more laughter from some less then cordial fighters, but their laughter choked off as even the ones furthest from the pair began feeling a sinking dread in their stomachs, then simply sinking. Everyone on the field began regressing, shrinking out of their clothes, which were not as helpfully bound to them as they had previously been.

A chorus of wails went up as the entire field was now occupied by a collection of toddlers, swimming in their former armor, or buried under the shields they had wielded. Unfortunately, Reva was not in a position to take advantage of this, as he too, fell under the effects of his partner's anguish. Sitting down heavily on his backside, the boy sighed, waiting for the Marshall to call an end to the fight.

It had started so promisingly too...

Dang it.

Description
Snickers and laughter were heard as the two challengers took the field. With the excitement sky high as the battle approached it's beginning, no one had noticed the two small characters in the crowd, and if they were noticed they were promptly dismissed as two young servants, bringing water, adjusting armor, sharpening weapons for the REAL fighters. Now however, they were on the actual field of combat, and the only folks allowed there were participants.

Even though this was a 'bloodless' tourney (they almost never ended up being that, but...the goal was to ATTEMPT it) children had no place here. There was real money on the line, and people fought hard for those lovely coins. The two children, one a dour looking boy with a short spear that wouldn't make the breastplate on half of the fighters, and the other a cheerful hedgehog girl with a wide grin, shuffled towards the back of the crowd. The boy was clearly put off by the attention, but his companion just rubbed her gloved hands in preparation for the carnage.

A few questioning looks were given to the Marshall, who merely shrugged back. This gave some small advance warning to the smarter on the field, as combat magicians were allowed to fight in the ring, and perhaps that's what they should prepare for. However, not everyone got the hint, and as the bell tolled, signifying lay on, one of the heavily armored meatheads strode right for the pair, where the boy was busy making a circle around them in the arena's dirt.

"No offense, kittens, but this is no place for you, and the fact that they let you on this field is an insult to all of us here. Why don't we show them why BABIES are not allowed on this, a field of MEN." The man drew a wicked looking sword from his back and began to advance.

The boy spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard even as the other dozen or so fighters began to clash amongst themselves. "Why don't you say that to my face, ugly?"

"Oh, I'm about to, and then i'll carve that face off and add it to my collection!"

"Ewwww! How 'bout you stay over there, stinky, whew! You ever wash that armor, or is that the other faces I'm smelling?" The hedgehog called out helpfully.

With a vicious grow, the man leapt forward, his long arms giving him plenty of range with his bastard sword. So intent was he on cleaving one or both in half at the same time, he failed to notice that he had stepped over the line the boy had drawn.

Almost immediately, the man began shrinking, his armor warping and twisting. His sword changed as well, shifting from a long sword into a little dagger. By the time he was in range, he had become a child shorter then the two before him. In shock, his charge slowed, as he looked down at his new form, his former gear shifting to match a boy of about 6 years of age.

"Whu...what did you do?" he stammered out, all fight completely drained out of him.

The boy with the spear stepped forward, still speaking low. "It's her power. Step into the field, meet us at our level. Welcome to our level." And saying that, the boy twisted quickly, swinging the hooked end of his polearm around and striking the former man between the eyes with the butt of his spear. The aggressor dropped like a sack of potatoes.

This quickly got the attention of the crowd watching and most of the combatants on the field, who spread out and gave the two a wide berth. However, two fighters, locked into their own melee, failed to notice the pair quietly walking up behind them. As a female fighter who'd been pressing the attack with a shield and trident stepped into the field, she began to shrink. Her opponent, sensing an opening, dove forward with his axe, attempting to close the distance...and also found himself in the magical regression field. Sweeping his weapon, the boy made quick work of the disoriented pair. 3 down, 14 to go.

A padded arrow went whizzing by, just missing the boy, who noted that if that had hit him, he probably would be seeing the same stars he'd just inflicted on the others. A ranged fighter leered at them from beyond the field. "I've seen your trick, and it won't work! All I have to do is knock you out from here, and good luck dodging on those little legs of yours!"

The boy exchanged a glance with his partner , who grinned and shrugged, waving him off. Another arrow came flying their way, but the girl began skipping, her movements erratic, and hard to hit. The boy strafed off to the side, running low, trying to hide in the dust that had been kicked up. The archer sent several more missiles at the girl, and growled in frustration as her cheerful, careless looking step carried her out of harms way each time.

The archer felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to polearm as the boy, now a lightly armored adult stood taller then he. Drawing back, the man made short work of the archer, even as he threw up his bow in an attempt to defend himself.

Making his way back to his partner, Reva grimaced as her field affected him, reshaping him into the young boy that had so aroused the mirth of the other fighters. They could only use this trick a few times in a given town, as people tended to get VERY miffed by the way they won their fights, but the coin offered by this grand melee was too much to pass up.

Another fighter, a lithe looking man with two bladed tonfa, confidently strode into the magical field. "I've been fighting since I was born," he said, even as the magic transformed him. "Your little trick is a just a fun stride down memory lane."

The boy with the spear took a wide stance in front his partner, who giggled and waved from behind her protector. The spell didn't disarm the opponent entirely, and the enemy looked comfortable with the twin sticks he had been left with.

They didn't help as the boy with the spear dropped to his knees, allowing his shorter companion a clear shot with the cross bow she had drawn. Loaded with one of her many spiky quills, the dart hit the other fighter square in their shoulder, the pain causing him to drop his weapons and open himself to yet another spear-bashing. This was going well.

Suddenly, a sharp yelp from behind him turned Reva's attention to Zel, and horrified, he saw a bright line of blood spray out from a cut above her forehead, a thrown rock the culprit of the injury. Sucking in his breath, he started to rush to her side, but he was too late. Bright eyes shining even brighter as tears filled them, a wail went out from his companion as she began to bawl in ernest. Reva knew what was coming, and even though he was familiar with the sensation, he hated it all the same.

The sounds of her crying elicited even more laughter from some less then cordial fighters, but their laughter choked off as even the ones furthest from the pair began feeling a sinking dread in their stomachs, then simply sinking. Everyone on the field began regressing, shrinking out of their clothes, which were not as helpfully bound to them as they had previously been.

A chorus of wails went up as the entire field was now occupied by a collection of toddlers, swimming in their former armor, or buried under the shields they had wielded. Unfortunately, Reva was not in a position to take advantage of this, as he too, fell under the effects of his partner's anguish. Sitting down heavily on his backside, the boy sighed, waiting for the Marshall to call an end to the fight.

It had started so promisingly too...

Dang it.