Round Three: Protege vs. Kalim

[Crimson]

Either person can post first.

[Protégé]

It was one of those days where you began to doubt that winter was still around. The weather was midly warm, and the sun had melted all the snow. The ground around him was all dirt that had compacted into a giant piece instead of loose dirt due to melting snow turning the ground to mud and the sun drying the ground, with no grass or trees at the arena to stop him. To him, it seemed as if nature had decided that something big was coming, so it was going to make sure that what happened occurred on the skill of people against other people, instead of how they used their enviroment. Protégé liked that thought, for it meant that he had nothing to fear except his opponent.

He had learned that his opponent was a mage, so he was slightly apprehensive. A mage who had made it this far would be skilled, so Protégé had a feeling that there was a possiblitiy he would lose. Because he had felt this, he had made himself into the best look and appearance, along with his best armor. On his chest he wore a thick leather jerkin, dried and made into a tough defense. On his legs he had strong leather riding chpas on his legs, though he wore cloth pants underneath to prevent his skin from itching. His shield was freshly polished until it shined, and he had even run a sharping stone over the edges until it had turned into a rounded disk with a blade for an edge. The spearpoint had been sharped also, and the shaft was varnished and polished, until the toughend oak stave was incredibly smooth and resistant to water, and possibly even resistant to fire. Protégé hadn't tested this chance, for the staff had been made to be his pride and joy, so he didn't dare risk it. However, he knew that completely dry thick polished wood was difficult to burn, so he felt confident in it. The gloves on his hands were also of toughened leather, and this was the case with the coif he had decided to wear on his head to protect it and keep his hair out of his eyes. Looking at himself now, he felt as if he was stronger than a dragoon wearing unbelievably heavy metal armor. If I win this, I'm gonna look into chain mail. he told himself.

Walking out to the field, he adopted his usual beginning stance: spear between his legs with his right arm keeping it from being forced down, with the point at a 45 degree angle to the ground. His shield rested on top of it, pushing down on the spear a bit to ensure it couldn't be knocked up. Kneeling down on one knee in this position, he felt indestructable.

[Crimson]

Well, I didn't expect this in a semifinal fight.

After 3 days of the opponent not even showing up, I declare Protege the winner!