By: dpomerico

dpomerico — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 14:44:40 +0000

And thus ends the 2010 Cage Match, with Kvothe coming in an impressive 3rd Place.
Thanks to everyone for playing along (especially Patrick Rothfuss, for contributing so much to the Kvothe matches), and I hope you all had fun.
Also, again, congrats to Nathaniel on his great story.
Look for the video recap of the Final matches on Tuesday.
All the best,
Suvudu

By: Erebus

Erebus — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 01:45:04 +0000

So. Looks like Kvothe won. .>…….w00t!! 3rd place and all that. Ah, who’m I kidding. Still, beating Drizzt and all. Kind of impressive……. Yeah. I’ll be quiet now.

By: AHEM

AHEM — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 23:17:06 +0000

Well, I’m not much for using Google documents, but I suppose I’ll post what I submitted here in the comments.
Drizzt pushed open the doors of the bar, the warmth of the fire inside seeping into him. His hood was pulled up, hiding his drow ancestry from those who saw him.
The only person in the room was a seemingly ordinary human with red hair standing behind the bar, seeming relaxed and unimpressed. Under more normal circumstances, Drizzt would have dismissed the man as no threat, but years as a warrior and cautious vigilance kept his nerves wound tight and ready. He had come prepared for battle tonight.
“Greetings,” he said to the man. “I am looking for a man called the Kingkiller. May you be him, or at least be able to direct me to him?”
The man sighed. “Oh. Another one.” He set the mug he was polishing down. “I don’t know why you people insist on disturbing me, but know this, stranger. I am growing tired of cloaked men with swords who fancy themselves dark and mysterious and tragic coming in here and bothering me. Why, just the other day this fellow carrying an armory came here asking the very questions you are now.” He sighed. “Poor man.”
Drizzt recognized it as a threat, a boast. He was used to them in his long life. This man had faced some sort of assassin or assailant before in these very circumstances and bested him.
Still, Drizzt would bet that this Kingkiller had never met a foe quite like Drizzt before.
“Do not bandy words with me,” Drizzt said. “Are you he, the Kingkiller? What is your name?”
The man sighed again. “Very well, if you insist on this, then I might as well not waste my time with you. I will tell you my name in return for yours. I am called Kvothe.”
“And I am Drizzt Do’Urden.”
Kvothe smiled faintly, a sly smile. “Very well, then, Drizzt Do’Urden. Now, I believe I know why you are here. However, before you dispatch me, there is something I would like you to see. I was expecting company, so I made a little gift for you.” From beneath the bar he drew a small doll, made in the likeness of a cloaked man wearing two swords at his sides.
“Sympathy,” Kvothe said. “The common people distrust it, but it has its uses. This doll has a sympathetic link to you. When something is done to the doll, energy is transferred to your body.”
Drizzt didn’t like the sound of that. This sympathy sounded like some witchery of Lolth. What dark powers did this Kvothe possess to use such magic?
Kvothe smiled, a casual, pleasant smile, and then tossed the doll into the fire.
Drizzt braced himself for some terrible attack, but nothing happened. No heat assaulted him, no burns appeared on his body. What was the man playing at? That was when he felt the response from Icingdeath.
“Trying to burn me will do no good,” Drizzt said. “My sword eats fire. So long as I carry it, no flames or great heat can touch me.”
Kvothe seemed shocked. He glanced harder at Drizzt, and caught a glimpse of the dark skin and purple eyes underneath the cloak.
“You . . . you aren’t human!” he exclaimed. “What are you?” Never, even at the University, had he heard of such a creature. He should have researched and taken this into account earlier, to create a stronger sympathetic link.
“Well . . . no matter,” Kvothe said. “Drizzt Do’Urden, by the power of your name, I bind you. By the name of the wind . . .”
Drizzt realized what he was doing almost immediately. He was trying to use Drizzt’s name against him! Just as the Archmage Ged had tried to do. Though he didn’t believe the strange rumors that this man could unmake him with a word, he couldn’t risk it; he attacked, shattering Kvothe’s concentration.
Kvothe recognized the danger and had his sword out, but Drizzt, his movements driven on by the Bracers of the Blinding Strike strapped to his legs, moved twice as fast as any human. He leaped up onto the bar and ran sideways, knocking a dozen mugs and bottles aside like the sweep of a giant hand, throwing a globe of darkness at Kvothe at the same time, plunging the area into darkness. Kvothe ducked at the last moment and rolled out of the impenetrable shadow, barely avoiding the sweep of two scimitars that cut through the space where his neck had just occupied.
Kvothe came up, and the two engaged, one sword against two. They ducked and parried, danced and struck, swung and stabbed, Kvothe needing every ounce of his skill to hold off the lethal magic blades driven by two centuries of combat experience. Chairs and tables were knocked aside as the duel went back and forth.
Drizzt jumped up onto a table, than onto the bar, pulling his hood down to completely cover his face as he did. Dropping one scimitar, he tossed a small pebble onto the floor between them.
What the . . .? Kvothe thought, pulling away in case the pebble happened to explode or contain a magical trap. But he wasn’t prepared; the pebble burst open, filling the room with a dazzling blast of concentrated light, turning the whole world into a solid glow.
“Ah!” Kvothe fell backwards, closing his eyes, red and orange lights pulsing in his vision. Drizzt, his face hooded by the cowl, accustomed to fighting without his sight, jumped down with acrobatic grace and ran towards Kvothe, easily sweeping aside his defense and lunging forward with his remaining scimitar. Icingdeath plunged into Kvothe’s heart, sending a chilling shock of icy pain that sapped the strength from his muscles.
“You . . .” Kvothe grunted as he sank back against the wall, bleeding. “You dirty fighting . . .”
“Dirty fighting?” Drizzt asked, bemused. “What in all the gods’ names gave you the idea that I would fight fair?”
Predicted Winner: Drizzt Do’Urden.

By: CezeN

CezeN — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 20:14:14 +0000

CJ, that was really good as well.
Same with yours Ark.
Thanks for posting. =D

By: CJ

CJ — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 19:33:55 +0000

Well done, Natty! That write-up is certainly deserving of praise! Be sure to let us all know if you finally make it in the writing biz. I’d definitely want to read more!
I also want to read what everyone else wrote for this. Here is mine:
https://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AfvI7FqC9oPsZDhwaHZ0OF8waHNwZGRzZ3o&hl=en

By: Erutan

Erutan — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 03:38:31 +0000

The way I see it…anyone who can beat Aslan can beat an elf. Go Kvothe!

By: Natty

Natty — Sat, 10 Apr 2010 04:52:39 +0000

Thanks so much to Ark, Camilla, and CezeN for the incredibly kind comments! As a (struggling) aspiring writer, it’s really gratifying to get any positive feedback at all. As for quitting my day job, I’m definitely working on it…
Ark, thanks for posting your piece as well! Totally awesome; it had a very Aliens 3 vibe to it.

By: Ark

Ark — Sat, 10 Apr 2010 02:34:07 +0000

First off, huge congrats to Natty for that piece. It exuded brilliance, loads of it. Quit your day job and become a writer yo .
For all those wondering about the other pieces entered, here is mine. Please post up yours as well, I’d love to read them.
https://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AW8o37B5_Ln0ZGhqa3c4ZnBfODhyNmtzMmZr&hl=en

By: Camilla

Camilla — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 22:19:16 +0000

That new writeup is epic and awesome and amazing! I completely love it, especially the last paragraph. Props to the talented Nathaniel Bokenkamp. Everything about it was very well done.

By: frantiforce

frantiforce — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 21:02:36 +0000

“for-srs writer” meaning, of course, I’m totally and completely amateur, and don’t tend toward fanfic. Mostly.

Comments on: Cage Match 2010, Consolation Match: 14) Kvothe versus 17) Drizzt Do’Urden