One fine evening after a busy day stealing from and killing the cowardly citizens of Vesper with my friend PimpSport, we decided to head to Minoc to sell our hard-earned wares. As the sun went down, and the smoke from the forges began to get thick we got separated. I decide to keep heading to Minoc. I practically stepped on a youthful (and apparently wealthy) mage, who seemed to have an ample supply of reagents, traveling with a Chaos Guard named Smithey, who was a GM warrior (probably a dimwitted hireling.)

"Por Ort Grav!" squeals the little piglet mage.
ZAP!

*chuckles*

"If you haven't already noticed, that was a rather large mistake friend" I whisper angrily, quickly followed by "Ort Sanct."

For a moment I actually thought about sparing the knave's life. . . . "Vas Flam."
(O.K. so I toyed with him a *little*)
"I shall teach thee manners that your mother must have forgotten" I yell as I nudge my horse to get a full running stab at him.

I hit him with my Halberd once knocking him backwards and then again in the back as he attempted to run away to finish him off.

I then decided that I would need those reagents he had on hand. Smithey, who stood idle whilst I killed his friend finally got a bit of courage and blindsided me with a good hit from his halberd (at least he is obedient) as I help myself to the mystic herbs. Startled, I use the moonlight to mask my presence.

That's when I began to feel a slight brush against my pack.

"He who is ignorant to put his hand in my pack, show yourself!", I whisper.

"Coby!!", whispers PimpSport.

"Bah! You bloody scoundrel" I whisper to him again without revealing my location, "Back off."

Pimpsport quickly ran and hid behind Smithey, I would suppose without being noticed, because Smithey didn't move. (Or maybe he's just that stupid)

With both of us hidden, myself in front of Smithey and PimpSport behind we craft a plan to vanquish the Young Mages powerful pet.

I began to provoke Smithey:

"Hail knave! My are these going to come in handy when I decide to rid the world of idiots like you!" I say as I reveal myself to him. (the poor guy was stumbling about in the darkness)

"Tell thine Mother that I wilst pay the two pence I owe her the next time I see her," I say surely trying not to laugh.

"But if you would like, we can fight fair and square - if only you would allow me to heal myself before we begin?"

"Aye!" was his only reply.

"In Vas Mani."

We circle each other for a few moments grading each others abilities and strengths.

"Wait one moment KNAVE!" I tell him. "You don't really expect me to allow you to break one of the most important rules in dueling do you?"

"Ehh?" he moans.

"That sword you have there is a Magic Viking sword of accuracy! That is just not allowable." As I walk away from him.

"You cannot simply come out to the wilderness and simply disregard Article IV, Section XXVI of the Treatise by using that magical weapon."

At this point I was just making ordinances up as I went along, hoping I could get at least an even fight.

"Right then, I'll change weapons", he grunts. (Now really, How IGNORANT can you get?)

With that he sheaths his Viking and grabs the halberd strapped to his back. (He dares to attempt to vanquish me with my weapon of choice? )

That's when PimpSport, who had been hiding all along, goes into action. Quick as a hare he steals the Magic Viking and darts behind me and hides. I still suspect that Smithey did not notice a thing, as he did not even flinch during this quick moment.

"The halberd he is using is in terrible shape," advises PimpSport "it may fall apart at any moment."

Knowing that this may at best give me an even chance, we lock into combat. However, I had one large advantage, the key to my training is strength (94 in strength). I don't like to dance around and parry -- toe-to-toe, blow-by-blow is my fighting style.

So myself, an Adept Warrior and Smithey, a GM warrior, begin the last fight of one of our lives.

We circle each other, sizing one another up, once again. Checking the straps on our armor, as well as the size of our hearts.

It begins.

Smithey, being more confident, lunges forward with the halberd above his head.

"En Garde!" He bellows.

I step to the side quickly and counter the swing with a wide, sweeping attempt. Both miss, but we are inches from each other from the momentum of our swings. "Die Scoundrel!" Smithey hisses through his teeth. (For a while there I was wondering if he had more than a three word vocabulary)

"You first." I whisper as I smirk at him.

I go for first blood with a step back and bringing the blade from behind him. He moves effortlessly out of the way.

"Schoolyard tricks won't help you here *boy*" he taunts at me.

I then take a tremendous hit at him, taking him down to a little less than a third of his life "Arrrggghhh."

The forest suddenly awakens with cries from Grizzlies' and Dire wolves, sensing the blood from their sleep. Smithey takes a quick step back to re-group, then quickly performs a light tap to my breast plate with the point of his weapon to throw me off balance. Immediately he takes another swing at me hitting me for about a fourth of my life. From nearly four feet away he managed to slice at me and take another sliver away, making us almost even.

"Ugh." I grunt. "Bastard" I whisper, "you shalt regret that"

I step back to balance myself, and regain my concentration. "Focus on your strengths" I tell myself "Go toe-to-toe"

We continue to circle each other, then, when I sense the moment I take two quick steps toward him with my Halberd in front of me, like a staff, Twas an excruciating blow that knocked him down to slivers of life left. With that Smithey began attempted to run but I merely side-stepped right in front of him and brought the force of my halberd down on him one more time ending his life, and the battle.

He fells to the ground with all of his weight.

"Ugghh" I moan.

"OOoo Ooo….." he hisses.

Quickly PimpSport comes out of the shadows and makes every effort to help my condition. "In Vas Mani" he intones, as the lights flitter in front of my eyes.

Feeling much healed I re-group and stand over the body. I then remove his plate, and then whistle as I stroll back to my house, rather cocky for defeating such a powerful foe, and give my ever resourceful colleague, PimpSport, half of the loot . . . . for without him, I would have died.

Moral of this Story:  Well I would say "Don't be a Great Lord", but this is a page dedicated to evil players and most of the evil people in UO are Great Lords anyway. Basically, if someone starts telling you stupid rules like "no magic weapons while fighting" then don't be stupid and take off your weapon. Secondly, try to be a little more perceptive, even the best thieves may be noticed stealing a huge magical viking sword. Oh and one more thing, be careful when fighting people who challenge you despite they know your skill. Wimpy people who are easy to beat don't just go around challenging GM swordsmen to fights.