Hi I'm new so I haven't done much writing before, but well i wrote a short piece and wondering what people think of it.

Counties

A boy with jet black hair stepped out of a taxi onto the cobbled pavement that was filled with the sound of hundreds of voices, each louder than the other so that the person they were speaking to could hear them. A great building cast a shadow over the crowd; it loomed over them like a monster about to leap onto its prey. Everyone was there for one reason and that reason was the county championships.

The boy with the black hair gazed up at a giant sign hanging over the monstrous building that was the county stadium for duelling. Duelling is the most popular sport in the entire world, it originated from the old form a Duel were people would fight to kill each other to solve an dispute. The ways of fighting have changed but not the rules, expect for one, you don’t have to kill someone to end the match. Although Duelling is still done with summoning fire, people don’t die because of shields provide by a number of powerful officials. The aim of the match still remains simple; the first one to hit is the winner.

As the taxi drove away, a massive women with huge muscles stepped out of the main door and in a very deep voice followed by a few giggles, from children standing in the crowd, she said “Welcome to the County Championships, for those of you who have not done this competition before please stay and listen to my instructions; for those that have come here before please proceed to the reception desk for registration.” Numerous people left towards the door where there quickly formed a queue. The women continued “Every year, hundreds of people come to this competition to prove that they are the best and only ten go through to the regional championships. Anyone can join, as long as they are thirteen and over, you will register at the desk by presenting your forms, after you will check when your match is by watching the monitors in the main hall. After you have got the time and pitch of you match proceed to the waiting area, do not be late for your match otherwise you will be imminently disqualified. Spectators please purchase a ticket and you are free to watch any of the matches, the finals will start at nine pm. Thank you for listening and good luck.” Then she strode back through the main doors. The people remanding started to form at the end of the queue.

The boy joined onto the back of the queue, after a few minutes of nervous waiting he reached the desk. An old woman crooked “can I have your forms dear?” The boy handed her the forms that she took and looked like she could barley lift them. “Thank you, Mr Alrick please proceed to the hall.” She said to his great relief.

The noise returned as he entered the main hall through the doors that had a sign saying “MAIN HALL”. A lot of people gazed up at several big screens that showed a table with name, time of match and court laid out with black, blocked letters. As the boy scanned through the list he at last found names beginning with A, he scanned down in tell he found his name Arthur Alrick down near the bottom of the fourth monitor. His first match was at 5:30 am. He looked at his watch and gasped as he saw the time, it was 5:20.

He couldn’t believe they would let the matches start so soon, but they did have to rush through a lot of people in only one day. He quickly looked up and scanned the monitor again, but his name had disappeared. In a panicked quick search of the other monitors he found his name and this time looked for what court it was, it said in big bold letters “court number: 1”. He looked around desperately to find some sign or anything that would tell him where to go.

He found it after a quick run around the hall; it was a slightly smaller copy of the sign that hung outside the door of the main hall. But the words this time said “To all courts” he pushed open the door then saw imminently in front of him another saying “Courts 1-15” then an arrow underneath pointing to his right and “Courts 16-30” with an arrow underneath pointing to the left. He ran to the right and after a few meters of running stopped in front of the doors that said “Court 1”, he checked the time that was now 5:29, took a deep breath of air and then pushed the doors open.

As he stepped into the room behind the doors a man appeared with a clipboard and a broad grin across his small face. “Are you Arthur Alrick?” he demanded “um, yes” the boy replied nervously. “Good” he looked at his note board ticked a box with a black pen he had in his hand and then looked and said in patronising tone “I’m sorry, but... well...your against Mondal Saporate, the county champion for seven years running. I’m sure you’re a great fighter an’ all but well he’s twice your age and yell seeming by your age it’s your first competition with fire. Well...try not to give it to much...he’s not one for mercy and...Well you may get hurt. Just, be careful, OK?” “OK, thanks for the tip” the boy said, rather annoyed that the man thought he was no match for this person. The man then said in an official voice “please proceed through these doors” he pointed at the doors at the other end of the room. Arthur strode towards the door, but as he put out a hand to open them they opened on their own.

As the door opened lighted beamed through the doorway illuminating every dark corner of the room he stood in. The light blinded him as it hit him; he squinted and pulled his hands in front of his eyes to try to stop the light, but to no prevail. As he got used to the light he could see he was in a large pitch with a glass dome instead of a roof or walls. The dome was so big it could not only fit a large circular pitch that was about fifty meters in diameter, but also a large stand that ran around the pitch.

As he looked around the dome, he saw in the stands a few men manning some cameras. He knew that they were not there for this match or any of the matches but the final, but as he was thinking this he heard a man shouted “OK, is everything set?” he looked around at each of the men and one nodded towards him and he said “OK let’s do a test run on this match, everyone get ready.” The man then shouted to a tall man dressed in black robes “Mondal, can you take it a bit easy, he’s only a small kid and we need a decent run to test everything.” The man dressed in black nodded his head. There was a short, fat man with an unhappy face, dressed in bright green, the colour that all referees have to wear. He shouted making his face go red “contestants mark your ready” he looked at Mondal first who nodded at him than at Arthur, he nodded. “Ready” there was a brief pause “fight”.

Arthur felt a surge of power near the surface of his cloths; it was the officials putting up a tight shield around him. He raised his own around that, if anything breached that then he would lose the match. Mondal raised his own, he then laughed and shouted at Arthur “you can’t possibly beat me, I’m the champion, your nothing but a low life kid” Arthur shouted back in retaliation “you’re a champion of nothing the people you face were weak, they were no match for as you shall be no match for me!” Mondal muttered under his breath “stupid kid.”

Mondal jumped into the air, aided by some magic, he leapt up fifty feet in the air and then punched the air. Blue fire erupted from his fist surging towards Arthur; he dived out of the way just in time. The blue fire just missed his face by millimetres and before he had time to gather his senses he saw more fire erupt from Mondal’s fist. He pushed himself off the floor, sending magic to aid his muscles, he launched up into the air dogging blue fire as Mondal punched it at him through his fists.

Everything was a blur, he had no time to think, it was just his body reacting with every movement of Mondal’s. Every strike his body agilely dogged, he soon started sweating and panting in the effort of dogging all of Mondal’s attacks. He sent a force strike towards Mondal that landed on his chest and made him to topple over backwards.

Mondal hissed curses at him through his teeth; he jumped up still cursing Arthur. Arthur smiled and laughed “so you’re not that good are you?” he shouted at Mondal “maybe you should give up.” “Shut up, you haven’t seen nothing yet you cocky kid” shouted Mondal back in an anger.

White fire sprouted from Arthur’s hands, Mondal’s eyes widened and then he laughed “is that your only weapon, white fire, it may be rare but it your still not as powerful as me, you little kid” Mondal kicked off the floor, launching himself towards Arthur, blue fire flaring out of his fists as he punched the air as fast as he could. Arthur launched himself into the air as well, dogging blue fireballs as they were launched at him. As he landed he pushed both his hands together and launched all his power into one flame strike. As it thundered towards Mondal he felt the shield of the officials leave him and transferee all their power to the shield shielding Mondal. At the same time he felt a huge wave of power as officials all over the building transferred their power to the shield surrounding Mondal. As the strike landed and engulfed Mondal in white fire his shield collapsed and he was defeated.

Mondal was on his knees panting and utterly exhorted, he had used all his power trying to stop Arthurs strike from breaching his shield. He had failed. He tried to stand up but he just fell over in extortion, medics rushed in through the door and knelt down next to him. The referee, who had just got over the shock of what had happened, shouted “the winner is Arthur Alrick!”