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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Apr 4, 2007 19:35:28 GMT -5
Two men sat in wooden chairs amongst dank and depression oddities. One held paper and ink with one leg casually folded over the other. The other man sat clad in a warrior’s attire, complete with hardened leather and mail bracers. Two weapons sat by him, one a steal long sword, and the other a long spear used to skewer his opponents. The first man spoke with a slow shrewd voice.
“ So tell me how did you become this famous fighter that the crowds know and love?” Question the man.
Memories flooded the warriors mind. Thoughts of darkness and death poked at him with each memory. Images of a dark alley raced into fruition, a young boy walking along. A scream in the night and a dead girl on the street. The young boy stood in shock as a shadowy figured made it’s escape. The boy was dragged off with a burlap sack tied over his face, a musky smell resonated threw it. The trail was brief and the sentence was cruel. A slave’s life and a warrior’s fate would be the outcome of this boy.
“I was sentences to fight in this. But then when my term was up I couldn’t stop. My hands were permanently bound with chain and blood and nothing short of death will let me escape.” Came the warrior as he rose from his seat and gathered his weapons. Now excuse me I have a battle scheduled for today.
And with that the warrior left the reporter to his work and went towards his. A mirror hung by a wall near him and he stole a quick glance. A rugged man stared back at him, with green eyes, filled with sorrow, and brown hair hung loosely over his face. He turned to face a metal gate. The gate of destiny. One man entered here, another entered one just like it, but only one would get the privilege of coming back. Opening the gate a scent of blood bombarded his senses. He would soon add the blood of his opponents to the marvelous collection.
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Apr 4, 2007 19:57:29 GMT -5
The announcer screamed, louder even then the cheers of the spectators as the two fighters entered the arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen! You know him well! Now give him a good welcoming! AMULIUS SPEARSLINGER!" He shouted, proclaiming that the warrior had entered. "And his opponent!" He said diliberatly not mentioning the name of the other, a tall thin man with a blue and white robe drapped on him, most likely because he was a slave or criminal of some sort.
No armor? I guess its safe to assume he's a mage of sorts. I'll have to be careful. He thought to himself.
Memories returned to him, memories of other battles and other killings in the name of this sport. And now he'd add another to the dimented list of his.
Slowly Amulius walked toward the robed opponent untill he was in clear view. He took of into a run dodging as he saw rifts of air shoot by him. He neared the man, sword grasped tightly in hand to cut down his opponent. He pulled back, then flung forward cutting down thru the air as fast as he could. But instead of meeting flesh he met something hard. He looked to see a blurry splotch blocking his sword. The mage however was a few feet away, no doubt from being propelled by the force. Dust clouded their paths but soon disapated into nothingness. He would have to fight smarter if he'd win this battle.
Amulius knelt down and scooped as much dirt and sand as he could into his hand. Then again he rushed towards his opponent and when near him threw the sand in his face. The mage doubled back and grasped at his eyes. Seeing his advantage Amulius spun on his heel and kicked at the mages ankle while sending the hilt towards the back of the man's head. It met with a thud and a grunt as the mage fell to the earth. The warrior moved to strike but the mage was too smart. He shot a force down on the ground proppelling him back out of harms way. Blood now trickled from his head.
"You know what they say. A caged tiger fights the most when it knows it will die!" Said the mage in a hushed tone as fire spread from his palm.
That's all for now I have to shower and stuff...you'll probably get more tommorrow.
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Apr 6, 2007 17:36:55 GMT -5
sorry I didn't have much time so I'll try to finish this tonight. If not then tomorrow night.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 6, 2007 17:56:13 GMT -5
Not bad blood.
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Apr 7, 2007 16:25:18 GMT -5
The mages words rang in Amulius's ears.
"I know what you mean. Sometimes i feel I've been fighting all my life. Some times I wish it could all just end." Replied the warrior, with a sad face. "But alas we must fight and kill in this world."
The mage gave no reply but instead launched his ball of fire towards Amulius. Waiting for the right moment the warrior quickly jumped out of the way only to be bombarded with more fire balls. He dodged as fast as he could untill he noticed a large body on the ground. He dove towards it and used it as a sheild as he kneeled on the ground. The scent of burning flesh was ripe in the air as the mage's attacks burned his human shield. The warrior was quickly contemplating his options when he noticed a sling of arrrows was straped to the back of the body and a iron bow lying on the ground near him. He grabbed the bow and ripped off the sling to reveal five arrows left. He knocked one in and let it fire only to miss his target by nearly ten feet. He knocked two more in at once and let them fire. Again both missed so he knocked the last two and suddenly got an idea. He threw the body to the ground and ran to the left. Quickly he took aim and fired. One missed but the other knicked his targets shoulder. But Amulius didn't care. He was too busy taking aim and throwing his spear towards the injured mage. He rushed towards his opponent with sword in hand and watched as his spear met the ribs of his target. Amulius jumped now and slashed with his sword meeting the belly of his opponent. The man staggered back as blood spilled from him. Amulius assumed the fight was over and began to walk away when the mage looked at him with a firey intensity in his eyes that match none that Amulius had ever seen. He suddenly felt his body being lifted and thrown as he collided with the wall. Then four blurred rings chained his limbs to the crushed wall. He looked at the bleeding man as he ripped out the spear and lifted it into the air using magic. Then suddenly it shot out like an arrow towards him. Amulius's eyes were fixed on the spear now but his thoughts were else where. Memories of every match flooded his mind and every death that his hands had caused. A smile creeped on his face and his eyes grew large with excitment.
"Yes...YES! DO IT KILL ME! DO WHAT NO MAN HAS EVER DONE AND FREEN ME FROM THIS LIFE! REMOVE THESE CHAINS OF LIFE FROM MY HEART AND END MY SUFFERING!" He screamed as the spear flew towards him. The spear stopped and his eyes became even larger as he looked at the spear laying on the floor. The rings dissapeared and he fell to the ground. He landed on his feet and stood there in shock as the stared at the spear. Then he looked at the mage, who was now dead on the ground with a puddle of blood around him.
"Just...just a few more seconds and it would have hit. If he just stayed alive long enough he would have...won...but no." He whispered to himself "He was weak! He failed! FAILED LIKE ALL THE REST!"
The warrior picked up his spear and sheathed his sword. The sorrow in his eyes returned to him as he left the arena. He collected his reward for the match and went to the hospital wing. He had survived the match but in his mind it was another loss for him.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 7, 2007 17:21:28 GMT -5
A few spelling errors, but otherwise good. Had a good emotional and suspensful ending.
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 8, 2007 7:48:06 GMT -5
I just got caught up on everyones parts so far, and I have to say the collab is going great. You all are doing a wonderful job. I loved your story of the warrior who is a slave to his own will Blood.
(Me!) your story was action packed, and you really tore up that arena a bit.
Dagoth your addition was wonderful, You mentioned the emperor and the town and the happenings of the match before you, which really fused the story together. Thats exactly what I was hoping for. Plus I just love what your character was thinking before his match.
"Though he cursed the practice of magic, he knew that it's many forms and shapes were too powerful, much more significant then his skills with a balde, and because of this he prayed to the gods that his foe was not a coward."
Awesome line.
Unless Hound, or Grey are ready for their post. I'm assuming Hound isn't because its not quite dark yet. But if Grey still needs more time I would like to make my middle post now. I'll try to get it posted tonight, if noone has begun before me.
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Apr 8, 2007 9:21:50 GMT -5
Last I heard grey still needs to work a few things out with his story.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 8, 2007 9:25:21 GMT -5
Dagoth your addition was wonderful, You mentioned the emperor and the town and the happenings of the match before you, which really fused the story together. Thats exactly what I was hoping for. Plus I just love what your character was thinking before his match. Though he cursed the practice of magic, he knew that it's many forms and shapes were too powerful, much more significant then his skills with a balde, and because of this he prayed to the gods that his foe was not a coward. Awesome line. Thanks.
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 9, 2007 8:11:41 GMT -5
Tyramorr opens his eyes. His image is mirrored back at him by the glass ceiling above his luxury bed. The black marble walls gleam in the spacious bedroom. Some Kings have not had the pleasure of such comfort. He takes a deep breath and looks to the beautiful naked brunette lying next to him. Her long hair drapes across her back, and hangs below her arm covering parts of her voluptuous body. Skin as soft as rose petals, and eyes that could capture your very soul with a glance. Still she was just one of hundreds that have laid in that bed before her. All just as impressive. The Goddesses of the Champion. A gift from Emperor Haulinde to his favorite Hero. No matter how well they satisfied his lust of the flesh, they could not fill the hole in his heart. Tyramorr runs two fingers lightly through the young girls hair and closes his eyes. For a moment he believes its her. He'd give everything away for just one more day with is beloved wife. Fate had taken her away from him many years ago however. Murdered... Raped. Now all that was left was the memory, and the anger. He would find his vengeance within the Arena. He didn't care for the glory of being champion, or the cheers of his thousands of fans. He despised them at best. Those blood hungry Heroes that take pride in their craft. No... Tyramorr fought for only one reason... Revenge. The man that murdered his wife was never found, but one that would commit such a crime would be caught eventually. He would kill again, and one day he'd be caught. Then... Then he'll be sent to the end of Tyramorr's blade, for all criminals are sent to the Arena. Tyramorr would kill every last one of the slaves just for the very chance that one of them might be the one. The source of all his pain and suffering. Perhaps then he would finally have peace. Tyramorr opens his eyes and sits up on the end of his bed. He places his head between in his hands. How would he know? How would he know when it was over? Would he be sentenced to live this life forever? To be tortured to a life of killing in the name of vengeance? What about his wife? What about Clara? Would she of wanted this life for him? To murder countless souls in a quest for her, to condemn his very soul? The thoughts have haunted him for quite sometime. Today he'd announce his decision. One way or another, tonights fight... Would be his last. (I don't have to work today, so I should be able to finish this later. )
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 9, 2007 12:15:33 GMT -5
Very suspensful!
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Post by me on Apr 9, 2007 14:23:10 GMT -5
Dramatic would be the word! I just had an idea....how about we keep the gladiator arena going until we reach the maximum allowable posts
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Raistlin
Beginner
I'm tired.
Posts: 2,451
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Post by Raistlin on Apr 9, 2007 15:28:43 GMT -5
Clara isn't, perhaps, a reference to Tales of Symphonia, is it?
and Boreas, some god of wind/water/ice?
oh yeah, and I decided to join this thing. Let me know when you want me to write.
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 10, 2007 4:56:57 GMT -5
(Two posts for ya.. YAY. Next one will be the beginning of the Big battle.
No raist.. I haven't played Tales of Symphonia yet, although I'm about to try and start it. Boreas and Clara were just names that I felt fit into the role nicely. I'm glad you joined the collab however and I'll be sure to let you know when its your turn. Make sure you read everyone elses additions so you can use all the information in yours.)
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Boreas had plenty of time to spare before his next bout. He watched some of the days fights through the metal grates in the Arena walls floors. The grates were about eye level for him in the slave quarters, used to channel the spilled blood through grooves in the Arena and drains them downward past the Slaves quarters to the sewage trap on the far wall. Many of the new slaves have gone quite mad at the constant flow of their former friends blood rushing past where they sleep. It was always an unsettling sight, but one that Boreas had come to get used too.
Although the sight of the blood no longer bothered him, the very thought that he could come accustom to such a horrific sight, chilled him to the center of his soul. He knew he could never come back from this. Even if he was given a full pardon, he could never live a normal life. Not after what he's seen... Not after all he's done. Haulinde had stripped him of everything that was decent. Just a soulless shell of a man, was left.
He could barely remember his life now. What it used to be. He was a member of the Royal Guard once. A loyal guard who took pride in his job. That all changed when Haulinde took over however. Greed, and corruption tainted the once sacred positions of power. Most of the Guard left their positions, and were replaced by those that would follow the new Emperors every whim. If he knew then what he knew now, he would of followed those that walked out, but he stayed. Perhaps he felt it was his duty for Lurestia, or loyalty to his country. Maybe even to just be the sane voice in a time of madness. The guards became little more than common thugs. Was it his duty to turn a blind eye? Or was that his sin?
Ironic how all the years he watched as others suffered, yet the one time they went to far... The one time he decided to put an end to the corruption. It is at that moment he is a murderer. A traitor to his people. Not many knew the truth of that day. Those that were witness to the event have all died in one way or another. The only two that knew the truth now were Emperor Haulinde, and Boreas himself. Nothing could be done now. Who would believe the wild accusations of a criminal? No, the Emperor was making every effort to make sure Boreas would soon find his grave, and then the truth could be buried with him.
Boreas removed the thoughts from his head as he watched some of the other battles before him. The mighty Daemons clashed with Mythical destruction. The Arena walls screamed with the pain of the twin demons fury. Its surface was scorched black, and several pillars were shattered from the ancient beasts. For most of the next match ashes could still be seen floating through the sky, and the sulfuric scent burned ones senses long after the final blow.
Boreas had never faced a Daemon in battle before. He was grateful for that. Their power was not of this world. Haulinde despised the Daemon race, and had started a secret society that branded the Daemons as Heretics, and abominations to the Gods of Falleust. Many were hunted down like animals. The last Daemon that was discovered within the Arena, met an untimely end within the Dungeons below. How he arrived in that specific location is unknown, but Boreas knew Crassus should be careful with his display of power. Obviously the Emperor paired the two to fight each other in hopes he might rid himself of two thorns at once. It almost made Boreas smile at the thought of his failure.
Valens showed great skill in his match. His race was few, but powerful in their own right. Boreas had dispatched a few of their kind, but Valens seemed to hold no emotional connection to their departure. Perhaps it was their way. Then again the Arena has a way of changing a person, none of which is for the good. Boreas felt like he could almost see the hesitation in Valens eyes, but he followed the Emperors orders. Nobody could blame him. They were all slaves in one way or another.
Take Amulius for example. He's killed in the Arena for so long, he knows how to do nothing else. Even when he served his time, he could find peace nowhere. He returned to the Arena, his heart was empty, as his hands when it was not gripping the hilt of his blade. It tore at his insides, and has tortured his mind. Amulius has found a home in the Arena... A home in Hell. He longed for release. He was still a prisoner. Not by the chains that bound the arms and legs of the slaves. But by the chains of longing and guilt. He punishes himself for the life he has. There is no freedom for him now. No release, only death is left for him.
Boreas shakes his head. Perhaps they were all following in his wake. What about him? Was he going to turn out like Amulius? To crave death and its seducing arms? Was he already walking down that path? Others in the Arena looked up to Boreas. If he gave himself to madness, many would follow. He could not handle being the one to condemn the souls of those that thought of him as more than a man. He was no leader however. He tried that once... And look where it has gotten him.
Amulius returns from his bout. His face shows neither victory or defeat. He throws down his spear and walks past the slaves. He doesn't look into the eyes of anyone as he walks. Perhaps he doesn't realize their there. Or perhaps he can't. Either way his return from the Arena grounds meant one thing to Boreas... His second match was up next.
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 10, 2007 6:05:45 GMT -5
Tyramorr pushes past a guard at the entrance to the stands and looks at the thousands that fill the Arena seats. He received a message that the Emperor requested to speak with him before his match tonight. Tyramorr exhaled deeply, he hated being in the middle of the crowd, they screamed loudly and reached to touch him. The two large guards escorting Tyramorr were quick to remove anyone that got to close to him. He always thought it was funny that Haulinde felt the need to assign him body guards. He was the lands most famous Arena combatant after all. Not too many would be in a hurry to pick a fight with the deadliest warrior in the land.
After walking down several flights of stares he can finally see the Emperor surrounded by his cohorts, Haulinde waves the one to his right away to make room for his favorite Hero. Tyramorr reluctantly takes the seat next to the Emperor and looks to the empty Arena grounds. Apparently they were in between battles. A few men quickly enter the grounds and begin lifting some of the bodies onto heavy sheets to carry them away. A few sparsely clothed females enter the grounds and start entertaining the crowd by swallowing swords and blowing fire. Haulinde made sure to never let the crowd get bored.
Tyramorr looks to the Emperor. "They said you wanted to speak with me, your grace?"
Haulinde spoke swiftly and refused to return Tyramorr's gaze. "Yes, yes, m'boy. I wanted to speak with you about your match tonight."
Tyramorr looked at the Emperor quizzically, he had never wanted to talk about a match before it took place before. "Against Boreas? Have no fears your grace, I have studied his matches well. I have full confidence I will defeat the slave."
Haulinde continued to give his full attention to the girls in the Arena. "Of course, of course. I know you will Tyramorr, I know you will. But just the same I have taken a very special interest in Boreas's next match. A have made a few... Altercations myself, that I think you'll find quite amusing."
"Altercations... Your grace?"
"Yes yes, just watch m'boy this is a very special night for you Tyramorr."
Tyramorr looks to the elderly man, and begins to wonder if the Emperor has completely lost it. "Special m'lord?"
Haulinde finally turns his head to face him. "Aye my son. I have just recently been given some information you have a special interest in. We have discovered your wifes murderer Tyramorr... It was Boreas who raped and murdered your wife... And tonight you sit here with me, and together... We will watch him die.
Tyramorr can feel his body begin to shake. He tries to speak, wants to shout into the heavens. Could this be true? Had he finally found the one he's been searching for all these years? His heart overflows with Anger. He wants to see Boreas die, but he needs to die by his hands. He could not just sit here and watch The Emperor rob him of his vengeance. No... Boreas had to survive his next match, so he could die in his last.
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