Champion (Mature: Language, Violence) [Archive]

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CanineKing

01-27-2009, 12:47 AM

Here is a story I wrote the other night! I thought I'd post it on these forums for you guys! Hope you enjoy!(Please note the captioned Mature rating on my story title. Some elements in this story may be inappropiate for minors, such as language or violence.)-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Champion"No..."his voiced moaned deeply through the halls. Water dripped high from the ceilings, smashing into puddles, forming small rivers that flowed through the rock cracks of the floor. A guard's steel boots stamped on the stone floor, splashing water in the air. He panted heavily. "Sir, they call for him. They are becoming restless,""Needn't say more Captain," the man held out his hand in a commanding force, his voice dragging on like an old man. Then again, he himself was elderly. He stroked his grey beard, his bloodshot eyes piercing the flesh of it's target. He examined a beaten man, bound by hard metal chains, his bloody knees resting on the rocky floor, his head hung down as if it was broken off; hanging on barely by a thread of bloody muscle. His hair was black in true origin, but was painted gray from his ongoing stress. He was a well built man, with broad shoulders, gaping arms, powerful legs, a stout but tall statue, and a husky appearance from afar. He was dressed in a torn and irritable cloth pants, with numerous holes and patches, it's lacy stitching poking his skin. His hands hung numbly in the air, frozen from the frosty wind that bellowed through the chambers. He did not speak; he hardly listened. By now, he was broken of all spirit and hope.He was utterly dying slowly inside, his hopes of freedom cast into shadows. He had only now to rely on his strength to earn himself the chance to walk amongst his old friends once more. He fantasized about the days of old, after a hard day of work, he would soothe his muscles relaxing in a beautiful meadow. Flowers infected the plains, with blankets of soft green grass. He lay with his hair flowing gently in the cool breeze, his eyes wandering the skies in pursuit of fluffy clouds in which he could dreamily speculate about their shape. But those days are far gone, distant memories in which he recollects less and less each day, for they only bring him inordinate sorrow. He wallowed in his own misery mindlessly, trying so hard to forget these things, for he does not want to become too attached to something he will never have.This is how it had been since the Militia captured him. By now, the old man had decided his fate. He kicked the kneeling man in the groin, and grimly grinned. He moaned and ached from pain, gritting his teeth, but not screaming. Screaming...this simple action had haunted him for some time now. For days, he would hear the screams of tortured prisoners, of excited spectators, and ghosts who wish to dwell the halls in a never ending life of hell. The old man turned to the guard briskly."He will do, pit him against Manta, he will handle this whelp callously."The guard murmured silently, trying not to anger the old man, for he was not fond of protest. "Do you...really think that would be most.....entertaining, sir?""What? You dare to resent my decision? Are you saying that my word is gibberish, and that YOU would much rather pick the combatants?" the old man impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for a reply. The guard gulped, swallowing the spit that had been building up in his dry mouth out of nervousness. He simply gave the old man a half bow and readied Manta. Manta was chained nearby, down the corridors of the dungeon, bound by strong chains of steel. He growled menacingly and howled manically. As he was brought to the lift, he turned to his foe."This twig? I have spilled countless blood, my face splintered by swords, my hands blistered by bones, and you bring me this meat? Worthless, the whole lot of you! Is this really what the people came for? He will be dead within seconds,"The guard took out a bull whip, and lashed Manta several times. The old man faced Manta, with a sinister look upon his face. He edged a smile, but one of evilness. "There, perhaps now it will be even," after a few more lashes Manta was placed on the lift. Water drops fell and hit his wounds, stinging deeply. The guards picked up the other man, and dragged him to the lift. The guards beat him viscously with clubs, "Wake up you whelp!""Stop dreaming weakling!""You dirty nave, rise!"He groaned repeatedly, and tried his hardest to rise. His muscles were numb, his heart sluggishly pumping blood back into his arms. They hoisted him up quickly, and awaited to be lifted. The lift was a circular platform, attached to steel chain link cables. Nearby slaves and prisoners pulled levers vigorously to lift the duelers up into a trapdoor above them. Amos lazily opened his eyelids, only finding them to close. After a few attempts, his vision returned, but only shortly, for they were soon interrupted by the flash of the sun; it's blinding light merciless on fresh pupils. He felt the beating adrenaline pulse through his veins, and the roar of the crowd rejuvenating his drive. He was shoved onto burning sand, it's heat radiating in burns on his skin. He hissed severely, and stood up weakened. A guard slashed the chains on his hands in pieces, and kicking him in the groin. Amos fell to the ground once more, crying in agony. Manta was released remorsefully, and was handed an indomitable weapon. He held the war hammer high up, measuring it's length, and swung it smashing into the soil, testing it's brutality. He growled terrifyingly, shouting to the crowd in joyous taunting rage. He turned to Amos, laughing mockingly. Amos thrust himself up. And studied his surroundings. Dead bodies were flung around, pierced by spears and clubbed by axes. Amos soothed his blistered wrists, and grasped the hilt of a nearby sword. He hoisted it out from it's previous caretaker (now dead) and cleaned off the dry blood with his palms. Manta howled endlessly. His saliva shattered everywhere, and he whipped the hammer in circles. Amos took a stern stance, and awaiting his opponent's move. Manta happily accepted the challenge.He charged at Amos, swinging the hammer furiously. Amos ducked and rolled, and slashed Manta across the back. He yelped in pain, and crashed the hammer in front of Amos. Amos smirked at Manta tauntingly. Manta was infuriated, and pulled back his massive arms and whirled the giant batter at Amos. He slyly evaded the attack and swung his blade into Manta's spine. The sword was implanted into his bones, and he fell on the ground, twitching in pain. He cringed slightly, only to die moments later. Amos panted heavily and turned to the cheering crowd. He raised his hands, demanding silence. The crowd attentively listened for a victorious rant by their new champion. "Hear me, hear me, you fools! I have spilled your blood now, soiling these grounds in sinful liquid. Are you satisfied? You beasts! You damned fools! You sit up there, your fat lazy [Removed for Content] sitting in your stone thrones and wooden benches, cheering on us men. You pit us against each other in combat, as we reluctantly slay each other in pointless blood shed. You are sick! How could you marvel at such a thing? I disgrace the gods for having founded such savage beasts such as yourself, and you certainly deserve no respect from me. You demented whelps!" the old man worriedly called over the guard captain. "He is disrupting these people's good time, silence him,""Yes, sir, of course." the guard captain signaled his men, and their bows were aimed. Their quivers ready for extra shots as their bow remained erect waiting for an order to fire. The guard captain looked back at the old man. "Are you sure, Lucan?""Of course I am you fool! Smite his being from this world so that he not pollute our citizen's minds with morality!" the guard captain nodded, his tongue swallowed by shame. Amos continued his speech. "And what of this war? What is the point! I can see Lucan commanding it, but you citizens must have at least an ounce of mercy and pity...you must at least not enjoy this constant bloodshed! Then again, you enjoy this type of sport for entertainment? I can only see the demons that Lucan has bred here, in Freeport, and you all will burn in hell!". The guard Captain hollered, "Fir...Fire!" Amos perked up. He could not feel the first arrow, but the others stung him badly. He thudded into the ground, blood squirting out in eruptions. He cursed loudly, but the loss of life slowly ate him. He whispered prayers to himself, asking for forgiveness for this killing, and for mercy when entering the Underworld. His death was precise and executed in excellent sequence, and the Overlord was impressed. The crowd yelled in resentment to the act, as the woman cried, holding their children tightly. The Overlord turned to his precious guard captain. "It is too late. They have had a taste of good, and it sickens me. I am losing control of my people. Not just because of this event, but I have noticed it so very carefully edging it's way into a downfall of my empire." Lucan turned away into disgust, surveying the arena. The guard captain stood solemnly. He quietly reached for a dagger out of his vest. He crept closely to Lucan."You know what, Captain? I underestimated you...". The Overlord turned suddenly, planting his blade into the Captain's chest, as blood rained out. The Overlord grinned a grim smile, and twirled the blade around by it's hilt, cascading the Captain's guts about his body. He fell down to his knees, gasping for breath, only to have the Overlord's foot meet his teeth. They cracked under the force, and a dizziness over swept him. He was now dead; cold like stone. The Overlord cast an appalling glance over the Arena, as his children's sinful nature was distorted into an empathy for the warrior's words. The Overlord spat in disgust. And ordered the archers to take aim at any and all citizens in the arena. At first, the archers exchanged confused glances. But, the Overlord's terrible eyes pierced an overwhelming fear into their souls, and the fired a storm of steel tipped arrows. One archer cried as he shot a blind arrow, and watched as it pelted the chest of his wife. She screamed in agony, and fell to the ground, trampled by desperate citizens trying to escape the wrath of Lucan. The Overlord did not stay to witness the grotesque massacre, instead, he walked out of the arena through a shady corridor, only enjoying the sound of terrific shrieks in the distance, with a ghastly grin on his forbidding face.------------------------------------Edit: the old man strokes his beard instead of scar

niko_teen

02-05-2009, 12:25 PM

Previously I've sent PMs but jsut wanted to post here publicly that I'm enjoying your story. It is nice to see new blood coming around to share their stories and look foreward to your next post in this story.

Doowy

02-08-2009, 07:27 AM

Nice! I really hope you get some time to write some more of this, thats an awesome start.

CanineKing

02-12-2009, 01:51 AM

Thanks for reading and commenting on my story! Here is a little more, hopefully you enjoy it!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ChampionKalon stared blankly at his dusty old books. They lay scattered about his desk; unorganized and some in terrible condition. He rubbed his rough fingers across their tired creases, and flapped through the grimy pages. Kalon puffed up, and blew a huge gust of wind at his desk. He then took a quiet seat on his splintered chair. He picked at the loose thorns and threw them away. He picked a few of the loose thorns and threw them away.He sighed heavily, and stacked the books neatly on the desk's shelf. He then raised his eyes to a small portrait of a beautiful woman hanging, crooked if I may add, on the wall. He grabbed it and placed it carefully on his desk. He cautiously removed the painting from it's frame, and played with the crinkled edges. He then affectionately ran his finger across the face of the beauty.Her skin was a dark white, with long brown hair that flowed around her shoulders and onto her breasts. Her eyes glittered with an ominous glow that aroused Kalon's senses. Her plump lips were bright red, like blood, and her eye lashes were a broad black. He sighed once more, and returned the portrait to it's previous location. He then stood up, and left his small inn room.He wore a scratchy wool cloak, with a various stitching embedded along it's seams, and a patched hood. It did a vile job of maintaining the dryness of Kalon's head during thunderous rain storms. He bore with him a rusted knife, perhaps if he was ever to run into the inevitable trouble that seemed so commonplace in the grim city of Freeport. Rain battered against the worn rooftops of the city, and Kalon grunted as he felt the wet drops pierce his scalp. He could not feel angry for long, however, for the scent of rain was such a pleasure smell it soothed Kalon's mind in an extremely calming state. He felt safe, and without rush, in the rain. The storm revitalized his curiosity and intellectuality.He flared his nostrils and weaved his way through the denizens of the Overlord who polluted the streets with their rancid breaths and morbid tongues.Kalon hurriedly sped to the tavern, bobbing and dodging the crowds of foul creatures and petty thieves. Once, a long time ago, implanted in the sore and old layers of Kalon's memory, he remembered when he had encountered a pick pocket before.The man was a slimy weasel, with a snake like tongue, and a devilish goatee. Kalon felt his hand sifting through his bag, and had whirled around, throwing his knife precisely on the pick pocket's throat. A huge gash was cut, and blood erupted quickly. The man gagged for mere moments, before he smashed into the ground, and, as if nothing was amiss, the Freeportians simply walked over him as if he was a dirt pile.One boy, very young, had the gross nerve to not only notice the body, but to spit on it severely. Kalon looked on in disgust, and dashed to his destination.Now Kalon was immensely weary of his pockets, and his bags, and even his body.There were many murderers about Freeport, as they lurked in the shadows of grime, and laughed at the morality of a sane man. Kalon heard strange stories of murderers jabbing poison darts into unsuspecting victims while they rushed through the marketplaces and alley ways.Kalon finally found his way into the tavern, where he was greeted by an unanimous feeling of hostility. Kalon...had a reputation.His true origins were never admitted openly, and many rumors had spread he was Qeynos scum. Even wild accusations that he was a spy for Bayle had surfaced in the ears of filth, and many built up a foolish hatred of Kalon. But none dare lay a dirty hand on him, for he had a history of violence. He was a viscous rogue who did not take kindly to being disturbed. Even the Militia kept their distance from a man whose anger always enveloped into his conscious. A man whose solitary behavior always clouded his judgment even towards the innocent at heart.Kalon took a seat, alone of course, at a table located in a dark corner of the tavern. The bartender brought him a generous pint of ale, and Kalon thanked him with sinister tone. He took a sip of the warm ale. It was a delicious sensation as the tasty liquid ran down his cold, cracked throat. After draining the pint in a single gulp, Kalon returned it to the table, and wiped his foam encrusted beard with his arm. Kalon sat back in his seat, and looked behind him.There was a soiled window for Kalon to view Freeport excessively. The rain danced along the streets as the wind bellowed like thunder through the shutters. Kalon smiled faintly, and then turned to the bar. Several wooden tables lay distributed about the tavern. The bartender vigorously rubbed a dirty glass with a brown rag, and entertained a few of his customers with delicious specialty drinks. Kalon shook his head in a shameful wave, and sadly peered into his empty pint."I heard Manta splattered his guts!"A voice eradicated from a nearby table. Kalon became interested at the conversation. Two humans, one a tall slim scholar, the other a wide brute, and a lazy troll conversed about the Arena games. Apparently, Kalon gathered, a very important event had occurred recently. Kalon listened intently."No way man, the sonofabitch didn't last five minutes before old Champion put the sorry fool down!""No way, Manta doesn't go down that easily. It must've been fixed!"The troll intervened abruptly."You both are bloody fools! I was there. I stood high up in the row cheering as they clashed steel. Champion dodged a few of Manta's heavy hits, and struck the poor dog down soundly, HA, it was almost like a blur. Manta's fame as a champion is now shattered!"The troll smiled and took a sip from his pint. Kalon noticed as he gulped down the stream of ale, a rat head had tumbled into his mouth, and he crunched on it gladly. The scholar lay back in his seat, and munched tirelessly at his scone. He then sparked another conversation."What bout the massacre? Did that really happen?""Of course, it did, HEH, the Overlord must have gotten a little hyper! The rush of the fighters and all,"The scholar frowned at the troll's tongue. He spoke with an intelligent but dumbfounded diction; his grammatical weaknesses visibly strong. The thug interrupted."How did you escape so easily? I heard it was a storm of-""I was hit a few times, but they did not harm my skin. I merely brushed them arrows off, and found my way out,"silence overwhelmed them. The scholar broke it."Well, since the Overlord killed Amos, it doesn't look like he is going to be able to gloat over Manta's fall!""Doesn't matter anyhow, HA, the fool was a Qeynosian..."Kalon's eyes widened. He fell back in his seat, his hands motionless; his face like stone. He murmured silently,"Amos? No, my brother..."The bartender hollered Kalon's named repeatedly until Kalon's daze ended. He turned dreamily to the bartender."Another pint, eh, Kalon?"Kalon nodded his head slowly, and the bartender darted to Kalon's table. He refilled Kalon's pint of ale, and went back to his station, where barrels of various wines and ales lay stacked upon each other neatly. Kalon resumed his eavesdropping as their voices grew louder again."So, what do you think the Overlord is going to do now? I'm sure less guests will show up at the arena this week,"the thug questioned the other two. The scholar replied quickly."Well, I personally believe he is loosing faith in his people. He might think we are giving in to the ways of good, of hope, of morality, but we must show him our strength! We should all go to the arena, to prove our worth as loyal citizens!""Aye,""Aye,"They all banged their pints together and drank in a merry manner. Kalon, too, sipped his pint in a single gulp. He was now refreshed from the liquid, but his mind wandered else where. Again, he thought of Amos. Kalon's eyes closed tightly, and he tried to picture Amos. But it was a futile effort. It had been too long an interval between their last encounter. Kalon did not open his eyes, however, instead he imagined the beautiful woman from the portrait again. Her hair gallantly prancing in the breeze; her voice echoing in an angelic tone. Kalon opened his eyes, and glanced out the window. The clouds were black as coal with strikes of yellow flashes cascading from the heavens, as rivers broke into drops of rain and splattered the stony Norrath. Kalon sighed. This time, he asked the bartender for another pint. The bartender, happy to have a paying customer drink several pints, brought Kalon his desired ale. Kalon did not sip it, though. He glared at the swishing waves of the ale. They stopped after no more force pounded against the waters, but Kalon blew gently to create a whirlpool in his ale. Suddenly, a familiar voice fractured Kalon's ears."Alas, if only Champion was still here!""Aye,""Aye,""Aye,"Kalon shifted his eyes back to the table. A short, but stout, man stood beside the troll. His face was round and his nose long. He wore dented glasses, and held out his giant hands in a commanding force. He then, as if by order, turned to face Kalon. Kalon smiled greatly, and welcomed the beetle like man."I thought I told you never to come here again..." Kalon said."I thought I told you never to remind me again..." Paxt replied.They both chuckled, and exchanged firm hand shakes. Kalon grinned.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Added 2/12/09Kalon's coarse voice spoke silently in fear of listeners, and Paxt, quite calm, listened without worry."What brings you here friend, it is not often I see such a face as yours?"Paxt beamed modestly, and loudly replied."I have come, for you..."Kalon, confounded by Paxt's intentions, stroked his beard and fixed his dreary eyes on his comrade. Paxt's mood had changed dramatically. He came to the tavern in an enlightened mood, but now, he spoke in a voice of a befuddled intelligence."Well, not exactly that, but along those lines. Hmm, let me try to recount again for my purpose,""Do you need coin?""No, not anything like that, rather, it is a quest for you, no, not quite, hmm..."Paxt trailed off into thought. Kalon pondered rapidly at what exactly Paxt was trying to speak of. Qeynos? Amos? Her? Kalon's mind quickly transferred back to his friend, Paxt."Kalon, remember the fields?"Kalon nodded obediently."The plains of Antonica, their wide open pastures of green grass and fertile soil. Remember...the feel of the ground beneath your feet? As you dashed along happily, exposing yourself to the joy that exhilarated you so gaily! Skipping to the tune of birds and the hymn of Bayle, and the harmony of the warm breeze. Or has your memory dimmed?"Kalon meditated upon Paxt's words, and his head was flooded with refreshing memories of a wondrous childhood. And then, he cracked a smile across his scruffy face."Yes,"He muttered. Paxt nodded his head in relief, and then, Paxt's smile vanished. His face toiled with an anguish, and he tried to utter a word, but found himself stuttering."Well, do you....hmm...do you remember the....joy?""Yes,""Do you remember...Qeynos?""Perhaps, Paxt, how does this apply to your coming?""Very...severely, my dearest Kalon.""How so? You still have not revealed the business of your presence?""Kalon...you are truly a warrior! You have no time for recollecting old joys, instead, you seek to come straight to the core of a problem, hoping there is a challenging endeavor for you to overcome. I assure you, Kalon, there is a challenge to fuel your thirst for battle!""HEH, I respect your...honesty. Most people, rather, think me as a simple thief or vagrant!""Yes, well....not me,"This was followed by an awkward silence. The tavern no longer hummed with the sound of bustling drunks and busy entertainers. It was dead. The afternoon had always yielded a quiet hiatus at the bar. Kalon usually enjoyed this time because of the solemn serenity he could opulently enjoy. Paxt examined a tiny recluse spider crawling across the table. He watched closely as it's legs moved in perfect coordination with his body, and his many eyes. This enticed Paxt. He relished in observing a creature act out simple, mundane tasks, such as walking. But, his relaxing viewing was broken as Kalon's scarred palms met the recluse with powerful force. Kalon wiped his hand steadily across the table, disposing of the spider's remains off of his hand, but leaving a trail of squashed guts across the table. Paxt licked his dry lips, and continued his conversation."Kalon, do you like Freeport?""I suppose,""I mean, would you live here in the utmost contentment with it?""Perhaps, Paxt, where are you going with this?""I mean, if you had a choice, would you return to Qeynos?"Kalon sat back mutely. He really had not ignited thought on that particular subject. He always felt...indifferent about it."I...do not know, maybe,""Kalon, I see it in your eyes. Your anger, your rage, your grotesque mind...so disturbed are you, yet you show it none,"

CanineKing

02-24-2009, 01:08 AM

Here is a little more, please enjoy!----------------------------------------------------Kalon and Paxt both indulged into a sudden awkward silence. Kalon kept his bloody eyes fixed on Paxt's face, whilst Paxt toiled with a pocket watch carved from gold. It was a very beautiful trinket. It was a round, thick golden case, painted with intricate carvings of a fierce lioness and lion, both on the top and bottom of the case. Inside ivory hands moved ever so sluggishly as time progressed. Paxt nervously opened and closed, peculiarly never actually observing the time of day. Instead his eyes merely examined the motions of the case. Kalon realized Paxt had delve into deep thought, and Kalon pondered endlessly about the subject of Paxt's attention. Paxt's eyes motioned up to Kalon's face, and then he spoke again."Kalon, times are changing. The Overlord is planning the ultimate destruction of Qeynos and Kelethin, and he will not allow someone like Amos to tamper with his mind. He feels threatened by the lack of loyalty portrayed by his citizens. But, he is vulnerable, of course. This, is where you strike him down,""What do you mean? You want me to kill the Overlord? HA! Old Paxt, you are just as senile as I remember you,""No, not that! I want you to kill....the Queen.""What? HA! You're insane, Paxt. Me, kill Queen Bayle? What the hell is that going to prove? What the hell is it going to accomplish?""It will succeed much! If you slay the Queen, the Overlord will feel eased. Then, as he realizes the exposure of a weak Qeynos, he will, of course, move his forces against the Qeynosians, however, then, we will be able to strike him more easily. He will let down his guard; his security will weaken. The Militia will be deployed, practically abandoning the city! The Overlord won't be there for the siege of Qeynos, no, he will wait until they are victorious, then he will march to the broken debris, and burn it all to the ground! This gives us a slim chance to kill him, take full reigns of the city, and ultimately establish justice to Norrath!""That is an insane idea! It will never work...""Kalon...you must understand the beauty of our plan.""What do you mean, our? This was your idea,""Not quite. I have acquaintances...""Really? Like who?""Like my allies, the exiled of Haven. They are valuable...They have lurked in the shadows and darkness of the night, and are waiting to unleash their sheathed blades upon the Overlord's neck!""Hmm, and what if this plan fails?""Then we all....die....as simple....as that,"Kalon sat in silence, reviewing what he had just been offered. He wondered, if he should take Paxt's proposal, and kill Queen Bayle to save Norrath. The plan seemed well thought out, but if the execution was to slip but slightly, it would ruin the foundation of success. Kalon rubbed his aged hands on his blade's hilt. He discouraged his skill; he feared it had diminished over the years. And yet, a growing confidence inside him rallied the fierce battle spirit of old.He remembered, the fires of Zek, rising in the distance. He remembered the battle cry of the orcs, as they marched with ferocious temper towards him. He turned to Amos, who valiantly held his ground without trembling. Amos gave Kalon a quick glance, and smiled. He spoke, "Well now, looks like we are going to die, eh Kalon?""No, I think we may have a chance!"They both laughed even though they knew the doom that ran at them in steel boots."Well, Kalon, if my blood be spilled first, promise to take my blade, and smite my slayer?""Agreed, and likewise with you Amos? If my blood be spilled first, promise to take my blade, and smite my slayer?""Agreed"They both smiled, and soon they felt the warm, smog breath of the orcs rush against their skin. Kalon's blade swung back and forth, cutting down waves of grunts, as Amos wielded his blade with such mastery as to take out his foes in a flamboyant matter his superfluous strikes seemed to radiate the battle field. For simple killings, where Kalon would merely chop off a head, Amos blocked rapidly and threw jabs at the orc's jaw, cracking it, an then thrusting his blade through the orc's heart, and screaming with such a fiery rage it soon polluted the battle field, as many soldiers began to scream.Kalon laughed at his friend's show, and continued to blandly slice the charging orcs. The fight ended within minutes, as retreating orcs were shot down by archers, and the surviving soldiers cheered. Amos and Kalon both stared at each other, panting, and happily greeted each other."I see you killed many," Amos said. Kalon chuckled, and replied, "Yes, more than you I see," They both returned their weapons to their sheaths, and looked at the strewn bodies of orcs.Kalon choked a little. He then swallowed deeply, and turned to Paxt."Yes, I would do it! I would kill Queen Bayle, to kill the Overlord!""Good, that is all I needed to hear!"Suddenly, a huge screech broke out Kalon covered his ears, and turned to the entrance of the pub. Two ogres dressed in thick black armor holding up rusted scimitars snarled angrily, and a short dark elf walked in. He wore similar armor, and wielded a spiked mace."HAHA, so glad to hear that, Kalon!" he blurted out across the bar.Kalon's heart thudded with energy. He turned to Paxt, who cackled loudly. Kalon then knew exactly the situation : He had been set up. The ogres charged, shaking the pub with their massive steps. Kalon drew his knife, and dodged the swing of the first ogre. His experienced eyes searched for an opening, and he quickly jabbed his knife into an open spot on the ogre's neck. He yelped in pain, and flailed around. Kalon kicked him furiously, and he went crashing through the window above Kalon's table. Kalon faced the other ogre, who threw a hammering strike. Kalon sidestepped, and knocked his bony fist under the ogre's chin.Kalon flinched in pain, and grasped his hurting fist. The ogre smirked, and threw a powerful punch at Kalon's cheek. Kalon smacked the ground painfully, and moaned in agony. The pain was bitter, as he felt his teeth bleed sorely. He rubbed his jaw, and licked his lips. It had been so long, his body had forgotten pain, so he reacted to it immensely. His body was stiff, he was not as agile as he once was. The spirit that burned in him so intensely had vanished, replaced a laziness of comfort. Kalon then remembered the rotten fields of Zek.Amos hollered a triumphant cry at the orcs, who looked on in disgust. Amos led his horse to Kalon, who was eagerly awaiting the command to charge. "So, are you ready, friend?""I've never been more anxious! To think, I stand here, before the Deathfist Citadel. In all it's glory, just waiting for us to crumble it. I hope Emperor Fyst knows of the warriors to stand before it!""I do not think he does, Kalon, especially ones who are so powerful,"They both laughed at each other. Then, a horn blew out. It shot a thundering shriek throughout the lands. Amos perked up, and said to Kalon, "Good luck, friend,""Good hunting comrade!"They both signaled their mounts, and charged yelling at the top of their lungs and the gates of the Citadel. Vigo Cerebus challenged them, and was slain easily. Kalon and Amos slashed their way into the corridors of the Citadel, and hopped off their mounts. They both followed each other into one of the nearby towers, leaving behind a bloody massacre. They climbed the ladders, and stood vigilant on top of the towers.The archers, too busy shooting the warriors below, were struck heavily from behind. Kalon and Amos fought their way to the catapult, and were welcomed by a comrade known as Temere. He greeted them with a raise of his fist, and the Iksar hissed violently as he threw orcs down into the winding corridors below. Together, they pushed with all their force to topple the catapult over. Kalon gritted his teeth. He felt his muscles tighten, and his arms enlarge; his veins bursting with blood. Kalon's hands were harmed by splinters, but he merely brushed off the pain.He was too used to it. Then, several arrows pierced his back and chest. He gasped rigorously for air, but continued pushing with all his might. The catapult fell over, crushing a group of orcs below. Amos, Kalon, and Temere all cheered. Kalon pulled out the arrows and threw them to the side. His armor was covered in streams of blood, but this did not bother him. He was battle hardened, and pain was as common as breath.It was another part of his life, and he enjoyed it. The pain gave him a rush of anger, and he made his strikes harder, his moves fast, his fury uncontrollable. Kalon was greatest when in suffering. Suffering was greatest when in Kalon.Kalon's eyes blazed. He spat out a mixture of saliva and blood, and pulled himself up. He stood face to face with the ogre, who grunted mockingly. He punched rapidly a combination of upper cuts and quick jabs directly into the ogres face. The ogre laughed while receiving the beating as Kalon's knuckles erupted with blood.He gritted his teeth, and grunted with pain. He struck with all his might, and all his passion. He then threw his hand back far, and torpedoed his fist across the air. The collision was great as the cracking noise was heard even by the bartender ,who cowered behind the bar table. Kalon clobbered the ogre savagely, and finally, he fell.The ogre slammed into the ground, causing such a quake as to spill over a few empty glasses. The dark elf cracked his neck, and swung around his mace in circles to warm up it's strike. The chain rattled. Kalon gazed at his bloodied fists in sheer satisfaction. He muttered, "Yes," as he panted excessively.The dark elf swung the mace; Kalon ducked. He tripped the dark elf onto the ground, and the mace fell right onto his purple face, splattering it everywhere. Paxt's grin disappeared, and he dashed for the door, only to be stopped halfway by Kalon. Kalon grasped his arm, and threw Paxt onto a nearby table."You filthy little whelp, you set me up?""Now, now Kalon, I didn't mean it!""I thought you were my friend, my comrade, now I see you are just a slum like everyone else in this [Removed for Content] city!"Kalon raised his fist to pummel Paxt's face, but was knocked over the head by a club, or rod. Kalon couldn't tell. It was hard, and shattered his mind. His eyes closed, and everything went dark. His ears failed. Then he lost thought and fell asleep, lying on the floor, out cold.

CanineKing

03-17-2009, 11:19 PM

"Come now, follow me, Kalon!" a pure voice spoke softly.It was riddled by innocence and happiness. Kalon perked up, and smiled."Coming, slow down!".They both laughed. She ran quickly, weaving through the tress skillfully, while Kalon clumsily attempted to follow. She giggled joyfully, and finally halted her path. She stopped in front of a beautiful pond, with large tree branches woven around the edges, as if to represent benches. Birds fluttered pointlessly in the bushes; picking at berries. An attractive waterfall poured it's gleaming rays of water into the pond ruthlessly. Kalon flared his nostrils, and absorbed the mesmerizing scent of natural beauty. The most pristine moment; a fluttering memory of happiness and joy.And yet it seemed out of place, Kalon thought. Especially considering he would dream of it now..."Get up you filthy sonofabitch!"An angry guard blurted out at Kalon. His exhausted eyes fought to open up. He bled his eye lids open, and coughed heavily. He sorely moved about his arms, noticing they were bound in frigid shackles."Well come on, don't just sit there! You basterd, get up!"The guard burst the door open and walked into the dark cell. He blasted a kick into Kalon's groin. Kalon mitigated the pain. He struggled to arise, despite the viscous shackles.The prison guard whipped out a bronze key, and released Kalon's arms from their imprisonment. He grasped Kalon's shoulder and led him into a narrow hallway, paved with sandy brick, and concealed in shadows. Kalon stumbled along as the guard shoved him down the path."Keep it walking peon, or I'll slice ya throat!"A peculiar butterfly had nested on Kalon's nose. It twinkled it's marvelous wings, and perched it's eyes towards Kalon's face. He examined it carefully, and playfully brushed it off. He crept close to her, as they watched the butterfly twirl up into its abysmal sky. She laughed. Kalon's ears tingled with sincerity. The gushing waters danced along the pond shore, and Kalon laid his bare feet into the water. It soothed his soles, and she followed along with her feet. His hand wandered about the ground, eventually landing on hers. She turned to him and smiled."Here's the sonofabitch, sir, sorry to keep ya waiting! But this basterd can't walk, must got crap stuck in his ears cause' I been telling him to walk fastor!"The guard struck Kalon's chest with a club. He felt the air in his body explosively escape his breath as he gasped for its return. The old man raised his forceful hand.The guard loosened his grip on Kalon's shoulder; Kalon fell to his knees. He tossed his head back to remove the blinding hairs, and peered up at the old man."So, you're Kalon, eh?""No,""Don't be insolent with me, boy!"The old man's hand met Kalon's face with maddening strength."You're Kalon, eh?""Yes...""Well then, I suppose you know why you're here?""No,""What do you mean, no?""I mean, I'm not even sure where we are, how do you expect me to know why?"Kalon's face began to blush red from the slaps."Listen, boy, answer me! Do you know why you're here?""Because, I am not a Freeportian? Because I am not the Overlord's humble follower? Because I think you people are sick?""Good, now that is an answer!""Sir, he is disrespectin' Lucan! Shall I teach this whelp some manners?""No Kruj, leave me be, I wish to enjoy some alone time with our newest guest,""As you wish, stay well,""Farewell,"An extensive silence broke out. The old man's clever eyes jumped about Kalon as he merely tried to prevent his eyes from meeting the old man's in a strange stare."Kalon, do you know where you are?""No,""I'm surprised, after all, this is the same place your friend Amos saw his last breath, what a shame too, he had so much meat left in him!"At this, Kalon pounced, so furiously with such force, he would surely break stone. The old man, however, using prodigious cunning, dodged Kalon, and lashed his whip.Kalon felt the pain leak on his back, as warm drops of blood flowed."Where are your manners? Sit! Now!"Kalon obediently knelt upon the stony floor. He stared around the enclosed room. It possessed a circular shape, with red brick walls.The sandy floors were carpeted in some areas, with large bronze chairs propped around a petite cards table; incenses filled the room with a quiet smoke."Now then, Kalon, do you know where you are?""The...arena?""Why do you ask in your answer?""Because I am not...sure,""Yes, Kalon, you're in the arena! Of course you are! This is where all traitors, all bandits, all prisoners come. Their sinful nature shall bring them the penalties of quenching the citizens' eye for blood shed and savagery. You, the nobleman, the thief, the servant, the priest, the warrior. All sinners in their own regards and all brought here by their own accords. The Overlord's mighty decision did not plant you here, no, you're here because you chose to fight back at evil! At least, that's what you think, at least, we're evil in your eye.""But, Kalon, why are we evil? Because we're savages? Because we're powerful? What beliefs strike you as an insane vice of malevolent aspect? Please Kalon, illuminate my darkened clouds with your petty rain! What about Qeynos? Those snobbish, ignorant fools! They sit over there, behind their stone walls, looking up with empathy to their Queen's decrees, and yet, emptiness fills them. They know the evil that resides in the hallowed throat of their Queen, but frightened by her oppressive demeanor, they dare not speak out! And yet, they strive to fuel her happiness and oppress our happiness. Doesn't that signify evil!? Answer me Kalon!""Ye--Ye--Yes...""Well then, glad you're listening, for many of you scum would not bother to keep ears open. Now....Kalon, is it true you are a remarkable warrior? I've heard your name spilled by Amos and countless others; your reputation exceeds you. Do you hear that?"The old man held his hand up to his ear, and looked sarcastically into the sky, but there was no sky. Only a rocky ceiling that loomed shadows on the room, only to be reflected by wax candles."It is the cheers of eager citizens, waiting to see their battle. They are waiting for you Kalon, do you not hear them chanting your name?"Kalon listened intently, but was met with a reticence cheer."No, I hear nothing,""Well Kalon, that's because we are in the under belly of Norrath! Leagues under rock and stone and water, but soon, you will se the rays of sun, as you pit yourself in a blood mass for the enjoyment of Freeport. Kalon, do you know why we would have you fight for us to entertain denizens?""No,""Well, quite oddly, they enjoy it. I mean, the way they jump at splattering blood, and cringe at flesh ripping, and cackle at crackling bones. They then think of the Overlord, whom they carry much respect for, and think of him as a great King for allowing them to witness such awesome battles. They obey him, knowing that if he preserves there fights for many an occasion to come, that his rule would seem proper. It is control, Kalon, without fear or domination. We silently coerce them into obeying the Overlord, and you are an accessory to that. Kalon, today you will not clash steel to survive, you will clash it to assist the Overlord--""I would never do that!""Yes you will, Kalon! You will!"The old man perfectly jolted the whip across Kalon's chest, leaving a large gash. Kalon licked his dry lips, and spat at the old man's feet. The old man, angered by Kalon's rudeness, gripped his wrinkled hands on Kalon's neck.He tightened his grip, and whispered to Kalon in a menacing tone."You listen here you sonofabitch, you will fight for us, for me, for the Overlord. If you do, we will set you free, to joyfully skip and gallop the streams of Norrath to your highest desire, but if you refuse, we shall kill you, so gruesomely and without such dignity as to humiliate your corpse and strip you of any pride you so held before death. Such a terrible way for such a revered warrior to die, eh?""Yes,""Good, now, are you ready to fight? Are you a champion?""Yes,""Very well...KRUJ!"The old man freed Kalon's neck, and hollered for the guard. Kruj came hastily and opened the door, panting with all his might."Yes sir?""Prepare our friend, Kalon, for the arena!""Yes sir!"The guard grinned a devilish smirk, and lunged Kalon upon his feet. As they exited the room, the old man chuckled loudly,"Oh, and Kruj, don't forget to prepare yourself too!"The barbarian stopped in his tracks. His disgruntled face turned to the old man, but he slammed the door to his room before he could say anything resentful. Kalon leered at the barbarian, who angrily thrust his fist onto Kalon's chest cut. Kalon fell to the ground with a thunderous roar. They both trailed down the narrow hallway, Kalon clumsily working his tired muscles to walk, the guard grunting and cursing at Kalon, constantly branding his club and throwing random jabs at Kalon's side.They both leaned forward closely. Kalon gazed, completely bewitched by her enlightening eyes. Their hands linked together, as their lips met with passionate force. The birds sang a delightful hymn of their love, and the breeze settled down to a gentle and calming rush. The skies were spoiled a bright blue, and cast fluffy clouds across the horizon, as the blazing sun gleamed it's sunshine joyously on the pond. The tranquil moment overwhelmed Kalon, and his heart beat like a thousand drums. Not even the rush of battle, the fury of war, could match his blood's race through his veins now. They retreated from each other's faces, and grinned adoringly at each other.Kalon's tenacity to reconstruct this moment was wearing thin, as his feet treaded along broken pathways and the maddened barbarian screeched his discomfort out without restraint. Yet, even though Kalon knew the impeding fate that encroached towards him, he edged a quick smile, and could feel a peculiar breeze, a [Removed for Content] touch, and a cheerful memory whirl in his head.

CanineKing

05-07-2009, 12:40 AM

Kalon's hair was brushed repeatedly by dropping rain from the stone clad ceiling. Kalon tirelessly examined his brethren as he passed by their shackled remains; their bodies so broken of spirit, their flesh so pale of shadow. Kalon was rudely stripped down, and given leather pants to compensate for his naked nature.Kalon put them on reluctantly, and obediently stood on the elevator device, waiting to be risen. He caressed his gashes, and conjured distasteful saliva mounds to attempt a quenching of his thirst. It failed miserably. His coarse throat burned with a fiery prose, and it wreaked of a smoking pain. His stomach panged intensely, as he lavished stares at other prisoners. His [Removed for Content] solitude was broken abruptly as the pitiless cries of Kruj echoed through the dungeon halls, and Kalon indulged in a deep breath. Kruj approached, grinning with satisfaction, as he wore hardened chain armor. He mocked Kalon's crude and defenseless pants. One of the guards laid an obsidian crafted blade into Kruj's hand, and he gripped it with robust fingers. Kalon, quite befuddled, patiently awaited his weapon. He received none. The old man materialized himself at the lift, and patted Kalon's shoulder."Alright boys, time to die for the Overlord!"He ordered the lift to rise into the heavens. In the distant corridor, a reptilian voice called out, "Fight for me!" Kruj shook his head. The old man exclaimed to Kalon the prisoner's minds were too muddled to be sane. While they rose sluggishly, the old man whispered in Kalon's direction,"If you win this fight, I will set you free! As simple as that warrior!"The Overlord brutally stroked his curtains to the side, and preceded to his balcony. He sat in his brooding throne, and hushed the chanting citizens."My fellow Freeportians! We are gathered here, in this desolate desert of blood, in this ruthless ocean of strength, to witness the birth of Freeport's power! I give you, the battlers of afar, the crusaders of war, all slashing away at each other to bring you such glorious entertainment! No need to thank them, nor do I say praise be given to me; you should enjoy these fights because you are the citizens of Freeport and you deserve to be enlightened by a show!"The spectators roared with valiant admiration of the Overlord, and then settled down to experience the coming fight. Kalon's eyes were not enraged at the sudden burst of light; his eyes had not yet become so attuned to the darkness he had dwelled in momentarily.Kalon lazily stepped off the platform, and quickly searched the arena for a weapon. The Overlord turn to his new Guard Captain, Val'Tolk. Val'Tolk swiftly swayed his anxious tail black and forth, his ears perched erect, listening to his King. "I see this challenger knows how the arena works, strange...and peculiar.""Yes sir, very strange,"The Kerran knelt beside the Overlord, commanding the servants to bring his King the most delicious treats they carried to enhance the Overlord's viewing.Kalon saw a body strewn across the rocky dirt. He equipped himself a splintered spear, revolved around, and peered at Kruj. Kruj jokingly yelled out at rants at the citizens, who happily answered back with their own cheers. Kruj discharged a feral snarl, and stampeded towards Kalon. Kalon's eyes drowned red with fury, and anger, and his body glowed from his malicious blood, as he thrust the deadly spear with such impossible accuracy as to make a Ranger openly jealous. Thereupon, the crowd's electric screams exploded in a ridiculous volume. Kruj's neck fluttered with constant blood. Even though he flailed about, trying to keep himself alive, he succumbed to his wound, fatally falling over dead. The crowd jeered with pleasure as Kalon peeled his spear free from its caretaker's flesh. The Overlord reluctantly clapped for the new warrior, and then turned to Val'Tolk.

CanineKing

05-16-2009, 08:43 PM

"Val'Tolk, my dearest Val'Tolk, this is a true warrior! His bestiality is unmatched; its astonishing! I want to test his might...you understand? I want to see how far his blood will pump, how far his scars can go, how far his force remains potent...I want you to match a perfect combatant against this warrior. Any suggestions?""No, my dearest Overlord, the Prince of Shadows, and Kisser of....heh...Demons. I would only let someone of your most holiness, your majesty, decide this beggar's fate.""Very well, I shall decide! Hmm...today the skies are spoiled gray, and I can feel on my brow a gentle breeze, and an opaque sense of moisture in the air. A perfect day for...a griffon? Yes! Bring out my griffon,""Which one sir? You have...heh...so many?"Val'Tolk crudely muddled his paws together on the stone seat of the Overlord's throne. Lucan threw his hand to his bony cheek in deep thought, as he reflected on his options of beasts in which to unleash on the warrior. His mind traveled to the deepest abysses of thought, as he had much to consider in his decision. He possessed merely hundreds of griffons, thus, the choice would be difficult to receive. Finally, however, the Overlord's eyes strayed from the blankness of the nihilistic space in which he once gazed at, and turned to Val'Tolk."Bring out...Featherhorn. She will put on quite the show! Fetch her for me, quickly!""Yes...heh...yes my Lord,"Val'Tolk hurried back into the corridors and into the Overlord's chambers. He heatedly ordered one of the guards to deliver the orders to the Keeper of the Beasts. He nodded and ran. Val'Tolk then returned to his master's side, to accompany him in the intermission.Kalon spat out some dry saliva. It was a diminutive glob of moisture, as the exhaustion of his throat caused such distress in his saliva. He thirsted hungrily. Kalon kept a tight grip on the blood painted spear, and looked up into the sky. Dark, black clouds had gathered to watch the event overhead, and promised a downpour. Kalon almost cracked a smile to the much welcomed moisture, but the crowd's cheering elevated suddenly; he knew another fight was erupting soon.Large, desperate squawks splattered the arena, as guards quarreled with a furious griffon. In frigid chains and shackles, the once glorious beast was depressed to a featherless, naked being of hideous monstrosity. Her wings were no where to be seen, and deep, red scars mounted the spot where they would have conjoined. All she had, was claws; claws as sharp as night, and as brisk as wind. Her beak was golden brown, and swung viciously through the air.The guards poked spears and tridents to control the beast, and, at the Overlord's command, left the beast to rot in the arena by itself. They unlatched the chains and ran in a frantic manor to the gates, locking Kalon in the pit with a thrashing animal. The Overlord rose to spoke, and the crowd silenced, although the beast continued her innate screeching that experience had made so perfect; preferably so wretched."Citizens of Freeport! This man has slain one of my finest fighters, and he has proven himself worthy of my recognition! Now, he must face the bestiality of true nature! He will wrestle with creation's face and mould. A true man, he is, a true beast, she is, a true fight, this is! Citizens, do not worry yourselves so hastily! You will not be disappointed, please, please...enjoy!"And at that Kalon spat out one more drop of saliva, and the sky's pleasant moisture sprinkled Norrath. Thunder crashed and lightning exploded. The griffon snarled menacingly, and displayed her strength by portraying herself on her hind legs, wheeling her claws in the air. Kalon swiftly situated his spear, and solidified his stance in the dirt. The griffon clumsily ran at Kalon, squawking and quacking her heart to a bloody pulp. Her naked body was crucified by bruise and scars, that busted with pus and gore as she sprinted. Kalon shoved his lance into the griffon's chest as she neared. The griffon's terrible screams of agonizing pain shot bullets in Kalon's ears. His hands fell form the spear, and the griffon struck with a nasty slash of claws. Kalon fell to the mud driveled ground. His chest bled rapidly with three huge gashes, and he whimpered slightly. The Overlord laughed, while Val'Tolk provided a phony, but respectable, chuckle with him.Kalon rose slowly, his left hand bearing the indecent pleasure of trying to hinder his blood flow from seeping out. The griffon fiddled with the implanted spear, and once it was free of the accursed weapon, went to finish off its prey. Kalon dodged the first few strikes, dancing around the arena. But the griffon, whether by intentional or accidental means, prevented Kalon from reaching the spear. Kalon circled, dodging strikes here and there, a few times around the griffon. Eventually, the beast adapted to the strategy, and flinched his claws towards Kalon, while honestly swiping in the direction Kalon dodged. Only one talon met Kalon's flesh, but it tore through it brutally and painfully. Kalon yelped in pain. He yielded away from the griffon, and panted heavily."You damned sonofabitch..."Kalon snared his left hand to his wounds, although they were too large for his single man hand to cover, and used a few false impulses and steps, attempting to trick the griffon. He grasped an average sized rock, and propelled it at the griffons left eye. The griffon barked in pain, and waltzed around the arena hurdling out cries of wrath as it blindly swept at everything and nothing. Kalon dashed in, rolled, and grabbed the spear."Now, to finish this, you damned creature,"Kalon affixed his position to the required stance, and prepared to throw the spear. But, as he saw the wounded creature prance around, naked, in pain, and agony, he paused. Kalon, the warrior of many ages and the murderer of many, paused. The crowd gasped for a brief moment, and began to hiss violently. Kalon stood motionless in the rain, holding the spear up, paused. He examined the poor creature.She probably had a family...and kin. And young ones, to nurture...she was locked up, skinned practically...she was chained, and forced to experience such pain...she is a victim...I am killing her...when she deserves to live...but live in this? No...I wouldn't allow such a travesty. I need to kill her. Now, do it....do it...DO IT! Kalon charged at the creature, and plunged the spear into the griffon's head. Chunks of blood spurted out, and bits of brain and other tissue damaged the dusty soil. The crowd's hysteria was unbearable. The Overlord clapped a false congratulations, as his disgusted smile infiltrated his face. Kalon fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked at the mutilated beast. Then, an image appeared. It was her. Kalon saw her, her beautiful hair, her gorgeous eyes, and silky skin, drenched in blood. Lying on a muddied ground, brains splintered by a spear, eyes gazing out, still open, into Kalon's face. Her mouth hanging open, with rivers of blood gently pushing themselves out. Kalon saw her. Kalon placed his hand on the griffons neck, and carefully caressed it. More or so, he placed his hand on her neck, and caressed it. Kalon's eyes watered, and the tears fell with the rain in pristine syndication. Kalon thought about rosy cheeks and red dresses, waving in the breeze. Scenic plateaus, encased in green trees, and colorful flowers of all types. The daisies, the roses, the bouquet of nature wrapped around gaping valleys. And her, lying on the comfortable patches of flat ground, resting her tired legs, staring up into the white skies with blue clouds.Oh yes, the exquisite skies of Norrath, surrounding our war torn world with a pleasant view. Whether you reside in the scented landscapes of Faydark, or the placid spires of Neriak, the skies were always there. Whether they were white, or blue, or black, or green, with clouds of pink, or purple, or orange. The skies were still there, smiling down upon us, hoping we'd wave back. And so there she was, gazing in wonder and astonishment at our friends above us. And Kalon, laying beside her, glancing at her wondrous face, imagining how the Gods crafted such an attractive and angelic being. And then his hand, strong and robust, grasping her throat, tightening the grip. Her smile vanishing; her skin transforming into a bluish hue. Her arms floundering around insanely, while Kalon's hand only gripped tighter. And then, she stopped. Her face soured by paleness, and her gaze, now doll like.Kalon shuddered. The rain picked up its pace, and soon mass ponds of liquid formed on the arena. The patrons were escorted out to return to their lowly jobs of working this ruined city. Guards, along with the old man, approached Kalon with shackles. Kalon still glowered at the dead griffon. The old man crouched down."Kalon, you did a fine job. It is time to return to your prison, at least for now, for soon you will be released, how does that sound Kalon?"No answer."Listen, boy, you did an excellent job. The Overlord is very proud of you. As I promised, you can now be set free! Come on, let us leave this horrid place of bloodshed and war. Isn't that what you want Kalon? Isn't it?"No answer."Pity Kalon, that you would risk such high stakes to attain something, and then shove it away without cause. I may never understand men like you Kalon, but nonetheless, I do understand that some people need second chances. I am going to politely ask you one more time Kalon. Do you want your freedom?""Yes...yes, I do,""Good, finally, you can speak! What a joyous day! This occasion deserves to be shared with the whole [Removed for Content] world! You know that Kalon? Do you really know that?"The old man swiped a jab at Kalon's cheek. He fell over, and wiped the blood from his lip, his gaze now reconfigured on the old man."You really think it is that easy? That I am just going to let you leave this place after two fights? After what you have done! Disobeying the Overlord is treasonous and the punishment is severe. Do not worry, Kalon, you will not spend any more time in this godforsaken place. You will be transported to a new prison, out on the high seas. With some pirates or something, I do not recall much, it was not all that important. You see Kalon, you're not special. No. You are just some other inmate. Some other prisoner. Some other thief, [Removed for Content], murderer, traitor, conspirator, rogue, man. There are more beings in this world than you, Kalon. Why do you think you would be so special? That I would just let you gone, be free! You are a fool if you ever believed me. Now Kalon, I have urging matters to protest to, so, you will be left with these guards, and escorted to your new home. I hope you enjoy it Kalon. I hope you enjoy living in a hell hole for the rest of your [Removed for Content] life. Actually, I do not hope. I pray. I pray all night and day that people like you get punished, and do you know why Kalon?"No answer."Well, if you really must know, it is because I am irrelevant. I do not understand why we punish people like you. As far as I am concerned, your crime was a measly little trouble with the Overlord's control. Nothing more. I mean, it is not like you killed anyone, as far was we know, or stole anything, as far as we know, or done really anything that warrants such punishment. But the Overlord demands absolute power, and if you are going to disrespect that, you will suffer. For no reason at all. Strange, how Norrath functions, but is all truth. I could not care any less or more if you were some glorious fighter in your day, in your home. Here, you are scum and dirt, and I am going to have to clean you up, so this city is fresh and clean! So, enjoy your new home Kalon, and I pray we never meet again, because I really would not care if our reunion occurred. Farwell Kalon, you do not realize how many times I have said this to how many people. It is almost scripted in my mind, like a habit I just cannot forget. Farewell....Kalon"Kalon was locked up in wet chains, and carried away. As he left, one last tear dropped off his cheek, and splashed into the puddles of rain. And then he thought of her, in a field somewhere, lying dead. And he whispered to himself in a sullen pity,"No..."----------------------------------------------------------------I hope for all of you who have actually been reading my story it is very satisfactory for you and you enjoy it! If you want to comment on it, please do! I appreciate the constructive criticism and friendly praise or just any ol' comment. <img src="/eq2/images/smilies/283a16da79f3aa23fe1025c96295f04f.gif" border="0" />

CanineKing

05-17-2009, 10:18 PM

The tender breeze brushed past Kalon's cheeks. His weary eyes argued with exhaustion, and danced open and closed in an orchestrated perfection. He toddled along bitter stones with lashes of burning whip flaming across his backside. The unwelcoming glances of greedy pirates thundered across the harbor."Pick up the pace you! We ain't gots all day!"Casually leaning against the drenched wall of the pub was a short, slender man, with a coal black moustache and slither-like goatee. His hair was long and surly, and shone silver in its wet blanket. He grinned his placid teeth of yellowish joy as Kalon was dragged towards him."Sorry to keep ya waitin, cap'tn! This ol' basterd is just too [Removed for Content] tired I suppose,"A quick, soft, but crisp, kick imploded on Kalon's side."Yes, yes, yes, quite well though! He's here now, isn't he? Now, be gone you damned filthy Ogres, go waddle in slime or whatever filth you do to pass your stinking life. Be gone!"The Captain waved his jewel decorated hand. The Ogres, displeased by the nasty comments, went away grunting obnoxiously. Two roguish pirates dressed in rugged cloth and jewelry latched their sweaty palms onto Kalon. He was lifted up to eye level with the Captain."Greetings, fair Kalon, I presume?""Yes, I am...Kalon,""Great, great, great, well now, I am Captain Smokey, and if you find that amusing you will find my ship a sore measured experience. I am very humble, kind, generous, and forgiving. But do not expect easy pleasures, no sir, quite the opposite. I will expect you to not rumble with any other inmates, and be a good little boy now, so that we have no trouble while sailing on the isolated waves. I will provide you with one meal each day; it should sustain you enough. Nourishment is a luxury for patrons and patriots, and those who obey the doctrine or the Overlord. You won't see much of me, Kalon, for I am a busy man, giving orders and all, so do not become accustomed to our chats. Actually, this moment should be highly treasured by you, it is, after all, a rare occasion. You will show manners to all, regardless of their actions, because I would hope a bad man like you would show some respect in your reform. Do you understand all this Kalon, or shall I fetch scholar?""Yes, I understand."Kalon felt degraded being governed by a man who was younger than he was. It gave a sense of inferiority, that Kalon incredibly resented."OK boys, take him on board, we must me taking a hasty leave, Taboo is expecting us in four days time."The two thugs nodded, and boarded Kalon onto the ship. Kalon was surprised to find a ship run by such scoundrels as these to be so sanitary. The ships' wood wavered with a fresh scent as if it was just hauled in from the forests yesterday. The crew worked by playing pointless card games and passing around mundane jokes. Kalon also noted the size of the ship. It was titanic, with three whole levels, not including the bottom jail cells in the cellar of the boat. It was painted black with golden outlines and white figures. The sails were blowing wildly in the gasping wind. Kalon was lowered into a dark and stench infested room. Splitting the room in half were sturdy iron gates. Several prisoners got up to welcome their new inmate, shouting hysterically and waving their animalistic hands in all directions.Standing in front of the gate door was a marvelous young woman dressed in a dark gray tunic with rounded shoulder pads and armored pants. On her left hip was a coiled, maddened whip. On her right hip was a rough leather holster, concealing a steel rapier. Her face was a pale white with focused, blue eyes peering at Kalon. She was slim, tall, with handsomely sculpted legs. She placed her hand one Kalon's shoulder and opened the gate door. Kalon, with a bare torso, could feel the warmth and softness of her delicate hands. Her pleasant, but harshly demanding, voice was spoken with great force, coupled with splendid tunes of harmonious notes. This strange combination balanced out in a strangely curious voice that Kalon shivered at.Captain Smokey introduced her with his raspy, rapid voice."This is the prison warden, and your new caretaker, Sofia, the viscous and agile daughter of the once renowned Amos, a long and forgotten hero. As a matter of fact, he died not too long ago. Have you heard of him, Kalon?"Kalon's reality was bended to the ultimate limits and his bruised jaw hung open. He stuttered several sounds before finally speaking."Ye....No,"Sofia shrugged her shoulders and motioned Kalon into the prison."Yes, yes, yes, well anyhow, if you have any questions, or complaints, please direct them to Sofia, please. According to my information, you will remain with us for two years. I am honestly looking forward to it Kalon, as long as you behave like a sensible man, now. Enjoy your stay Kalon, and don't hesitate to make friends! Some of my prisoners are actually very friendly,"Captain Smokey departed. Kalon shuffled his way to a bench, and sat down beside a yellow Kerra covered in countless scars; cracking his knuckles as he ignored Kalon's presence. Sofia spoke,"Hey, Kalon, I don't want any trouble, OK? I am not afraid to shed a little pain if you get decide to start something, understand?"Kalon nodded."Good,"She departed as well, but her shadow remained, hinting at her presence above the stairs.A nervous looking gnome waddled over and hopped up beside Kalon, holding out his hand in a polite manner."Heya, err, I'm, uh, Ragers, no, darnit, Rogers, that's right! I'm Rogers,""Nice to meet you, I'm Kalon.""So I, umm, heard. Hehe, yes. So, uh, why are you here, exactly?"It seemed as if Rogers panted after every pause in his speech, Kalon noticed."I did nothing, that is why I am here.""Oh, hehe, a joker, eh? Right, err, right, I'm OK with that, hehe. Umm, oh yes! This is, uh, Jacques."The gnome pointed his shaking finger towards the Kerra, who, without turning his frozen head, replied."Hello, Kalon.""Hello,""Right, yes, uh, well, umm, I hope we can, become, like acquaintances? I'm a, pretty good at fending off, these a, err, these thugs. Hehe, I know how to put em up!""Thanks, Rogers.""Don't, a, mention it at all!""Say, you know everyone here, right?"Kalon injected shame into himself as he asked such a stupid question."Yep, I am, as you say, uh, quite the social butterfly, hehe.""So, would you mind giving me a little introduction to my fellow mates?""Oh! Not at all, a, hehe, yes, well. That, uh, big guy over there, with the shaved head, and umm, beard, his name is Maple. He's a, in here for murder of two, uh, guards. That guy over there, right, err, left of him, is uhh, ol' Saw. He's a nasty little lizard that one, uh, always sharpening his a claws, and what not. Anyway, he's a, in here for slaughtering a whole inn of people. That's right, going into each room, and gutting em, likes they were, uh, fish or something. Over there, on that bench , that fellow with the long, red hair, and uh, the red eyes, yes, those red eyes. Creepy, ain't they? Anyway, yeah, he's umm, in here for a theft. He stole a few shiny copper pieces from some ol' hag. Right next to him, hehe, is ol' Dagger. That little rat is always the nest of all trouble in, uh, this place. He's, uh, in here for theft too, cept his was a helluva lot more serious, hehe. Stole all the coins from the West Freeport bank, hehe, the little rat. He didn't get away though, obviously! That guy over there, mean looking, dark skinned feller, with the bone spikes on his head and shoulders, he's a, some bruiser, monk or something, from up some island that nobody's ever, uh, seen. He's here, because of what he, uh did, of course. He did some nasty things boy, I'll tellya. He did some, a, nasty, nasty little things..."Jacques interrupted suddenly, catching Kalon off guard."That man is evil. He is the whole definition of evil. He has done the work of demons. He has plastered this whole world in a terrifying blood bath. The things he has committed, are inexcusable, grotesque, and disgusting. I am ashamed to be in the same room as such a creature; spat out by a demon lord himself most likely."This time, Jacques actually rotated his head to glimpse at Kalon."What did he do exactly?""He killed many people. His first victim, was a little girl. She was so young, maybe of twelve years? She was balancing herself on some old rails down in West Freeport, trying to have a fun time. But her joy was cut short. That man, Shade, seduced her into following him into the outskirts of the Freeport gates. He beat her, with his own hands, till she was bloody puddle of messy flesh. She didn't scream. He jabbed her throat first. They said he then threw her to the ground, stripped her naked, and kicked, his stiff feet like stones. Then, when she was injured severely, he bent down, whipped out his knuckles. He hammered his fist down, right on her head, so many times. When they found her, they just fed her to the hyenas for a quick breakfast. There was no face left anyway. The basterd,"Kalon gulped, as a swelled wart of rage boiled deep inside him."His next victim was an old man. He would wander the streets begging for a bit of coin. And then Shade appears, pushes the old man over. Shade then pulls out a sharpened bone, coincidentally a weapon he fashioned from the bones of the little girl. He stabbed the knee cap first. Then, with the dull sharpness of his blade, cut the old man's hand off. The old man screamed, but his age prevented him from hollers reaching the ears of anyone who'd help. Then, a stab to the throat, and that was the end of that."Jacques began to tremble quietly. "And then...his third victim."Tears began to show on his furry cheeks."The damned Shade, went right into a rackety, broken house. In it, was a young woman, maybe as old as...Sofia? Yeah, bout that age. And he went in there, and knocked her cold. Then he, then he,"Jacques began trembling uncontrollably."He took his insane hand, he did, and he, put it, he, slashed her face, then he threw her on a bench, and, he...did something very bad. He did something very bad..."The gnome comforted Jacques, patting him on the back, and Kalon glanced at Shade with unrealities anger and fury.The ship rocked swiftly in the rushing waves, as Kalon lay sorely on the flat floor. No one allowed him a bench to enjoy. He was amusingly perplexed by Sofia.Amos's daughter? It must be another Amos...it has to be. How can that, be possible? It just...doesn't fit together. Amos, how? Poor Amos...knowing your daughter is the servant of evil now. And Shade, to share a room, with a man like that? His face was so ghastly, his stare so malevolent, I want to be sick, Amos. And this goddamned rocking isn't helping either! This is not the life I envisioned for myself...this is not, what I wanted. And her...she did not deserve anything. She did not deserve anything. Now, she is dead, and it is all my fault. Damnit! Amos, how did you keep so strong? How did you keep so pure? I wish, you were still alive friend, I wish it so..."The foggy remain of battle are a sad site, eh Kalon?""Aye, Amos, aye. I was beginning to like these poor orcs too.""Aye, Kalon, you sure do not hesitate in making witty remarks, even though they can be childish."They both chuckled happily, as they drank cold ale, legs rested on top of orc bodies, peering out on the conquered temple of Deathfyst. Temere approached ecstatically, carrying with him luxurious golden bracelets and silver rings."Indulging in the spoils of war, eh good brother?""HAHA, yesss, Amoss, I am indulging blisssfully. Quite the sspoilssss, to indulge in, hehe."Yes, I remember those days...Kalon awkwardly opened his eyes, and stretched his sight to his captive room. Shade was awake, blazing his pupils at the gate door, clanging together his bony knuckles. He was a powerful figure, with well built arms and legs, and massive shoulders. Bone spikes extruded from his shoulders, and head, and spine. He retracted bone spiked knuckles in and out to amuse himself. Kalon closed his eyes in disgust, and rolled about trying to subtlety tire himself, hoping the result would be sleep. But, alas, the dreams Kalon normally would undergo were modified. Kalon did not dream of her, or of great, old battles. Instead he dreamt of Sofia, a subject that escaped all logic in his mind. He tried to rationalize her existence calmly, but his fleeting mind altered him into exhaustion. So, he decided to think of nothing. And so, as he thought of nothing, he curiously fell asleep.<hr />

CanineKing

06-10-2009, 10:59 PM

<hr />Gleams of bright rays crawled into the lower deck. The cracked door only allowed minor peaks of sun to shine through on the misshapen prisoners. Kalon awoke to rambunctious chattering and sore bones. A fresh scent of disgust, mixed with bits of urine, wafted through the room steeply. The inmates had assembled a quiet game of cards, excluding Shade of course, and the red haired thief, whom Kalon gathered was named Flame. He never spoke, only communicating occasionally with simple hand gestures to ol‘ Dagger, who seemed to be his only companion. Rogers noticed Kalon's awakening, and beckoned him over to join. Maple and Saw greeted Kalon warmly, while Dagger stubbornly spat to prove his distaste with another player, for it demonstrated a higher chance of losing for the rat. They played a quaint game of an attractive cards that had been played for generations. They tossed in a few nuts and scraps of rations that they had preserved for the occasion. Rogers talked rapidly, exhibiting his chatter mouth demeanor."Ok, so, uh, right! Where was I? Oh, uh, ya, right! Anyway, I was waling down this alleyway, right, a, and well, I see this guy, big and hairy guy, I think umm, maybe a barbarian, right? Yeah, and so I try to walk by, ya know, mindin' my own business and all, and uhh, this guy, right, tries to beat me up. So I pull a dagger on the poor basterd, and then I get thrown in here! What, uhh luck, right boys?"Conversation shifted between patrons, however Kalon and Jacques chose to remain silent. Maple was discovered to be a gentle giant, and a very great philosopher, dictating his opinions of government, law, order, and general conventions in an incredibly sophisticated manner. Kalon was bewildered to find such lawless men possess such capacities of logical reason and intellect. Saw, not as erudite when it came to certain affairs, but his natural, uncanny ability to describe the architecture of particular contraptions and of the boat itself was impressive. Dagger also proved his might with the fact he was as swift and speedy as an assassin. He could switch around cards and pickpocket bread crumbs in such stealthy fashion, and so quickly, it was inhuman, or rather, unratlike.The eccentric group of banished flesh carried on with their poignant game of cards. The damp humidity of the cell aroused Kalon's nostrils, as he discovered himself sneezing deeply on many occasions.Kalon guessed it was noon, as the shadows of the compact, barred openings indicated the sun's immediate position in the sky; the sun was located in the center of the sky. Kalon's stomach grumbled heartily, and Sofia solved that particular problem. She, along with one other buccaneer, brought down rusted plates of sloppy food. Each meal identified with each other, the likeness fully evitable. Kalon thanked Sofia with a smile, but her reaction was placid. Kalon sat down on the same bench as the day before, and began fingering the supposedly edible slop. Rogers nudged Kalon's arm slightly."Eh, don't a feel sour, ol' Sofia never smiles, to, uh, anyone, at a all. She ain't exactly a pleasant peach, hell, a, I've seen some sharks with some of the biggest ol' set of pearly fangs, eva, and ain't none of em' as sharp and cruel as ol' Sofia. No sir, none at all,""Huh, I wonder what caused her attitude? Did I not hear that her father..."Kalon paused eerily, a cold sweat dripping on the tip of his nose, but he mustered the strength to continue, dismissing the anxiety quickly."Umm, sorry, I mean, didn't Amos, die? Not too long ago?""Well, a, yeah, yeah, yeah! But a, she's always been bitter, me chap, even before all that, uh, yeah. She is such a young face, and yet so bitter, like she is ahead of her years, eh friend?""Yes, I suppose,"Kalon gazed as Sofia treaded up the steps again, leaving behind only her watchful shadow. Kalon disposed of his meal painfully, but settled for its nutrients, regardless of whether it may provide a chance of sickness or just flat out disgust. His stomach pangs succumbed to defeat, and vanished serenely. He sat back, resting his tired bones and muscles. He patted his beard, and pulled a strap of white hair. He played with the wrinkles growing on his arms, and sighed heavily. His tired eyes clambered to shut, as his lashes pushed crusty dust out of the pathway. Dreams flooded into his vision, as he napped quietly."Kalon, travel here, now boy, I want to introduce you to someone."Amos's hands beckoned Kalon forth. Kalon placed down his ale and traversed his way through the maze of people. The festival rallied with satisfaction as happy civilians flocked to each booth seeking their cheap riches and quirks. Kalon found his way to Amos's residence, and welcomed warmly the opportunity to shake hands with a fresh face. But Kalon was surprised to find the clay molded face, of a woman. She was human, evidently and obviously, with such a mastered face. Her skin was a dark white, with long brown hair that flowed around her shoulders and onto her breasts. Her eyes glittered with an ominous glow that aroused Kalon's senses. Her plump lips were bright red, like blood, and her eye lashes were a broad black..."Good sir, please excuse me, but do you have anything for me to own? Oh dear, good sir, you seem tired? Are you sad about something, something dreadful, something that carries much guilt?"The raspy voice echoed in Kalon's ear canals, haunting his sore bones. It was a runic language, with much embedded eeriness, and ominous command. Kalon turned his head to meet Flame's pale face. It burned with the illuminated whiteness of a phantom, with black pupils to compliment the creepy exterior that portrayed Flame. His red hair faded slightly, giving it a rustic appearance. Kalon politely gestured he did not understand Flame's tongue. Flame's open mouth spoke again, however, completely ignoring the desperate attempts to signal the strange being to fend off."Foray your good intentions, sir, do you sad face you wear? For good purposes no doubt? Run, kill me, now. The shadows of darkness croak ever suddenly to deplete my bravery. Kill me, now!"Kalon stood up, agitated by the chilling, breathing corpse that disturbed his atmosphere."Dagger, tell your, friend, to leave me be,""Sorry, ols Kally, cant's doos that boss, cants doos that's,"Kalon grumbled, but Flame fell over, blood dripping out of his mouth. Dagger heard the thud, and whimpered solemnly. By the time Kalon's rough hands caressed Flame's neck vein, the entire cell came to a harmony about what had occurred. They each chose their turns to inspect the corpse, each coming to the discord of his fate. After several moments of silence, Kalon stumbled over to the gate, and called for Sofia.

CanineKing

06-29-2009, 11:33 PM

Sofia bitterly scowled and hastily opened the gate. Followed by two buccaneers, she entered the cell and neared the deceased corpse. Her albino palms felt the cold veins on Flame’s neck, and she frustratingly shook her head. She sent a snap to her two acquaintances and they hauled the body sloppily up the steps to be dumped over board and sink to the quiet, solemn depths of the sea, where water would erode the forsaken soul. Sofia’s eyes gazed intensely at all the inmates.“So, which one of you fools killed him? Which one of you scum did it? Do not look at me with innocence; you’re all dirty criminals, so, which one of you killed him? Speak up! Unless you want me to take away certain privileges? Like meals? Would you like me to take away meals?”The prisoners all stared vacantly at the floorboards. Shade, smirking peevishly, called for Sofia’s heated attention. Kalon’s bones imploded with chills as Shade’s innocent and deceptive voice directed its waves to Sofia.“Well, grand Sofia, the warden of us criminals, if I may conjecture, I would like to include that Kalon, was in fact, the last soul to speak with Flame, so perhaps, in all equality, would it not seem natural to assume he was and is the only suspect to accuse?” Kalon’s temper unraveled and unleashed some furious facial expressions. Kalon was outraged to be accused of murder by a murderer of such magnitude and disgrace, it disgusted his core mind. Kalon rose to his feet, and bowed to Sofia, whose hands became comfortable with the hilt of the whip.“Ah, the new man? Kalon? I suppose someone quiet like you would of course be a cold murderer,”“To beg for a say, I was the last to speak with him. But that does not entitle me to be suddenly guilty? Wouldn’t you say, Sofia? Amos’s daughter should be full of integrity and reason?”Sofia’s temper was far worse than Kalon’s. She boiled heavenly, and at the mere sound of her father’s name she sent a rushing kick at Kalon’s ribs. Kalon, embraced himself for the attack, expecting a reaction from her. However, he found himself fooled by his less than zealous judgment, for the kick was strong, and the pain was bitterly realistic and rough. She kicked like a man. No, more than a man. An Ogre. Her splitting tone was shocking, frightening, and overwhelming. She did not hesitate to express her strength and vigilance, similar to that of her father. Kalon knew he could not succeed in a fight against Amos.Captain Smokey stomped down the wooden steps hastily, his astonished eyes mitigated by his eagerness to dispose the inmates. He expected eventually, the inevitable death of one of them, was to plague his ship. It had occurred on numerous occasions before, almost becoming a mandatory section of his duties. By mingling together viscous, brutal, and insane criminals it only seemed natural they would tear at each other. And so, in the procedural manner, Smokey commanded the prisoners line up against the wall, all blades glaring at the accused. Smokey whispered gently into Sofia’s ears, and she informally threw the tip of her finger at Kalon. Smokey walked up to Kalon, their faces intertwined by guilt and deception. Smokey’s ale tasting breath splattered warmly in Kalon’s damp face. “So, Kalon, is it true then, that you killed Flame?”Kalon preceded swiftly, taking only a second’s glance at the smirking Shade, and replied.“No, sir,”“Hmm, very well, Kalon, very well. You say that with such a solid affirmation and expressionless vitality, I would only assume you were telling the truth. Rogers, what did you see?”Smokey trailed suddenly to the nervous gnome. Rogers glowered his peers, stuttering slightly.“Yes, well, a, no, no, no, well I saw like, not much, sir, not much at, uh, all, right, see, we were all ya know, playin’ cards and all, uh, yeah, and well, I only see Kalon, sitting on that, uh, yeah, bench over, a, there, yeah, and umm, well, ya see, Flame went over there, and well, yeah, the next second, uh, he just, like, uh, drop-drop-dropped dead, ya, I don’t think it was Kalon’s fault at all, no sir, Kalon is a good soul, uh, ya see sir-”“Thank you Rogers, you must not sweat so anxiously. You are not the one being accused here,”A sharp glance was lashed at Kalon abruptly. Smokey then waltzed over to Jacques. The Kerra’s face was stone, and his stance was undetectable. “Jacques; the morally righteous Jacques. You supposedly are in here for an abomination of a trial, and a innocent crime. You always labor expediently, and your honesty and kindness never goes unnoticed. So, therefore, I think it would be highly probable to assume you are the only one out of these basterds who will tell me the truth about what you witnessed, correct? Am I correct, Jacques?”“Yes, sir,”“Well then, do not let me interrupt your memory, please, tell me what you saw,”Jacques’s eyes blinked, and he swallowed his throat severely. “Yes, sir, Kalon did not kill Flame,”“Prisoner I asked you what you saw, not whether or not you believe in Kalon’s innocence. Please stay on topic with me,”“Yes, sorry sir, ahem, Kalon was sitting over there, minding his own business, whilst the rest of us played cards. And Flame, the cryptic spook he was, merely sat down beside him and began speaking in his language, which none of us really know. Its his behavior, so we expected nothing really, surprising to happen. I looked over there for a moment, and I saw Kalon calling to Dagger, asking him if he can tell Flame to leave him be, and then Flame just fell over. Kalon did not lay a hand on that spook. Not at all, sir, I promise,”“Hmm, well, thank you Jacques. It appears all of us are at a consensus that Kalon is not guilty, and whatever wild that accusation was we can dismiss it. None of you will be punished for this sudden death, for, let us be quite honest, it was no tragedy. So let us forget about this whole situation, and have us return to our duties and you boys return to cards. Jacques and Maple, get up, it is noon, time for us to work.”Jacques and Maple nodded and left with everyone else. Sofia clenched Kalon’s shoulder tightly.“My eye is on you, warrior,”The sincere air lifted the spirits of the light spirited festival to uncontained limits. The earnest cheers and gallant laughter drifted heavenly across the rolling hills. The festival had reached its climax has brave fighters lined up to pummel each other honorably to be crowned an exotic title. Kalon and Amos found comfortable benches to sit on. Kalon placed his arm around the mysterious woman with whom he had just acquainted himself with a few moments before. Amos tapped Kalon on the back.“Hey, you ought to show these knaves the ropes to a good fight, eh? Come on Kalon, I have witnessed your dueling skills before, you would be quick to be crowned the Antonican King, come on Kalon!”“No, I don’t know, it sounds like too much work,”Then, she spoke.“Ahh, but Kalon, I would love to see you fight, come on, a man is only worth his weight in power.”She mockingly joked with Kalon, and out of good fun he decided to join in. He signed his name on the brown piece of parchment, and sat back down to await his turn. A few fights rolled out, with skinny snobs bashing each other for mere seconds before their whimpering guaranteed their loss. The sport was exhilarating to watch regardless of the under qualified contestants. A few blood droplets drew, but not serious beatings were dealt. Even the gleeful and naïve children climbed atop of ale kegs to see over the heartening crowd to extrude their own support for the fighters. The announcer bounced around the stage with over zealous ecstasy as he enamored the crowd with battle cries and fastened rallies. After the third fight ended, he galloped onto the stage to announce the next two fighters.“Greetings and tidings to you all, once again! I am so excited to see such a glorious turnout! This only proves that Qeynos is alive with its spirit and people! Now, before we get onto the next fight, I would like to introduce the Queen herself, here to enjoy the festivities with her loyal subjects, please, pay respects to Queen Bayle,” Four muscular servants carried a large, jeweled carriage onto the side of the platform, and the Queen revealed herself from behind silk curtains to wave to her followers. The crowd bowed in pious and obvious appreciation, and the Queen curtsied kindly. She took a seat on her mobile throne, and signaled the announcer to continue the festival’s main attraction. “Yes, yes, all of Qeynos is here, to celebrate not only the Qeynosian pride we all share, but our soldier’s noble victory at Zek, where they rushed through rough hardships and toils to overcome evil and oppression. Our next fighters are actually Militia for Qeynos, one of them, on the battlefield of Zek, who rather than be tired out by the fight, only warmed up for some more action. Kalon, will you please step forward!”Kalon stepped onto the stage bowing to the clapping crowd, with some of his buddies yelling some perverse and outrageous jokes his way, making the majority of parents hiss in shock. Kalon was greeted by a hearty Froglok, who handed Kalon gray leather strips to wrap around his hands. “And please, all of Qeynos, welcome our next fighter, who fought in the memorable battle of Zek as well, but he is not weary from his long, loveless nights in foreign lands, oh no, he has only just begun to awake the beast within him. Laddik, will you please step forward!”The same routine ensued for Kalon’s competitor. Kalon examined Laddik expertly, astounded at his lack of physical combustion. Kalon giggled scornfully, every doubtful, worried thought completely absolved in his mind. Laddik was stirred by Kalon’s cockiness, and wrapped his fist wraps angrily, false, weak fury flooding his eyes. The announcer cued the fighters to march to the center of the stage, and bow to each other, and then the Queen. She contemplated engagingly, her informal judgment based upon the fighter’s moves. Kalon knew he had to impress the Queen, and so he figured rather than to beat Laddik into the next Shattering, he would simply allow Laddik a few cheap shots to demonstrate his toughness. They spread out, circling each other around the ring, waiting for the announcer to announce the beginning. Laddik’s eyes ran up and down Kalon’s posture, while Kalon flirting with the girl on the sidelines with curious winks. Amos shook his head grinning. “Ok, gentleman, let’s not get too bloody here, after all, this is a happy affair, and Wed rather not have to clean up dead bodies off the stage. So gentleman, find with dignity and respect, and let us begin! You may now, fight!”Kalon and Laddik paused. Laddik let out a harsh battle cry and charged at Kalon. Kalon raised his fists to defend himself, and let Laddik obtain a few punches. Kalon took the pain with huge strides, and the organic pleasure of the beatings floated through Kalon’s nostrils. The pain, was so good to him, it was so natural, and unflinching. The crowd cheered. Kalon threw a quick jab every one in awhile to freshen up his style, whilst Laddik pounded with critical anger. The Queen chortled every time Kalon laughed. After a few moments of Laddik’s best, Kalon unleashed his punishment. He jerked one powerful uppercut to Laddik’s chin. The bone breaking spectacle was all it took, and Laddik hit the ground hardily. The crowd applauded, and the announcer ran up to the merry Kalon. He chirpily shook the announcer’s hand, and went back to sit beside her. Kalon won his next two matches without true effort, and won the tournament. Amos shrugged, claiming it to be no surprise. “Queen Bayle, and fellow Qeynosians, it is proud that I announce our Antonican King, the winner of this little game, and ruler of this festival, our champion, Kalon!”END of Part 1<hr />Sorry it took so long to add some more, but here you go! I hope anyone who is reading this is enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it! <img src="/eq2/images/smilies/283a16da79f3aa23fe1025c96295f04f.gif" border="0" />

CanineKing

12-22-2009, 03:59 PM

Bump

CanineKing

02-24-2010, 08:32 PM

Bump