Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 1: Afterlife]
03-01-2010, 12:14 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.
Diego had turned off his sound detection, and muffled his own ears as he realized what was about to happen. He dove forward, and turned the first corner he could find. In that instant, everyhing shook and a heat wave blasted from the entrance tunnel.
Diego quickly evaluated the chaos of the situation. The entrance had caved in, again, but the area was lit by torches on the wall. He was trapped with a couple others in a cave. This closed enviroment was more or less ideal, and he decided that he'd make the best of it immediately. For a moment, he concentrated, writing out a sequence of sounds in his heads. Then, he released a program into the air, and a booming, somber, ancient voice spoke, for all to hear.
"Greetings, Mortals. I am Sadeh, god of the Afterlife. I've been roused from ages of sleep by a violent shock... You must be the Cultivator's new play things, correct?"
The contestants of the Brawl stopped what they were doing, briefly, and glanced upwards instinctively, looking for a god.
"Yes... Yes, you have the Cultivator's taint on you... Well, Mortals, I have a proposition for you. Find me, free me. The cultivator bested me, and is using me as the core of this little piece of existence. Free me... And I shall escape. I will also take with me the ones who free me... And grant a boon. So find me. My power is limited here, Drained away by the ages... I cannot guide you long. All I can say is that I am deep in this cave..."
The voice faded off as the magic program finished, and Diego breathed out. Still, he wasn't done. He began mumbling to himself, as he went further into the cave.
"This... This is good, right? We can get out this way. " He said to himself, in a hesitant voice.
Diego couldn't sound too confident, and he thought that his face might be readable. Meticulously, he worked himself into character- a person who, while no stranger to death, did not want to kill or be killed. He needed the others to believe the words to be true on their own. Still, he let himself wear a nervous smile, which agreed with not only his persona but also his hidden character. He had invented a god perfectly. Surely, some of them, most of them, would cling to the voice, hold it as their hope... And leaving their backs turned, ears open.
Diego had turned off his sound detection, and muffled his own ears as he realized what was about to happen. He dove forward, and turned the first corner he could find. In that instant, everyhing shook and a heat wave blasted from the entrance tunnel.
Diego quickly evaluated the chaos of the situation. The entrance had caved in, again, but the area was lit by torches on the wall. He was trapped with a couple others in a cave. This closed enviroment was more or less ideal, and he decided that he'd make the best of it immediately. For a moment, he concentrated, writing out a sequence of sounds in his heads. Then, he released a program into the air, and a booming, somber, ancient voice spoke, for all to hear.
"Greetings, Mortals. I am Sadeh, god of the Afterlife. I've been roused from ages of sleep by a violent shock... You must be the Cultivator's new play things, correct?"
The contestants of the Brawl stopped what they were doing, briefly, and glanced upwards instinctively, looking for a god.
"Yes... Yes, you have the Cultivator's taint on you... Well, Mortals, I have a proposition for you. Find me, free me. The cultivator bested me, and is using me as the core of this little piece of existence. Free me... And I shall escape. I will also take with me the ones who free me... And grant a boon. So find me. My power is limited here, Drained away by the ages... I cannot guide you long. All I can say is that I am deep in this cave..."
The voice faded off as the magic program finished, and Diego breathed out. Still, he wasn't done. He began mumbling to himself, as he went further into the cave.
"This... This is good, right? We can get out this way. " He said to himself, in a hesitant voice.
Diego couldn't sound too confident, and he thought that his face might be readable. Meticulously, he worked himself into character- a person who, while no stranger to death, did not want to kill or be killed. He needed the others to believe the words to be true on their own. Still, he let himself wear a nervous smile, which agreed with not only his persona but also his hidden character. He had invented a god perfectly. Surely, some of them, most of them, would cling to the voice, hold it as their hope... And leaving their backs turned, ears open.