Re: Mini-Grand 5102 [Round 2: Shuck Hollow]
07-31-2011, 02:51 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.
Miecz simply stared, hooking back his blades while observing the wave of cyborgs rapidly charging in his direction. A mere person may have run away at the slightest twitch from such indomitable enemies, but he was not a person. He was a monster, a swordmonster to be exact. He could not resist such a challenge in front of him. Determined, Miecz hooked back his secondary and pulled out his primary blade. It was long, balanced, and boy was it sharp.
It was not long before the cyborgs reached him. Just before the crowd engulfed him, threatening to drown him in a sea of beatings and energy shots, Miecz darted away – and attacked. The town's bartender greeted Miecz' fist with his face and slumped on the ground, sputtering feebly. The local doctor awkwardly observed Miecz' primary rip through its shoulder blades before succumbing to the effects of that wound. Periodically one or two civilians convulsed on the spot, shocked at the sudden disappearance of their heads. Miecz continued to swing and shift, a look of grim determination painted across his face.
As the battle dragged on, Miecz realized that perhaps this was not such a good idea. There were simply too many of them, and he could spot reinforcements on the horizon! This time they'd brought the big guns - literally. A giant square of machinery so massive the cyborgs could not properly wield with their strength. His ears filled with humming, his brain filled with uncertainty, Miecz could not help but shuffle a few steps backward.
The cyborgs noticed his hesitation and replied by firing a brilliant beam of light from the mechanical monolith. Due to strong energized force, the massive beam of light missed the swordmonster by a good five feet, wiping a nearby farm (and people within) out of existence. Even though the building was a good couple of miles away, the swordmonster could feel the heat radiating mercilessly from the location. Miecz was so screwed and he knew it. Then, he heard something.
Smelled the <font color="#933E19">rust. Saw the red. Heard the screams.
Perhaps he was not so screwed after all.</font>
[COLOR="rgb(0, 0, 0)"]
Screaming and bucking, Rome stormed the horizon. Heat of the hateful sun, blazing light, all these whipped across Rome’s mind, goading his pace to quicken, to hasten, to alert the swordmaster. Many-blades shot up the menacing automaton, clattering up the assaulter like the mountains back at home. Leaping across a chasm of foes, many-blades soared, suspended in the aether. Then,
The smell! The smell of metal filled Rome’s senses, every fiber of his being. Metal biting at his sides, one, two, no, four! Vae! Vae mihi! Pain and terror exploded in the six-limbed beast as red dust spilled forth, flowing like the milk and honey of forgotten empires. The Dust Beast struggled to dissolve, yet his attempts were thwarted by pain. How was that be? Screeching piteously to a higher force Rome shook faster and faster, attempting to subjugate the foolish warrior beneath his furious hooves.
It took Miecz four of his blades and some quick wits to stay on the buckling beast. Whenever Rome endeavoured to disperse into dust, it only took a slight tip of a blade to painfully interrupt the dragon-gazelle's escape. Regardless, the swordmonster knew he would eventually lose his hold on the screaming creature. After all, the beast's pain threshold was skyrocketing due to his frenzied state. Miecz shook his head. Why was he full of bad ideas?
![[Image: 5102.png]](https://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy62/hermitcat/5102.png)
Miecz simply stared, hooking back his blades while observing the wave of cyborgs rapidly charging in his direction. A mere person may have run away at the slightest twitch from such indomitable enemies, but he was not a person. He was a monster, a swordmonster to be exact. He could not resist such a challenge in front of him. Determined, Miecz hooked back his secondary and pulled out his primary blade. It was long, balanced, and boy was it sharp.
It was not long before the cyborgs reached him. Just before the crowd engulfed him, threatening to drown him in a sea of beatings and energy shots, Miecz darted away – and attacked. The town's bartender greeted Miecz' fist with his face and slumped on the ground, sputtering feebly. The local doctor awkwardly observed Miecz' primary rip through its shoulder blades before succumbing to the effects of that wound. Periodically one or two civilians convulsed on the spot, shocked at the sudden disappearance of their heads. Miecz continued to swing and shift, a look of grim determination painted across his face.
As the battle dragged on, Miecz realized that perhaps this was not such a good idea. There were simply too many of them, and he could spot reinforcements on the horizon! This time they'd brought the big guns - literally. A giant square of machinery so massive the cyborgs could not properly wield with their strength. His ears filled with humming, his brain filled with uncertainty, Miecz could not help but shuffle a few steps backward.
The cyborgs noticed his hesitation and replied by firing a brilliant beam of light from the mechanical monolith. Due to strong energized force, the massive beam of light missed the swordmonster by a good five feet, wiping a nearby farm (and people within) out of existence. Even though the building was a good couple of miles away, the swordmonster could feel the heat radiating mercilessly from the location. Miecz was so screwed and he knew it. Then, he heard something.
Smelled the <font color="#933E19">rust. Saw the red. Heard the screams.
Perhaps he was not so screwed after all.</font>
[COLOR="rgb(0, 0, 0)"]
***
[/COLOR]Screaming and bucking, Rome stormed the horizon. Heat of the hateful sun, blazing light, all these whipped across Rome’s mind, goading his pace to quicken, to hasten, to alert the swordmaster. Many-blades shot up the menacing automaton, clattering up the assaulter like the mountains back at home. Leaping across a chasm of foes, many-blades soared, suspended in the aether. Then,
The smell! The smell of metal filled Rome’s senses, every fiber of his being. Metal biting at his sides, one, two, no, four! Vae! Vae mihi! Pain and terror exploded in the six-limbed beast as red dust spilled forth, flowing like the milk and honey of forgotten empires. The Dust Beast struggled to dissolve, yet his attempts were thwarted by pain. How was that be? Screeching piteously to a higher force Rome shook faster and faster, attempting to subjugate the foolish warrior beneath his furious hooves.
[COLOR="rgb(0, 0, 0)"]
***[/COLOR]
***[/COLOR]
It took Miecz four of his blades and some quick wits to stay on the buckling beast. Whenever Rome endeavoured to disperse into dust, it only took a slight tip of a blade to painfully interrupt the dragon-gazelle's escape. Regardless, the swordmonster knew he would eventually lose his hold on the screaming creature. After all, the beast's pain threshold was skyrocketing due to his frenzied state. Miecz shook his head. Why was he full of bad ideas?