Re: Epic Clash Round 1 - Dungeon of the Crimson Fish
02-05-2010, 11:16 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Odinod.
Mr. Nothing got up on his hands and knees. The slab that had taken him here left him laying on the ground, in a shallow pool of cold, muddy water. His teeth chattered, and as he stood, he tried to squeeze out some of the water in his clothes. His attempts didn't do much of anything; he was completely soaked. He crossed his arms and rubbed his shoulders, trying to get warmer.
He looked around. There wasn't really anything of note, other than lots of slowly melting ice and lots of rock. It was strange, though; every time he looked away from the rock formations, it seemed like they changed a bit when he looked back at them. Didn't that man from before say something about the rocks living?
Wait.
That man. He brought me here. Nothing suddenly realized the gravity of his current situation. He was in a strange, melting cave somewhere in the universe; there were seven other people here, who were going to be trying to kill him; and there was a man with a strange attitude and an even stranger manner of dress who could snap his fingers and do whatever he wanted, or so it seemed. This was not good, and not just because he was unable to finish his current reap-oh no.
He pulled a soggy, folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket. Most of the names on his list were legible, thankfully, but he had no way of getting back to where he was. Well...that's not entirely true. He said the winner would get a wish. Anything within his power. And if he's powerful enough to bring me here, out of the blue... Nothing fingered the folded-up scythe hanging from his belt. They're not on my list, but everyone has to die sometime... In his contemplation, he had completely forgotten about the suffocating cold that was encasing him.
"We'll see." If someone decides to attack me, I won't hesitate to defend myself. But for now, I won't throw the first punch. He looked at his weapon. Or cut off the first limb, as the case might be. He stretched his wings; a few thin shards of ice dropped off. I bet doing a little searching around would help dry me. He flapped several times, slowly climbing into the air. Unfortunately, as soon as he hit the halfway point between floor and ceiling, gravity seemed to...switch. Down was up and up was down, and Nothing, caught completely off-guard, didn't have time to adjust. He fell up to the ceiling (or down to the floor, as the case might have been) and just barely managed to dodge a sharp, jutting stalagmite that had just moments before been a stalactite. He landed in another pool of water, making him even colder than before.
He stood, a frown on his face, his body shaking violently. "Someone here better have the means to make some fire." He proceeded to follow the cave's path, watching both floor and ceiling for anyone else. With the gravity in this place being so wonky, he didn't want to get caught off guard.
Mr. Nothing got up on his hands and knees. The slab that had taken him here left him laying on the ground, in a shallow pool of cold, muddy water. His teeth chattered, and as he stood, he tried to squeeze out some of the water in his clothes. His attempts didn't do much of anything; he was completely soaked. He crossed his arms and rubbed his shoulders, trying to get warmer.
He looked around. There wasn't really anything of note, other than lots of slowly melting ice and lots of rock. It was strange, though; every time he looked away from the rock formations, it seemed like they changed a bit when he looked back at them. Didn't that man from before say something about the rocks living?
Wait.
That man. He brought me here. Nothing suddenly realized the gravity of his current situation. He was in a strange, melting cave somewhere in the universe; there were seven other people here, who were going to be trying to kill him; and there was a man with a strange attitude and an even stranger manner of dress who could snap his fingers and do whatever he wanted, or so it seemed. This was not good, and not just because he was unable to finish his current reap-oh no.
He pulled a soggy, folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket. Most of the names on his list were legible, thankfully, but he had no way of getting back to where he was. Well...that's not entirely true. He said the winner would get a wish. Anything within his power. And if he's powerful enough to bring me here, out of the blue... Nothing fingered the folded-up scythe hanging from his belt. They're not on my list, but everyone has to die sometime... In his contemplation, he had completely forgotten about the suffocating cold that was encasing him.
"We'll see." If someone decides to attack me, I won't hesitate to defend myself. But for now, I won't throw the first punch. He looked at his weapon. Or cut off the first limb, as the case might be. He stretched his wings; a few thin shards of ice dropped off. I bet doing a little searching around would help dry me. He flapped several times, slowly climbing into the air. Unfortunately, as soon as he hit the halfway point between floor and ceiling, gravity seemed to...switch. Down was up and up was down, and Nothing, caught completely off-guard, didn't have time to adjust. He fell up to the ceiling (or down to the floor, as the case might have been) and just barely managed to dodge a sharp, jutting stalagmite that had just moments before been a stalactite. He landed in another pool of water, making him even colder than before.
He stood, a frown on his face, his body shaking violently. "Someone here better have the means to make some fire." He proceeded to follow the cave's path, watching both floor and ceiling for anyone else. With the gravity in this place being so wonky, he didn't want to get caught off guard.