Re: Epic Clash Round 2 - The Wax Colosseum
02-24-2010, 05:39 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Babel.
It was the strangest sensation. One word permeated through Emilio's mind - Wyrm. He was deep within the darkness, breathing in the stink of the beast. He smelled the decay of previous defeat; he tasted the open wound of the challenge in front of him. Each step brought him closer. Each pace stretched his attention a little tighter. He was honed in. He was driven. He was deep within the caverns, encased in total darkness.
And then, suddenly, there was light. A jump he had not anticipated. A game explained, as he fought against the natural sensation of disorientation that consumed him. He scanned his new environment. Saw the man who held true power. Lying paralyzed where he was, a lesser man would have felt something akin to helplessness. Emilio did not. He knew the game of death. He was confident enough in his own abilities.
That was why, when the others quickly disappeared into the mist, Emilio simply stayed where he was. Noted the screens made available. The device hung loosely in the palm of his free hand. His eyes traced out the movement in the fog. He closed his eyes. Felt the song stir inside of him. An utter calm went through his body. Every muscle relaxed. He allowed the mist to lead him. He did not simply disappear; he escaped all notice of being recognized. It was as though one had forgotten to even look for him. All at once, a different hunt was on.
The man of wax was relatively easy to find. It was obviously lost, wandering backwards through the mist and cursing at every form it encountered. Emilio watched it with ease, treading lightly behind him. The man he hunted seemed to be unusually nervous. He turned at every sound; crouched low at uncertain intervals – it was clear he was letting the fear of death overwhelm him. Emilio entertained the thought of an open attack, but decided against it. Patience was a virtue that suited him well.
It took awhile for the man to even realize Emilio was so close. There were times when he felt the chill of Emilio's breath on the back of his neck. On such occasions, the man would stand stock still, and then wildly swing behind him. But Emilio was part of the mist now. There would be not hitting him.
“I know you're there!†came the cry, choked through a desperate throat, “Come, then, and face me! Let us make this more than a game of cat and mouse.â€
The wax figure paused, letting his words float emptily into the surrounding vapor. He shook a weapon menacingly into the nothingness. There was no immediate reply. Then, slowly:
“Do you know†Emilio allowed himself to say, “the name of Emilio Nahaz?â€
See the hopeless beg for death, hear the harmless cry
The voice, calm, deadly. Came from nowhere in particular, but nevertheless caused the wax figure to spring in a meaningless direction.
Tears wasted on the knight, he knows your turn to die-
“I can see you, you bloody bastard! I know where you are!â€
Mark in his intentions, sirs, the readiness to kill
“Show yourself! Show something! Show…. Anything!â€
Sacrifice those profoundly weak, those with lesser will.
“I will not be ignored!†The wax figure was screaming now, “I will not allow you to –“
A spinning blade caught him in the shoulder. He flailed his weapon wildly, bellowing at the top of his lungs. He was parried easily and knocked soundly over the head with the hilt of a sword. All at once, he found himself disarmed, and pinned against the floor of the coliseum. He screamed in fear and hopelessness, he allowed himself to wail. Emilio showed no signs of emotion. All Emilio could do was calmly allow the device to touch the wax figure, who squirmed under his steady grasp. The name of Emilio Nahaz slowly morphed into something infinitely more meaningless. All the wax figure could do was weep.
“Hear the name of Emilio,†Emilio said, releasing all pressure from the wax, “and know that he has ended you.â€
He left the man, quivering, clutching the device to his chest. It was a pity, yes, to have so lesser a man enter in competition against his will. But this was a game of death, and Emilio knew that mercy would only hold him down.
It was the strangest sensation. One word permeated through Emilio's mind - Wyrm. He was deep within the darkness, breathing in the stink of the beast. He smelled the decay of previous defeat; he tasted the open wound of the challenge in front of him. Each step brought him closer. Each pace stretched his attention a little tighter. He was honed in. He was driven. He was deep within the caverns, encased in total darkness.
And then, suddenly, there was light. A jump he had not anticipated. A game explained, as he fought against the natural sensation of disorientation that consumed him. He scanned his new environment. Saw the man who held true power. Lying paralyzed where he was, a lesser man would have felt something akin to helplessness. Emilio did not. He knew the game of death. He was confident enough in his own abilities.
That was why, when the others quickly disappeared into the mist, Emilio simply stayed where he was. Noted the screens made available. The device hung loosely in the palm of his free hand. His eyes traced out the movement in the fog. He closed his eyes. Felt the song stir inside of him. An utter calm went through his body. Every muscle relaxed. He allowed the mist to lead him. He did not simply disappear; he escaped all notice of being recognized. It was as though one had forgotten to even look for him. All at once, a different hunt was on.
The man of wax was relatively easy to find. It was obviously lost, wandering backwards through the mist and cursing at every form it encountered. Emilio watched it with ease, treading lightly behind him. The man he hunted seemed to be unusually nervous. He turned at every sound; crouched low at uncertain intervals – it was clear he was letting the fear of death overwhelm him. Emilio entertained the thought of an open attack, but decided against it. Patience was a virtue that suited him well.
It took awhile for the man to even realize Emilio was so close. There were times when he felt the chill of Emilio's breath on the back of his neck. On such occasions, the man would stand stock still, and then wildly swing behind him. But Emilio was part of the mist now. There would be not hitting him.
“I know you're there!†came the cry, choked through a desperate throat, “Come, then, and face me! Let us make this more than a game of cat and mouse.â€
The wax figure paused, letting his words float emptily into the surrounding vapor. He shook a weapon menacingly into the nothingness. There was no immediate reply. Then, slowly:
“Do you know†Emilio allowed himself to say, “the name of Emilio Nahaz?â€
See the hopeless beg for death, hear the harmless cry
The voice, calm, deadly. Came from nowhere in particular, but nevertheless caused the wax figure to spring in a meaningless direction.
Tears wasted on the knight, he knows your turn to die-
“I can see you, you bloody bastard! I know where you are!â€
Mark in his intentions, sirs, the readiness to kill
“Show yourself! Show something! Show…. Anything!â€
Sacrifice those profoundly weak, those with lesser will.
“I will not be ignored!†The wax figure was screaming now, “I will not allow you to –“
A spinning blade caught him in the shoulder. He flailed his weapon wildly, bellowing at the top of his lungs. He was parried easily and knocked soundly over the head with the hilt of a sword. All at once, he found himself disarmed, and pinned against the floor of the coliseum. He screamed in fear and hopelessness, he allowed himself to wail. Emilio showed no signs of emotion. All Emilio could do was calmly allow the device to touch the wax figure, who squirmed under his steady grasp. The name of Emilio Nahaz slowly morphed into something infinitely more meaningless. All the wax figure could do was weep.
“Hear the name of Emilio,†Emilio said, releasing all pressure from the wax, “and know that he has ended you.â€
He left the man, quivering, clutching the device to his chest. It was a pity, yes, to have so lesser a man enter in competition against his will. But this was a game of death, and Emilio knew that mercy would only hold him down.