Colosseum - Quarterfinal - Shang Tsung vs Strazio Rockwell

[Storyteller]

Shang Tsung glanced at the Kingdom colors and wondered if he was the 'good guy' in whatever tableau the Colosseum officials had concocted for this round of the festivities. On the other side of the arena, his adversary stood before a red flag with some strange insignia that was probably a tribe of some sort.

Strazio Rockwell scowled at the assortment of weapons and wondered if any of them would be useful.

Out in the crowd, a Brahma Bull flash a smug smile as he threw a handful of popcorn toward his tag-team partner. The buttered kernels silently hit whatever fancy-pants magic coated the arena and dropped down as if they weighed a hundred times more.

"Kick his candy ass, Rockwell," the Rock shouted before flashing glares at the tiny people who surrounded him. At the sight of the wrestler's scowl, they all broke out into cheers for Strazio as well. Feeling accomplished, the Great One leaned forward and watched.

Somewhere, the gong resounded, and the match started.

Judges - Minato and Sinbad

Shang Tsung posts first and may do so at anytime after 1 PM CST.

Description of fight area and other information can be found here - <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?p=50443#p50443">viewtopic.php?p=50443#p50443</a><!-- l -->

Please refer any questions to that thread.

Word Limit: 750
Posts: 3
Time Limit: 48 hours
SP use is enabled. SP does not regenerate between rounds. Injuries may occur. Neither injuries nor SP use are factored into judgment, only the quality of writing

[Shang Tsung]

With the sound of the gong still filling the air, Shang jogged forward and leapt onto the next structure. On the other side of the zone, his adversary started at him as well, and within a few moments, they were standing on opposing sides of a main thoroughfare—their eyes glued on one another.

Rather than a dragon or a superhero, his foe was a man with stern blue eyes and snow-white hair. Skin long-since darkened by years of sunlight was marred with countless scars. The man’s entire outfit matched the color of his hair, and it was only a pair of books and a necklace that added any flair to his attire. As Shang stared, he realized he recognized the insignia that his adversary wore around his neck.

“You are a Defender of Darkshire,” Shang stated as he reached beneath his tunic and pulled out a necklace that bore the same metal emblem.

The man’s stern gaze relaxed just slightly as he nodded his head. “Strazio Rockwell.”

“Shang Tsung. Have you been to Darkshire recently?”

Strazio shook his head, and the sorcerer noticed the man’s fingers were twitching at his sides. Something a little thicker than air seemed to be swirling around the warrior’s arm. “Banter can wait until after the blood has been spilled.”

Before Shang could offer a response, his adversary threw a hand forward. His opponent from the last round—Ms. Marvel, a name that came to him now as if he’d known it all his life—had used energy with a calculated precision and finesse.

Strazio Rockwell was no Carol Danvers.

His attack roared into existence, burning the air around it as it screamed across the street toward its intended target. The distance allowed the sorcerer a moment to stare with wide-eyes at the erratic beam of white energy. The attack spat loose bolts of white light outward, as if at any moment its immense fury might tear it apart. Shang threw himself to the ground and winced as the blast collided with the adjacent structure and started a chain reaction that caused the quaint brick house to implode on itself.

Before the sorcerer could shake the ringing from his ears, Strazio leapt across the street and landed a few feet away with a dull thud of heavy boots on brick. The warrior rushed forward and kicked Shang with enough force to lift the sorcerer up off the ground and slam him into the little two-foot barricade at the edge of the roof. Before Strazio could press his advantage, Shang craned his neck toward his foe and smiled before releasing a stream of Draconian fire.

The blue-eyed Defender roared as the flames crashed against his chest and face. After the initial surprise subsided, Shang swore he saw a glimpse of a smile on Strazio’s face before a shimmering shockwave erupted out from the man’s scarred body.

As he was barely three feet from the blast, Shang could only huddle against the barricade as the concussive wave of heat and force slammed into his back. The brick barricade held for a fleeting moment before crumbling, and before he knew it, Shang was tumbling down the side of a three-story building.

React!

Shang shot out a hand, his fingers groping frantically for a grip on the brick wall. They found a small stone ledge on the second story, and with a grunt, the sorcerer threw himself through the closed window. He hit the ground with a dull, spine-shuddering thud and pulled himself up as quickly as he could. Before he had a chance to gauge his surroundings, the ceiling collapsed in a brilliant eruption of white energy followed by a smoldering shower of brick and wood shards.

Boots thudded on the floor above him a beat later. Like their master, there was no nonsense to the methodical, heavy pace of the footwear.

Shang knew an opportunity when he saw one, and with a smirk, he threw his hands up toward the ceiling and fired a marvelous pair of energy blasts. Before he knew whether he had found his target or not, the sorcerer launched a second and then a third volley up into the now crumbling ceiling. With a groan, part of the building crumbled beneath the abuse. Shang caught a glimpse of white amid the avalanche of wood, brick, and stone.

Rather than remain inside the building as it toppled like a house of cards, the sorcerer turned and hopped back through the shattered window.

[Strazio Rockwell]

　　In a choking cloud of dust and debris Strazio’s world crumbled around him. Large chunks of stone and wood came crashing down onto the scarred mage. Smothering rubble muffled his scream as the building collapsed onto him. Pinned against the unyielding weight Strazio could only rage against his imprisonment. His mind raced back to his childhood. Buried beneath the debris of his smoldering town all he could do was cry and scream. But now he was no longer a child. He was a goddamned survivor.

　　Small sizzling sparks ate away at his skin. Their greedy feast propagated more gluttonous particles until nothing remained of Strazio Rockwell. In his stead seethed a roiling mass of destructive energy. The sparks slipped between the cracks of the rubble, acting more akin to a liquid than their form would imply. A pool of crackling particles coalesced in the street, eventually forming one livid mage. Scrapes and bruises peeked out from underneath his ruined cloak.
　　
　　“Is that all you’ve got?” Strazio bellowed across the empty streets.
　　
　　As if to answer his challenge a burning skull erupted from the floor between his feet. The incendiary braincase slammed into his jaw, uppercutting him and sending him stumbling backwards. His mind scrambled to make sense of the world. Equilibrium was nothing more than a fancy word to the disorientated mage. Shang spared no quarter and emerged from behind a stone fence. Taking advantage of hi opponent’s stupor he raised his handcannon. Burning bolts of green soulfire spiraled into Strazio’s flesh. He yelped in pain as three of the bullets carved into his flesh.
　　
　　Nothing brought clarity like a gunshot wound.
　　
　　Instincts urged Strazio to get the hell out of the way, but his temper forced him to stand and fight. Another bullet whistled past his head. Sparks crackled along Strazio’s body and he sprinted towards Shang. Power surged into the Avatar’s legs, pushing them beyond human limits. With barbarous speed he tackled Shang, sending the both crashing into a nearby fruit kiosk. Brightly colored fruits scattered into the air. Both fighters wrestled in the multi-colored bounty of sweet smelling fruits. Blood and juice stained their robes in equal measures. The two sat deadlocked for an eternity. The Avatar's ferocity proved an equal match for Shang's impressive skill.
　　
　　Shang’s arm twisted and contorted into a pallid muscular limb. From beneath his forearm a wicked blade slipped through the flesh. The Avatar’s body shuddered with shock as the length of pointed metal pierced his side. Once again, against his instincts, he latched onto the pain and anger. Skewering himself upon the blade he pulled himself closer to Shang. An inhuman snarl tore itself free from Strazio’s gritted teeth.
　　
　　“I. Don’t. Break.” A splatter of sickly warm blood punctuated every word.
　　
　　Shang chuckled and responded, “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”
　　
　　Using the skewer for leverage the sorcerer twisted into Strazio. The painful lever pressed into his wound and forced him to roll onto his side. The Avatar now found himself pinned against the shattered remains of the fruit stand. A raucous crowd framed the soulstealer as he tried to keep the rabid dog from escaping. The lethargic hands of fatigue gripped both fighters. Shang’s grasp slipped for only a moment, but a moment was all that Strazio needed. A scarred palm slammed into the sorcerer’s chest and his heart skipped a beat. Concussive force echoed into the soulstealer’s rib cage. A muffled burst of devastating magick smashed into his center mass. A trail of blood followed the tumbling sorcerer as he skidded into the cobblestone street.
　　
　　The weight of the world pressed down upon Strazio. They had only been fighting for a few minutes and he already felt spent. Even his bones felt weary. The hole in his side did nothing to help the situation. But even with such adversity bearing down upon him he couldn’t help but feel at home. He built his entire life upon the foundation of disaster and misfortune. “This is nothing” he muttered to himself as he stood. Sparkling fireflies danced around his open wound. They bit at the blood vessels to sear them shut.
　　
　　“You better be prepared,” Strazio spit into the air, “cause I’m gonna fuck you up.”

[Shang Tsung]

His entire body burned.

Strazio’s words echoed in the sorcerer’s head as he caught his breath. Tiny sparks danced across the warrior’s tortured flesh, and within a few moments, his myriad wounds seemed apparently healed.

No, not healed…

Fucking. Cauterized.

The white-haired masochist had turned his own powers against his open wounds—burning the flesh black to staunch the flow of blood. Was there any wonder that his flesh was decorated with so many scars?

“Come on,” Shang hissed as he held out his hands. There was a flash of light, and then he felt the familiar heft of the hammer in his grasp. Clutching the weapon to his chest like a security blanket, the sorcerer glared into the burning gaze of his adversary. “Let’s see if the rest of your bones are as dense as your fucking skull.”

Strazio snickered and launched himself from the alley, leaving behind a blur of white energy. A bloodied pair of knuckles streaked through the sky toward the sorcerer’s cheek. The former monk slipped out of the way and lashed out with the butt of the hammer’s haft. The glancing blow to his skull staggered the warrior but wasn’t enough to ground him. Like a cornered animal, Strazio seemed to draw power from his furious desperation. With a sputtering growl, he spun on his heels and hurtled a fist that glistened with raw energy.

He knew that he was too close to escape what was coming next.

Common sense told him to dodge…

Common sense, however, would not defeat this adversary. Shang swung the hammer into the side of his opponent’s skull as the concentrated pulse of white heat and force crashed against his chest and sent him crashing through a glass storefront. The Day’Suis blinked from existence like a dying star when it left the man’s tight grasp, but by that point, his thoughts were on the shards of glass embedded in his body and the shattered remnants of a shelving unit beneath his tortured spine.

Shang ground his teeth together and sat up from the jagged remnants of the shelf. He felt something rough and unyielding rip through his robes and rake the already raw flesh underneath. His knees shook—threatening to quit the moment his resolve wavered—but the sorcerer rose to a fully vertical position even as fresh blood dribbled from the glimmering stakes in his flesh.

Out in the street, Strazio was crouched down with both of his fists clamped around one side of his face. When the manic warrior saw his adversary stumbled over the broken window pane, his eyes light up with an animal fervor. The hands dropped to reveal that the man’s left ear had been crushed into a cartilaginous pulp against his flesh. His left cheekbone had been shattered as well, and the impact had managed to slough off nearly a fistful of his skin, revealing the sinewy muscle beneath. Even with part of his face reduced to a crimson mass, the masochist managed to twist his expression into yet another toothy sneer. “Is that it?”

“Fuck you,” Shang rasped as he gathered the disjointed thoughts in his head. Once they settled, he smiled and shoved away from the ruined storefront.

“Come on!” Strazio snarled as his arms and fists shined and swirled with the chaotic white energy that seemed to run off his blood.

Instead of a desperate offensive, Shang suddenly erupted into an entirely familiar cloud of white energy.

The Surge washed over the tortured form of Strazio Rockwell, and with it, a rush of heat and fire that burned at his pride more than anything else. When Shang reformed on the other side of him, the rage-fueled warrior turned to tear his foe’s throat open, but before he had that chance, the Day’Suis swung up and crashed square into the bottom of his jaw.

In one blinding moment of agony, Strazio’s jaw smashed shut with enough force to shatter almost every tooth in his mouth. Fresh blood bubbled forth from gums now reduced to shredded crimson ribbons. The impact threw the masochist’s head up, and along with a gurgling scream, a veritable fount of blood sputtered out from his blood-stained maw. There was enough of the sweet, coppery fluid for it to spatter across Shang’s sneering features as his opponent lurched backwards, momentarily overwhelmed by the crushing blow.

“Welcome to mortal kombat,” Shang rasped as he discarded the hammer in a flash of photons and lunged like a hungry predator.

[Strazio Rockwell]

There was no time to contemplate the sudden disappearance of reality, Strazio's opponent was already upon him. Blow after blow tore into the shattered mage’s body. Shang’s fists were stones and he struck with the precision of a cobra. There was no weakness to exploit, nothing to stop the unyielding flurry of blows. Strazio stumbled back with each strike, trying in vain to protect his gut from the assault. The numb pain that each fist brought sent pangs of fear through Strazio’s body. Desperate power raced through the avatar’s veins, his muscles surged with inhuman strength. Using his newfound strength he reached out and grabbed Shang’s arm. A blood-filled roar ripped from Strazio’s throat as he strained against his opponent. Using the remaining scraps of his strength he threw Shang across the street.

Everything hurt. His muscles pulsed with every heartbeat and bruises covered his ravaged body. His jaw hungs distended and hurt with an intensity usually reserved for mortal wounds. A river of blood poured from his face and mouth, staining the remains of his tattered cloak. But despite his shattered jaw and ruptured organs Strazio still stood tall. Wicked sparks ate away at the open wounds, closing them with flame. The side of his face was nothing but a seeping mass of charred flesh and burnt blood. Inside his mouth he felt his teeth, or rather the shattered shards of his teeth. He spit a mixture of copper blood and white porcelain onto the street.

“You movveruckers aways ave to it my ead” he snarled through a broken maw.

An unending rage burned within Strazio’s chest. He wished to beat Shang in the worst way. The pain in his jaw made him wish that the battle was bloody. He wished that every blow was a pound of flesh carved from a screaming body. Abbadon was never a more fitting word to describe Strazio’s charge. Shang stepped back, unsure of what unholy powered fueled his opponent. The Avatar roared with the intensity of a dying star. Shang smirked and drew a long double-edged sword from his waist. The soulstealer side-stepped his rage-drunk opponent and sliced

*SCHINK*

The Avatar scrambled to block the incoming attack and raised his arm. The blade cut deep into his forearm, slicing through bone like butter. Strazio swallowed the pain and continued the attack with his free arm. A bursts of white magic crashed into Shang’s body, forcing him onto his ass. Blood spurted from Strazio’s stump and his magick went to work sealing the massive wound. His hand hung limp by a strand of skin and sinew. Two sticks of broken bone stuck free from his cauterized stump, a grim reminder of his foolish charge.

“Your rage makes you foolish,” Shang laughed and stood “and I thought this was going to be a tough fight.”

“My wayge?” Strazio still found strength to grin, “it maykth me dangerouth.”

He ripped his worthless hand from his own body. The limp limb felt heavy in his free hand. He tossed the dismembered limb at Shang, splattering him with blood. The soulstealer smirked and flourished his blade. He raised his hand, palm up, and beckoned Strazio to come and fight. His arrogant display was interrupted by the smell of burning flesh and the sound of electricity arcing. White sparks of lightning consumed the missing limb and it became a small ball of energy. An incredible explosion swallowed his body.

Roaring echoed throughout the stadium. The sight of Shangs defeat made the already spirited crowd berserk. Strazio fell to a knee, he was almost at his limit and despite his cauterized wounds he had lost a lot of blood. Two more fight to the championship he thought I can make it. He looked at his stump and cringed, it pulsed with pain. Blood still seeped through the charred flesh, forming a small puddle on the cobblestone. His lungs burned with exhaustion and his ribs creaked with every breath. From the smoke emerged a figure belching smoke and fire. A bright red blade of light cut through the smog as Shang stalked forward. Burns marked where his skin had been kissed by the resulting fire.

“You’re dead, I’m going to grind you to dust.”

[Shang Tsung]

Although he brandished the energy sword with confidence and a splash of arrogance, Shang was crumbling from within, his body growing increasingly lethargic and unresponsive as the grueling battle continued.

The only real solace—the silver lining—was that Strazio was down to three limbs.

What type of maniac turns their severed arm into a bomb? The sorcerer marched toward his foe and tried to conceal his limp. Although the reality made his head throb, he knew the answer to his question… Someone who will do whatever it takes to win.

The masochist was no normal man. There were ways to defeat a ‘normal man’ that didn’t involve bloodying your fists or risking your neck. The Great Kung Lao had been the only person to eve humble Shang Tsung, but even the legendary monk had ultimately been undone without his archrival lifting a finger. Unfortunately, Strazio wasn’t a fool or someone who could be easily manipulated. He was one of those unbridled, uninhibited sociopaths that didn’t understand what it meant to yield.

No one who would blow up chunks of their body had all the pieces in their skull working correctly. Men, women, and creatures who shared Strazio Rockwell’s mindset could only be dealt with in one manner—Violence.

With a rasping hiss, Shang lashed out with the humming weapon. The masochist ducked the glowing arc of the blade and rushed forward, slamming his thick skull into the center of his opponent’s chest. One grimy hand clutched around the sorcerer’s back as he was driven back by the manic man before him. A scowl set itself on Shang’s visage as he inverted the lightsaber and sank it down through Strazio’s left shoulder. A feral roar tore out of the wounded warrior’s throat as he threw his opponent against a brick storefront.

Although the impact was enough to knock some of the breath from his lungs, Shang kept his balance and his bearings, while his opponent was too battered to immediately press his advantage. Clipping the lightsaber inside his belt, the sorcerer pushed away from the wall.

The air around Shang Tsung’s body started to glow with green energy, and an unseen swirl of wind started to ruffle his tattered clothes and bloodied hair.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” the sorcerer muttered before rushing forward with a sudden burst of newfound speed and burying his knee into Strazio’s gut. The white-haired man let out a grunt as he was bent over the sorcerer’s limb by the impact. With a smile, Shang tilted his head closer to his opponent’s intact ear. “I really enjoy every bit of this.”

To punctuate his remark, the former monk smashed an elbow against the side of his adversary’s skull. With a sickening crack from a blow too strong to be coming from someone that winded, Strazio toppled over to the cobblestone street.

“Normally,” Shang hopped forward and buried a boot into Strazio’s gut. “I have to indulge in a little restraint in these situations.” The former monk swung back his boot and delivered a second swift kick that sent his foe skidding across the street. “…but not with you, Strazio Rockwell.”

As the masochist writhed on his side, he grabbed at the cobblestones with his good hand. Even as fresh jolts of pain crashed through his nervous system, his fingers tried to find something solid to grip and use as leverage to stand. A burst of marvelous energy exploded against the man’s chest with enough force to throw him backwards into a stone lamppost.

Shang, his body now glowing with translucent flames, stalked across the street. When he was within range, he scooped down and latched a hand around his opponent’s neck. “I don’t need to hold back with you.” To sell the point, Shang drove an open palm into his foe’s ribcage. “I can just let it all out.” A closed fist crashed into the side of the white-haired man’s skull. “Nine hundred years of anger, and you’re just a giant dumb sponge that doesn’t know when to stop.”

With a grunt, Shang hoisted Strazio up off the ground and onto his feet. Before the masochist could lash out with a fist or a jagged stump, the sorcerer slammed a pair of palms into his opponent’s chest, sending the other man crashing backwards through a window.

“We’re not finished!” Shang screamed, his ravaged body pulsing with all the fury of a star on the verge of blossoming into a super nova.

Used Spiritken (Tier 1 Power Up) for this post and Strazio's next post (-2 SP)

[Strazio Rockwell]

Shards of glass carved into Strazio’s skin as he crashed through the window. The weight of the battle pressed against the Defender of Darkshire. His promise to Demitri felt like a heavy burden that exposed cracks in his willpower. The fresh cuts that adorned his body refused to stop leaking red, and he lacked the energy to cauterize them. Muscles throbbed with exhaustion, and his legs began to cramp. Still, against the pain, and against his body’s wishes he stood. He stood because that was all he could do, he knew not how to surrender.

“Are you dead?” The former monk taunted, “things were just getting exciting, don’t tell me that you’ve bled out.”

Strazio laughed. It started as a simple smirk that cascaded into a throaty gore-filled chuckle. Sliver of porcelain teeth and chunks of bloody flesh spattered from the Avatar’s maw. Inside the room a small ember of white light flickered into existence. The dim light began to tear away at Strazio’s form, devouring his flesh and bones. His skin peeled away to reveal a roiling humanoid mass of burning bleach-white energy. In the darkness two piercing yellow eyes focused their fury onto Shang. A devastating bolt of magick ripped free from the building, crashing open a hole in the wall. Chunks of shattered bricks and rubble pelted the super-charged sorcerer.

“Nine-hundred years of anger?”

From the cloud of dust advanced the Avatar of Anger. Hatred spewed from his mouth and his voice threatened violence. Now converted to searing energy his shattered jaw no longer hindered his speech. The unending rage of the Avatar turned his many injuries into minor inconvenience.

“That is all you have after nine-hundred years?” The Avatar snarled, “twelve years, twelve miserable years of undying rage is all it took for me to become this powerful. You’re outclassed and I’m going to fucking tear your god-damned limbs from their sockets!”

A smirk found its way onto Shang’s lips as he raised his fists in preparation for Strazio’s assault. As the Avatar rushed forward the heavy staccato of his boots filled the air. He halted only a few feet from Shang and raised his palm. The sorcerer’s eyes widened as he dove to dodge the inevitable shotgun of death. A blast of sweltering heat singed the edges of the ex-monk’s robe as Strazio’s attack erupted next to him. He took the moment of vulnerability offered him and tackled the Avatar. His opponent’s body were warm and smelled of fire and blood.

Once more their fight had devolved into a dirty wrestling match. This time each blow threatened to end their lives. Shang’s superior skill once again bested Strazio’s unbridled rage. The Avatar found himself pinned against the grimy cobblestone. A deep breath filled the soulstealer’s lungs with flame. He exhaled, spewing a torrent of stolen embers. Fire and fury swallowed Strazio, the only thing keeping him conscious was his hatred for Shang. The pain pierced through his veil of anger and he cried out in agony as the burning flames scorched his body. In the Omniverse even the Avatar of Anger could experience pain.

In his desperation he dared to tempt fate by calling upon the profane power strapped to his belt. The Necronomicon whispered promises of victory to the foolhardy mage. Blasphemous energy swirled around the skin-bound book and its obscene power became manifest. The gnarled hand of an undead troll erupted from beneath the cobblestone street. Unbeknownst to Shang Tsung the zombie freed itself from a prison of earth. The creature skull had no eyes, but the will of the Necronomicon was all the guidance it needed. With a blood-chilling groan the zombified troll hooked a meaty arm around the sorcerer’s throat. Terrifying strength peeled him from his dominant position, giving Strazio a split-second to act. The Avatar raised his palm for the final time against his opponent. All-in, this attack would be his swan song. Dumped into the assault was every last drop of hatred and willpower that Strazio could muster. Fear scratched at the back of Strazio’s mind, I cannot be found wanting.

Used the Necronomicon to summon one zamboni.
Activated the Avatar of ANger for 1 SP
Activating Tier-one offensive super move "Overload"
1/4 SP remaining

[Shang Tsung]

With a long sigh, Strazio descended from his ascended state. His raw flesh burned red with his fury, and his clothes had been scorched to shreds around his muscled figure. Unaffected, his belt and the two books that hung from it drifted in the gentle breeze that blew through the synthetic cityscape. He felt some tension ease from his brain as the zombied troll let out a death rattle and crumbled into a pile of discolored ashes.

Somewhere in the distance, the Defender of Darkshire heard the cheer of the crowd, but before he could let himself relax entirely, he listened through his mangled ears for the source of the noise.

Not our section of the arena…

Whoever was cheering, they were doing so for other contests that were winding down in the other three battle zones.

Looking at the crumbled building, Strazio knew in his gut that he stared at the dust-coated crypt of Shang Tsung. The sorcerer could not have endured such a grievous injury…

Somewhere among the rubble, the white-haired man spotted some movement. A beat later, a lance of yellow energy tore through the stonework and slammed into the man’s handicapped arm. Already weary flesh burned down to the bone as the knees of the warrior buckled underneath him.

Strazio caught himself with his good hand, but try as he might, he couldn’t find the strength to force himself back to a vertical position. His dilated eyes glared angrily at the ground before him as blood dribbled down from various wounds on his visage. There was the echo of boots upon the cobblestone, and then the white-haired man was struck by a solid kick to his exposed midsection.

Rolling through the momentum, some mixture of grit and rage gave Strazio the edge he needed to get his feet underneath his battered carcass. As he rose to his feet, the Defender of Darkshire glared at his adversary. Shang Tsung looked like little more than a walking corpse—the sorcerer’s flesh was burned and flayed off in various locations. The blackened remains of his robes hung loosely around his mangled figure.

“You look like shit,” Shang rasped as he started to lurch toward his adversary.

Despite his mouth being little more than a pool of blood and shredded gums, Strazio managed a last, slurred remark. “Fuck you.”

The tarkatan blade slid out from Shang’s blackened forearm, and with a grunt, the sorcerer stepped forward and slammed the organic weapon into the other man’s ribcage. A deformed hand swiped at Shang’s face, cutting fresh lines in his already battle ravaged countenance. With a schnickt, a second blade loosed itself before being driven into the other side of the white-haired man’s chest. At that second, lung-punching impact, Strazio’s rasps were replaced with blood-laced gurgles as the blades slid out from his battered carcass.

As his balance eroded, Strazio made one last feral swipe at his opponent. In a flash of bloody bone-steel, Shang cleaved off the man’s hand. The white-haired man smacked into his opponent and dropped to his knees.

“I’ll have these for you in Darkshire,” Shang replied as he severed the chain that connected the pair of books from his opponent’s belt. Words tried to make their way out of the dying man’s maw, but his opponent drove a blade through his mouth and out the base of his skull. “Hush…” Shang muttered as he retracted the weapon back into his forearm and half-knelt, half-fell to his knees next to Strazio. “Your soul is mine.”

Shang: +1 Necronomicon, +1 Strazio's Journal (bohbohboh)