Siege of Darkshire - The Breach

[Sarah Kerrigan]

Kerrigan walked slowly through the broken pieces of stone and rubble that once symbolized “Safety” to those inside the Walls of Darkshire. Her bladed wings shivered with anticipation, as she walked through the fallen debris and destruction that now swarmed with her forces. Not a moment after the walls fell to crumbling, corpse-ridden pieces, a sea of bloodthirty monsters and spirits charged for the rubble of the broken wall with savage enthusiasm.

Kerrigan smiled, as she turned to speak to Skeletor’s orb, only to find it suddenly fizzle out of existence in front of her. Problems underneath the city? No matter.
“Go. Fan out. Spread destruction. Let none survive-”

“Who is wearing the pants?!”

Kerrigan’s pace slowed down suddenly. She had yet to be surprised since she’d been transported to the omniverse. Turning around to see what seemed to be a young teenager, sporting shades, wearing a red and black suit, and strolling across the blood-soaked battlefield with all of the apparent care of waiting in line, that streak had been broken..

All Kerrigan could momentarily bring herself to say was “What?”

The child in front of her scanned Sarah up and down. “Well, not you. That is a serious lack of pants, holy fucking shit.” the teenager continued.

Sarah decided to end this conversation before she let her worse impulses make her decisions, turning to face this… fighter?

“My name is Sarah Kerrigan. I’m the one in command of this assault. Have you come to oppose us…?” The queen of blades asked, as her wings buzzed almost like stingers behind her back.

The teenager shrugged lazily. “Naw, I’m here to do some assaulting. And stuff. I’m not late, am I?”

Kerrigan’s zerg-modified was a hallmark of zerg engineering. It took her a fraction of a microsecond for her to make complex tactical evaluations, and create strategic plans for a lengthy campaign. She could do ten thousand games of chess with herself in the time it took a bee to flap its wings.
But Kerrigan still found herself needing  to take a second to figure out what the hell was going on.

“So am I-”

Kerrigan pointed towards the breach. “We’re assaulting through the breach. Be quick to assist us, and I might even reward you. Go!” Kerrigan stated, carefully hiding her irritation as she walked forward at a quicker pace. Something told her it was far better for this prime to join late - if he’d met them in the castle, she imagined this idiot’s head would have arrived to the assault tied to Illidan’s belt.


As soon as Kerrigan pointed, however, a rolling blast of white energy pointed back in response. The Queen of blades threw herself to the side just before the blast reached her, and caught herself on her hands. Cartwheeling back into a standing position, she regarded her new opponent: An angry, white-haired man who literally radiated with power.
Smoke seeped out of the half-melted remains of the stone where Kerrigan stood, and she realized she’d been half a step away from vaporization.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Kerrigan asked with an even smirk.

“Fuck you.” Was the predictable retort. In truth, Kerrigan already knew about this individual - many within Darkshire knew of the vaunted Strazio Rockwell by now, and she’d gained access to the memories of everyone she infested. She’d wondered if the tales of his destructive power were exaggerated. From that little display, she realized with some frustration that the tales of his strength had actually been underplayed.


Darkshire soldiers followed behind him, and to her exasperation, her troops were suddenly pushed back into the breach by a wall of blades and pikes. It seemed they wouldn’t be able to push into Darkshire until these soldiers were dealt with. As she saw another pair of oddly dressed creatures pop through the lines, a swordsman with a cocky smirk and a deformed, orange-horned humanoid that looked like the end result of a lifetime of drug abuse, she hoped the red-Tuxxed prime next to her was ready for a tough fight.

“Oh, shit, a troll! Didn’t we rap-battle before?”

Hope and expectation rarely went hand in hand for Sarah Kerrigan.

[Hiro Protagonist]

THHOOOOMMM

The walls had exploded thirty yards to Hiro’s left, showering the unit of troops with broken stone and falling battlements, crushing most of the men underneath thousand pound stone blocks. “Shit! Shit, shit shit shit!” Hiro swore in surprise and scanned the area with his goggles, taking in the tactical situation as he waved an arm and signaled for his contingent to spread out to reinforce the gap. Portions of the wall were still dangerously unstable, and seeing the defensive weakness, a portion of the horde rushed forward towards the opening. Their bloodthirsty shrieks rang in the hacker’s ears, filtered through his visor’s systems. It would do no good to charge into the thick of the horde. He had to get behind the walls and push outwards. The full extent of his combat potential might be enough to break the charge.

His soldiers rushed ahead to meet the side of the advancing force, zombies, skeletons and werewolves slowing their rush into the breach to engage the darkshire militiamen. Hiro stomped his boots together and leapt, an antigrav assisted jump letting him land on a rough outcropping and jump again until he landed on the battlements. Advancing forward towards the breached section of the wall, he drew his shuriken pistol and began firing at the flying, shrieking shapes swooping low and buzzing archers ahead of him, trying to prevent them from regrouping. Nearly invisible projectiles sheared leathery wings from shoulders, causing the strange bat creatures to spiral down to a sickening splat. As he drew nearer, the Samurai of Silicon leapt to a nearby roof behind the wall, skipping away from the wall until he spotted an empty space to drop down into.

He hit the ground rolling and was nearly knocked over by a white haired blur, radiating power and fury as the man dashed towards the ruined wall, firing off white hot blasts of energy and vaporizing demons and those strange insect beasts. “Hey Bro.” A voice came from his side, the hacker standing up to see a grey teenager with orange and yellow horns waving at him. “You might wanna give Strawso some room.” Hiro blinked behind his lenses, and scanned the newcomer, analyzing any information he could get. The boy shrugged and started walking, the still confused ronin falling in step next to him as he went on. “He’s a wicked dude, and strong as hell. Has some rage issues though, but like, who doesn’t, right? I'm Gamzee.”

Hiro nodded at the boy and drew his tanto as the charging Strazio and a unit of rallied militiamen pushed the incursion back out of the breach. “I'm Hiro. We’ll get better acquainted after this is over, alright Gamzee? I'll keep an eye out for you and Strawman out there.” The troll nodded and Hiro gritted his teeth, flashing forward in a burst of speed that took him out of the wall and directly into a melee.

Bright blades flashed in the air as Hiro kicked into high gear, raindrops splitting microseconds before his dual blades found soft, undead flesh or a rusted weapon to parry. The Digital Daimyo displayed amazing speed compared to the more sluggish of Illidan’s footsoldiers, working his way around the area of the breached wall and clearing space for soldiers to cover and dig in. In the corner of his vision he saw Strazio duelling with a woman who seemed to be half bug, and another teen in a suit that was rather similar to Deadpool’s. Just as Hiro cut through the last undead attacker in his vicinity, he saw a shambling mummy wrapped in cloth and rags raise a twisted ritual knife, attacking the distracted Strazio from behind.

In one smooth motion, the techno samurai sheathed his tanto in their shoulder straps and drew his pistol, firing a barrage of micromolecular shuriken that cut the surprised ambusher in half. The woman spread wings of bone and shrieked at Hiro, while Strazio fended off the child’s assault. “Impudence! You interrupt our domination?” Hiro aimed the pistol at Kerrigan and pulled the trigger again, before holstering it and bursting forward just behind the projectiles, drawing his katana in a striking motion. They clashed on the battlefield as Hiro’s shurikens pelted the Zerg Queen’s body, followed almost immediately by a powerful arcing swing from his katana.

His face inches from hers, the blue sheen of his lenses reflecting her own twisted face back at her as they struggled to overwhelm the other’s weapon. Sword versus bony tipped wing. “Interrupt? Bitch, we’re the main event.”

SHING

They drew back from each other, and the Zerg Queen attacked Hiro with a vicious assault from her wings, spiked ends stabbing hungrily at his form. But the loose coat and his superior speed aided him, her stabs catching his shifting apparel while the hacker fended off her stabs with his blade, even mock yawning to piss her off. And piss her off, it did.

Hiro aimed a clean swipe at her side, and Kerrigan chose to take the hit, a loud crunching sound emanating as the blade bit into her body. She took the opening to lunge forward, claws outstretched, and grabbed Hiro by the throat, hissing furiously as she channeled some sort of energy through her palm and squeezed. ‘Enough of this, clown. You are not worthy of the death I give you.” She focused her mental energies, squeezing life and thoughts out of Hiro as he choked and struggled. “Bet you didn't see this one coming, lady.”

Kerrigan wore a confused expression for a half second before whirling around and watching Strazio’s fist sail less than an inch past her face. Then came the white hot blast of energy, making her stumble back and drop Hiro unceremoniously. He sprung to his feet, rubbing his neck, and watched their two opponents recover as well. “Thanks for the save, man.”

Strazio grunted. “Focus. This isn't Dante’s Abyss.”

Hiro sheathed his katana and nodded. “But we’ll survive it. Let’s rock!”

Round 1
Hiro used Eldar Shuriken Pistol, Regretful Tanto, Glass Katana
Kerrigan used Psychic Grip, Wing Blades

[Strazio Rockwell]

Great, an optimist. Like Strazio needed another beacon of hope in his life. He latched onto Hiro’s words, and they infuriated him. Surviving this fight was not something he intended to do. Or, more accurately, he was not just going to survive, he was going to thrive. In his belly an inferno fed by those that dared to assault Darkshire smoldered. This monster that stood before him, this chitinous and alien woman, would be annihilated. She was the spark that ignited the ever-present hate-furnace rumbling behind his heart. Arrogance seeped from every pore of her deformed body. She had the audacity to strike against Strazio’s charge and for that she would suffer. It was the Defender’s duty to safeguard Darkshire and he did not take this duty lightly.

Around the trio a battle tempest swirled. Their small circle of conflict amounted to not much more than a very violent eye of an even more vicious hurricane. Between Strazio’s unyielding aggression and Hiro’s reserved yet precise attacks Kerrigan was losing any semblance of an advantage she held. However, her labyrinthian mind processed a thousand permutations within mere moments. Overclocked, but not overburdened, she plotted and despite the whirlwind of lethality enveloping her a plan was hatched. Her wings slashed at Hiro in wide swathes, creating both a curtain of blades and, more importantly, breathing room. Energy the color of egg yolk hummed in her left hand, a manifestation of her psionic will. Strazio shouted and rushed at her. The Queen stepped into her opponent, throwing off his sense of distance and timing. Dead center, her palm smacked against Strazio’s sternum and robbed his momentum. In the next moment the rage-mage was lifted high into the sky, swallowed by Kerrigan’s psionic force.

“Let me go you bitch,” he shouted.

“As you wish,” she responded. With one swift motion the infested woman brought her hand down and Strazio along with it. His body smacked against the hard earth with an audible thump. Air was ripped from his lungs and he gasped. The back of his head found a rock and everything went dark.

It took a few moments for Strazio.exe to come back online. Reality came trudging back to the exasperated mage like a misbegotten dog, starving and covered in fleas. Rolling onto his stomach the Avatar of Rage clawed up clumps of moist dirt. Catching his first full breath in what felt like eons and he used it to scream. The hate-furnace was stoked baby and it was the heart of this white-haired pain-train. A second breath fueled his ascent and the third forced him forward into a sprint. By now Kerrigan and Hiro had moved some distance away, no doubt the final step in her machination. His eyes narrowed and everything except for Kerrigan melted from his sight.

The Avatar’s charge was cut short as Dave stepped between him and his target. Tunnel-vision kept Strazio from noticing the Knight of Time’s approach until they were mere feet from each other. Dave swung and Strazio ducked, managing to avoid getting his head lopped off. In one solid motion Dave followed the momentum of his swing and delivered a spinning kick to Strazio’s side. Scrambling from the sudden attack the white-haired mage raised his palm and released a buckshot burst of crackling energy. It smacked against his assailant’s chest and sent the SBURB player stumbling backwards. Catching his breath Strazio stood up and shouted, “who in the fuck are you!?”

“Me?” Dave asked as some kind of device materialized in his free hand. Sleek and red the thing looked like a futuristic turntable, not that Strazio knew what a turntable was though. “I’m just your above average cool guy with a knack for kicking ass, Dave for short.”

“Listen here you sunglasses wearing fuck, I’m…” Strazio began, but was interrupted as a copy of Dave materialized mere inches from his face. An audible gasp escaped his lips as he stumbled backwards. Dave-clone slashed horizontally, mimicking his parent’s previous attack -- except this time Strazio had no chance to dodge. The mage raised his arm to protect the side of his head and shouted as Caledscratch carved into his flesh. Were this anywhere besides the Omniverse his arm would’ve been severed, however due to the nature of weapons within this universe he only suffered a severe gash. Dave-clone was not finished. Before Strazio could even look at his fresh wound the clone’s boot connected with his gut and in the span of just a few minutes Strazio had learned twice just how painful it was to get the wind knocked out of you. He buckled over and fell to his knees as Dave-copy vanished.

“Gamzee,” Strazio growled through forced gulps of air, “where the fuck are you?”

“Right here bro,” the troll said, stepping past his fallen friend.

Strazio stood, filling every little action with as much spite as humanly possible. Livid was no more a perfect word to describe the white-haired kid. Blood poured from his new wound. Sparks ate at the edges of the gash, cauterizing blood vessels and searing the wound shut. It was a painful and messy process.

“Do me a favor,” Strazio said to Gamzee, his voice quavering.

“Yeah?”

“Keep this prick off me,” Strazio said, a smirk curling on his lips, “I’ve got a date with a very lucky lady.”

“S’aight.”

Without another word the duo rushed forth. Strazio headed straight for Strider, who leaned into a batting stance. Just as the white-haired rage-mage came into range Dave swung with all of his might. Strazio’s body exploded. Thousands of electric fireflies erupted from the man’s form and surged past the stunned Knight of Time. Dave’s sword cut through the cloud, impotent against the formless gnats. Each mote of energy bit Strider’s skin as it passed, a thousand white-hot pinpricks. The tuxedo-clad youth glanced behind him and saw the fireflies condense into a sprinting Strazio, one that was headed straight for Kerrigan and Hiro.

[Dave Strider]

With a disgruntled look on his face, the Knight of Time turned to look at the troll, bringing his blade onto his shoulder. He took a moment to examine the tiny holes in his suit, his skin burning like he just partied with a bunch of fire ants in poison ivy. Dave's expression didn't show any signs of pain, even with his stinging body, as he looked up at the troll.

"Yo." He spoke aloud, a single syllable that broke through the sounds of war around them. Between them, a few soldiers and ghouls passed, glancing between them and taking cover as they realized that the two were primes. An empty circle formed on the battlefield for those that did not want to intervene, a storm of men and monsters clashing around them as they stood in the center, a strained sense of calmness.

"Hey man. You were trying to fight my man Strawso, that means that you be trying to fuck our shit up, but I ain't gonna let that happen." The clown slurred his words as he casually brought out a pair of juggling pins. Each one sported a bright color with a white stripe circling the center. The Juggalo flipped them through the air before grabbing one and pointing to Dave.

“You’re all mine, brotha.” Gamzee stumbled further, dragging his legs to Dave like a drunkard on his way home after the bars have all closed. Dave tightened his grip on his sword, his already white knuckles losing another shade of color as he held it with two hands in front of him, staring from behind his shades. He knew there was more to this troll that met the eye.

“Nah, I think I’m only like ten percent yours at most, gotta share with everyone else,” he said with a smirk. He felt a memory tug at him as he stared at the Juggalo, seeing his shade of purple on his shirt, going over the way he talked in his head, trying to remember. “I swear you’re that troll that rapped with me and got pissed about me ruining your religion or something.” He spoke as Gamzee shifted his head as if trying to tilt the memory back into place.

A grin fell upon the SBURB player’s face. “But fuck it, I gotta get these fuckers through here like we’re trying to fill a fucking bomb shelter, because like you probably already know,” Dave angled his sword as he paused, “I drop some sick fires.”

Dave burst forwards with resounding speed, bringing his sword down fast as his eyes widened in surprise, the Juggalo bringing his pin up to counter just as fast.

“Almost got me there brotha.” He heard the clown whisper as the other pin struck the Knight in the gut, knocking the breath out of him as he stumbled back, nearly dropping to the floor.

Dave wasted no time, unwilling to allow a follow-up attack. He gritted his teeth and swung low, reaching out with his hand to spin his Timetable, maintaining his balance as the juggalo jumped up into the air. The troll had brought his pins around to uppercut Dave, who barely managed to roll back out of the way before rushing forwards again. The Juggalo held his pins up in an “x” formation to block the attack, yawning before lazily speaking out.

“Having trouble brotha?”

“Just need to take a time out.”

Dave moved to the side as his clone snuck up from behind him, Gamzee’s eyes widening as another sword was brought down from above, causing him to stagger and lose his balance. The clone disappeared as Dave spun and sent the Juggalo stumbling from a kick to his side. The troll fell to a knee and turned back before looking down at his chest, where the tip of Dave’s sword managed to nick his skin. A long tear in his shirt exposed the wound on his gray skin.

“Nice trick my man,” he said as his body surged with purple static. Dave held his sword out, ready to dash forwards again before a sudden bolt of purple lightning flashed in his eyes.

“But a Juggalo has his own.”

A shower of sparks threw Dave back, a cough of pain escaping his lungs as he slammed into a small mound of dead soldiers and skeletons. Fuck, that hurt. Caledscratch sustained an indigo stain from blocking the shocking move, but Dave could feel that his ribs were sore from the blade slamming back into him. Before he could cough again the Juggalo was above him, and Dave could only put up his sword in defense as the troll slammed down on his chest, the pins a few inches from pummeling Dave’s face in. Dave held Caledscratch from the hilt and the blade as he tried to hold Gamzee back.

Both grunted while putting in their strength, Dave slowly losing ground as he lost more room to move. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be grounded and pounded like some dough in a bakery.

He slowly slipped his left hand on his blade, reaching out as he placed his fingers on the Timetable. Dave’s blade slipped further, neatly slicing into his cheek, a drip of blood sliding down the side of his head.

“What are ya doin?” Gamzee gave a confused look.

“Fallin’ back,” the Knight smirked as something flew through the air.

The troll grunted as a Dave copy fell on top of him, slamming into him with the same force as Dave hit the mound of bodies earlier, allowing Dave to shove the troll above him and over the pile. The two laid there only for a moment before jumping to their feet and turning to each other once more.

“Anyone ever told you that you are a bitch to fight?” Dave huffed, one hand on his blade and another on his record.

“Heheh, you ain’t so bad yourself brotha.” The Juggalo retorted, clearly just as tired.

1000 words according to google docs

[Gamzee Makara]

This is only a little more than slightly very annoying. Or at least it would be, that is, if Gamzee ever got annoyed by anything.

Man, this motherfucker really does know how to play it cool. Throughout the last series of exchanges and blows, the troll was mainly just trying to keep his head on straight. Keeping track of oh-so-many cool kid clones at one time proved to be a bit of a headache. He’s not really surprised the sly motherfucker outplayed him a couple times. The wound on his torso stings like a bitch, attesting to the keen edge of the kid’s broken blade. Violet ichor flows slowly over his pallid skin like magma. This’ll be about the four hundred and twentieth time he’s had to replace this shirt.

Without warning, the Bard of Rage falls into a baseball slide, just in time for the boy to react and for the tip of Caledscratch to give him a little off the top. As the wicked troll slides through his opponent’s legs, he is vaguely reminded of a vital weak point that he’s pretty positive all humans share.

*boink*

The fool throws a light jab, right between the poor guy’s legs. He crumples instantly, almost dropping his sword in the process.

“Just passing through,” he says with a grin. As he rises and the boy falls to his knees, Gamzee  can’t help but feel like he’s seen this motherfucker somewhere before.

“Oh my fuck you just did that. You really just did that,” the loser laying on the ground murmurs through a shaky breath.

Man... Even the way this guy talks is hella reminiscent of a guy he knew once upon a long time ago, in a galaxy far away. Gamzee pulls his Deuce Clubs into existence in a pretty shower of rainbow miracle sparkles. If he wasn’t in the middle of a super serious battle, he might stop and ponder the existence of these beautiful little miracles. He does indeed love a good motherfuckin’ pondering. Now just simply isn’t the time.

Lightning flickers and dances across his form. By now the prick he was assigned to distract has regained his footing, but he hasn’t regained his cool. Gamzee gets the odd feeling that this guy isn’t used to losing his cool in such a way.

The corners of Dave’s lips curl ever so slightly into a sneer, shaded eyes staring at the clownish asshole before him. He vaguely wonders how long it will take to trigger the juggalo this time.

“Let’s get on with it then, you juggalo trash,” he says coolly.

This, Dave Strider would find, was a poor choice of words. The term “juggalo” sets off a chain reaction of memories in Gamzee’s mind, all of them leading to one place, one very blasphemous place.

It’s THAT motherfucker.

His name is Dave Strider, a human he trolled ever so long ago. The one that changed his life forever. The one that exposed Gamzee to the horrors of a blasphemous group of humans known as The Insane Clown Posse.

Gamzee groans and takes a few steps back, reaching into his bottomless pockets to pull out an ice cold bottle of delicious Faygo. Don’t ask him how it manages to stay so frosty in the middle of a heated battle. He won’t have an answer for you. The juggalo will just blame it on the miracles.

“You mind if I crack this bad boy open and take a couple swigs? I’ll even sha-are,” Gamzee says, putting on a sing songy voice just for the word ‘share.’ Dave stares at his foe with a stupefied expression on his face, but does not answer.

“Sure, sure. More for me then!” Makara says with a shrug and a slight grin, not bothering to wait for an answer. Without hesitation, he pops the cap and slams the wicked elixir, chugging its contents in a matter of seconds. Then, very carefully, he kneels down and sets the empty bottle into the hand of a dead Darkshire guard. Slowly, the Fool rises and wipes his soda stained mouth with the back of his wrist.

“Everyone deserves to die with a cold one in their hand.”

Gamzee mutters something akin to a prayer, and contorts his hand in a sort of arcane juggalo gang sign.

“Yaknow, brother, I’m kinda startin’ to all up and recall who in the motherfuckin’ hell you happen to be, my pinkest of motherfuckin’ star monkeys,” he begins with a slight catch in his voice, a slight twitch in his features. He mutters something to himself, something Dave doesn’t quite catch. The clown then cackles, the sickening sound managing to somehow fit melodically into the sonorous symphony of battle.

“Dave Strider!”

A flash of violet cracks the smoky sky of the battlefield, and then another, and another. Gamzee Makara has begun to whimsically wave his arms slowly through the air, as if pushing them through molasses.

“Heretic!”

The troll’s arms shoot up, hands splayed to the heavens. Arrows of lightning begin to shoot from his palms like roman candles, filling the air high above Strider’s head with shining purple orbs. The luminous effect they have on the smoke-filled backdrop is ghostly, ethereal even.

With every inch of zealous, mirthful energy he can muster, he shouts, “Blasphemer!” and lets his hands fall to the ground.

The ensuing chaos is synonymous to an orchestra crescendoing as arrows of lightning rain down onto the battlefield like a meteor shower, lighting the place up like the Fourth of July. The bolts pierce friend and foe alike, igniting upon contact. The air smells of acrid plasma as Gamzee walks forward into the brunt of his own devastating storm, a growl tearing his throat and a grimace on his normally jovial features. He ignores the burning sensation of being caught in this finale, this beginning of the end. When he speaks, his voice is a roar, a declaration.

“Experience my miracles, motherfucker!”

994 words according to word counter.

Used Tier 2 Supermove: The End Times

SP - 2/4

[Sarah Kerrigan]

Kerrigan shuffled backwards as Hiro’s blade came a hair’s length from piercing right through her sternum. Since Kerrigan had separated the spikey-haired swordsman from Strazio’s aid, the fight had become a rapid series of parries and thrusts, feints and lunges.

Sarah had hoped to overwhelm what she viewed as the less experienced fighter quickly, but to her surprise, not only was the loud-mouthed warrior every bit as technically skilled as she was, he was considerably faster on the draw. Every slash or stab was met with a sharp parry, every feint seen through, and every attempt at  sustained offense rewarded only with another thin cut across her arms or legs.

Any human being would be frustrated against such an implacable opponent, and Kerrigan seemed to be no exception as she charged forward with a growl. Sarah leaned forward as both of her wing-blades struck out like cobras, and her opponent gave her a smug grin as he smoothly parried both, his katana sweeping and catching both of them as he smacked the tips to the right. Twirling his katana down, he countered with an upward slash that would have cut Kerrigan neatly in half had she not immediately side-stepped to the right.

Retracting her wings, Kerrigan slashed at her opponent’s shoulder with her clawed hand, but caught only air as her opponent danced just beyond reach. 
Kerrigan snarled audibly at this, and in a burst of speed, she attempted to overwhelm her opponent, attacking with a flurry of stabs as she pushed into his stance. Hiro was no slouch, however, blocking so fast Sarah could see after-images of the cocky Protagonist, each blurred image blocking a different attack, but sporting the same shit-eating grin.

The Queen’s rage became more and more visible, as she charged recklessly into Hiro, the cocky blademaster simply dancing away in response. “Can’t keep up with my moves, can ya?” 

Kerrigan’s response was an easily dodged claw slash, and a pair of slow, powerful thrusts with her Wing-blades, forcing Hiro to dodge both of them. Sarah’s hand crackled with a sickly yellow energy, as she jumped forward, seemingly giving the Hacker a free swing.


Hiro instead dodged to the side with a grin, as Sarah gave him a look of confusion. “Already saw you use that move to throw Strazio around like a rag-doll, girl. You really thought I wouldn’t see it coming?”

Kerrigan glared daggers at Hiro… only to break into a smug grin of her own. “Actually, I was counting on it.” She replied, as the sound of a creature erupting from the earth behind him changed the hacker’s expression to one of confusion.

The hacker shifted to the left by instinct, and what could have been a hail of organic flechettes piercing the would-be hero’s spine instead managed to find their home in his right shoulder.

Grunting in pain, the Protagonist spun around with a flourish, and in one fluid motion drew his pistol in his off-hand, firing a spray of spinning metal that left the Hydralisk that injured him riddled with holes. The creature let out a tortured  scream before it’s corpse fell to the ground with a thud. 

Hiro turned to fire another salvo, but the zerg-terran hybrid was quicker on the draw, and with a simple gesture, a fist-sized piece of the pulverized Darkshire wall shot up from the ground and threw itself into the surprised swordsman’s face, the smacking impact breaking the man’s nose as he Grunted in pain. 

Kerrigan didn’t waste any time as she followed up with a low kick aimed at the warrior’s front leg, tripping him and sending him to the ground. Kerrigan smirked, before pulling up the mud in front of her with a telekinetic pull, caking it onto the warrior’s face, and pushing it into his nose. “If someone asks me to describe the ‘main event’ I think I’ll describe it as ‘mercifully short.” she replied with a taunting smirk - not that the man on the floor could see it, with his face caked entirely in suffocating mud.

As she pulled her bladed wing back to finish this with a quick stab to the heart, however, Kerrigan’s glee was interrupted by a sudden thudding pain to her back, as she found herself suddenly hurtling into a large portion of what had been the top of the wall. For a few seconds, all the Queen of blades could register was pain, before she pulled herself, coughing, up to a kneeling position.

Looking up, the avatar of Anger was hurtling towards her, and Kerrigan barely managed to stumble out of the way of a white-hot blast of energy Strazio had aimed directly for her neck. “Forget about me, bitch?” 

Kerrigan pulled herself up to her feet just in time to dodge a magic-enhanced fist, before opting to jump up onto the makeshift platform of rubble behind her. “Weren’t you busy getting beaten up by a teenager?” Sarah asked, even as she noticed a recovered Hiro appear behind Strazio. There was still mud caked on his face, and his expression wasn’t quite as cocky, but he was relatively fine.

“How heartless. If you’d just let me do him in then and there, I might have actually let it be quick.” the Queen of Blades lied, before firing a pair of sizzling energy blasts at both of them. The Darkshire duo dodged the blasts, before answering with blasts of shurikens and rage energy in unison.

Kerrigan back-flipped behind the rubble, evading the fire as she bought herself a second’s breather.
Their co-ordination is annoying. I should disrupt that.
“Did you know?” Kerrigan asked mockingly, behind the solid block of rubble. “Strazio Rockwell?”
Kerrigan waited a second before continuing. “How many civilians I slaughtered on the way here??”
Her response was a loud, savage growl, and as the white-haired force of nature smashed her makeshift cover into a million pieces, Kerrigan gave a taunting smirk as she moved just out of reach.
This will do the trick.

1000 words, 5,754 characters on Wordcounter.net
Moves/powers used:
Kerrigan - Infested Slashes, Wing blades, Psi Blast, Needle Spines, Basic telekinesis, Burst Movement, Basic Super Jumping, Master acrobat.
Hiro Protagonist - Burst Movement, Glass Katana, Eldar Shuriken Pistol
Strazio Rockwell - Burst Movement, Shatter, Breach

[Hiro Protagonist]

Kerrigan and Strazio were engaged, the infested queen having regained some of her composure after baiting the Defender of Darkshire. Wiping the mud from his face, the hacker-ronin engaged the cleaning function on his goggles. The lenses glowed violently for a second, atomizing the dirt and mud on their viewport and turning it to ash that floated away into the wind. Hiro spat nasty sludge onto the ground and looked up at the sky, letting the raindrops wet his face. He had a moment to himself, even amidst the whirling maelstrom of conflict and death. Clangs and yells were being picked up by his sensors, each ringing noise or gory crunch given a distance in proximity; if too close, his HUD would flash a warning towards the source of the noise.

The mud in his mouth was rank and foul, and he desperately wished he had an energy drink or something to wash it out with. Weapons sheathed, ready to be drawn in a lightning slash of violence and precision, he flexed his gloved hands as the rain sloughed off his already tattered coat. The techno samurai measured his breathing and analyzed the two clashes nearest to him. Kerrigan and Strazio, lit by the bioluminescent glow of her putrid abominations burrowing up from the ground and the white-haired warrior's explosive brand of fisticuffs. And the two teens, both darting around and whipping at each other with confusing movements and unorthodox weapons. Just as two Dave clones parried Gamzee's club strikes, the purple troll noticed Hiro looking at him. "Yo, bro. Catch yourself some divine refreshment." Hiro raised his hand up and caught the small, plastic bottle the boy had hucked at him offhandedly. "Electric Orange Faygo...?" 

Without another moment, he twisted the cap off and was rewarded with a cheery hissing noise as the carbonation released. He was familiar with this type of beverage, though not the brand. It had provided the horrifically unhealthy but notoriously useful fuel for marathon coding sessions that left the programmer stumbling blearily out of his battle station with a glazed look and a day long crash period. In short, it was exactly what he needed. Now all that was missing was some tunes...

Goddamnit, that was sweet . It hurt his teeth as the hacker sucked down the beverage, clearing the fetid taste of battlefield mud from his throat and tongue, the sugar rush of the fruity rumpus juice surging through his stomach. The empty container hit the ground as Hiro cracked his knuckles and executed a quick series of jerky hand motions in the air in front of him. "And.....overclock engaged. Punch it, yo."

A bright blue glowing field of energy formed around the Digital Daimyo's body, coalescing into an outline reminiscent of samurai armor, his entire body a mesh of bright blue vector lines. Targeting Kerrigan as she stood over a huffing and bloodied Strazio, he yelled out an apology as he dashed forward near instataneously, leaving a bright blue wall of light behind him as a tracer. "Sorry for the kill steal, Straz!" Kerrigan barely had time to register a look of surprise on her face as she was blindsided by Hiro's increased speed and unsheathed sword swing. He dashed past her, striking as he passed, and turned on his heel five feet behind her, aiming another tremendously fast blow at her wing joint. Feeling the blow hit home and bite, he sliced down and pirouetted as the counterattack came from her other wing. The wing blade slid off his fancy digital armor with a bright flash and a dull noise. Hiro took the opportunity to give Kerrigan an even more cocky smirk, since that seemed to piss her off last time. "Face it, lady. you're outmatched."

She returned his smirk with one of her own, and flaxed her wings, blowing herself backwards and away from the techno samurai. However, Hiro could see the wing he'd hit buckling under the effort with his increased perception. It was time to end this with a decisive strike. As he flipped through the combat programs stored in his wristcomp, searching for his Chernobyl Wipe, he noticed a small, unobtrusive program in the "most recent" folder, marked 'headcrash.wraith'. He hadn't put that there...maybe Okor's little friend had given him a gift of his own. With a movement, he sheathed his katana and activated it, as Kerrigan brought forth more of her skittering beasts from the battlefield, assembling a small army.

Immediately, Hiro regretted activating the program. He felt something long and thin extend from his wristcomp and stab directly into his wrist, tightening and feeling like it was draining his blood. "Ahh, fuck! Shit!" He stared down at his arm and gripped his elbow, the vector armor fading in that one spot, his flesh feeling insubstantial as a message flashed across his HUD. "FUELING PROGRAM..." He hung on, his body aching as the program drained his very essence, another message flashing up. "FUELING COMPLETE. NURGLE ENDURES." The pain stopped, that hand simply becoming numb. The vector armor over that part of his arm looked corrupted, dark blue flashing spikes covering the digital gauntlet. The instructions on what to do just came to him. It had drained his omnilium to fuel it, he knew what he had to do.

Dashing forward, he jumped ten feet in the air, and came down fist first in between the four combatants, those corrupted spikes shooting into the ground....and then erupting upwards violently, underneath Kerrigan and her zergs.

977 Words
Hiro used T1 Powerup: Ronin of the Metaverse [Full Round] (2 SP used, 2 Remaining)
2/1/4/4 --> 4/2/6/4
Hiro used T2 Super Attack: Head Crash against Kerrigan and assorted zerg [2 SP used, 0 Remaining]

[Dave Strider]

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This clown was clearly no longer joking around and in the mood to make some of the passersby some balloon animals. A hail of bright lasers reflected off of the dark surface of Dave's shades, his face seeming grim as he braced himself and readied his weapon.

"WITNESS MY MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLES."

Oh, Dave was witnessing those miracles alright, but he really, really wished he had passed on it. It was like a whole bowl of "nope not having that shit" on Thanksgiving Day when the green beans were passed over. This douche was making it rain lasers. Fucking LASERS. The Knight of Time took a moment to scan the width of the attack, he might just be able to clear it, but HOLY SHIT, HERE HE COMES.

Dave ducked out of the way as the clown's pair of clubs smashed above him, just before trying to dash away.

"WELCOME TO THE END DAYS, DAVE!"

Fuuuuuuck. He had to move, the lasers were--

BOOM.

On his right, Dave saw an explosion as a few skeletons shattered into shards of marrow, soldiers being blasted apart left and right, the surrounding groups frantically scrambling for cover. Well shit. Dave glanced up and tracked some of the closer projectiles, trying to dash around them while keeping a lookout for more. Explosions surrounded him, and soon he began to stumble from the very ground shaking beneath him.

SMACK.

Dave was sent rolling as a club smashed into his waist, cracking several of his ribs and forcing him to take a moment to recover; the clown was right behind him, swinging with all the fervor of a Major League Baseball player. Fucker was way too fast.

"You will die a heretic Dave, and you have only yourself to blame for it, you faithless prick." The wide grin on the troll's face was enough motivation for Dave to continue his attempt to abscond.

BOOM.

Another explosion on his left. Dave looked up just in time to see a laser heading right where he was headed. There was no time, he had to block it, he needed to take this hit to get out. The edge was so close.

With a swing of his hands, Dave swung Caledscratch, hearing the searing sound of the blade screaming just as he felt the pressure from the impact. A deafening crack sounded as Dave tumbled, landing on his stomach while his sword clattered beside him. The distant sounds of striking metal and gunshots rang in his deafened ears. The shellshock of it all shook him as he struggled to stand, grabbing onto Caledscratch and hoisting himself up, his suit and skin charred from the burns. A bright glow of purple lit up to his left and he turned around in time to see the clown staring him from a distance.

Motherfucker.

The bolt of lightning aimed for his chest was blocked by his left arm, a gasp escaping the blonde kid's lips as he felt the electric burns surge through his body, just before he was blasted onto his back.

Silence. Deafening silence.

The Knight of Time laid on the ground, motionless. His shades were shattered, his eyes closed behind them as footsteps approached. The Juggalo stood over him chuckling slightly as he smiled.

"Well, would ya look at that! Looks like the cool guy couldn't handle a bit of preachin'. Any last words for your Messiah?” The Juggalo spoke as he began to charge his clubs, readying his final strike.

"Ymmbrkemphshms."

The Juggalo was dumbfounded for a moment, enough to interrupt his move. As much as he wanted to pound the prick's face in, curiosity pulled him to the still body. "Uhh... what. I didn't hear that."

"Ymmbrke. Mphshdms."

"A little louder my man." Gamzee prodded, poking the kid's chest.

The Knight opened his eyes, revealing their crimson color. "You broke my fucking shades you annoying ass juggling shit."

The troll narrowed his eyes before bringing a club down like goddamn Hephaestus at his forge. Dave raised his bruised and charred left arm up to defend himself, his bones splintering and giving way as it was hit. Crunch. Another hit.

"Just die already, filthy prick."

"My time isn't up yet, sadly. Still gotta deal with your scrub ass."

Another swing was suddenly caught by Dave's hand. The pressure from the fractured bones and pain burning through his mind as he reared his arm back and smacked Gamzee square in the nose.

Dave coulda swore he heard a honk when he made contact.

Strider followed up by lifting himself off the ground with his good hand and leaping up, spinning into an acrobatic fucking pirouette onto his feet. He took his chance to grab Caledscratch and summon his timetables, facing Gamzee. The troll held his clubs out and narrowed his eyes, still reeling from the previous attack. The wild bush of black hair stringing about his face made him seem feral, the snarl on his lips showing off far too many wickedly sharp teeth.

"Time for another trick, fucktard."

"Bring it brotha."

Dave smiled painfully as he dashed forward, a bit slower than before due to his injuries, blood dripping from his wounds as he feigned using his timetable, causing Gamzee to chuck a club at him, attempting to throw it off. Dave sped forward and slammed his shoulder into the troll, just before swinging his sword up to leave a brand new gash across his chest. They danced around for a few moments before Gamzee gave a wicked grin.

"My turn." The clown whispered as he reached out with his hand, summoning a timetable of his own.

"What the fuck."

It took only a split-instant for Dave to realize what had happened. He twisted out of place to slash the flying club out of the air, allowing the troll to kick himt from behind and send him tumbling forward, barely catching his balance to turn around.

"You record stealing little shit."

"Deal with it, brotha."

999 words according to docs

Dave took the abuse from Gamzee's Super

Dave used burst movement, along with Gamzee

Gamzee used his lightning spear again. Ow.

Acrobatic fucking pirouettes. 

Gamzee mimicked Timetables, the little shit.

RIP Dave

[Gamzee Makara]

Maybe Dave would have preferred that attack to be off the record! Ha!

Gamzee is just about to congratulate himself on this wonderful pun and share it with his loathed enemy when he promptly catches a sword with his shoulder.

*ka-schlnk*

“Ow,” Gamzee says.

“Ow,” Dave says. The two fighters just kinda stare at the wound for a second, frozen for no reason other than not knowing what to do now. Caldescratch was buried deep into Gamzee’s shoulder, barely missing his collarbone. Royal blood splurted forth from the point of impact like a small geyser, a smattering of the stuff painting the human boy’s ruined t-shirt. Strider really thought he was about to take the alien’s arm off with that one, but nope, no dice. Makara on the other hand is afraid that if he moves, he might lose the limb. It also hurt like a bitch. He thinks the blade was scraping bone and was afraid to move one way or the other.

“You uh, you mind removing that there pointy bit? It’s kinda funny feelin’,” The alien politely requested.

“Uh yeah, I suppose I’m gonna have to eventually aren’t I?” Dave murmurs, a little perturbed by Gamzee’s refusal to sustain a wound like a normal human being. Without another word, he yanks his sword free of the troll’s torso in one swift upward motion. He flicks his wrist, flinging the violet blood and cleaning his sword like a badass. The clown does nothing but shudder. His bones be all up in the wrong places or somethin’.

Gamzee takes a moment to get a crick out of his neck, and when he looks back up, he is staring dead into the vermillion eyes of Dave Strider. The troll lets loose a low “whoa,” apparently mystified by his foe’s ruby eyes. Or were they garnet? No, far too bright and faceted. Ah hell, he didn’t fucking know. Gamzee doesn’t know shit about no crystal gems.

The one thing he couldn’t help remembering is the mutant, cherry red eyes belonging to his best buddy Karkat. This thought brought a pang of loneliness amidst this heated battle, and almost doused any zealous fury he had left in him.

“Hey ya juggalo fuck, you maybe wanna-”

Almost.

Gamzee, with a heaving chest and laboured breath, roars and charges at Dave once again, juggling pins poised for the slaughter. Dave, for all his worth, swears and summons a copy, and another, and another as the raging juggalo bats them away again and again. After about the fourth Dave clone perishes, Gamzee is practically wheezing, and he falls to his knees in front of the young Strider. That chop kinda took a lot out of him, quite literally, in fact. Rage lightning crackles and nips at his skin as the troll tries to recover a bit of his stamina. Dave raises the tip of Caledscratch’s broken blade to the High Blood's nose, the razor sharp tip just barely causing a pinprick of violet to form on his pallid skin.

“Ya done goofed, troll,” Dave almost spits, thoroughly done with this clown’s bullshit antics. Jesus he had a killer headache after all this shit.

“You’re the Godless heathen, here. Not I.” Gamzee replies, equally worn down and fading fast.

It would seem that there’s only one way to settle this.

“It would seem that there’s only one way to settle this,” Dave begins.

“Oh you better motherfuckin’ believe, motherfucker,” Gamzee retorts, a grin spilling onto his blood stained lips. Oh yeah, he had started coughing up some blood about two clones into that last charge. He had almost forgotten. Probably not a good sign.

Dave slams Caledscratch into the mud of the battlefield. Gamzee plants both of his clubs hilt up into the ground. The two stand, equidistant from each other, locked in an eternal staring contest. The Knight of Rhyme cups his hands against his mouth and starts the beginning of a sick beat. Gamzee engages Hero Mode.

Grunts and soldiers slowly cease their fights, realizing what was about to transpire. They form a circle around the two fools, Darkshire Defenders behind Gamzee, the Zerg Army behind Dave. Slowly, quietly at first, they begin chanting the name of their respective hero until all that can be heard from either side is valiant shouts of “Gamzee!” or “Dave!”

Then, Dave drops the sickest of most fire beats.

Gamzee and Dave proceed to have the second worst rap-off in Omniverse history.

744 words in Word Counter.net

Gamzee used Survivabilitiy, Deuce Clubs.

Dave used Caledscratch and Remix.

I cant help but feel ive made a terrible mistake

[Sarah Kerrigan]

Kerrigan noticed Hiro’s vicious attack a moment before it struck, her eyes widening as shock took over. Trying to dodge at the last second, the queen found her hopes of escape dashed in an instant as spikes riddled her body, pinning her in place. The alien woman coughed up blood as she tried desperately to extricate herself from her crimson prison.
Sarah looked at Hiro with terrified eyes as he drew his blade. 

“Please...” she whispered fearfully. “I can…”

“Weren’t you just saying something about all those people you killed? Something happen to all that bravado, bitch?” Hiro retorted, dashing forward. 

Kerrigan’s struggling became desperate, pulling uselessly at the dataspike impaled through her abdomen as Hiro dashed forward. The cyber samurai transformed into an emerald blur that spun around Sarah like a blender. Cuts appeared all over Kerrigan’s body, and blood splashed across the battlefield as the Queen of Blades screamed in pain.

“How ‘bout you take one of these and call me in the morning!” Hiro yelled as the digital spikes dissipated, finishing the combo with a slash that left the Queen of Blades’ head and body separated.
Hiro took a deep breath before sheathing his blade, as Strazio regarded his counterpart with a look of respect. 

“Guess that takes care of her.” Hiro stated with a smile.

Strazio turned to reply with an irritated glare, before his eyes widened. 

“Down!” The Defender of Darkshire yelled.

“What are you-”

Strazio jumped forward, tackling Hiro to the ground as a hail of serrated spines sailed through the air where Hiro’s head used to be.

“I hope you enjoyed the show.” a chilling voice echoed, as the headless hallucination dispersed into an electrical mist. The real Kerrigan stepped forward with a halo of discarded weapons floating above her head - Swords, axes, daggers, even severed claws and talons. Kerrigan pointed one finger at her prone opponents, and the detritus of the battlefield forced the pair to dodge or bear an uncanny resemblance to a pincushion. The Queen of Blades was not uninjured. Her left hand lay useless at her side, a hole the size of a golf ball drilled through her wrist, spilling blood on the ground at a rapid pace. Blood seeped from fresh gashes across her legs and abdomen, and a slash across her right eye was causing the woman to blink rather rapidly.
Kerrigan’s smile hadn’t faded, though.

“Very close. Didn’t think you had it in you, swordsman.” Kerrigan admitted.
She saw the rage-filled Defender of Darkshire charge with a yell of rage, and simply waved her good hand in response. Strazio’s charge was met with a hail of flesh and bone, as Kerrigan used the severed limbs of the battlefield to smack the mage of anger onto his back.  Hiro reappeared as a dark green blur on her left, just like she’d expected, and Sarah turned and slashed at her opponent with a sadistic smirk. The protagonist jumped out of the way, before appearing behind her, but Kerrigan had expected this too, and she heard another burst of footsteps and protesting air as the speedster dodged past a barrage of Hydralisk spines, dashing to Sarah’s right as he slashed for the infested terran’s abdomen. Kerrigan had expected the counter, though, and with a simple hand gesture downward, the muddy earth churned and shifted under the protagonist’s feet, putting him off-balance. 

Strazio recovered his footing, and threw a shotgun blast of golden heat straight at Sarah. The Zerg hybrid leaped forward, over the blast and ducked in anticipation of the shot that would come next. It took everything Kerrigan had not to scream as the expected attack still managed to sear her spine, leaving vicious burns.

Turning around to see her opponents again, she noticed that one of her undead divisions had been completely wiped out during this assault. Luckily, the militia that had once been fighting in this section had moved on to different targets. 

Well, let nothing go to waste.

With a flick of Kerrigan’s good wrist, a hail of bones, skulls and long-rotted meat battered Strazio, leaving the man’s body covered in fresh cuts and bruises, and knocking him back down. Hiro quickly recovered his footing, and the Queen of Blades just barely got her wing blades in front of her in time to stop the blur of a swordsman’s rapid strikes. The Terran-Zerg hybrid would need to throw Hiro off-balance if she had any hope of winning this battle. Focusing her mental abilities, she decided to do just that with a telepathic present. Just a few choice memories from her recent conquest. 

Mommy, help me-

Where the hell is Darkshire’s-

It hurts, it hurts so much-

Why my daughter? She was innocent! Why my-

“Confused?” Kerrigan asked, smacking his blade away with her own wing-tips. “Don’t worry, I didn’t kill all of them. Some were modified to create a breach in the walls. It just required a little genetic tinkering. A human being’s only a few DNA strands away from a living explosive.”

“You…” The Protagonist breathed.

“Cat got your tongue?” Sarah taunted, parrying a telegraphed overhand slash. 

Sarah dodged away from a tornado of strikes from the ronin’s blade, all only a hair’s breadth away from cutting her apart. The warrior’s speed and power seemed even more dominant than before, but aggression like this was much more predictable. Sarah backpedaled, trying to evade the hurricane of slashes and stabs the heroic swordsman had become, before her body brushed against the stone wall.

“Ran out of places to run, slug-hoe?”

Kerrigan merely grinned, as the cyber warrior stabbed straight for her neck. A kite shield, its deceased owner lying just a few feet to Kerrigan’s right, jumped to her defense, knocking the tip of Hiro’s blade away the millisecond after it made contact with the skin of her throat. With another gesture of Sarah’s good hand, the slab of metal rocketed into Hiro’s face.

“I’m sorry. Couldn’t hear you over the broken nose.”

Kerrigan:
Moves used: Infested slashes, Wing-blades , Needle Spines, 
Powers used: Burst movement, Telekinesis (So much Telekinesis. Soooo much.), Telepathy.
Super-move used: T1 Super Defense: Hallucination (2/3 SP remaining).
Additional note: Left arm is totally non-responsive, in case that was ambiguous. Kerrigan is fighting one-armed.
Hiro: Volcanic Glass Katana, burst movement.
Strazio: Burst movement, Shatter, Breach.

Wordcounter.net: 999 Words, 5,870 Characters

[Strazio Rockwell]

For a long moment, longer than he probably should have taken, Strazio stood catching his breath. His hunched shoulders shuddered with every laboured breath. Blood dripped from his body and mixed with the mud below his feet. He had lost track of how many wounds he had picked up. None were particularly deep, but that was besides the point. They all hurt like hell. He looked for Gamzee. A crowd had gathered around his apprentice and the sunglasses-clad time-prick. He scowled. It was impossible to see the high-blood through the chaotic smattering of soldiers. His attention shifted towards the zerg queen and Hiro, the two of them were engaged in what was probably the deadliest game of tag in history.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, “need to get moving.”

He spat and stepped forward. There was no joy to be had here. Limbs and assorted viscera formed a trail to the Queen of Blades. Sons and daughters now slaughtered and left unrecognizable by even Omni himself. Scattered across the killing field silver-grey crests glittered beneath the blood and muck, each one an oath carried unto death. Strazio thumbed at the simple crest around his neck. It was heavy. His promise to Demitri and Rumford, pulled tight against his neck. He wrapped his hand around the metal trinket and squeezed until the edges drew blood from his palms. His teeth grinded against one another and his body shimmered with white-hot energy. The Defender of Darkshire sucked air and shouted with as much force as his beleaguered body would allow.

“You,” he bellowed and pointed a crackling finger at the infested female, “what is your name?”

She chuckled for a moment and answered, “I am Sarah Kerrigan, you might know me better as the Queen of Blades.”

“Well, ‘Queen of Blades’,” Strazio shouted, his voice becoming more hoarse by the minute. He stepped past Hiro, who was preoccupied with a nosebleed from hell. “You’ve made a terrible fucking mistake coming here,” he continued, his voice trembling.

“Is that so?”

“It is,” he growled, “I’m the defender of these people.”

Kerrigan smirked and wave her hand towards the destruction around them. “It looks like you’ve failed them Strazio,” she said, “though who could blame you? After all you’re only human.”

“I may have failed them,” he shouted, his body now almost completely engulfed by electricity, “but I sold my humanity a long time ago.”

With that declaration Strazio screamed. As he did so his flesh peeled away and vaporized into ash. Beneath his skin a blinding endoskeleton of white-hot hatred seethed. Sharp yellow irises submerged in a pool of dull ebony stared down Sarah Kerrigan. Only once every last scrap of skin was burned away did the Avatar act. With a screech that sounded not entirely unlike microphone feedback the Strazio charged forth.

Kerrigan edged away from her assaulter and flung whatever her mind could grasp at him. Swords, shields, limbs, and other assorted chunks of battlefield debris careened towards the rampaging battering ram. He chose to ignore the smaller objects, taking the impacts head-on, while he fired buckshot bursts of wild energy at anything larger and/or sharper than a grapefruit. As a final defense Sarah threw her wings forward, and braced for impact. A stomach-turning squelch slithered across the battlefield as Strazio impaled himself upon her wings, taking the points deep into his abdomen. Black blood, thick and viscous boiled forth from his new puncture wounds. Kerrigan extended her wings out and took a half-step back, trying to keep the snarling ball of rage as far away as possible. She tried to pry her blades loose from his gut, but he grasped the spine of her left wing and forced it to stay buried in his gut. For a moment the two played tug-of-war as the Avatar attempted to snap the bony appendage in half. 

“Alright then, you want them” the Queen of Blades hissed, “you can have them.”

Her free wing sunk itself into the Avatar’s shoulder, biting deep like a scorpion tail. Strazio wailed, but kept his grip tight. His body shuddered and seemed to flicker for a moment. He continued screaming and clamped down tighter. The Avatar stepped forward, pushing against Sarah’s considerable strength. Lightning crackled around the two as Strazio stepped forward again, his muscles working overtime. He released one hand and moved it farther up the spine of her wing, closing the distance between the two. She stabbed him again, this time in the leg, but he continued his approach. After a few more steps the two were within arms reach and for a moment neither moved. Kerrigan’s wing twitch and shivered as he pushed with all of her might against the Avatar. 

“Die!” Strazio shouted.

He released her wing and raised a palm to her chest. It all happened in a mere moment, but a moment would last a lifetime in combat. A burst of heat and light erupted from his palm and crashed into her chitinous chest. The force of impact sent the Queen of Blades reeling as the sledgehammer of energy collided against her chest. In the same instance she extended her left wing, flinging Strazio across the battlefield. The two hit the ground simultaneously. Strazio screamed and thrashed about, a torrent of black blood spilling from his gut. Instinctively he rolled onto his knees and dug his hands into the mud. He screamed for a long time before forcing himself to his feet. The fight was not over, but at this rate it wouldn’t last much longer.

924 words on Wordcounter.net
Activating Avatar of Anger (Tier 1 Powered-up form) for 1 round -2 SP
Strazio used Shatter, Overcharge, and Survival
Kerrigan used Telekinesis, and Wing Blades

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee’s breath comes slowly and laboured. His eyelids flutter shut and the clown simply exists for just a moment. The sounds of battle are inescapable, despite the little sectioned off nature of his rap battle. The clang and clatter of steel against steel, the horrifying sound of lives being snuffed out by the dozens, the chants and cheers of rallying soldiers; it all came together into the symphonic, haunting sound that is the sacking of Darkshire.

And above it all, past the immense chaos, Gamzee could very clearly make out the sick beat Dave Strider was providing. It thrummed along at the center of this battle like the heartbeat to a giant, writhing beast. It left a pleasant taste in his mouth.

No, wait, false alarm. That’s just his soda-flavored blood.

“You’re not ready for these ill fires, motherfucker. Shit is all kinds of hype. Kay, Kay, check this shit, yo.”

Gamzee lets the music of the surrounding strife flow into him, lets it take over and flood his veins. The rhymes come to him as naturally as breathing, laughing, and chugging faygo.

“Motherfucker has got some kinna nerve coming up to me,

Cocky ass smirk on his face like he’s got something up his sleeve,

But this time around you will get no fuckin’ reprieve,

My rhymes are so sick they’ll make you all up and heave,

Losin’ your lunch like a little loser punk,

Imma knock those lame ass shades off with this sucker punch,

You be Evander Holyfield and I’ll be Mike Tyson bitch, munch munch munch!

It sucks you’ll be deaf by the time my words beat you to death,

And now you’re fading fast like a junkie who ran out of meth,

The clown gets his last laugh and you get your last breath.”

Oh, they were rolling in it. They being Gamzee and his Darkshire friends, it being the dopest of rhymes.

“I won’t stand for your blasphemy,

After this fight you’re gonna wanna command z,

And actually I should probably emphatically tell you there’s no hope,

You’re climbing up a hella slippery slope, you fuckin’ dope, bend over and grab the soap,

Because I’m already fuckin’ you over, your luck has run out but I’m on my fifth four leaf clover,

It must suck to suck and be stuck in the muck without a fuck to give so just tuck and roll,

As I begin to take my deadly toll, my heart is as black as coal so we’ll need to take a poll to figure out which ladies’ hearts I stole and if you haven’t figured it out I’m on a motherfuckin’ roll!”

Strider takes a moment to groan. He just rhymed roll with roll. It wasn’t even a homophone or homonym or whatever the fuck. Dave ceases his phat beat and rolls his eyes as Gamzee’s half of the circle bursts into cheers. Gamzee smirks, his miracles at work, his poetry a living, breathing force of nature. Dave opens his mouth to defend his honor but the juggalo cuts him off.

“No. You don’t get to speak, punk ass bitch. I’m not done with you, motherfucker,” He spits, and the onlookers hold their breath, waiting for the next verse.

“I’m gonna steal your soul and seal your death, I’m gonna make you suffer,

It’s about to pop off and explode, so duck you sucker,

At the end of it all, you’re nothing more than a jimmie rustler and I’m a lyrical soul plucker,

Get dunked on nerd, yeah you heard that I flipped the bird like I flipped this verse,

And I don’t know what’s worse, I’m descending on you like a bloody curse,

By the time I’m done, bitch, you’ll be in a motherfuckin’ hearse.”

If Gamzee had a mic to drop, he would. The Darkshire soldiers made an excellent hype crew, their cheers and shouts melodically boosting Gamzee’s morale and their own. The troll bumps his fist with a couple of the nearest infantry soldiers as people banged on their shields and raised their fists and swords and voices and it was altogether something quite special.

 Dave rolls his shoulders a few times, cringing at the aches he felt and bruises he knew he had.

“My turn,” He says with finality.


The crowd grows quiet once again at the severity of Dave’s tone. He wasn’t clowning around with this clownish asshole. Gamzee nods, calming himself once again, feeling and fleshing out the flow. He cups his hands to his mouth and begins to set down a sick track. He was indeed acapella as fuck.

765 words on wordcounter

Only move Gamzee used was his sick fires

I'm sorry if the formatting is weird, I had no idea where to begin with formatting verses of a...whatever this is.

[Sarah Kerrigan]

Kerrigan struggled back to her feet, as a sick smile plastered her face. Looking at the enemy in front of her, she took into account all the innumerable injuries they had given her. Countless burns and cuts, holes riddling her legs and abdomen, and a left arm rendered completely useless.

Sarah looked over her injuries with a chuckle.

“You’ve went to such efforts. You’ve put everything you have into stopping me. I’m quite impressed.”

Sarah’s eyes flitted between her opponents, as her chuckling stopped abruptly.

“Congratulations. You’ve actually managed to irritate me.”

Kerrigan walked forward with a vicious glare. A golden aura of energy collected around her body, spilling off her like water that withered all it touched. Plants rotted, rocks crumbled into powder, and any unlucky warrior who found themselves between Sarah and her prey were flung into the nearest wall by an invisible force, be they defender or demon.

 “I’ll reward you appropriately.”

Kerrigan’s mouth half-opened as her eyes gained a predatory edge. A trio of hydralisks erupted from the soil behind her opponents, ejecting a hail of needles at her opponents. Kerrigan simply stood within the crossfire with a confident smile.

“Come now, why not try once more to destroy me? I’m in range, and it’s two on one.” 

While Hiro was forced to dodge, Strazio simply blew the spines away with a howl of rage, and Kerrigan knew that in an instant, the experienced wizard could close the distance, grab onto her skull, and crush her head into powder effortlessly. Sarah, of course, had planned for this.

A chittering sound echoed from underneath the Avatar of Anger, and a fanged maw burst from the ground, grabbing onto his leg, and holding him in place. Zerglings burst through the ground beneath Strazio, slavering jaws clamping onto his legs. Twin blasts of white-hot energy stunned the monstrous creatures, and the Zerg released their grip, but the attack had done it’s job; Strazio turned his gaze back to Sarah just in time for a salvo of needle spines to streak towards the center of his chest and impact with a dull thud.

The golden-white being glared at Kerrigan one last time as he fell to the ground, eerily still.

“Bitch!” A voice yelled from behind her, and Kerrigan turned just in time to see a familiar speedster attacking from her left.

Kerrigan snapped her fingers, and before the man could complete his strike, the sudden appearance of a snake-like monster erupting out from under his feet knocked him over.

“Oh, don’t be so angry. I gave him a warrior’s death. It’s what his kind wish for. You, on the other hand…”

Kerrigan’s face twisted to one of sheer rage, as she delivered a vicious low kick to the prone swordsman's face.The sword-master reeled onto his back from the kick, and Sarah wasted no time in picking him up by the throat and walking towards the wall. An unlucky demon was knocked into Sarah’s way, forced back by a burly Darkshire swordsman. Kerrigan simply glanced at the both of them, and her hydralisk followed the mental command, barrages of needle spines leaving both combatants pinned dead against the wall.

“Are you really having trouble with this rabble? Perhaps you’re not the warriors Illidan spoke of.” Kerrigan stated with a frown, her voice echoing unnaturally across the melee. 

“I was told of warriors that could pulverize Darkshire’s troops into dust, elite soldiers far beyond mortal strength. So far, I’m not impressed.” 

Sarah strode forward, slamming Hiro by the neck into the breached wall, even as she continued.

“I assure you, whatever these defenders do is nothing compared to the fate I will bestow upon cravens and trash.”

Sarah’s sadistic grin returned, as her wings stabbed directly into the upper fat of Hiro’s shoulders. 

“Case in point.” Sarah added, her voice returned to normal volume.

Purposefully, she avoided any vital areas, but Hiro’s answering scream told her that she’d still hit quite a few nerves. Shifting her grip from Hiro’s neck to the front of his face, she lifted the Protagonist up into the air with little effort, before slamming his head against the wall once more. 

“Hiro Protagonist” Sarah spat with naked anger. “I’m afraid your crude humor has ceased to amuse.”

“Y-you bitch…” The man managed to stammer out. Kerrigan merely growled in response. 

“Go ahead. Bark like the whipped pup you are.” 

Kerrigan started walking, dragging the Protagonist’s face against the stone. Killing him in this fashion would have been easy, but she kept the pace just slow enough to merely leave his face a bloody mess. The swordsman let out a muffled, pained scream as his response. Kerrigan’s next move was simply to whip the protesting swordsman by the back of his hair onto the ground. Hiro’s visage was covered in bruises and newly-minted scars, and blood seeped from the man’s wounds.

“You’ve been quite the thorn in my side, I’ll give you that. It’s why you deserve such a humiliating end.”

Kerrigan picked Hiro up by the dreadlocks. Her dagger like wings cut just above his scalp, tearing most of his hair from his head, and dropping the samurai into the dirt once more.

“The next time you think to get in my way, remember this pain. This humiliation.”

The swordsman just stared at Sarah resolutely. Or, more accurately, he stared at something behind the Queen of Blades. Kerrigan’s eyebrow raised in confusion. What was he-

Sudden, debilitating pain arced through Kerrigan’s back, as a billion nerve endings recoiled in agony. 

“Who the hell-” Kerrigan started to say, before looking to her right in shock. 

Next to her was a severed wing, twitching in the mud.

Her severed wing.

Turning around with unmasked rage across her features, Kerrigan saw the glowing face of Strazio glaring back, holding up a spine-covered wrist - the same projectiles Kerrigan believed had shattered the Defender of Darkshire’s collarbone. The unspoken statement could clearly be read in the wizard’s expression.

You missed.

according to Wordcounter.net:

[b]1,000 words 5,915 characters[/b]

Sarah has used her T1 assist: Zerglings for the round (-2 SP, 0/3 SP remaining)
Injuries:
Hiro has a pretty busted face and some shoulder wounds, but they're mostly superficial on purpose. painful and humiliating? Probably, but not in comparison to what I did to his hair : 3.
Strazio also has some hydralisk spines in his wrist, but not in anything particularly vital. Might make it harder to use that hand, but not impossible
Kerrigan has a bleeding nub on her shoulder where one of her wing-blades used to be and has hit the point where she is dealing with the effects of blood loss at this point.

Moves used:
Kerrigan: T1 super-assist: Zerglings, Needle spines, Telekinesis, Wing-blades, physical proficiency, and telepathy to "amplify" her speaking voice.
Strazio: Breach, Shatter, survival.
Hiro: Volcanic glass katana

[Hiro Protagonist]

Hiro coughed, spitting a tooth as he was manhandled by the furious Bitch Queen of the Zerg. His face was scored with deep gashes, jagged chips of stone embedded in his bleeding flesh. He screamed in pain and anger as the ripping sound echoed in his ears, louder than the ringing clash and yells of the battlefield. She'd cut off his dreads! God fucking damnit! Every. Fucking. Time. He couldn't ever just completely triumph over an opponent, could he? He still wasn't strong enough! No, he had to take grievous injuries to his body and hard hits to his pride. He was not quick to anger, no more than any normal man. Certainly not to the level of Strazio, but then again, it gave him power. Power that he'd just been saved by.

The hacker-ronin took the momentary reprieve to edge backwards, each step making his muscles quiver with strain, his energy reserves chugging at the bottom of the tank. He felt a cold, hard feeling on his back, but it was swiftly followed by multiple gauntleted hands on his shoulders that propped him up and squeezed his injured shoulders. "Don't give up, sir! We are holding the gap, and we will die holding it if you fall!" He turned to see a seamless line of militia troops, armor splattered with mud and gore as they gripped their sword. Demons and zombies bit at the sides, but the phanlanx was empowered by the presence of Strazio Rockwell, the Defender of Darkshire himself. They fought ferociously, and with each felled foe, their swords clashed against their shields and a chant went up as the soldiers supporting him pushed him back towards Kerrigan as she dueled with Strazio. "Dark! Shire! Dark! Shire! Dark! Shire!"

There we go. That's what he needed to get his head back in the game. He wiped the broken stone and blood from his face, his lenses still miraculously unbroken if scratched to all hell. He reached up to his shoulder holsters and drew his tanto, unblooded. Kerrigan seemed to have trouble keeping up with his speed, did she? He was drained, incapable of going at overclock speeds again, but he could still run circles around her. He'd sashimi that bitch.

He ran slowly towards her back, Strazio fighting off her assault, the woman reduced to relying on her claws and summoned zerg with her wing severed. Hiro hopped over another jagged chunk of ruined stone, watching the muddy ground churn and erupt into skittering, clicking forms. He hit the brakes, parrying jagged claws and scything mandibles. Burying one tanto into the zergling's "head", he twisted, slicing it's brain in half but not before a claw dug into his thigh, drawing blood and jagged strips of flesh. He bit his lip and turned on his uninjured heel, pirouetting and severing another zerg's abdomen in half. Focus. Focus. Let the pain from the wound clear your mind.

He avoided another swipe as the bug died, and looked up just in time to catch a rusty sword to the torso. Reacting instinctually, he twisted and let the blade cut a shallow groove across his side. Riposting with an almost beautiful scissorcut, he severed the neck of a red eyed, raging black orc and was spattered in hot, gushing blood. He spat the iron-tasting rancid fluid from his lips and zeroed in on Kerrigan, the zerg queen having bested Strazio once more like an expert bullfighter. Hiro would wipe that smirk from her face.


As he flipped his grip on his tanto, Kerrigan suddenly twisted her neck one-hundred eighty degrees, her body swiveling after her to catch his dual blades in her chitinous claws. Hiro grunted, straining against her strength as she smirked like a predatory feeling. "Back for more, clown? Didn't losing your fantastic hairstyle completely strip you of your will to fight?" Hiro glared at her from behind scratched lenses, the blue glow muted from the accrued damage. "You're going to have to do more than that, lady. And you're out of time."

He broke the clash, bending backwards to avoid a swipe from Kerrigan's remaining wing as his muscles screamed at him with the extended effort. He was going to have to take another damn week to rest after this, but he wasn't feeling as ruined as he had during the fight with the Sage. Skipping backwards, he dashed away from Kerrigan and put some distance between them. "Running already, Hiro? I knew you were craven." He turned back towards her and sheathed his katana, raising his wristcomp and typing in a quick shortcut. He extended his palms towards Kerrigan, and moved them in a circle as five spiky orb coalesced into being in front of him. Kerrigan looked highly amused as they started to movs towards her. "Tired? Those look quite slow, hacker." She stepped aside as Hiro punched more commands into his computer, the zerg queen momentarily nonplussed as the orbs tracked her movement at they closed in on her.

Hiro allowed himself one final cocky grin as the commands activated, his anti grav enhancers lightening his frame as he ran forward. Crouching, he made a mighty leap into the air, Kerrigan highlighted in his HUD as she tried to avoid the slowly advancing orbs, grimacing as her zerglings fired pointy spines at them. Two orbs were caught in midair and activated, exploding, but the other three made it to their target. The zerg queen covered her body with a wing but took the full blast head on.

-thwip- -thwip-

The metal tanto sailed through the air at Kerrigan as she looked up, catching one to the midsection and avoiding the other by inches. The descending form of Hiro Protagonist, brandishing his sword in a recklessly powerful slash that carried him right through her, was not avoided so easily.

999 Words according to site.
Hiro Protagonisg used Chernobyl Packet, Enkidu Rising
Sarah Kerrigan used her Assists

Woo, final round! Good luck to everyone else!

[Dave Strider]

Dave held one hand behind his back as the troll roasted his ass in front of the crowd. This shit was going down and there was nothing to stop this landslide of rhymes, but Dave narrowed his eyes and waited his turn, taking his time to counter with his own verses. He took a few slow steps before speaking up.

“A’ight. Now it’s my turn.” He announced with a short stretch. “You just sassed me up.”

“You should know better than to think you can slay me,

Every time I’ll come back and shatter you, quake the ground like its Haiti,

Do you think you’re a dragon because you spit fire?

Well guess what? I’m a Knight, and I’m a part-time firefighter.”

Dave started to smirk, taking another step as he held his arms out to his side.

“So tell me, do you think that your flames will burn bright?

That I’ll turn crispy and charcoal as you set me alight?"

The troll stood silent, staring, daring him to continue.

“Well I am here to tell you that I’m immune to your blight, to my delight, behold my sight, you are right to be in fright at my colossal rap might, you can’t even reach the height requirement to a rider on the rollercoaster with Dave Strider, hell, our skill gap can’t even get any wider.”

The troll began to clench his fists. This fucker was good. He was starting to remember the rap they had so long ago. This was gonna be a tough battle.

“But here, let me go ahead and slow it dooowwwnn” Dave spoke as he reached out and grabbed his Timetable, slowing time for himself as much as he could, just barely able slow his pace and lower his pitch.

“Gamzee, the fucking clown,

I’m telling you know you’re gonna drown,

Screaming and clawing while I’m steaming and thawing,

With a rap and a diss I’m gonna erupt like Hephaestus is pissed!

Can’t take the heat, then welcome to my land,

Watch the clockwork or you might catch some hands,

My class is the Knight of Time, but I’ll tell about my secret crime

I double as the Lord of Rhyme.”

Dave walked to the side as he rapped, his Timetable scratching as Dave was brought back to speed, his pitch returning to normal as the crowd raised their hands to their mouths as “oohs” echoed through them, preparing for the next verse.

“Let me bring back the speed and call out to Darkshire,

Cuz you are nothing to them but a protector for hire,

They’re not the only ones that will burn on the pyre,

So don’t be afraid to run if the situation gets dire.

After all I see you’re in a state of distress, and I can say I’m not impressed, so unless you posses an amount of repressed finesse than your success is just oppressed by your inability to process these mad rhymes so just confess and denounce your useless juggalo shit and maybe you can hope to address the mess that you attempted to aggress on the best.”

Dave could see the sweat forming on the Juggalo's brow. These fast paced rhymes were getting to him. The flow, the rhythm, it was all so pristine. Dave knew everything depended on the fires that he spewed forth. The bruns he inflicted. The rhymes he spat. His life was on the line, as was his reputation.

“Let finish this roast, telling you that you’re toast, I’ll boast about turning you into a ghost because I’ve gone grimdark, predatory like a shark I do not bark I bite, I’ll leave a mark, so let's embark on the road that will leave you in showered sparks, snuff you out like a candle, something you can’t even handle, you’ve been crippled by the scandal of this vandal so let me leave you to die, writhing in your own self-pity from my witty knitty gritty that dwarfs your itty bitty committee of rhythm and rhyme, so let me ask you one more time, Darkshire…”

Dave spit out a clump of blood that had formed in his mouth from the wounds earlier, holding his broken sword out in front of him like a mic, letting it clatter to the floor, his red eyes piercing forward. “Can you feel my fire?”

723 words according to google docs
make them fiyahs burrrrnnnnn

[Sarah Kerrigan]

Kerrigan’s good hand clutched at the tanto embedded in her midsection. Briefly, she considered pulling out the metal blade, but her mind knew her biological limits better than any human could understand, and it took her only a nano-second to calculate that removing the knife would only bring her twelve seconds closer to death from loss of vital fluid.

Kerrigan raised her head to see the defiant eyes of the shaved swordmaster. She’d thought to break his spirit, and for a moment, it had seemed she had succeeded. Count on Darkshire’s weakest soldiers to give inspiration. Kerrigan realized it, then, the error she’d made at a crucial moment!


Humans were weak. They gave in to fear, anger, hatred. They fought with neither the savagery and unyielding focus of the zerg, or the more than mechanical precision and discipline of the protoss, but they retained one thing neither race held. Their spirit, their beliefs, changed on a dime, and one Terran could reinforce the power of another with just a sentence… and in the Omniverse, it seemed this power had only been amplified.

The idea that she, Sarah Kerrigan, had made a mistake burned in her heart, and the fact that the fault was hers did absolutely nothing to dissuade her from pinning it on the advancing swordsman.

Hiro Protagonist - a ridiculous name, and a ridiculous excuse for a warrior. She could somewhat excuse Strazio’s capabilities - for now, the prime was far superior to her in power - , but that this wretched little upstart would be allowed to take any credit for defeating the Queen of Blades…

Kerrigan could feel the seeds of hatred burning in her soul keenly, and her face showed her unmasked hatred in full view now, unfettered by her scraps of self-control. “You’ve made yourself a powerful enemy, trash.”

“Powerful?” Was the expected reply. “I just see some powerless bitch who just got shanked, and looks just about to fall over.”

“Sarah Kerrigan.” A second, growling response came from behind the Infested terran. It seemed Strazio had taken her back at this point, too. “There’s no point to capturing a monster like you. It’s over.”

Kerrigan’s patience had worn thin, and every bit of her being burned with the desire to go out in a blaze of hatred. It was clear the enemy had defeated her completely. Her forces could not push in. Her enemies were still in fighting condition. She was dying, even with her superior body and mind. An ascended being, brought to earth by simpering primitives.

Her cooler, zerg-based thought processes went into overdrive, though, dispersing much of her emotional instability. This was the outcome she’d expected, one of the outcomes she’d seen as a possibility from the beginning. Stormrage’s plan had never been particularly sound in the first place. Instead of cutting off Darkshire from aid and settling in for a lengthy siege, he’d attempted to push into a heavily fortified experience, blitzing a fortress that had no aid to expect. It was almost like-

Kerrigan’s eyes widened. “Of course.” She muttered to herself, her grin returning. “Well well well… I didn’t think it possible. So we were both using one another, Stormrage?” Kerrigan stated with a grin. The private discussions. The necromancy she knew didn’t originate from him. The strange rush to battle. Perhaps it was merely impatience, but Illidan seemed too intelligent for that.

No. This onslaught was meant to be as destructive to the attackers as it was the defenders. Kerrigan had been using this as a test run, to examine both her capabilities, and her future opponents. The resistance she’d meet and her rate of growth. Meanwhile, Stormrage had been using it as a massacre of what she had to assume were two equally unwanted groups.
It was genius, but Kerrigan still found herself resenting the fact she’d gone along with his plot.

Kerrigan could have screamed, but all she could manage to do was cough up blackened ichor instead.

“It… seems as though you’ve managed to leave me at death’s door.” Kerrigan stated, her face looking suddenly crestfallen. “Quite an accomplishment… for trash.” Sarah stated, noting that Strazio had once again taken on the form of a human. She couldn’t see him - in truth, her sight was growing dimmer by the second as it was - but she noticed the lack of a glow in the muddy water they fought within.

Hiro’s gaze didn't waver. Obviously, the swordsman expected some trick, and he kept walking forward, raising his katana for what Kerrigan knew to be the death blow. She circled slowly away from the samurai hacker. Her positioning had to be perfect, after all.

“I’ll… reward you appropriately… if only out of spite.” Kerrigan stated with a genuine tinge of rage to her features. “I’ll tell you… who’s banner I followed… and where they came from.”

That stopped Hiro in his tracks, and a lack of footsteps behind her told her Strazio had done the same. Kerrigan tried to find the energy to smile, but standing was already hard, and speaking bordered on impossible, so she settled for looking Hiro in the eye.

“His name is Illidan Stormrage. An elf, clad in tattoos, and filled with demonic energies… a prime. He…” Kerrigan stumbled, catching herself with her good arm, as her mouth began to leak an unpleasant black fluid. “Made his base in… Poenari castle. A place he’s… likely going to return to, for one reason or another.”

“And you’re telling us all this, why?” Hiro asked, finding the information a little dubious. “You think you can buddy up after everything you’ve done to these people, bitch? Pathetic.”

This time, Kerrigan did find the energy to smile. “You pathetic little worm… I’m just making sure… I pay him back for using me…” Kerrigan replied. “I’ve no interest in aiding you… but if you’ve interest in securing your… pathetic little realm… he is the head of the snake. That’s all… I have to offer you.”

Kerrigan closed her eyes for a moment, and briefly, it seemed like she was going to keel over.

Instead, her eyes burst to life, as she stood up straight once more, a Hydralisk pushing through the ground behind her. “Well… Almost.” Kerrigan said with a grin, as the zerg creature shot it’s needle spines.

A feeling of intense pain shot across Kerrigan’s body, as the spines pierced through her back, and cut through her heart like so much paper, the deadly darts rocketing out of Kerrigan’s body, and at Hiro’s face.


The ronin’s face changed to one of surprise as he reflexively dove out of the way of the attack. Even taken by surprise, though, the protagonist managed to evade the surprise attack, smirking as he did so.

“He! What a pathetic-” Hiro began to chide, but he was cut of by the satisfying sounds of Hiro’s voice catching in his throat. Kerrigan fell to the ground, feeling her motor control rapidly leaving her, even as she heard Hiro’s cry. She couldn’t see what she’d hit, but she knew she’d lined up the shot perfectly. The insipid little sycophant who had spoken up before, the man who had inspired Hiro to get up once again, had been her real target all along. Taking Hiro out would have been a useless endeavour in the first place - Strazio would have destroyed her regardless of if she succeeded, and the meddlesome ronin would have simply returned to life a little while before she did.

A rabble-rouser like that useless guardsman, on the other hand? She could silence him, and what threat he’d created, permanently, and the hydralisk spines that penetrated through the bastard’s braincase would see to that without fail.

Kerrigan’s laugh continued even as her body fell to the ground. “Yet another life… you… could have saved....” Kerrigan added with a mocking laugh. “Keep playing at… being a hero… while everyone… dies… around you…” She taunted. “In the end… you’re just a… murderer… with a sword… aren’t you?” Kerrigan asked.

She’d lost this battle, she knew, but the battle was inconsequential. The war had started, and with this fight, she’d already gained the advantage. The scars on her body were nothing, compared to the scars she’d left on this city, and while this fight had cost them so many men, and so much pain, all Kerrigan had lost were expendable troops and an easily regained life.
So it was that The Queen of Blades continued to chuckle to herself, hearing Hiro’s cry of rage, only stopping when her head was severed from her neck by a flash of steel.

------Kerrigan is dead and will regenerate in the nexus in one week------
Any remaining zerg forces will go berserk, fighting with an increased strength and savagery, but not recognizing friend and foe. They now lack self-preservation but fight without regard for their own lives, becoming far more dangerous.
Everyone may now react as they wish.

---

[Hiro Protagonist]

With the meaty, crackling chop, Hiro's sword severed Kerrigan's head from her neck. Vengeance or justice, it didn't make a difference. She was a spiteful, hateful thing, targeting someone she knew could not survive her cancerous spines.

The wind and rain blew over the battlefield, most of Illidan's forces retreating, the assault broken. Kerrigan's zerg screeched as one, starting to turn on each other, attacking defenders and assaulters alike. Hiro took the opportunity to take out his frustration on the crazed underlings, to scour the insects from life and finish this fucking war.

Murderer with a sword, was he? Hypocritical words, coming from some intergalactic despot who twisted humans into sick, scrabbling insects. Her words were wind. They meant nothing. The damage to his pride came from being tested over and over and still finding himself wanting. He could have taken that volley of spines and spared the soldier if he were stronger.

Something to think about. That was the only lesson he wanted to focus on. The need to get stronger, and faster, to eliminate danger as fast as executing a key command.

Some time later, as he was trudging across the battlefield back towards the main gate. The rusted, unmoving form of Okor, frozen in death, arm raised defiantly and head slumped forward. He died standing, and the emaciated, bleeding forms of his cultists were regarding the body reverently, sharpening rusty knives. He recognized the glint in their eyes. A hungry glint. Oh well, waste not, want not.

"See ya in a few days, bud." The hacker mumbled to himself. That answered the question of where he would go next. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to sit on the couch and feel sorry for himself. Coruscant felt...intimidating, at the moment. He still had to face remedial training and an advisory board for his failure on Cinnabar. The incident had sparked harsh diplomatic penalties and scuttled any favorable outcome for the Empire.

He just wanted to get out of this dreary fucking 'verse.

The events following passed in a blur for Hiro, the hacker moody and pensive, the atmosphere of the Pale Moors coloring his attitude. They gave him a medal as thanks for helping defend the town, telling him he was welcome as a friend to Darkshire and that the combined Prime forces had turned the battle into a rout. Which made him feel slightly better. He'd saved the town from annihilation with his own blood and flesh.

It was with a conflicted maelstrom of emotions that he loaded bottles of strong ale from the tavern into the trunk of his car, the militia having thoughtfully towed it into an empty stable. He'd been given another bundle by the grateful populace, this one containing a tent and camping supplies. Best thing to do was camp out near the fountain and wait for Okor to show up again.

The plague marine was not what most would refer to as polite company, but the hacker felt a sense of purpose that was infectious. Okor knew what he was doing, every action he took. He wasn't crippled by indecision and apathy like Hiro had been for most of his adult life. If he was going to learn something that gave him agency in the Omniverse, it would be from Okor.

And with that thought, The Deliverator peeled out of Darkshire, on a straight shot to the Nexus gate.