12-22-2017, 04:41 AM
“Well.” The Sage leaned up against the wall of a building, facing the young blue alien. The aging scholar pulled a pipe from the recesses of his robe, and began searching for his pouch.
“What in the name of the Grimmest Shades of the Southern wind are you?” The Sage demanded. Graowr looked at him with an air of benevolent confusion, her head cocked slightly to one side.
“Huh? A what now?” she asked, barely after the Sage closed his mouth. The loremaster sighed, there was no way she could have processed his question in that interim.
“What are you? If we are waiting for morning then we must do something to pass the time.” He barked with a gesture towards the abandoned street around them. The Sage’s manner was perhaps terser than was wise, but he was getting tired of people opposing his progress with incompetence.
“I’m a Hero!” the Majin declared, with an assertive confidence that the Sage had not yet experienced from the blue young lady. He slumped a little. While the zeal of her response was unexpected given his prior interactions, the answer was not as enlightening as he had hoped it would be. hold the hand of your friend, but the arm of your enemy. Until I know where you are aiming my little azure fighter, I cannot forget that…
“…That’s fair enough, I suppose. I wouldn’t doubt that the winner of Karl Jak’s game would be anything less.” He said, watching the majin’s face carefully.
Her features were muted, as if an immature diety had attempted to create their own likeness, and had decided not to get a second opinion. There was no nose to speak of, no eyebrows, barely anything to even read emotions from. Still he could tell from the shattering of her prior stance, and the slight slump to her posture at the mentioning of Dante’s Abyss that the fighting had taken its toll on her as well.
Not emotionless then… and with your degree of power…perhaps you are a hero indeed… he mused to himself. The Majin’s far away gaze refocused on him after a moment of recollection, and the Sage refocused his attention on the conversation.
“You wanted me to kill you.” She stated, drawing the Sage back towards his own dealings with the Abyss, “You were so close to being dead already before we even started that fight. You could have just given me the artifact and been fine.” The large red eyes bored into him, the face as difficult to read as always.
“That was a cruel thing to do.” She pronounced after a short silence. The Sage didn’t have a good answer to her accusation. She stood there with crossed arms, staring at him.
“I was spiteful.” He said, eventually, moving to sit on a low wall that had seen better days a decade ago, “I had just seen a small girl barely into her second decade get her throat torn out by a supernatural monster. I had never expected to survive in a tournament of killers, and I had chosen to take that path. I cannot imagine that she was told the whole truth about what she was getting into.”
“We were always meant to be entertainment. A blood sport for the most all-encompassing coliseum imaginable. I did not expect them to be training lambs for the slaughter. The powers at hand looked on and did nothing as a young girl was devoured. All in their desire for unadulterated bloodshed. What right had I to deny them the final moments of a half dead old man? We were there to fight, so I fought.” He shrugged. It was a petty response once you said it out loud, but he wouldn’t choose differently now.
The majin didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the response, but didn’t choose to press him further on the matter, just shrugging to herself and glancing skywards.
“Its still not daytime yet.” She stated, impatiently.
tremendous power yet a child’s temperament. Oblivious as a puissant scholar, but able to play my nerves well enough to illicit a speech…
The Sage shook his head.
“I don’t think that will be the worst of our problems.”
“What in the name of the Grimmest Shades of the Southern wind are you?” The Sage demanded. Graowr looked at him with an air of benevolent confusion, her head cocked slightly to one side.
“Huh? A what now?” she asked, barely after the Sage closed his mouth. The loremaster sighed, there was no way she could have processed his question in that interim.
“What are you? If we are waiting for morning then we must do something to pass the time.” He barked with a gesture towards the abandoned street around them. The Sage’s manner was perhaps terser than was wise, but he was getting tired of people opposing his progress with incompetence.
“I’m a Hero!” the Majin declared, with an assertive confidence that the Sage had not yet experienced from the blue young lady. He slumped a little. While the zeal of her response was unexpected given his prior interactions, the answer was not as enlightening as he had hoped it would be. hold the hand of your friend, but the arm of your enemy. Until I know where you are aiming my little azure fighter, I cannot forget that…
“…That’s fair enough, I suppose. I wouldn’t doubt that the winner of Karl Jak’s game would be anything less.” He said, watching the majin’s face carefully.
Her features were muted, as if an immature diety had attempted to create their own likeness, and had decided not to get a second opinion. There was no nose to speak of, no eyebrows, barely anything to even read emotions from. Still he could tell from the shattering of her prior stance, and the slight slump to her posture at the mentioning of Dante’s Abyss that the fighting had taken its toll on her as well.
Not emotionless then… and with your degree of power…perhaps you are a hero indeed… he mused to himself. The Majin’s far away gaze refocused on him after a moment of recollection, and the Sage refocused his attention on the conversation.
“You wanted me to kill you.” She stated, drawing the Sage back towards his own dealings with the Abyss, “You were so close to being dead already before we even started that fight. You could have just given me the artifact and been fine.” The large red eyes bored into him, the face as difficult to read as always.
“That was a cruel thing to do.” She pronounced after a short silence. The Sage didn’t have a good answer to her accusation. She stood there with crossed arms, staring at him.
“I was spiteful.” He said, eventually, moving to sit on a low wall that had seen better days a decade ago, “I had just seen a small girl barely into her second decade get her throat torn out by a supernatural monster. I had never expected to survive in a tournament of killers, and I had chosen to take that path. I cannot imagine that she was told the whole truth about what she was getting into.”
“We were always meant to be entertainment. A blood sport for the most all-encompassing coliseum imaginable. I did not expect them to be training lambs for the slaughter. The powers at hand looked on and did nothing as a young girl was devoured. All in their desire for unadulterated bloodshed. What right had I to deny them the final moments of a half dead old man? We were there to fight, so I fought.” He shrugged. It was a petty response once you said it out loud, but he wouldn’t choose differently now.
The majin didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the response, but didn’t choose to press him further on the matter, just shrugging to herself and glancing skywards.
“Its still not daytime yet.” She stated, impatiently.
tremendous power yet a child’s temperament. Oblivious as a puissant scholar, but able to play my nerves well enough to illicit a speech…
The Sage shook his head.
“I don’t think that will be the worst of our problems.”
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Word Count -- This Post: 702 // Total Word Count: 4,100
Character Count -- This Post: 3,893 // Total Character Count: 22,824
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