05-31-2015, 03:50 AM
With Link over his shoulder, Ganondorf powered through the forest away from Gilgamesh and his cronies. Pain shot through his arm at every step, causing spots to dance in front of his eyes and threatening to send him spiraling into unconsciousness. But, he would not, could not, stop running. To stop would be to die. And the Gerudo King was not yet ready to leave this game.
As he ran, Ganon thought about what had happened in that building behind him. He remembered Karl’s voice coming over the speakers, warning of the storm. He remembered seeing the building, and watching dark shadows pass by the windows and concocting the scheme to use that strange ball as a diversion. Everything was going so well too, in the beginning. Until… Gilgamesh. Ganondorf cursed himself for a fool for ever provoking the man. If not for the Gerudo’s pre-game taunting, he may have been able to convince the golden-armored man and his lackey to join forces with himself and Link. And because of his foolishness, they were both in a bad way.
Even over the din of the pelting rain, the thunder, and his own heavy footsteps and breathing, the Demon King could hear the scraping of bone against metal at his left. Blood, both his and Link’s, splattered his armor and the ground, briefly turning the puddles a pink color before the torrential downpour washed it away. Ganondorf knew he couldn’t keep up this pace. That he couldn’t run forever and that he would eventually succumb to his wounds and bloodloss without proper treatment. Yet, no safe haven had yet presented itself to the Gerudo King, and he could not allow Gilgamesh an opportunity to finish him off. The behemoth of a man stumbled in the dark and rain, his wounds beginning to take their toll. First once… then again. Finally, the man fell to his knees, Link slumping off of his shoulder and into the muddy leaves flooring the forest. Ganondorf’s breath was ragged and heavy, his eyes dragging down as his body began to shut down. Yet, through the haze and the downpour, the Gerudo could see, in the canopy, a blinking red light. He had seen many during this event and had been able to deduce that they were what Karl Jak was using to broadcast this event.
Rage flared within his breast, Ganondorf’s lips curling into a snarl. He fought against his body, forcing it to remain kneeling rather than to fall to the forest floor like his companion. To Karl, this was all but a game. A twisted entertainment designed to placate the masses. And so, with eyes full of hate and malice, he shouted at Karl’s device, letting loose his frustrations and fury.
“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!”
As he ran, Ganon thought about what had happened in that building behind him. He remembered Karl’s voice coming over the speakers, warning of the storm. He remembered seeing the building, and watching dark shadows pass by the windows and concocting the scheme to use that strange ball as a diversion. Everything was going so well too, in the beginning. Until… Gilgamesh. Ganondorf cursed himself for a fool for ever provoking the man. If not for the Gerudo’s pre-game taunting, he may have been able to convince the golden-armored man and his lackey to join forces with himself and Link. And because of his foolishness, they were both in a bad way.
Even over the din of the pelting rain, the thunder, and his own heavy footsteps and breathing, the Demon King could hear the scraping of bone against metal at his left. Blood, both his and Link’s, splattered his armor and the ground, briefly turning the puddles a pink color before the torrential downpour washed it away. Ganondorf knew he couldn’t keep up this pace. That he couldn’t run forever and that he would eventually succumb to his wounds and bloodloss without proper treatment. Yet, no safe haven had yet presented itself to the Gerudo King, and he could not allow Gilgamesh an opportunity to finish him off. The behemoth of a man stumbled in the dark and rain, his wounds beginning to take their toll. First once… then again. Finally, the man fell to his knees, Link slumping off of his shoulder and into the muddy leaves flooring the forest. Ganondorf’s breath was ragged and heavy, his eyes dragging down as his body began to shut down. Yet, through the haze and the downpour, the Gerudo could see, in the canopy, a blinking red light. He had seen many during this event and had been able to deduce that they were what Karl Jak was using to broadcast this event.
Rage flared within his breast, Ganondorf’s lips curling into a snarl. He fought against his body, forcing it to remain kneeling rather than to fall to the forest floor like his companion. To Karl, this was all but a game. A twisted entertainment designed to placate the masses. And so, with eyes full of hate and malice, he shouted at Karl’s device, letting loose his frustrations and fury.
“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!”