12-07-2015, 06:31 PM
Whining?
The sorcerer parried an oncoming strike and used his leverage to stagger the child.
“[i}You[/i] are bitching to me about having to start from scratch?” Before Adam’s shitty little face could spit out a response, Shang belched a mouthful of flames at him. The faux human avoided the burning stream from striking him full on, but some of the fire scorched through one of his sleeves. As the youth smacked out the embers, the sorcerer stepped forward and drilled him with a kick square in the center of his face, smashing his spectacles into his pale flesh.
Adam hit the ground a few yards away, but his supernatural awareness still let him roll back and free from the path of an oncoming fireball. “Fucking bullshit.” The false child seethed as he brushed away some dirt and glass from the center of his face, creating a few small smears of crimson across his pallid features.
“You think you’re the only on to have lost part of themselves in this place?” Shang sneered as he stalked forward and swung the scintillating energy saber down at his foe’s face. Adam brought up his own weapon, and the two were left glaring at each other through the X created by their blades. “I spent a thousand years building my strength. One thousand years of defeated adversaries. One thousand years of victories. One thousand years of growing power.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Adam asked as a faint smile spread across his face.
Before Shang could respond, his opponent deactivated his energy sword, causing the sorcerer to pitch forward. With a little too much spring in his step—too fast, doesn’t make sense—Adam rolled out from under his opponent, scrambled up to his feet, and swung his reactivated lightsaber across Shang’s chest twice in rapid succession.
The sorcerer howled as he stumbled backwards, his robes falling away to reveal a gruesome red-black slash in his chest bordered by scorched, bubbling flesh. Despite the heat of the weapon, only the edges of the wound had been burnt shut, and the deep red center started to ooze blood that hissed and sputtered the moment it touched the red-hot skin.
For his part, Adam winced at the sight of the man’s skin, which resembled microwaved plastic. “You should get that looked at.”
As Shang lifted his face to shout an insult at the petulant whelp, his opponent dashed forward and slammed—shoulder-first—into the older man’s chest. The impact threw the sorcerer into the thick snow with a poof of white dust, and another pained groan tore through the air as the immense cold burned against his exposed skin. It was a form of raw, animal instinct that spurned the downed warrior’s movements as he rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up under his body. Spatters of red and pink dotted the snow under Shang as he put a hand under the pitter-pattering flow of blood.
A few feet away, Adam twirled his lightsaber and started toward Shang, his movements too fast and erratic to follow. Unbeknownst to the approaching youth, there was a faint glimmer in the sorcerer’s ensanguined palm, and as the fake child rushed in to land a fatal blow, the sorcerer fell over and threw out his blood-drenched hand.
Adam Gaite recoiled in horror as the fistful of blood flew at his face, but the surprise gave way to legitimate terror when the fluids sparkled with white energy. As they neared the youth’s face, the fat droplets of shimmering blood erupted like tiny little bombs, some of them first spattering against Adam’s chest and a quickly thrown up forearm before exploding.
While none of the individual blasts were that strong, the amalgamated horde of blood-bombs was more than enough force to drive a stunned, battered Adam Gaite into the snow and leave him writhing as his torn flesh seethed in agony.
“Tell me how it feels.” Shang hissed as he rose from the ground.
Through blurred eyes, the youth watched as sparks of energy arced across the gruesome wounds on the sorcerer’s chest. The former monk’s right eye twitched as the heat burned shut the wounds, sealing them shut for the moment.
Although his knees wobbled, Adam made it to his feet. “Smells so terrible.”
Although he hated the child now more than ever, Shang begrudgingly accepted that there was truth in those smarmy words. The air around them was heavy with a foul stench close to that of undercooked barbeque.
The sorcerer parried an oncoming strike and used his leverage to stagger the child.
“[i}You[/i] are bitching to me about having to start from scratch?” Before Adam’s shitty little face could spit out a response, Shang belched a mouthful of flames at him. The faux human avoided the burning stream from striking him full on, but some of the fire scorched through one of his sleeves. As the youth smacked out the embers, the sorcerer stepped forward and drilled him with a kick square in the center of his face, smashing his spectacles into his pale flesh.
Adam hit the ground a few yards away, but his supernatural awareness still let him roll back and free from the path of an oncoming fireball. “Fucking bullshit.” The false child seethed as he brushed away some dirt and glass from the center of his face, creating a few small smears of crimson across his pallid features.
“You think you’re the only on to have lost part of themselves in this place?” Shang sneered as he stalked forward and swung the scintillating energy saber down at his foe’s face. Adam brought up his own weapon, and the two were left glaring at each other through the X created by their blades. “I spent a thousand years building my strength. One thousand years of defeated adversaries. One thousand years of victories. One thousand years of growing power.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Adam asked as a faint smile spread across his face.
Before Shang could respond, his opponent deactivated his energy sword, causing the sorcerer to pitch forward. With a little too much spring in his step—too fast, doesn’t make sense—Adam rolled out from under his opponent, scrambled up to his feet, and swung his reactivated lightsaber across Shang’s chest twice in rapid succession.
The sorcerer howled as he stumbled backwards, his robes falling away to reveal a gruesome red-black slash in his chest bordered by scorched, bubbling flesh. Despite the heat of the weapon, only the edges of the wound had been burnt shut, and the deep red center started to ooze blood that hissed and sputtered the moment it touched the red-hot skin.
For his part, Adam winced at the sight of the man’s skin, which resembled microwaved plastic. “You should get that looked at.”
As Shang lifted his face to shout an insult at the petulant whelp, his opponent dashed forward and slammed—shoulder-first—into the older man’s chest. The impact threw the sorcerer into the thick snow with a poof of white dust, and another pained groan tore through the air as the immense cold burned against his exposed skin. It was a form of raw, animal instinct that spurned the downed warrior’s movements as he rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up under his body. Spatters of red and pink dotted the snow under Shang as he put a hand under the pitter-pattering flow of blood.
A few feet away, Adam twirled his lightsaber and started toward Shang, his movements too fast and erratic to follow. Unbeknownst to the approaching youth, there was a faint glimmer in the sorcerer’s ensanguined palm, and as the fake child rushed in to land a fatal blow, the sorcerer fell over and threw out his blood-drenched hand.
Adam Gaite recoiled in horror as the fistful of blood flew at his face, but the surprise gave way to legitimate terror when the fluids sparkled with white energy. As they neared the youth’s face, the fat droplets of shimmering blood erupted like tiny little bombs, some of them first spattering against Adam’s chest and a quickly thrown up forearm before exploding.
While none of the individual blasts were that strong, the amalgamated horde of blood-bombs was more than enough force to drive a stunned, battered Adam Gaite into the snow and leave him writhing as his torn flesh seethed in agony.
“Tell me how it feels.” Shang hissed as he rose from the ground.
Through blurred eyes, the youth watched as sparks of energy arced across the gruesome wounds on the sorcerer’s chest. The former monk’s right eye twitched as the heat burned shut the wounds, sealing them shut for the moment.
Although his knees wobbled, Adam made it to his feet. “Smells so terrible.”
Although he hated the child now more than ever, Shang begrudgingly accepted that there was truth in those smarmy words. The air around them was heavy with a foul stench close to that of undercooked barbeque.
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)