Siege of Darkshire - The Breach

[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