02-24-2017, 11:49 PM
It wasn't long before Tearen was once again standing on the cracked and pitted granite tiles of the arena floor. The carnage from the fights earlier in the day had been swept away quite gruesomely by what Tearen could only describe as a heard of giant fleas. A few had even become so frenzied by the feast of blood that they had sprung all the way up into the stands, where audience members milled around between matches. Even these errant displays of carnage were enough to elicit cries of encouragement from the enraptured masses. Honestly, Tearen was getting rather tired of feeling the waves of their bloodlust wash over his mind. It was distracting, and he had been trying to harness the new powers of regeneration evident in his body.
While the gently glowing wounds on his body had indeed repaired themselves to an appreciable extent, using the ability left the Shadow drained and wanting of sustenance of some kind. For some reason, however, he couldn't find the palette to consider trying some of Azgradurg's concessions, no matter how much Ilthiax espoused their succulence. Instead, the ex-enigma had to content himself with using his reserves of Omnilium to sustain the needs of this ailing body. Hopefully after Gamil was vanquished there would be time for an adequate amount of rest.
The echoing warhorn of Azgradurg sounded, calling spectators and warriors alike back to their seats. Tearen remained perfectly still on the battlefield, but had already summoned Enigma to his side. Though the wound had healed, the painful memory of surprise from the previous qualifying round still stung badly. The Shadow would not allow himself to be caught off guard again.
...and yet it happened anyway.
At the opposite end of the arena, Gamil strode forth. His immense bulk stood ten feet tall, and that was with a hunched posture. The ancient human barely had any skin left worth mentioning, and what little of it was visible was only around his toothy mouth. The rest of his face and body was obscured by heavy, pale plates of what appeared to be bone. It rattled and clunked loudly as he stepped into the arena, showered by a hail of demonic praise. Though the helm did not have any eyeholes visible, Tearen could feel the Knight of Hatred's gaze upon him. Gamil's inverse sickle weapon dragged listlessly along the ground, digging up small jets of sparks with each step. Overall, he seemed slow and clumsy. This wasn't what caught Tearen off guard, however.
Once Gamil reached his starting position, a loud voice blared over the roaring crowd. It was a harsh, mechanical voice, and one that Tearen recognized. Ilthiax.
"A notification to Gamil, the Knight of Hatred and Tearen Wover of Grooota. Let our fine combatants be advised that there had been a slight...amendment to the rules of this match."
Tearen scowled up at the viewing box, where he could just make out Ilthiax's bulging red corpulence presiding on a skull encrusted balcony. Of course. Last round there had been a surprise attack, and this round there would be a last minute change to the rules. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but what shocked Tearen most was that Ilthiax of all people was the one to impose it. The fat cyborg must have known that doing so was effectively signing his own death sentence, should the Shadow ever get a hold of the fat coward in the future.
"For the duration of this particular match, any abilities that grant flight or levitation of any kind will result in immediate disqualification."
A murmur of disapproval ran through the crowd. Curious, Tearen reached out with a filament of telepathic intent and tasted the emotions of the collected demons. A fair number of them had been looking forward to the ex-enigma's graceful aerial tactics. Could it be that he was starting to gain fans, of all things? Tearen had experienced many things during his tenure as a God-Mind, but he never in all of infinity had ever been able to claim that he had fans. It felt...nice.
"Begin."
Tearen lifted Engima to a rear guard position and advanced towards Gamil with patient strides. The towering opponent did the same, and whipped his great sickle around so that its hook faced forwards. The Shadow had to resist the immediate urge to float forwards in a flying advance. This was going to be trickier than he thought. On top of that, Gamil didn't appear to have any sort of flight capabilities whatsoever, so the last minute addendum was clearly meant only to impose on Tearen. Wonderful.
The Knight of Hatred opened with a wild, heavy swing that was easily sidestepped. The Knight wheezed loudly as he ripped the sickle's point out of the ground where it had embedded itself and tried to backhand Tearen with his weapon hand as he did so. The Shadow held Engima vertically and braced against the halberd. The eldritch metals held fast, but the force of the blow shoved Tearen several feet to his left. The rasping sound of his feet sliding through the dust was matched in pitch by Gamil's uncertain breathing. The bone-plated knight's mouth tended to twitch and tremble, his jaw snapping every so often. The fact that such a geriatric soul was able to even consider combat to the death was astonishing.
"Heard a bit about you, old boy." Gamil said, his voice musty and flat. Tearen tilted his head, but made a quick lunging attack to Gamil's flank while keeping the blade of the sickle bound with the halberd's axe-head. The strength of Gamil was such that he simply wrenched the inverted sickle free, causing Tearen to almost lose his grasp on Engima. Tearen followed through on the momentum, however, and swiped at Gamil's midsection. The two-handed blow simply glanced off of the thick bone plating with a dull clang.
"Heard you were persistent. Had lots of good tricks up your sleeve." Gamil continued, readjusting his grip as Tearen tried to thrust the spear head between Gamil's plates. The Knight of Hatred simply slapped the blow aside with a gauntleted hand in a movement that seemed almost effortless. Another withering blow was brought down on Tearen's head as Gamil made a clumsy, vertical chop. The Shadow was able to block with a bubble of distorted space just before being cloven in two. The immaterial nature of the shield caused the blade of the sickle to glance off awkwardly, and Gamil stumbled to his right. Seeing as cutting force simply wasn't doing the job, Tearen stepped inside Gamil's range of attack and delivered a sharp blow to the armored hulk's center of mass. The telekinetic thrust caused Gamil to thunder backwards for a few strides before catching his balance, but in the end, it still had no real effect.
The distance between them did give Tearen a moment to breathe, however.
"I've seen your tricks too. Pity there are no bodies on the field for your necromancy. I require no such...baggage...to remain potent." Tearen taunted, switching his lead hand with the halberd to his right. Gamil let out a long, raspy laugh as a blue light began to gather in his distorted sickle.
"Necromancer? Is that what you think?" the Knight of Hatred wheezed...
While the gently glowing wounds on his body had indeed repaired themselves to an appreciable extent, using the ability left the Shadow drained and wanting of sustenance of some kind. For some reason, however, he couldn't find the palette to consider trying some of Azgradurg's concessions, no matter how much Ilthiax espoused their succulence. Instead, the ex-enigma had to content himself with using his reserves of Omnilium to sustain the needs of this ailing body. Hopefully after Gamil was vanquished there would be time for an adequate amount of rest.
The echoing warhorn of Azgradurg sounded, calling spectators and warriors alike back to their seats. Tearen remained perfectly still on the battlefield, but had already summoned Enigma to his side. Though the wound had healed, the painful memory of surprise from the previous qualifying round still stung badly. The Shadow would not allow himself to be caught off guard again.
...and yet it happened anyway.
At the opposite end of the arena, Gamil strode forth. His immense bulk stood ten feet tall, and that was with a hunched posture. The ancient human barely had any skin left worth mentioning, and what little of it was visible was only around his toothy mouth. The rest of his face and body was obscured by heavy, pale plates of what appeared to be bone. It rattled and clunked loudly as he stepped into the arena, showered by a hail of demonic praise. Though the helm did not have any eyeholes visible, Tearen could feel the Knight of Hatred's gaze upon him. Gamil's inverse sickle weapon dragged listlessly along the ground, digging up small jets of sparks with each step. Overall, he seemed slow and clumsy. This wasn't what caught Tearen off guard, however.
Once Gamil reached his starting position, a loud voice blared over the roaring crowd. It was a harsh, mechanical voice, and one that Tearen recognized. Ilthiax.
"A notification to Gamil, the Knight of Hatred and Tearen Wover of Grooota. Let our fine combatants be advised that there had been a slight...amendment to the rules of this match."
Tearen scowled up at the viewing box, where he could just make out Ilthiax's bulging red corpulence presiding on a skull encrusted balcony. Of course. Last round there had been a surprise attack, and this round there would be a last minute change to the rules. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but what shocked Tearen most was that Ilthiax of all people was the one to impose it. The fat cyborg must have known that doing so was effectively signing his own death sentence, should the Shadow ever get a hold of the fat coward in the future.
"For the duration of this particular match, any abilities that grant flight or levitation of any kind will result in immediate disqualification."
A murmur of disapproval ran through the crowd. Curious, Tearen reached out with a filament of telepathic intent and tasted the emotions of the collected demons. A fair number of them had been looking forward to the ex-enigma's graceful aerial tactics. Could it be that he was starting to gain fans, of all things? Tearen had experienced many things during his tenure as a God-Mind, but he never in all of infinity had ever been able to claim that he had fans. It felt...nice.
"Begin."
Tearen lifted Engima to a rear guard position and advanced towards Gamil with patient strides. The towering opponent did the same, and whipped his great sickle around so that its hook faced forwards. The Shadow had to resist the immediate urge to float forwards in a flying advance. This was going to be trickier than he thought. On top of that, Gamil didn't appear to have any sort of flight capabilities whatsoever, so the last minute addendum was clearly meant only to impose on Tearen. Wonderful.
The Knight of Hatred opened with a wild, heavy swing that was easily sidestepped. The Knight wheezed loudly as he ripped the sickle's point out of the ground where it had embedded itself and tried to backhand Tearen with his weapon hand as he did so. The Shadow held Engima vertically and braced against the halberd. The eldritch metals held fast, but the force of the blow shoved Tearen several feet to his left. The rasping sound of his feet sliding through the dust was matched in pitch by Gamil's uncertain breathing. The bone-plated knight's mouth tended to twitch and tremble, his jaw snapping every so often. The fact that such a geriatric soul was able to even consider combat to the death was astonishing.
"Heard a bit about you, old boy." Gamil said, his voice musty and flat. Tearen tilted his head, but made a quick lunging attack to Gamil's flank while keeping the blade of the sickle bound with the halberd's axe-head. The strength of Gamil was such that he simply wrenched the inverted sickle free, causing Tearen to almost lose his grasp on Engima. Tearen followed through on the momentum, however, and swiped at Gamil's midsection. The two-handed blow simply glanced off of the thick bone plating with a dull clang.
"Heard you were persistent. Had lots of good tricks up your sleeve." Gamil continued, readjusting his grip as Tearen tried to thrust the spear head between Gamil's plates. The Knight of Hatred simply slapped the blow aside with a gauntleted hand in a movement that seemed almost effortless. Another withering blow was brought down on Tearen's head as Gamil made a clumsy, vertical chop. The Shadow was able to block with a bubble of distorted space just before being cloven in two. The immaterial nature of the shield caused the blade of the sickle to glance off awkwardly, and Gamil stumbled to his right. Seeing as cutting force simply wasn't doing the job, Tearen stepped inside Gamil's range of attack and delivered a sharp blow to the armored hulk's center of mass. The telekinetic thrust caused Gamil to thunder backwards for a few strides before catching his balance, but in the end, it still had no real effect.
The distance between them did give Tearen a moment to breathe, however.
"I've seen your tricks too. Pity there are no bodies on the field for your necromancy. I require no such...baggage...to remain potent." Tearen taunted, switching his lead hand with the halberd to his right. Gamil let out a long, raspy laugh as a blue light began to gather in his distorted sickle.
"Necromancer? Is that what you think?" the Knight of Hatred wheezed...
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued