elarion
10-15-2005, 06:47 PM
((
I wrote this because of this thread:
http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/threa ... post216679 (http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-earthenring&t=216679&p=1&tmp=1#post216679)
))
Cold Blood, Eviscerate: The intent to kill.
---
The Slayer stood alone, his armor in tatters, red ribbons of blood wrapping his body as if it was some sort of macabre gift. Around him, was only death.
"Show yourself!" His words echoed in the dark, unseen reaches of the cavern, as he carefully picked his way through the mass of bodies that had sought to bar his way in life.
A soft breath of wind from his left, and two swords were on him. Dancing back, he caught first one slash, then the other with his own. In a twist he deflected them high, and snapped up his own leg, in a kick to the gut of his attacker. He met only air, as the deflected swords flew through the darkness, clattering as they fell in some corner of the cavern.
"You are too late, the apotheosis is complete. Even your death will be meaningless." A hollow voice spoke out from the darkness.
The Slayer snarled in response, "By giving yourself over to the Fel, you think to defeat it? There is still time. Give up." He held his swords out wide, allowing them to light up with the orange flame pouring out from the runes on their surface.
"I have power now. Power to defeat them. And you standing before me, weak and pathetic, lecture me on how to win? Let me show you what I intend." The orange light from the Slayer's blades illumined a tall, heavily muscled night elf, unremarkable in features but for his two eyes scarred and closed permanently. "I will show you, the Temple's dog, what power we demon hunters have to offer Elune."
The demon hunter roared, his arms becoming swollen, distended, and finally erupting in a shower of gore to reveal dark smoking flesh. A demon's arms, tipped with dangerous dark claws.
The Slayer sprang forward, his flaming blades leading the way. He moved in a rhythym well practiced, attacking with one sword, giving way to defense with another, leading to new openings for attack. The sheer demonic strength of the hunter was too much for him, as he instead used his speed to find openings.
The ground was slick with blood, the Slayer's and that of others. It was only a matter of time before his speed betrayed him. Sliding to his right to avoid a slash from the hunter's claws, he crouched low, to spring up and behind the hunter. This would provide the opening he needed to plunge the blades in the yet mortal torso of the hunter. Steeling himself, he pushed his body forward yet again, but was finally betrayed by his footing. It was all he could do to spin his blades around in a desparate attempt to parry the hunter's inevitable counterattack.
The hunter roared with triumph spinning on his prone foe. His left arm hooked low, came up in a swipe directly through the attempted parry, shattering the metal of the blades. The impact of the explosion threw the Slayer back across the room, saving him from the claws.
The Slayer lay on his back where he had been thrown, his chest lacerated with cuts from the shattered blades, their hilts still gripped tightly in his hands.
"If you were all the strength our people could muster, then we would be doomed. You would not be able to protect them from the Legion." The demon hunter laughed, his voice hollow, echoing through the cavern.
The Slayer rose to a sitting position slowly, taking stock of his situation. His body was broken, he would likely not survive even his current injuries. He had spent too much energy, and lost too much blood. His precious enchanted weapons were shattered. He had naught but a small dagger, and perhaps the energy for one more attack before he collapsed. It was hopeless. He allowed himself to fall back, waiting for the inevitable blow, as the demon hunter stalked closer.
The Slayer closed his eyes, searching in his mind for a way out. Words came to him, unbidden...
The will you posses will be your greatest weapon when you are a Slayer, El'arion. Will is stronger than a legion of blades, it is what shapes the world.
A vision of his master, standing over him, bleeding from a hundred wounds, holding his sword to El'arion's throat.
Arise my pupil, and awaken to reality. The path of the righteous yet awaits.
The Slayer growled, forgetting his pain, and raising himself slowly, casting his shattered swords away. His master had given him a second chance that day. It would not be wasted here.
"I may or may not be able to protect them from the Legion... but I -can- protect them from you."
The demon hunter spit to the side, and with a roar, charged full force at the Slayer, his monstrous arms reaching out to rend him limb from limb.
The Slayer reached to a small sheath at his side, pulling out a small dagger. Crouching to a low stance, he held the dagger behind him, one hand wrapped around the hilt, the other on the pommel. Closing his eyes, he concentrated his will on the dagger. It was not a blade of steel, but a blade of intent. The intent to kill.
As the beast charged him, he stood calm, his will perfectly concentrated, his body's energy collected for one final stroke. A blue glow gathered in his hands, enshrouding them and his dagger. His will became manifest, overwhelming, a tangible thing directed for only one purpose. It collided with the beast, slowing him, and time itself to a snail's pace. A brief instant of time stretched into an eternity, as the Slayer gathered his will for his final stroke.
The Slayer opened his eyes. With two quick steps he covered the distance between them, making the hunter's movements seem clumsy and slow. The dagger arced from behind him upwards, and he released his will, the intent to kill.
The collision ended with an explosion of energy, the demon hunter was thrown back, dead in the air, before he even landed.
The Slayer stood alone once again, surrounded only by death. Before he collapsed, he uttered a single word, "Ash'therod." *
---
((
* As a footnote, the word Ash'therod means 'redemption' in darnassian. It is also the name of El'arion's pet owl. It's sort of a double meaning here, in that he's wondering if he's redeemed himself, and also calling to his owl to go for help.
I intended for this to be short, but as usual, I got carried away writing. :-P
))
-El'arion.
I wrote this because of this thread:
http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/threa ... post216679 (http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-earthenring&t=216679&p=1&tmp=1#post216679)
))
Cold Blood, Eviscerate: The intent to kill.
---
The Slayer stood alone, his armor in tatters, red ribbons of blood wrapping his body as if it was some sort of macabre gift. Around him, was only death.
"Show yourself!" His words echoed in the dark, unseen reaches of the cavern, as he carefully picked his way through the mass of bodies that had sought to bar his way in life.
A soft breath of wind from his left, and two swords were on him. Dancing back, he caught first one slash, then the other with his own. In a twist he deflected them high, and snapped up his own leg, in a kick to the gut of his attacker. He met only air, as the deflected swords flew through the darkness, clattering as they fell in some corner of the cavern.
"You are too late, the apotheosis is complete. Even your death will be meaningless." A hollow voice spoke out from the darkness.
The Slayer snarled in response, "By giving yourself over to the Fel, you think to defeat it? There is still time. Give up." He held his swords out wide, allowing them to light up with the orange flame pouring out from the runes on their surface.
"I have power now. Power to defeat them. And you standing before me, weak and pathetic, lecture me on how to win? Let me show you what I intend." The orange light from the Slayer's blades illumined a tall, heavily muscled night elf, unremarkable in features but for his two eyes scarred and closed permanently. "I will show you, the Temple's dog, what power we demon hunters have to offer Elune."
The demon hunter roared, his arms becoming swollen, distended, and finally erupting in a shower of gore to reveal dark smoking flesh. A demon's arms, tipped with dangerous dark claws.
The Slayer sprang forward, his flaming blades leading the way. He moved in a rhythym well practiced, attacking with one sword, giving way to defense with another, leading to new openings for attack. The sheer demonic strength of the hunter was too much for him, as he instead used his speed to find openings.
The ground was slick with blood, the Slayer's and that of others. It was only a matter of time before his speed betrayed him. Sliding to his right to avoid a slash from the hunter's claws, he crouched low, to spring up and behind the hunter. This would provide the opening he needed to plunge the blades in the yet mortal torso of the hunter. Steeling himself, he pushed his body forward yet again, but was finally betrayed by his footing. It was all he could do to spin his blades around in a desparate attempt to parry the hunter's inevitable counterattack.
The hunter roared with triumph spinning on his prone foe. His left arm hooked low, came up in a swipe directly through the attempted parry, shattering the metal of the blades. The impact of the explosion threw the Slayer back across the room, saving him from the claws.
The Slayer lay on his back where he had been thrown, his chest lacerated with cuts from the shattered blades, their hilts still gripped tightly in his hands.
"If you were all the strength our people could muster, then we would be doomed. You would not be able to protect them from the Legion." The demon hunter laughed, his voice hollow, echoing through the cavern.
The Slayer rose to a sitting position slowly, taking stock of his situation. His body was broken, he would likely not survive even his current injuries. He had spent too much energy, and lost too much blood. His precious enchanted weapons were shattered. He had naught but a small dagger, and perhaps the energy for one more attack before he collapsed. It was hopeless. He allowed himself to fall back, waiting for the inevitable blow, as the demon hunter stalked closer.
The Slayer closed his eyes, searching in his mind for a way out. Words came to him, unbidden...
The will you posses will be your greatest weapon when you are a Slayer, El'arion. Will is stronger than a legion of blades, it is what shapes the world.
A vision of his master, standing over him, bleeding from a hundred wounds, holding his sword to El'arion's throat.
Arise my pupil, and awaken to reality. The path of the righteous yet awaits.
The Slayer growled, forgetting his pain, and raising himself slowly, casting his shattered swords away. His master had given him a second chance that day. It would not be wasted here.
"I may or may not be able to protect them from the Legion... but I -can- protect them from you."
The demon hunter spit to the side, and with a roar, charged full force at the Slayer, his monstrous arms reaching out to rend him limb from limb.
The Slayer reached to a small sheath at his side, pulling out a small dagger. Crouching to a low stance, he held the dagger behind him, one hand wrapped around the hilt, the other on the pommel. Closing his eyes, he concentrated his will on the dagger. It was not a blade of steel, but a blade of intent. The intent to kill.
As the beast charged him, he stood calm, his will perfectly concentrated, his body's energy collected for one final stroke. A blue glow gathered in his hands, enshrouding them and his dagger. His will became manifest, overwhelming, a tangible thing directed for only one purpose. It collided with the beast, slowing him, and time itself to a snail's pace. A brief instant of time stretched into an eternity, as the Slayer gathered his will for his final stroke.
The Slayer opened his eyes. With two quick steps he covered the distance between them, making the hunter's movements seem clumsy and slow. The dagger arced from behind him upwards, and he released his will, the intent to kill.
The collision ended with an explosion of energy, the demon hunter was thrown back, dead in the air, before he even landed.
The Slayer stood alone once again, surrounded only by death. Before he collapsed, he uttered a single word, "Ash'therod." *
---
((
* As a footnote, the word Ash'therod means 'redemption' in darnassian. It is also the name of El'arion's pet owl. It's sort of a double meaning here, in that he's wondering if he's redeemed himself, and also calling to his owl to go for help.
I intended for this to be short, but as usual, I got carried away writing. :-P
))
-El'arion.