RoddyVR
Veteran Board NESer
just read all of em. good story(s). keep it up.
Iron Hearts
- Thread starter Azash
- Start date
Coinich, thanks for the criticism! To be honest, it was helpful 
@RoddyVR: Thanks
@Iggy: Yep, splendid!
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"What is the situation?"
The other Rulers looked startled as Bearlhün walked in. Elisabeth, Smoke Jaguar, Gandhi - Bearlhün had to looked twice to make sure it was him - and Caesar had already arrived for the siege of Paris. After their initial surprise, they all hailed Bearlhün, who drew himself a chair and sat down among the others, around a great strategic map of the area.
He smiled privately as he noticed the general mood in the tent had become quite cautious as he had arrived. They were right, he mused, to be wary..
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Weimar and his fellows had heard that Paris was under siege. Weimar disagreed - this was no siege. Every combat-able man, some women, too, had gathered in and around Paris. Makeshift fortifications and primitive defense systems littered the area around, and enslaved civilians from former battles were constantly strengthening them. The young-looking German couldn't understand why these workers were to be attacked as well. They had done nothing, except fall into the hands of an enemy - something that wouldn't warrant this fate. Weimar mulled over the question, over the supper and during tactical meetings, but found no answer to what was on his mind.
A mid-height, brown-haired serf in non-descript clothing walked through the open supply gates behind the walls of Paris. As the Guard Captain on duty checked his reason to be here, he noticed a few fancy-looking guards walk into a nearby alleyway. The serf became curious over where they were going. Royal-looking guards rarely kept watch over rats.
He strolled casually over to a boy, whispered something to him and, unnoticed, pressed a French silver coin into his hand.
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Jacques Montpellieré yawned as he looked down to the boy who had asked him something.
"What's that, kiddo?"
"Have you seen my dog? He's this tall" - the boy gestured - "and he's yellow, and he's got a short tail!"
"No, sorry, kid. But if I see'm, I'll tell him I saw you!" Jacques winked before sending the boy away to continue his desperate search. He knew that any dog larger than a loaf of bread would be salted by now.
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The worker slipped into the alleyway as the Captain turned to look at the street kid he'd paid. He still found it amazing that such a simple trick would be helpful. Silently, he grabbed the two daggers he'd hidden in his clothing. Judging by the voices, the two guards were returning from their tour of the alley. Not bad, he thought, many guards would leave alleys unchecked, and in this war, that was fatal.
Rushing forward, he threw the daggers ambidextrously at the guards as they came into sight mere feet away. As they both reeled, rasping uselessly with the daggers in their throats, the slave ran to one of the guards and supported him, quickly pushing a crude handkerchief to his throat to keep the blood from the clothes.
Wolf would need clean clothes for this mission.
@RoddyVR: Thanks
@Iggy: Yep, splendid!
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"What is the situation?"
The other Rulers looked startled as Bearlhün walked in. Elisabeth, Smoke Jaguar, Gandhi - Bearlhün had to looked twice to make sure it was him - and Caesar had already arrived for the siege of Paris. After their initial surprise, they all hailed Bearlhün, who drew himself a chair and sat down among the others, around a great strategic map of the area.
He smiled privately as he noticed the general mood in the tent had become quite cautious as he had arrived. They were right, he mused, to be wary..
----------
Weimar and his fellows had heard that Paris was under siege. Weimar disagreed - this was no siege. Every combat-able man, some women, too, had gathered in and around Paris. Makeshift fortifications and primitive defense systems littered the area around, and enslaved civilians from former battles were constantly strengthening them. The young-looking German couldn't understand why these workers were to be attacked as well. They had done nothing, except fall into the hands of an enemy - something that wouldn't warrant this fate. Weimar mulled over the question, over the supper and during tactical meetings, but found no answer to what was on his mind.
+----------------+
|The Siege Begins|
+----------------+
|The Siege Begins|
+----------------+
A mid-height, brown-haired serf in non-descript clothing walked through the open supply gates behind the walls of Paris. As the Guard Captain on duty checked his reason to be here, he noticed a few fancy-looking guards walk into a nearby alleyway. The serf became curious over where they were going. Royal-looking guards rarely kept watch over rats.
He strolled casually over to a boy, whispered something to him and, unnoticed, pressed a French silver coin into his hand.
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Jacques Montpellieré yawned as he looked down to the boy who had asked him something.
"What's that, kiddo?"
"Have you seen my dog? He's this tall" - the boy gestured - "and he's yellow, and he's got a short tail!"
"No, sorry, kid. But if I see'm, I'll tell him I saw you!" Jacques winked before sending the boy away to continue his desperate search. He knew that any dog larger than a loaf of bread would be salted by now.
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The worker slipped into the alleyway as the Captain turned to look at the street kid he'd paid. He still found it amazing that such a simple trick would be helpful. Silently, he grabbed the two daggers he'd hidden in his clothing. Judging by the voices, the two guards were returning from their tour of the alley. Not bad, he thought, many guards would leave alleys unchecked, and in this war, that was fatal.
Rushing forward, he threw the daggers ambidextrously at the guards as they came into sight mere feet away. As they both reeled, rasping uselessly with the daggers in their throats, the slave ran to one of the guards and supported him, quickly pushing a crude handkerchief to his throat to keep the blood from the clothes.
Wolf would need clean clothes for this mission.
+---------------+
|The Second Day|
+---------------+
|The Second Day|
+---------------+
The sun rose lazily as the allied forces' encampment bustled with soldiers, some entering guard shift, some performing menial tasks, some lining up for breakfast. Weimar and Bearlhün had no time for this, however, as they hurried off to the headquarters located between the individual camps.
"Master.. Are we doing the right thing?"
"What do you mean, Weimar?"
"All those workers there, some from our people, all of them innocent. Why must the assault take their lives as well?"
Bearlhün froze in his tracks, turned to Weimar and frowned.
"We do what me must. I, as a Ruler, have great responsibility for my people, but I can see the forest for the trees and understand that, should we hesitate, many more would suffer."
Weimar hung his head as he realized the impeccable logic in the King's statement. "I just wish there was a way to save those lives."
Bearlhün looked at Weimar for a long while, before slapping his hands onto Weimar's shoulders, holding him at arm's length.
"You're a good man, Weimar. Never doubt that. Go get yourself something to eat, and I'll inform you later of what we decided."
As Bearlhün walked off, Weimar stood alone at the camp gates, wondering.
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Joan de Arc, Queen of France, Saint of Orleans, turned to her military advisor. When the Elders declared her lawless, her Followers had lost their gift of eternal life, and simply become dust and bones. She had been stricken by the sudden removal of her closest friends, yet this new advisor, Bess, was certainly capable of handling strategy.
"Are we ready for a quick raid into their fortifications?"
"Yes, mylady, our catapults are prepared and the horsemen are waiting."
"Good. Give the order."
But before Bess could reply, one of Joan's elite guards bursted in.
"The allied! They're invading!"
The Saint gave an alarmed shout before jumping out of her throne and heading past the surprised guardsman, towards the fray.
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Wolf growled as the Ruler rushed past him.
"Bad mistake!", he shouted, as he pulled out a dagger, stabbed it into Joan's spine, and prepared to face the advisor.
shady milkman
eternal
As Lord Iggy said, this just keeps getting better and better. Keep it up!
Thanks, everybody
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"You.. You killed.. Killed the Saint.. Who are you?!"
Without even waiting for an answer, Bess Cétak grabbed a massive polearm, ironically of German design, from a nearby weapon rack. Ragingly, he lunged it toward Wolf, who rolled over diagonally, shortening the distance between the adversaries. He landed back onto his feet, but ducked again as the battle scythe's massive shaft swung just over his head. Before Cétak could finish the swipe, the assassin leapt at him, performing an x-shaped attack with his dual daggers.
As the senior officer's throat was torn, a group of the real Elite Guards rushed in. Seeing Joan's dead body, they halted at the doorway, collectively gasping or wailing their lament over the dead Queen. Some of them even crying openly, nobody noticed the dying advisor or the escaping Wolf.
Can somebody help me? There are two words I'm missing. One is ploeb..plebe.. ple.. something, and means the common people. The other is that fancy word for an ancient tent, yurat or something, which I keep confusing with youghurt.
"Captain! CAPTAIN!"
Jacques turned to look at a slightly familiar serf coming running down the street. He was sweaty and, obviously, in uproar. Normally, this would not have stood out, but what the serf said next surprised Jacques like nothing else.
"They say.. That the Saint.. Is dead!" The worker was breathing rapidly inbetween words, and held the stitch in his chest.
"There's been an assassination!"
"Maybe, Weimar, your wishes will come true. It looks like Wolf has succeeded."
Weimar couldn't help but note that Bearlhün, who normally was quite unpredictable and grim, seemed awfully pleased about something.
"What is it you ordered him to do?"
Bearlhün turned to him, and there was no mistaking the grin on his face.
"I ordered him to assassinate the Saint!"
Weimar's jaw dropped. If Wolf had really succeeded in this, Weimar's respect for the cold and distant assassin would multiply. But then doubt struck his mind.
"How do you know he's succeeded?"
"Because they're sending out the diplomats! Come, let's go meet them. Looks like Smoke-Jaguar and Caesar are already on the way."
Weimar felt like a great weigh had been eased off him. Joan dead - now this war would surely end, and he did not have to witness the slaughter of the commoners.
"We require all technology you know given to us, along with half of the gold in your coffers and a third of your income!"
"This is unheard of! You're insane!"
"Maybe, but I'm a dangerous lunatic! Watch your words!"
The tensions were rising rapidly in the tent where the negotiations were taking place. The wizened old treasurer of Paris was trying to convince the Alliance they should pay war reparations, and the Alliance were offering him a peace deal Weimar understood was incredibly generous, considering that France was teetering at the edge of the cliff. Bearlhün and the scrooge were standing at a distance of half a pace, with locked gazes. Weimar had noticed that, several times, the Bear had been very close to dispatching of the troublesome fool.
"Parks."
"Weimar."
The two Followers had left the negotiation place and decided on a friendly duel, to test their skills. They inclined their heads before assuming their positions; Weimar taking a low, crouching stance, Parks choosing a fast position where he stood on his toes, ready to sprint away or into the heat. The silence grew heavy as they carefully observed eachother.
Parks began the confrontation as his longsword, of similar build as Weimar's, lunged tentatively at the German. It was easily parried by Weimar. They smiled as they began circling slowly. A group of celebrating soldiers had already gathered to watch.
Parks took the initiative again, lunging at Weimar, ghost-stepping to his left side, and bringing the sword downwards, at Weimar's elbow. He was truly amazed when Weimar blocked it, too, before knee-kicking Parks into the ribs with his right foot, yanking the sword out of the Englishman's hand and headbutting him into the ground.
As the soldiers cheered, the treasurer finally gave up and accepted the demands. As the Rulers left the tent, they noticed Weimar and Parks at it again, and, all of them smiling, they headed for the fight scene to root for their favourites.
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"Captain! CAPTAIN!"
Jacques turned to look at a slightly familiar serf coming running down the street. He was sweaty and, obviously, in uproar. Normally, this would not have stood out, but what the serf said next surprised Jacques like nothing else.
"They say.. That the Saint.. Is dead!" The worker was breathing rapidly inbetween words, and held the stitch in his chest.
"There's been an assassination!"
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"Maybe, Weimar, your wishes will come true. It looks like Wolf has succeeded."
Weimar couldn't help but note that Bearlhün, who normally was quite unpredictable and grim, seemed awfully pleased about something.
"What is it you ordered him to do?"
Bearlhün turned to him, and there was no mistaking the grin on his face.
"I ordered him to assassinate the Saint!"
Weimar's jaw dropped. If Wolf had really succeeded in this, Weimar's respect for the cold and distant assassin would multiply. But then doubt struck his mind.
"How do you know he's succeeded?"
"Because they're sending out the diplomats! Come, let's go meet them. Looks like Smoke-Jaguar and Caesar are already on the way."
Weimar felt like a great weigh had been eased off him. Joan dead - now this war would surely end, and he did not have to witness the slaughter of the commoners.
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"We require all technology you know given to us, along with half of the gold in your coffers and a third of your income!"
"This is unheard of! You're insane!"
"Maybe, but I'm a dangerous lunatic! Watch your words!"
The tensions were rising rapidly in the tent where the negotiations were taking place. The wizened old treasurer of Paris was trying to convince the Alliance they should pay war reparations, and the Alliance were offering him a peace deal Weimar understood was incredibly generous, considering that France was teetering at the edge of the cliff. Bearlhün and the scrooge were standing at a distance of half a pace, with locked gazes. Weimar had noticed that, several times, the Bear had been very close to dispatching of the troublesome fool.
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"Parks."
"Weimar."
The two Followers had left the negotiation place and decided on a friendly duel, to test their skills. They inclined their heads before assuming their positions; Weimar taking a low, crouching stance, Parks choosing a fast position where he stood on his toes, ready to sprint away or into the heat. The silence grew heavy as they carefully observed eachother.
Parks began the confrontation as his longsword, of similar build as Weimar's, lunged tentatively at the German. It was easily parried by Weimar. They smiled as they began circling slowly. A group of celebrating soldiers had already gathered to watch.
Parks took the initiative again, lunging at Weimar, ghost-stepping to his left side, and bringing the sword downwards, at Weimar's elbow. He was truly amazed when Weimar blocked it, too, before knee-kicking Parks into the ribs with his right foot, yanking the sword out of the Englishman's hand and headbutting him into the ground.
As the soldiers cheered, the treasurer finally gave up and accepted the demands. As the Rulers left the tent, they noticed Weimar and Parks at it again, and, all of them smiling, they headed for the fight scene to root for their favourites.
shady milkman
eternal
The word you're looking for is "Plebe." I believe it can also be spelled "Pleb." Good update!
+------+
|Victory|
+------+
|Victory|
+------+
"Geez, man, I can't believe we made it. And in less than sixty hours! I wonder how she died..?"
"Don't know. Probably weakened by the Elder Gods or something."
Wolf listened to Parks and Weimar discuss the death of Joan. What would they do if they knew? It was no big thing figuring out Weimar probably knew already, but the Englishmen should probably be kept outside of this. People tended to overreact to Wolf's handiwork.
No idea why, he thought sarcastically, and stood up to meet the approaching Bearlhün.
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"Are all our demands met?"
"Yes, they're just loading up the tomes. The gold has been divided amongst the soldiers, as proposed. What will happen to the annual income?"
"Simple. That goes straight to our income."
"Hmm.. No distribution here?"
"Lay it off, Wolf." Bearlhün smiled. "You've already been paid your share, and it certainly is greater than most others'."
"What's that?" Socrium, a nearby Roman commander, had stood up. "Why does this mongrel deserve greater pay than us?!"
"For what he's done." Weimar stood up, in his turn, and gazed at the Roman.
"And what has he done?" The Roman sneered. "I see no combat gear on him. I see no officer badges. I see a lumpy sneak-thief claiming to be superior!"
"You see a lumpy sneak-thief whom I, Bearlhün of Germany, sent to assassinate Joan, and succeeded!"
The Roman soldier looked like somebody had just insulted his dead mother. He withdrew a sword and bellowed: "If you claim to have killed Joan, then you should be able to defeat me, too!"
"I do not 'defeat', fool, I KILL!"
The two men quickly assumed fighting positions, and the camp, which had tensed up, now resumed it's relaxed atmosphere as people realized this was nothing serious, just two Followers battling it out.
"So, you think you can KILL!" - Socrium imitated Wolf's growl - "Me? Socrium of Pompeii?"
"Yes."
The two daggers appeared quickly into Wolf's slim hands as the German assumed a standard position. Wolf's mind raced with alternatives - he's using a basic stance - is he inadequate or arrogant? Or is he feinting? Wolf decided to see by doing a double stab at the enemy - and retreating back before he came closer than two feet. The Roman clumsily attempted some sort of counterattack, overextending himself far beyond feinting.
Slightly relieved that his adversary was simply unskilled, Wolf leapt forward again, sliced the Roman's right wrist to disarm him, and knifed him into the heart. Before anyone could react, Wolf pulled the daggers out, performed a dazzling series of stabs and cuts, and then retreated. The amazed Roman follower gasped as he looked down onto his shredded ringmail, slowly collapsed, and hit the ground with a clang.
Now, I pondered a long while on how to continue.. I hope this will not be my downfall 
The doors of the great hall crashed open as Weimar and a cohort of a hundred men entered the great temple of Bearlhün. The King himself was meditating on the floor, as usual, and did not react.
"King", Weimar sneered, "It seems your time has come to pass!" The guards with him laughed, some coldly, some fearfully.
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Not surprising, Bearlhün thought coldly as he looked at the men he had thought to be loyal. Humans have a knack of gathering around whomever promised the most power. These, those who were ranked holy and unscrupulous by Germany, had risen against him. Remembering what he had been told last night, he rose.
"So! Weak-willed carrion worms! Sons of motherless swines! Come! I will teach you why I will always be.. Your master."
With these words, Bearlhün leapt into the mound of swordsmen and pikemen, dodging every blow directed at him, killing a man every time he attacked. Weimar, who had decided to stay back to let the guards weaken Bearlhün, was amazed. The dark-haired Ruler was like nothing else alive; a furious gale of steel and death.
Perhaps there was something to these Rulers after all, the commander mused. No, he then corrected himself, the emperor mused. Now that the Elder Ones had spoken of the Ruler's Exile, he was free to acquire the power he so sought.. Total power.
He was awoken from his thoughts as a limp body crashed into him. Reeling, he gazed over at the battle. What he saw frightened him to no end.The King stood there, surrounded by a hundred dead guardsmen, laughing darkly. He swung his sword over both his shoulders, spraying the blood off it, then advanced on Weimar.
The awe-struck Commander withdrew his sword, fully aware that Bearlhün was undefeatable. Would he rebel against the Elders?
"No, Weimar, I wouldn't. But I am allowed to have a little fun!" Weimar grimaced, wondering how the Ruler had known his thoughts. "I read you like a little child's book!"
A series of two stabs, both feints, and a sudden swipe were enough to completely upend Weimar's defense. He sliced at a low cut heading for his shins, but wasn't expecting the spin kick. Bearlhün's greaves smashed into his skull with a gong-like sound. The laugh seemed to be everywhere as the dizzy Weimar stood up to face his adversary. He wiped the blood from his eyes, and missed his chance to block the thrust Bearlhün did with - an open palm?
As the fingers closed around Weimar's visage, flames burst from Bearlhüns skin, and Weimar shrieked as he felt a horrible pain devour him. Tears flooding down his cheeks, he barely registered Bearlhüns shout of "Loyalty to the Elders!" before the darkness, thankfully, embraced him and he slumped together into a crying shadow of a man. He could not see the hand-shaped scar on his face, the scar that would forevermore mark him.
He did not see Bearlhün fall to the floor with his own sword in his heart. He did not see Bearlhün disintegrate.
+--------+
|Changes|
+--------+
|Changes|
+--------+
The doors of the great hall crashed open as Weimar and a cohort of a hundred men entered the great temple of Bearlhün. The King himself was meditating on the floor, as usual, and did not react.
"King", Weimar sneered, "It seems your time has come to pass!" The guards with him laughed, some coldly, some fearfully.
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Not surprising, Bearlhün thought coldly as he looked at the men he had thought to be loyal. Humans have a knack of gathering around whomever promised the most power. These, those who were ranked holy and unscrupulous by Germany, had risen against him. Remembering what he had been told last night, he rose.
..........
"You must understand, Bear. It is time for the disciples to become the Masters. You will fade into the background, watch the unfolding of the world, and, should we deem it necessary, help your disciples in any way to rule the peoples." The booming voice of the Elders had been filled with apologetic grief for doing this to their chosen ones.
"But what of us? What will happen to us?!" The Bear had screamed in vain for hours, but nothing had been revealed. And, for the first time in ages, he had cried.
..........
"You must understand, Bear. It is time for the disciples to become the Masters. You will fade into the background, watch the unfolding of the world, and, should we deem it necessary, help your disciples in any way to rule the peoples." The booming voice of the Elders had been filled with apologetic grief for doing this to their chosen ones.
"But what of us? What will happen to us?!" The Bear had screamed in vain for hours, but nothing had been revealed. And, for the first time in ages, he had cried.
..........
"So! Weak-willed carrion worms! Sons of motherless swines! Come! I will teach you why I will always be.. Your master."
With these words, Bearlhün leapt into the mound of swordsmen and pikemen, dodging every blow directed at him, killing a man every time he attacked. Weimar, who had decided to stay back to let the guards weaken Bearlhün, was amazed. The dark-haired Ruler was like nothing else alive; a furious gale of steel and death.
Perhaps there was something to these Rulers after all, the commander mused. No, he then corrected himself, the emperor mused. Now that the Elder Ones had spoken of the Ruler's Exile, he was free to acquire the power he so sought.. Total power.
He was awoken from his thoughts as a limp body crashed into him. Reeling, he gazed over at the battle. What he saw frightened him to no end.The King stood there, surrounded by a hundred dead guardsmen, laughing darkly. He swung his sword over both his shoulders, spraying the blood off it, then advanced on Weimar.
The awe-struck Commander withdrew his sword, fully aware that Bearlhün was undefeatable. Would he rebel against the Elders?
"No, Weimar, I wouldn't. But I am allowed to have a little fun!" Weimar grimaced, wondering how the Ruler had known his thoughts. "I read you like a little child's book!"
A series of two stabs, both feints, and a sudden swipe were enough to completely upend Weimar's defense. He sliced at a low cut heading for his shins, but wasn't expecting the spin kick. Bearlhün's greaves smashed into his skull with a gong-like sound. The laugh seemed to be everywhere as the dizzy Weimar stood up to face his adversary. He wiped the blood from his eyes, and missed his chance to block the thrust Bearlhün did with - an open palm?
As the fingers closed around Weimar's visage, flames burst from Bearlhüns skin, and Weimar shrieked as he felt a horrible pain devour him. Tears flooding down his cheeks, he barely registered Bearlhüns shout of "Loyalty to the Elders!" before the darkness, thankfully, embraced him and he slumped together into a crying shadow of a man. He could not see the hand-shaped scar on his face, the scar that would forevermore mark him.
He did not see Bearlhün fall to the floor with his own sword in his heart. He did not see Bearlhün disintegrate.
Coinich
Party Chairman
Oooooooo! Me like!
Me like!@Coinich: Looks like it didn't go completely down the toilet, then?
Bearlhün grunted as he tripped over a root and collapsed in a mud puddle. The self-sacrifice had moved him far away from Germany, leaving his beloved Entropia lying, bloodied, by the bodies of the guard and Weimar. He grinned weakly, managing only a slight grimace while pushing to get up from the sludge. Uncapable and tired-out, he rolled over onto his back, hoisted himself into a sitting position, and decided to survey his location.
He was in some sort of forest. The trees looked remotely similar to the ones in Germany, but he understood that he was, indeed, far away. A path cut through the woods, leading down a hill, and rising onto another, ending in front of a strange-looking building.
It looked like several houses had been perfectly stacked onto each other, roofs and all. In front of it was a strange archway, and flowers of different kinds littered the gardens around it.
He would have to travel there after sleeping a little. Sighing exhaustedly, Bearlhün lowered himself onto his back and drifted into sleep.
Update again, later
Looks like it didn't go completely down the toilet, then? +------+
|Healing|
+------+
|Healing|
+------+
Bearlhün grunted as he tripped over a root and collapsed in a mud puddle. The self-sacrifice had moved him far away from Germany, leaving his beloved Entropia lying, bloodied, by the bodies of the guard and Weimar. He grinned weakly, managing only a slight grimace while pushing to get up from the sludge. Uncapable and tired-out, he rolled over onto his back, hoisted himself into a sitting position, and decided to survey his location.
He was in some sort of forest. The trees looked remotely similar to the ones in Germany, but he understood that he was, indeed, far away. A path cut through the woods, leading down a hill, and rising onto another, ending in front of a strange-looking building.
It looked like several houses had been perfectly stacked onto each other, roofs and all. In front of it was a strange archway, and flowers of different kinds littered the gardens around it.
He would have to travel there after sleeping a little. Sighing exhaustedly, Bearlhün lowered himself onto his back and drifted into sleep.
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Update again, later
Azash said:Update again, later
No blawdy idea why I always post this, even though it takes a weekend before I update. I just couldn't bring myself to update twice on a Friday
@Iggy:
+-------------+
|New Beginning|
+-------------+
|New Beginning|
+-------------+
Bearlhün was woken in the early morning by the chirping of birds. The scent of flowers was quite strong here, being quite dissimilar with the blandness of the unhospitable Germany. A squirrel rushed up a nearby tree, and the sun shone from behind the edge of the horizon. Bearlhün stood up, flexed his muscles, and gazed through the woods. The temple he had seen last night had not been imaginary, and did indeed seem like the best place to find out about one's whereabouts.
Massaging his shoulders, Bearlhün set off towards the temple.
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"Hail, stranger! Why are you here?"
Bearlhün froze in his tracks, beyond surprise; he had not noticed the woman lurking behind the pillars of the great archway.
The archway, the pagoda, and now the appearance of this woman confirmed what he had not even thought of, lying half-dead in the forest: He had appeared in Japan!
Hoping his surprise did not register on his face, he turned politely toward the woman and bowed.
"Greetings. I am here, because I only recently awoke in that forest, completely unbeknownst of what fates had brought me there. Sadly, I seem to have lost all memory."
The Japanese looked him over before continuing.
"You are indeed layered with grime, but you seem to be able-bodied. If you are interested, the Temple of Miyamoto can help you train further in your battling skills than you can believe."
Bearlhün smiled. No matter where he went, he always got drawn inton fights, but now, it seemed like they would actually be helpful.
"I know swords."
"Show me."
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OOS: Yes indeed! Bearlhün finds himself in Japan, and decides to begin further training.
Now, people, the questions for today:
1. What is the Matrix easter egg in this chapter?
2. What is the Musashi easter egg in this chapter?
The winner(s) gain the honour of appearing in a future easter egg
Alright! Time to continue.
The steel rung through the air as Bear and the Japanese woman exchanged blows, she with a short pike and he with a longsword. Before the echo had died out, four attacks had begun, and as many had been stopped with a well-aimed strike.
Bear circled carefully, the sand of the walkway gnashing under his feet as he searched for openings. The woman, who had said that she had taken the name Kariudo when she joined the temple, did the same. Their gazes gridlocked, both watching the other challengingly and apprehensively.
She lunged with the pike, shaking it in mid-stab. Bear dodged to the right and swung his left hand out to grab the polearm. Kariudo foresaw this, dropped it lower, and cut at his ribs. He quickly twisted his arm around the spear, yanked it away from the opponent's hands, and tossed his own sword away.
Shouting furiously, the two combatants rushed each other, Bear kicking and Kariudo swiping with her fingernails at his face. He ducked quickly and smashed his heel onto her toes. As she flinched over the pain caused by the reinforced boot, he rolled his weight onto her toes, furthermore stunning her, and aimed a quick thrust at her forehead. Blinking, Kariudo failed to see the incoming punch before it hit her squarely in the face. With a faint whimper, she fell onto her knees, then onto her face.
The test was over.
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The steel rung through the air as Bear and the Japanese woman exchanged blows, she with a short pike and he with a longsword. Before the echo had died out, four attacks had begun, and as many had been stopped with a well-aimed strike.
Bear circled carefully, the sand of the walkway gnashing under his feet as he searched for openings. The woman, who had said that she had taken the name Kariudo when she joined the temple, did the same. Their gazes gridlocked, both watching the other challengingly and apprehensively.
She lunged with the pike, shaking it in mid-stab. Bear dodged to the right and swung his left hand out to grab the polearm. Kariudo foresaw this, dropped it lower, and cut at his ribs. He quickly twisted his arm around the spear, yanked it away from the opponent's hands, and tossed his own sword away.
Shouting furiously, the two combatants rushed each other, Bear kicking and Kariudo swiping with her fingernails at his face. He ducked quickly and smashed his heel onto her toes. As she flinched over the pain caused by the reinforced boot, he rolled his weight onto her toes, furthermore stunning her, and aimed a quick thrust at her forehead. Blinking, Kariudo failed to see the incoming punch before it hit her squarely in the face. With a faint whimper, she fell onto her knees, then onto her face.
The test was over.
Coinich
Party Chairman
Nice.
NOTE: It's not polite to hit a woman!
NOTE: It's not polite to hit a woman!
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