Slipstream I
Like Swords
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Impressive though the
city of Esthar was, Arngrim had to admit it was getting pretty
monotonous. A man can only take so much of the same glass and
steel background without becoming bored, careless, or both.
Zynk was still interested in their surroundings, admittedly,
but Arngrim and Beowulf had long since stopped looking around
and were now talking.
Talking being the loosely
operative word, of course. 'Arguing' wouldn't have been too
inaccurate either, although 'full-throated flaming row' was
perhaps just a bit over the top as a description.
"Look, this is a tournament to the death! We've been
fairly lucky so far, but you have to accept that there
are people out there trying to kill us! That fire demon almost
took your hand off! What possible reason is there not to
attack them first?"
Beowulf sighed, wondering if he
would ever get through to the hard-headed mercenary. "Arngrim,
ever person here was unwittingly dragged from their home world
- what makes you think that most of them want to even be
here?" Including myself...
"They probably
don't... but..."
"But nothing. Some of them don't want
to fight, either, but are being forced to in order just to
stay alive. All I'm saying is that we have to try and take
down any opponents without killing them," the temple knight
argued, "and no man deserves to die in a foreign land in a
conflict that has no purpose."
Arngrim fell silent,
reflecting on the knight's words. It wasn't that he enjoyed
killing - what he cherished in combat was the challenges
offered by skilled opponents, the chance to set body, mind and
soul against others in the ultimate test of life. It was an
unfortunate fact that the death of the loser was too often the
price paid for those challenges. A man much like Beowulf had
once told him that "in war, only one can survive," and that
was the creed this tournament was based on.
But that
didn't mean that to lose was to die. The strange couple from
the temple had said something about warriors returning to
their own worlds if they were in danger of dying, didn't they?
And although it would not be easy, Arngrim knew that he and
his two allies were capable of disabling an opponent without
killing them outright.
"I still don't think this is
the best idea, Beowulf," the mercenary finally said. "But
you're right - there are some people, at least, that haven't
brought death upon themselves by their actions. I'll try and
avoid the killing blow."
The temple knight relaxed a
little, but still didn't look entirely convinced. "I want your
word on that, Arngrim. I mean this."
Bemused, Arngrim
held up his right hand and solemnly intoned, "I swear I will
not kill anyone." Dropping it again, he said "Is that good
enough for you?"
Beowulf nodded; the three set off
walking again, as the team had ground to a halt at some point
during the interchance.
So intense. I might have
been a divine warrior, but I never really believed in the path
of the gods - it was just a way to further my need for
challenge which the mortal world could no longer provide. But
you, Beowulf... you believe in what you say, and your cause,
and you are a better man than I could ever be.
Is that
what I was truly searching for? Was the reason I only found
myself to be alive in battle because I never believed in
anything or anyone?
Arngrim shook his head to try
and clear such murky thoughts, only to find that there were
three figures not far from them, as yet not having seen them
in return because they were facing in a different direction. A
knight much like Beowulf in appearance, a man with metallic
claws covering the entirety of his arms and a deep tattoo on
his back, and the third with loose clothing and wild hair. The
latter one, at the least, looked eager and ready for a fight.
Beowulf frowned. "We have not chosen the easiest of
paths to walk, it seems - all of these men seem capable in
battle. Is there any way we can put them at the disadvantage?"
There was, but it wasn't something he was overly proud
of. "I have a skill I can use to get behind them without their
noticing, we could use that to catch them in a pincer move.
Normally I would distain to use it, but..."
"But we're
trying not to kill, and taking them by surprise is the best
way to do so. I understand," the knight replied. "Do what you
must, Zynk and I will be ready."
Arngrim concentrated
for a moment, bringing the attack skill 'Dark' into his memory
and aligning it with his soul. Immediately he seemed to waver
in appearance, still visible but somehow just not that
noticable by the opponent. He unsheathed his broadsword and
moved to jump to a balcony just below this walkway, to try and
get round more easily. "And if they resist too strongly, and
the only alternative is to kill them anyway?" he asked
Beowulf.
"Hey! You swore!"
Arngrim smiled
wryly. "Trust me," he said sardonically, and leapt off the
walkway.
---
OOC: Aaaah, too tired, I
just wanted to get a post in before going to bed. I'm casting
three votes in this battle against Gohan, Sydney and
Delita, and also two votes on Katsuya and
Ryo not mentioned here, forgoing the last two votes as
before. My Reversal Vote goes to Ronfar.
G'night, all, hope to be with you tomorrow!
---
"Are you just a blade of grass,
to be blown in the wind?"
Last edited by Slipstream on 08-07-2001
at 04:09 AM |