Spoiler (Click to Show)
He panted out of the extreme anger within him. Rage twisted his formerly handsome face into the countenance of a demon, as he gnashed his teeth at the fog beyond the steel gates opposite to him.
The rest of the arena stared silently at the large steel gates as well, waiting nervously for the arrival of the creature they both feared and revered.
Far away in the distance, a melancholy clanking sound was heard.
Slowly, and steadily, the clanking grew closer. Louder and louder it clanked, a slow, sad, tune that chilled the audience to their bones.
A pebble on the otherwise smooth floor of the arena began to shiver and jump.
Drinks placed on armrests in the stands rippled, as if several earthquakes were set off, one after another.
Then all was still.
And all was silent, but for the labored breath of Gorsgan, and the rattling noise of many, many chains just outside the arena.
Through the thick, twisting mist, a giant figure was barely discernible.
Myriad chains bound his arms and fettered his feet, weighing him down, so that the proud giant was stooped before the gate.
The giant figure paused at the sight of the gates, and seemed to stare through the haze at the relatively small figure within the arena glaring at him.
A low chuckle could be heard, distorted and seemingly amplified by the fog.
Gorsgan answered with an equally low and far more threatening growl; and even the murky air around him seemed to edge away, as if the mist itself felt the anger and feared.
The giant merely shrugged, and with flung his arms outwards as though to embrace the gates.
Instead, lengths of chains whipped out from his arms, snaking through the bars of the gates. With a practiced twist of the arm, the giant sent the chains whipping around in an arc to fly high above and over the gates, to land back onto his arms with a dull clank.
The audience watched, entranced, as the giant gave a sharp tug on both lengths of chains.
With a scream of protest from the enormous gates, and squeals of pain from the rusted chains, the giant pulled the gates down on top of himself. With a grunt, he shouldered the thick, heavy gates on top of his back before stalking into the arena.
“You are not strong enough to stand up to my full strength, Gorsgan.” He said quietly. “Thus, the chains and the gates. You may begin safely in the knowledge that I shall not move from this spot, and that my voice shall not exceed this volume, lest your mind go mad from the pain.”
Gorsgan’s eyes could have popped from the pent-up rage behind it. How dare he? I am Gorsgan, Rage Incarnate, and you have dared to meet my challenge, an inexcusable act of arrogance in itself! Worse yet, you are taking my challenge crippling yourself with weighs! Why, you…
At this point, what little was left of Gorsgan’s mind that was not overwhelmed by rage yet stopped working completely. With an inhuman scream of anger, Gorsgan leapt at his enemy, fury propelling him upwards into the sky like a rocket, before summersaulting once in midair to plummet downwards, sword-first, straight onto the back of the Undefeated One.
The heavy gates weighed him down; there was no way for him to roll aside and dodge it. His chains, which might have intercepted the attack, were still clinging to the steel gates.
So he did the only thing he could.
With a grunt and an almighty heave, the Undefeated One threw the chains, gates and all, upwards into the path of the descending blow.
Down, down, and down the sword flashed, like an angry comet, glowing with the same incandescent rage of its owner.
Up, up, and up the gates and the chains went, fueled with the same inexorable strength of their master.
Even before the sword and the gates came into contact, the mist around the two combatants began to clear rapidly, as though the fog itself feared the oncoming blow. But the smart spectator would know that it was the winds coming off the gates and the swords that had blown the fog apart.
And then the two impossibly huge forces met.
With an enormous crash that resounded throughout the arena, the two great powers strove against each other.
For one short moment, it seemed as though the gates would send Gorsgan flying out of the arena.
But with Gorsgan was the power of gravity. And even the Undefeated One, mighty as he was, had to bow down to the forces of physics.
With a scream of protesting steel, the sword cut through the gates.
Continuing along its trajectory, Gorsgan’s sword cut right through the taut chains, effortlessly cutting the through the links as he seemed to plummet with sudden speed towards their origin.
Broken links of a once whole chain flew all around him in the air, temporarily suspended in mid-air by the force of the giant throw.
The Undefeated One saw, and reacted.
With a twist of his giant wrists, the chains gave a groan and at last broke apart.
Shaking off the fragments of chains from his body, he threw his arms wide, as if deliberately presenting a perfect target for Gorsgan.
Even in midair, the Rage Incarnate’s fury somehow exploded to another level at the perceived slight of his powers, fueling his sword to grow even sharper and deadlier.
Roaring in godlike wrath, the Rage Incarnate slashed downwards towards his completely undefended opponent. The sands of the arena whipped up around them, sent flying to the corners of the arena by the force of the oncoming blow.
The audience watched, stunned by the speed and strength with which the confrontation happened.
Even through the mountainous fury that was within Gorsgan, a small amount of satisfaction and glee crept into him, as the sword flashed, barely a foot from it’s target.
Then the giant palms of the Undefeated One crashed together, catching the sword of the Rage Incarnate between them, barely an inch before his chest.
Broken steel links began to rain down from the sky, falling around and about the two opponents. With a clang and a louder clank, the much-punished gates also fell to the earth.
For a moment, the two stared at each other, Gorsgan staring out of bewildered rage and the Undefeated One staring out of calm disappointment.
“You are weak.” He rumbled quietly. “And I envy you for it.”
Gorsgan’s eyes bulged outwards comically, the scars on his face trembled and his facial muscles twitched. His armour hardened even more around him, and the sword he held fairly glowed from the rage within him. A wild aura of rage sprung up and whirled all around him, sending a fierce wind buffeting across the arena; the very atmosphere the two combatants breathed in became surcharged by a sea of malice and hatred.
But if Gorsgan was a sea of anger, his opponent was a ship of calm, weathering the storms the sea raged at him without any trouble at all. Staring disinterestedly into Gorsgan’s face, the Undefeated One almost gently place him back onto the earth.
“Little man,” he rumbled. “I have fought many before, but you are not the first I have defeated,” he chuckled at the comment. “Join up with the others before you, and you shall have the fair battle against me.”
Gorsgan’s anger would have skyrocketed at such a comment; but it couldn’t. Gorsgan had long since hit the proverbial roof. With an impossibly loud howl of rage that set the stone walls of the arena crackling and the audience screaming in pain, his sword, having fallen to the earth, fairly leapt into his hand with a snapping noise.
Sand from the arena floors rushed away from him in waves, leaving The Rage Incarnate standing in a makeshift island of stone while the sands retreated to the furthest corners of the arena.
The steel links that fell to the floor rose again, unbidden, swirling around the arena in a maelstrom of fury, tearing up the stands and sending the audience screaming out of the arena.
And the two combatants faced off alone.
Still the Undefeated One wore a mask of calm interest, staring as the storm of steel tore up the arena around them.
Gorsgan’s eyes had changed colour; they were completely black now. The look of pure hatred and unreasoning fury he sent the Undefeated One would not have been out of place on that of a charging boar.
The arena was gone. Demolished by the waves of anger that now radiated visibly from the Rage Incarnate.
The links in the former chain, lacking a target now that all the walls and stands were destroyed, turned on their former master.
A twister of blood-red anger and gray-black steel whirled towards the Undefeated Champion, smashing into him and seemingly imprisoning him within them.
For one moment, it looked as though Gorsgan had already won.
But the Undefeated Champion was not so easily defeated.
Even within the whirlpool of links, a figure could be seen to hold its hands out wide. Even beneath the shrill sounds of chains clinking and clanking together, a threatening growl could be heard.
And then, there was a giant thunderclap, seemingly out of nowhere.
But the chains flew outwards, as though an explosion had occurred at what they formerly surrounded.
The Undefeated One dusted himself off, having still adhered to his rules of not moving an inch from his spot and not using his voice throughout the confrontation.
Gorsgan’s rage was beyond description. A nervous tic developed under his right eye, and his body was racked with occasional spasms as explosions of anger left him gasping for breath every few seconds.
His mouth opened, wide, wide, wide, as he stared almost forlornly at the melancholy, almost sleepy sky above him.
A raw ululation of primeval rage flew out of his mouth, the aura of rage about him growing dramatically, feeding on the atmosphere around it and polluting the very air with a sharp, stink of anger.
The aura solidified and grew to an almost tangible form, and the slapping, squelching sounds could be heard as the sea of rage splashed around Gorsgan, expanding outwards constantly at an alarming rate.
With a whirl of his sword, Gorsgan seemed to call to the sea around him, sending it swelling and turning in a fast, angry, dance, as though it would transform into another whirlpool, trapping him at its center.
But Gorsgan had no intention of doing so.
With a scream, and the maelstrom of rage whirling about him, the Rage Incarnate seemed to fly, parallel along the ground, at the Undefeated One, his sword pointing straight at his target.
The Rage around him kept pace with him, somehow twisting and turning to form a giant, whirling drill; with the pointed end pointed directly at the Undefeated One.
The sands beneath Gorsgan were pushed apart by the force of his blow; miles away, a the sand could be seen, sent flying miles high into the air, as if Gorsgan had become the modern Moses to part a sea of sand.
Fierce winds buffeted the Undefeated One, even before the blow had come to him; his wild mane of hair was blown about him, but his eyes were perfectly dull and calm.
If he was worried, he hid it very well.
With his hands by his sides, and his face completely hidden by a mask of calmness, it was impossible to say if he was truly worried.
But whatever the case, it no longer mattered.
Even through the fierce howls of the winds that Gorsgan had brought forth, a scream could clearly be heard.
The violent winds, so strong and proud not even a second ago, dropped and disappeared.
The rage about Gorsgan shimmered, shivered, and then slowly faded away.
The Rage Incarnate himself was writhing on the floor in pain.
What had happened?
Gorsgan’s anger, having already far exceeded what a normal human body could endure, had went completely through the roof, and then rocketed past the atmosphere to boot. And even Gorsgan, Rage Incarnate, couldn’t handle that much emotion.
He writhed, now, at the floor of the desert, foam flying from his mouth, suffering from the throes of a heart attack.
His face twitched uncontrollably between shock, pain, and a murderous fury, the Rage Incarnate spasmed continuously as the fury within him only increased from the frustration he felt.
The Undefeated One sighed, sorrow at yet another victory crashing through him. With a sad shake of his head, he walked away.
The giant melted into the heart of the desert, as the Rage Incarnate writhed and panted in the last throes of his heart attack. [/SPOILER]
Spoiler (Click to Show)
Gorsgan was yet again looking for another challenge. He had heard of a man who went supposedly undefeated. Gorsgan set out to dethrone him. But not to prove that he was better, not to gain glory, and not to test the true limit of his skills. He set out to defeat him because Gorsgan was tired of killing dragons and random people who just couldn’t match up to his skill, he needed a challenge. So after he finished eating his dragon lunch, he set out to find this “great warrior”.
For Kurst, it was just another boring day. This day he decided to put on heavy chains all over his body…that were attached to the large arena gate. It slowed him down like crap but he was still so strong he was tossing hundreds aside. It’s the same old song over and over again, Kurst thought to himself. He sat there thinking about his more glorious days. When he was about to smile another idiot managed to find him.
The man was a small man of Indian heritage. He was very short and burly. The small man spoke up, “My name is Raj. I have come to bring honor to my vill-” The Indian was cut off with a sword through his back and coming out of his gut. The Indian man was dead and Gorsgan was standing on the other end of the blade holding the hilt.
Gorsgan, as usual, started off screaming, “I came here to fight a great warrior. So stand aside!” then he tossed the man out of the arena and off a nearby cliff. Gorsgan then looked up at Kurst, “So, are you ready figh-” Gorsgan stopped talking and said stunned, “You’re… Kurst.” Kurst finally spoke, “I am.” Then Gorsgan responded, “I have heard a lot about you. Looks like I’m getting a lot more than what I bargained for” Kurst then thought to himself, that’s what I was afraid of. Gorsgan looked up at him and ordered, “Take of the chains.” Kurst stared at him as though he was stupid and said, “No. And I won’t move from this spot or use my…vocal powers” This made Gorsgan very upset. So upset, that he started yelling in all caps, “YOU WILL FIGHT ME AT YOUR BEST OR YOU WILL METAL IN SO MANY PLACES YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO TELL WHAT BODY PARTS YOU STILL HAVE!”
Gorsgan charged Kurst. The surprise factor of the attack was something Kurst did not expect. Gorsgan had already let off a huge combo against Kurst. He landed some solid blows that actually were cutting half an inch into Kurst. After about 5 seconds of one of the world’s deadliest combos, Kurst gave into his sense of danger and sidestepped out of the way of Gorsgan’s next overhand swing. After which, Gorsgan made a sloppy swing at Kurst and Kurst took this opportunity and was behind Gorsgan in a matter of milliseconds. Then he bull punched Gorsgan in the back. Gorsgan shrugged off the blow as though it was nothing and went from crouching position, from his previous blow, to head-butting Kurst with the back of his head. All Gorsgan was thinking was how he was glad that he got Kurst to fight with some of his true potential.
Kurst quickly realized that holding back was going to be a bad idea. So Kurst caught Gorsgan’s head and picked up the fully armored man and chucked him across the arena. He then charged Gorsgan and the arena gates toppled on top of Kurst. As he charged Gorsgan the weight on him drastically s